Allgenda

About Allgenda

Allgenda started with a bathroom.

Hi. I make Allgenda. I'm a trans person (she/they), and I built the first version because I went looking for it, couldn't find it, and needed it too much to wait for permission.

Here's the not-so-glamorous truth: a lot of my decisions about where to go in public come down to the bathroom. Is there one I can use without a whole thing happening? Single-stall, or am I rolling the dice? Will someone say something? My body runs the math before I've even decided to leave. It sounds small. It is not small. For a lot of us, the bathroom is where public space quietly decides whether we get to be in it. Some days it's the difference between leaving the house and not.

Allgenda is me trying to take a little of that weight off your shoulders, and mine. It's a growing set of tools for the ordinary, unglamorous parts of queer life, like finding a place where you can pee in peace, sounding more like yourself, keeping up with what's actually happening, and finding your people.

Where it started

It started with Inclusive Spaces, a directory of inclusive restrooms and trans-friendly venues, where every listing shows who verified it, how, and when. No vibes, no "looks friendly enough." Receipts.

Then there's Voice Lab. I wanted to work on my voice, but a speech therapist costs more than I can spend most weeks, and honestly I can't always get to one. So I built the thing I wished I had, a private place to practice with real-time feedback. Kind of like a rubber duck you can actually talk to. If you don't have a voice coach or a big queer community to practice in front of, it's for you.

And it keeps going. A community forum (Commons) so the questions we already trade in DMs have a home. Queer news that's cited and dated instead of doom (The Agenda). A library of vetted legal, medical, and mutual-aid resources, put together by actual people instead of scraped off the web (The Library). Some of this is live today. Some is on the way.

The pieces

One brand, six surfaces. Same posture across all of them. Every fact traces to a person and a date, no third-party ad trackers, and a real share of every dollar back to the movement.

How the money works

Browsing is free, and always will be.

So is adding a place or claiming one. The premium tools cost money eventually, through a credit system called Allgenda Dues, and only the premium parts, never the basics.

5% of every dollar goes to a nonprofit you pick at checkout, from a short list of ten we chose by hand. I'll publish the receipts every quarter once the first payouts go out, so you can see exactly where it went. That's five times the usual corporate 1% pledge. I say it loud because most queer-targeted apps are ad-supported, sell your data, or quietly keep every cent. Our lives are not a quarterly opportunity, and our money should land where we say it lands.

What I care about

Build something you want to see

I built something that affects me and the people I love. If you can, build too. It doesn't have to be an app. Start a reading group. Volunteer. Call your reps. Make the thing you keep wishing existed.

Nobody is coming to do this for us. So we do it for each other, with whatever we've got and however slowly. That's what I want this place to feel like: our collective stubbornness, in website form.

Who builds this

Allgenda is independent and bootstrapped. No investors, no ads, no trackers following you around the internet. It's small, a little scrappy, and built by someone who uses it every single day. There's a lot of room in it for you to help shape what it becomes.

A couple of word things, since they matter: I say "pronouns," not "preferred pronouns." "Trans people," not "transgenders." And I describe venues by what they actually do (like "has an all-gender single-stall restroom"), not how I feel about them.

Find an inclusive space →Try Voice Lab →Or add a place you know