There is one number that hasn’t left me since I first read it: 97 percent. That’s the share of LGBTQ+ young people who can still name at least one reason to be hopeful, according to new national research from Hopelab and Data for Progress. I find this figure both extraordinary and gutting–as in the midst of one of the most hostile political climates queer youth have faced in decades, they are still looking for the light. The disconnect between the hope they’re clinging to and the future they are inheriting is not accidental. It is the result of a deliberate campaign spearheaded by elected officials across the country.

This new research details a widening “hope gap.” Only 19 percent of LGBTQ+ young people feel optimistic about the country’s future, compared to 32 percent of their non-LGBTQ+ peers. On an individual level, just 52 percent feel optimistic about their own future—a 10-point break from the 62 percent of other youth. These statistics are the measurable consequences of living in a country actively legislating away your existence.

I know this all too well because I grew up in North Florida.

I came of age watching my state become a laboratory for anti-LGBTQ+ policy. I watched lawmakers pass the infamous “Don’t Say Gay or Trans” bill, stripping teachers of the ability to acknowledge that students like me exist. I watched them ban LGBTQ+ books en masse—going as far as to file criminal complaints against librarians in my hometown of Flagler County, Florida. I watched Tallahassee restrict health care access for transgender youth and gut crucial campus support structures. From personal experience and years organizing for LGBTQ+ liberation, I understood instinctively what this research now confirms: these laws do not exist in a vacuum. They have very real-world implications on the bodies and minds of LGBTQ+ kids.

Unfortunately, Florida is not an outlier. Across the South, state legislatures have pursued robust campaigns to codify similar anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, often mirroring efforts first tested in my state. They are assisted by well-resourced conservative lobbying groups such as the Alliance Defending Freedom and American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), which draft model bills to circulate among allied legislators. This well-oiled political machinery sends a consistent reminder to queer youth that our purported “leaders” will send them down the river as an acceptable casualty of their political ambitions. The 61 percent of LGBTQ+ youth who characterize their mental health as “fair” or “poor” deserve better than to be treated as a political football.

Statehouses across the country are, at best, complicit and, at worst, manufacturing this public health emergency. When you pass laws that isolate queer kids from supportive teachers, restrict their access to life-saving healthcare, and flood their environment with state-sanctioned stigmatization, you do not get to wash your hands of blame.

In spite of this rampant hatred, my friends and I channeled their outward bigotry into substantive organizing with undeniable power. When book bans came to my county en masse, I organized a coalition of students to lobby the Flagler County School Board to champion the freedom to read, and simultaneously handed out dozens of copies of each banned title. As local politicians espoused anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric and championed harmful policies, we organized a coalition of students to knock thousands of doors and successfully remove two of them from office. In 2022, we organized the “Don’t Say Gay or Trans” walkouts, with tens of thousands of students getting involved—representing one of the largest student-led protests of the 21st century. At Gen-Z for Change, where I currently direct national partnerships and collaborations across the progressive movement, we used our network of hundreds of content creators to amplify this important advocacy happening on-the-ground and secured tens of thousands of petitions sent to state politicians.

Undoubtedly, our collective work can be used as a blueprint for young people everywhere to stand loud and proud in the face of authoritarianism. But, it is just a start. Using the findings of HopeLab as a call to action, we must organize a diverse, intergenerational, potent movement to dismantle this systemic discrimination of LGBTQ+ young people and implement meaningful solutions to address this crisis. This must start with the restoration of funding for LGBTQ+ mental health programs and youth research that have been gutted at both the federal and state levels. We must invest in affirming curricula, school counselors, and dedicated community spaces. Finally, we have an imperative to pass nondiscrimination protections for queer youth to solidify a legal foundation for safety and dignity. The resilience of LGBTQ+ young people must be met with substantive organizing.

97 percent of queer youth can still find a reason for hope in this world. They shouldn’t have to look this hard.