Cora Johnson grew up in Snowflake, AZ -- a small town so predominately LDS it’s been dubbed “Little Utah.” But she’s grateful to have also grown up in an open-minded household with parents who taught her from an early age to ask questions and to explore other cultures and ideas. Having prioritized global travel above “just about everything else,” Cora says her parents, Cooper and Cameo Johnson, have instilled their “vagabond genes” in each of their four kids: Cora – 21, Granger – 19, Jonah – 17, and Ezra – 13. While balancing a full and hectic life, through good and bad financial times, whether it be starting a business or pursuing higher education and trying to meet the needs of all members of the family, they always prioritized travel. Together, the family embarked on adventures everywhere from Morocco to Malaysia. Cora managed to visit 32 countries and all 50 states before her LDS mission to Santa Rosa, CA, and upon her recent return, just squeezed in a trip to Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. It’s this broader perspective that Cora credits as having helped her navigate her inner journey of being queer with confidence.
Cora was in tune with who she was from a young age. A self-proclaimed tomboy, most of her friends were boys, partly because she was more interested in their pastimes, and partly because she didn’t like to have girls as close friends because she’d end up developing crushes on them. While Cora’s attraction to girls was clear to her, she didn’t talk about it often – figuring it didn’t matter that much.
From about the age of 10 or 11, Cora resolved she wanted to serve a mission, a notion that didn’t go away, even as she started to come out to others around age 17. She didn’t make a public announcement, but told her family and friends, who largely responded positively – even a line-up of extended family members who she feared might not due to their traditional LDS mindsets. As she suspected, Cora’s parents were very supportive and loving, though Cooper did advise his daughter to be cautious about coming out in the church. Worried it might end up hurting her, he warned her that the church might not always be a safe and secure space.
A couple years passed and as Covid changed the landscape of the nation, Cora decided she was ready to leave Arizona to serve that mission. She’d come out as bisexual already to her bishop and stake president, both of whom were very affirming and supportive of her desire to serve. But they both advised her to keep her sexuality on the downlow, reminding her “your mission is not about that/you.” Cora reasoned she could keep things under wraps. Off she went to Santa Rosa, CA.
While her mission was a lot harder than expected (especially regarding the need to harbor any mention of her orientation), Cora loved every minute of her 18 months in the field. She felt nothing else she had ever done had grown her relationship with and love for the Savior more. As she began to draw close to her fellow missionaries, one day she found herself in a conversation with a group in which another sister expressed how she’d recently come out and was struggling with emotions Cora herself had faced. Feeling a strong desire to be of service, Cora said, “I know how hard coming out can be – I’ve done a lot of research and can help if needed.” In this one statement, Cora felt a renewed purpose as she discovered another pocket in which she could be of service. Over the course of her mission, she ended up meeting many other missionaries who were also trying to navigate being queer in the church. Cora found her peers to be affirming for the most part, particularly one companion she had for half her mission who was “amazingly supportive and open to learning.”
Still, Cora tried to keep it all on the downlow, reasoning that when you’re on a mission, your romantic life shouldn’t be your focus. But as so often happens with sisters and elders who serve in the same area, Cora met a sister missionary in a nearby area for whom her feelings were undeniable. Word somehow got back to her mission president, who was not pleased and made sure to keep them assigned as far away from each other as possible. And Cora now had a new dilemma on her hands – she knew that when she’d return home from her mission, she would have to come to terms with the fact that the church she loved so much and had dedicated her life to had teachings in direct conflict with the future she now knew she’d be pursuing. While she tried to maintain focus on the work, Cora began to fear that the hope of the Atonement she was so committed to teaching to others wouldn’t extend to her unless she was willing to give up a romantic relationship. For the first time, Cora didn’t know whether she’d be able to authentically remain a member of the church while being queer.
Cora turned to her parents for advice; ever loving, they lifted her spirits. Her mom assured her, “What you’re doing right now is good. God loves you as you are. What you do or don’t do when you get home will not diminish the value of the experiences you’re having right now, and the help you’re providing people.” Cora recalls it was still of course difficult, but without the positive encouragement from her mom, she wouldn’t have been able to push through. Cora finished strong, and returned home to Arizona, where she is now working at the Phoenix airport while completing prerequisites to apply to nursing school. The adventure seeker still loves traveling “more than anything else in the world,” and also enjoys hiking, camping, being outside, concerts, snowboarding, and longboarding.
To any other queer youth considering the mission field, Cora advises: “Definitely pray about it a lot. Consider all the possibilities, because temple covenants are a big deal – and that’s one thing that gives me a lot of anxiety. Missions are amazing, and I’m so glad I went on mine. But they can be very difficult.” Especially for LGBTQ members. Cora says, “Going into my mission, I knew I was bi and queer, but I assumed when I came home, I’d probably try to get into a relationship with a guy and marry in the temple. I did not anticipate falling for a girl.”
Since coming out and coming home, Cora has maintained her church activity while also becoming much more vocal and active in the LGBTQ community. During Pride month, she posted an invitation on her Facebook profile (@hna.colocha) for followers to ask her (anonymous) questions about the reality of being LGBTQ in the church. Her answers have continued to shed light to a mostly kind and receptive audience, including many extended family members who Cora didn’t anticipate would be so open to hearing more about her experiences.
The Johnson’s home stake recently asked Cameo to give a talk on inclusion in stake conference, which Cora says was “amazing.” Cora appreciates how her parents have both chosen to be so open about their family’s journey. Her brother Granger is now serving a mission in Colorado Springs, where he, too, has had opportunities to speak up and speak out about having a queer family member. “It’s been really, really good,” says Cora. It’s this kind of familial love and support that Cora credits for being the reason she has been able to adjust so well as her journy has taken her all over the world. And always, back to a loving home.
