In our ongoing partnership with The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, The Reckoning identified six inspiring Georgians who are making a difference in their community. These incredible individuals, many of whom identify as LGBTQ or an ally, are featured in the digital and print version of AJC’s “Everyday Heroes” project, which launched during Thanksgiving week. 

This place we call home is filled with ordinary people who accomplish extraordinary feats. Their selfless acts make this region so special – and they bring out the best in all of us. With the holidays upon us, AJC, The Reckoning, and our partners wanted to share their inspiring stories, celebrate their accomplishments, and offer ways that you can help. 

The Reckoning shares the final three of six profiles we contributed to the project. We hope you've enjoyed reading about ordinary people doing extraordinary work.

E.R. Anderson, 40

Charis Books & Charis Circle

"My home base has been Charis my entire life."

That is not hyperbole. Since he was 15, ER Anderson has taken up space at the beloved bookstore.

His mother introduced him to Charis. A licensed therapist, she was acutely aware that her child was struggling. He had not yet identified as transgender, but his mother discerned her child needed an outlet.

"They have a writing group. You are a writer. You need to go to this space," she told Anderson.

"It was a space for me, a multiracial, multigenerational place where I could be queer and a writer separate from school and church and my family, where I could actually express myself completely," he remembers. 

"I was granted the gift of learning that there were a lot of people who wanted the same vision of the world that I want."

Anderson is the executive director of Charis Circle, the non-profit programming arm of Charis Books and More. The bookstore is considered the nation's oldest and largest feminist bookstore.

When he started, he said his primary responsibility was setting up chairs and listening.

"It benefitted me a lot," he said. "They loved and cared for me, but they also took the time to teach me. If I am anything today, it is because I was a good listener."

At Charis, they try to continue that legacy. Being a bookseller at Charis is about more than selling books.

"People often say Charis is their secular church. We do a lot of what feels like pastoral care for people who feel as though they have nowhere else to go," he said. "They have been kicked out where they were, or they do not relate to religion. They need a space that is a sanctuary."

Before he found Charis, he struggled to find a space that affirmed all of him. Not only was he struggling with issues surrounding his identity, but as a person with diabetes, he felt his body betraying him. Charis became a saving grace.

To this day, customers can walk into the bookstore on the worst day of their life and be granted the same gift Anderson received. And then some.

"Their mother has died, or their partner has cheated on them, or their trans kid is getting beat up in school, or whatever horrible thing they have experienced, and if they don't want to be talked to or bothered, they can just be without any questions," he said. "If they need a resource or two to help get to a starting point during that visit, they have the most vetted resources available. There are no other spaces in Atlanta where people can go somewhere, at almost any time of the day, and get a starting point."

His journey informs Anderson's activism. His presence at Charis dispels many myths that have impacted others who identify as queer. Before he transitioned, he struggled with whether he should or could continue as executive director. For many queer and trans individuals, coming out or transitioning sometimes means leaving home. For some, leaving home is about safety, and for others, acceptance. Frequently, they move to major metropolitan cities like New York. Atlanta is also a destination city for those who grow up in small, rural areas.

"We have the right to be who we are. We deserve rural spaces and beauty. I made a conscious choice to transition visibly in my role," Anderson said. "There was this idea that if I became a man, I couldn't lead a feminist organization anymore."

Plus, Charis raised him.

"I believed it important to not adhere to an outdated model of what it means to transition. I didn't want to hide," he said. "You can stay in the place you call home. You don't have to go away to be someone else. You have honor wherever you are."

Learn more about Charis Books & More and Charis Circle here.