Embracing a ‘Sustainable’ Work-Love Balance

To know Brianna Treat is to call her ‘B.’ It’s part of who they are these days as a 32-year-old highly admired director of sustainability for the Kraken who has been deeply and authentically in love with a queer partner for the last five years. By her own telling, if you encountered B in high school or before Thanksgiving of their freshman year at the University of Oklahoma, you likely wouldn’t recognize that teenager as the same person.

“If you had met me in 2011 when I was going into college, maybe you wouldn't even know me,” said B during a wonderful hour-plus sitdown/shareout last Monday. “I wasn't as outgoing. I pretty much kept to myself. I didn't like to share a lot.”

Um, that is not the case these days, as Monday night’s Kraken game against New Jersey marks the team’s fourth annual Pride Night presented by Symetra. B has been part of them all, along with hundreds of sports and entertainment events since B joined the Kraken two months into the inaugural season. There’s plenty of evidence to support a tidal change in this outgoing, fiercely committed activist for both LGBTQ+ civil rights and sustainability’s role in healing our planet. In fact, those two causes intertwine in a similar fashion. B is using the full rolling pronouns of she/her and they/them.

And it follows that her true love for Lauren is a necessity for fueling those passions. The couple has traversed through B’s long work hours dedicated to the sustainability mission, becoming stronger as partners.

If you insist upon a tangible proof case of B’s charisma unleashed, then check out this video of our esteemed and beloved sustainability spirit leader engaging with Kraken players on proper recyclables and waste disposal.

Pacing the Kitchen at Thanksgiving

The B we know and see at the Kraken Community Iceplex and Climate Pledge Arena started sharing in earnest on Thanksgiving day back in 2011. She was pacing back and forth in her parents’ kitchen in Broken Arrow, OK.

“I'll never forget,” said B. “My mom finally says, ‘Well, what's wrong? I can tell something's on your mind. And I kind of just broke down because, I mean, I was taught in the [Catholic] church [and school] that if you're gay, then you're going to hell no matter what, like totally gone, kicked out.”
“From preschool to the start of college, I just felt like somebody I wasn't. I was hiding who I really was, everything that was my true self. I didn't really know what that meant or what my capabilities were because I kept them hidden because I didn't want anybody to find out anything I didn't want them to find out. Who I really am was tucked under all these secrets I kept ... I was afraid my family wouldn't accept me, my friends wouldn't accept me, and where I was living wouldn't accept me.”

B’s mom said, “I know, I’ve known, and I’m glad you told me.” But, real life here, that didn’t solve the matter in one exchange before Thanksgiving dinner. It provided an opening for B’s mom to work through the concept. B didn’t tell Dad that holiday but did so “soon after while we were in the car together.” Their father said “he kind of figured” since she had no apparent boyfriends. In that talk, B learned Dad’s brother was gay, providing a foothold of reference. But both parents were grappling with the church-going belief that their daughter was hell-bound, and maybe they both were as well for raising a gay child.

Broken Arrow is a sizeable suburb of Tulsa. In a stroke of good fortune, a priest at the parish where the Treat family worshipped was less conservative than others of the cloth back then. In a conference requested by B’s parents, the priest told them he did not believe their daughter was bound for hell, that maybe “a lot of people in this church do, but I don’t think that’s true.” B said that “gave my parents a lot of ease that maybe they were searching for but didn’t know of other parents who had someone queer in their families.” What’s unfolded for B’s parents will prompt knowing nods from the LGBTQ+ community: Over time, the Treats discovered all sorts of parents and friends who had queer children and family members, plus some of those people themselves.

Hair Apparent: Working Toward a True Self in Seattle

After telling her father, B shared being queer with her two sisters and brother and “they couldn’t be more supportive now.” Emphasis on ‘now.’

“It took a lot of uncomfortable time for everybody to get used to it, including myself,” said B. “Because I'd been hiding for 21 years. And all of that is a hard thing to unpack. A pivotal moment for me was actually when I cut my hair. I'd always felt uncomfortable with long hair. But I knew that if I cut it, it was an obvious sign, right? Especially in Oklahoma, where there weren't many people that had short hair like me, especially women, right? So crazy but true: I cut my hair. And, honestly, that's exactly when my life kind of started.”

B first started by cutting her once near-waist-length hair in increments – halfway down her back, just hitting the shoulders, up closer to the ears – not making the full move to a barber (and these days, a queer barber here in the Capital Hill neighborhood,) until five years ago at age 27.

“Although I came out in college, that's when I had to figure out who this new person was,” said B, “who am I anymore, what's my personality? How do I actually want to dress? I’ve still been figuring that out over the last five to 10 years.”

“Moving to Seattle has helped a lot because of just the LGBTQ+ community here and just the safeness that this city does bring to queer people in a way that I've never experienced.

I'd stay even to this day, I'm still trying to figure it out, because of all the time I had lost.

That’s where the Kraken come into play, said B: “I've never had a job where I felt I could be this gay, right? One in which I could present myself the way that I wanted, but still be taken seriously, especially in a leadership role. I never thought that would be possible ... moving to Seattle has really opened my eyes to the acceptance from this team and the arena, especially with me being more of a public figure to this organization.”

Finding a Happy and Loving Medium

B was working in Dallas back then and soon after that met Lauren on a dating app in which they discovered they both loved the outdoors, going to concerts and shows, and enjoying all sorts of foods.

“I wish it was some crazy story where we were on a vacation and locked eyes, and there it was,” said B, gently laughing. “Like a lot of people our age we met on a dating app and just took a chance on each other and ended up going on our first date at the Dallas Farmers Market. We had some of the best tacos and coffee and sat on a bench. It was a beautiful day, and I just kicked off from there. We dated a few months and our anniversary, when we officially became girlfriends, is this week, January 4th.

When B saw an employment listing for a sustainability professional, she sensed it might be a dream job, one of many for those of us fortunate to work for the Kraken and Climate Pledge Arena. Yet B wouldn’t apply without talking it out with Lauren. They were then living together in Dallas. Lauren urged them to apply and, if offered, take it, whether Lauren went with her or not. These are two mature adults talking. B got the job, and Lauren decided to move with her.

Like almost all love stories, the current joy between B and Lauren did not develop without challenges and adjustment. In this case, there was balancing B’s routine seven-day work weeks in the early months and Lauren keeping her former job but working remotely. B had a built-in set of colleagues for uplifting interaction. Lauren eventually moved back to Dallas, though the couple kept talking by phone and text. The couple realized how much they wanted to be together, yet Lauren made it clear some things had to change, such as B making time and, importantly, preserving the energy to spend meaningful time together. As aforementioned, these are two mature adults we’re talking about.

“We just did things way differently [when Lauren moved back to Seattle]’” said B. “I learned from the mistakes of our first six months here. I was definitely at fault. Now, I am making sure that I'm inserting Lauren into spaces of my job and my career in this community in a way that maybe I didn't have time or just didn't know how to do ... I'm really proud of her for making the decision, not necessarily to leave, but to choose herself in a way that.”

Kudos to the Queer Community

The couple has since sought out the multitude of queer events and organizations here in Seattle. It’s a rich and diverse community the Kraken and One Roof are honored to celebrate Monday night and, truly, all year.

“Before I moved up here, I was really questioning my career in sustainability,” said B. “I struggled, feeling like I was not making a real impact. That's important to me in anything I do; I want it to make a positive impact. I really do feel here, in a positive way compared to any other place I've been, we get that top-down support to make a true impact.”