–“The World I Used to Be Afraid Of” by Blanche

Some of the first gay films I ever saw dealt also with the subject of the early days of HIV/AIDS, films like Longtime Companion, Angels In America, and Love! Valour! Compassion!, and Jeffrey (this still continues today with viewings of The Witnesses, Parting Glances, and The Living End). I was a confused new teenager with cable and insomnia, so I would stay up and watch anything that had to do with homosexuality (with a particular fixation on gay men, even then I felt more akin to them than to lesbians). It just happened that most of the films I saw were a little before my time.

I am pretty fresh and sheltered when it comes to the history and realities of HIV/AIDS in our community; I wasn’t born until the early 90’s, have almost always lived in suburbia, and have never known anyone who has HIV/AIDs, let alone died from it.  According to Larry Kramer, that puts me in the league of the lazy, uneducated gays of my generation by default (after he admonishes me for calling myself queer).  However, I strive to be neither purposefully ignorant nor excessively fearful.

Dame, die sich die Hände wäscht by Gerard ter Borch, taken from Wikimedia Commons

As I try to enter the world of dating and sex, I find myself periodically asking the question, “Would I date someone who was positive?” “Would I still hook up with them after they told me?” Looking at the OkCupid and ManHunt profiles of cute guys who are brave enough to clearly admit their status in their profiles (because, it is hard to be upfront about things that are often considered “less than ideal”), it certainly doesn’t rule them out in my mind. If you want to be ruled out in my book then show an open dislike for intellectual pursuits or put something along the lines of “no fats or flamers” in your profile.

There is definitely still a lot of unfair treatment and generalizations made. I can relate in more than one way to being stigmatized for a medical issue and have it become an automatic disqualifier in people’s eyes. There is this judgment that you can see pass through people’s eyes, and often that appalling silence that follows or that damn “Oh…” followed by the silence and judgment.  I don’t have HIV/AIDS, so I cannot fully understand, but I’d like to think I can at least make an effort not to be prejudiced despite my unintentionally sheltered upbringing.

It is really interesting hearing what my peers think about HIV and people who happen to have it.  For the most part, it seems more like a punchline to them than anything else.  With the exception of some of the social justice types with their sights firmly set on Africa and Bono, it seems to have disappeared from the mindset of those around me except in the form of a joke or an eyeroll when adults lecture about the importance of protection.  Our thoughts seem so separate from the interpersonal side of things.  I wonder what their responses would be if I asked, “Would date someone who was positive?” If it is anything like the responses I hear from many people about the question, “Would you date someone who is transgender?”, then clearly we have some things we need to talk and think about these matters on a personal, human level rather than technical terms and afterschool specials.

“Search for meaning in sores

–“Sympathy” by Sleater-Kinney

I have the amazing power to make people’s heads explode.  How do I do it?  I can merely just out myself.  The problem is that this usually follows a bunch of questions that I really don’t want to answer (either because I’ve answered them before or they are put in an invasive/offensive way).  This superpower and the consequences of it could most likely primarily be traced to the audience of this information.

I may have mentioned before that I go to a pretty progressive and liberal campus.  You would think that I would take advantage of this fact by hanging around with as many understanding and informed students as I could.  Well…It didn’t really work out that way in terms of where I mainly haunt on campus (when I am not pacing up and down). Of all the places I could pick to spend my time, I picked hanging around with the Orthodox Jewish kids.

Now, this not to say that all Orthodox kids are sheltered and completely aware of LGBTQ identities, because that’s certainly not true.  Actually, my two best and most accepting friends on campus happens to be a straight, cisgender Orthodox guy and his girlfriend. Yet, on the whole, it hasn’t been a pretty picture.  There are people who have known me for almost a year, have heard people refer to me as “he” or as a guy, but still call me “she” or include me in statements such as “we have x number of girls right now”

There is now a well-known incident amongst my friends in which a person, being told that I was male-identified and that there were certain questions that are rude to ask. Well, what kind of questions am I suddenly ambushed with by this person at dinner? “So…What are you biologically?” I kid you not.  I nearly had a panic attack after that whole event because I was afraid of what kind of questions that I’d get from other people or what she’d try to get me shunned/ousted from being a part of the campus Hillel for religious reasons.  Luckily, she didn’t…But it is easy to tell that she seems quite uncomfortable with my presence.  Plus, I am rather sure her grandma gave me a weird look when her family visited recently (oh my…Did someone do the “Guess what I just met!” phone call home?).  Another, lesser-known incident (with a different person) involves being told at Shabbat dinner that Levi is a great, Biblical (and male) name and that she’d love to name her future son Levi…But then about 20 minutes later explicitly referring to me as “one of the women” that was there.

At this point, I really don’t try to correct some of these students when they get my gender identity and pronouns wrong. Partially because I don’t want a repeat incident, and partially because being the first trans person that someone has ever encountered can be pretty rough. There are some fellow queer students that keep their relationships an open secret around the same circles because they don’t want others to be uncomfortable.  So, I can’t tell whether or not they already know and just refuse to deal with it or if they are just going off my appearance and voice (which I have said before honestly does not “pass” as male very well).  It is an interest contrast to the rest of campus, where when they hear someone call me “he” enough times or a friend say “Levi’s a boy”, almost always tend to either correct themselves without fanfare, or profusely apologize for thinking/calling me otherwise.

Personally, I don’t want to be anyone’s representation for the trans community.  I don’t want to be the first person to try to explain the difference between gender identity and sexual orientation.  Honestly, I’d prefer not to have to clean up brain matter after I tell people that I’m trans and gay. But I guess that I may have to if I want my identity to be respected.

“Hold me, hold me in your arms
Well, now heal me, heal me with your touch
Your touch keeps me hangin’ on”

–”Hold Me In Your Arms” by the Black Keys

I don’t hug people. It is something that people tend to learn about me rather quickly. Every time someone comes in to hug me, I tense up, unsure of what is going on or how to react. It ends up that most of the time that I either awkwardly accept the fact that I am being hugged or that I do the ‘one-armed half-hug’.

Actually, I distinctly remember one girl flat-out telling me, “I really need to teach you how to hug properly”. She gave me instructions on three different hugs, and the next time she saw me I tried to follow her directions to the letter. “Better”, she said, “though you don’t have to be focus on doing it exactly right”. I smiled slightly, though a bit embarrassed that my mechanical nature to basic human acts had still shone through.

In high school, I would make it well-known that I disliked hugs or any kind of unwarranted invasion of my personal space. The underclassmen that were so fond of running up and giving hugs were quelled from these actions by my promises of physical harm and/or death. I eventually relented somewhat and let them pet me on the shoulder… but not before first asking if it was okay. For the most part, I would greet my friends by ruffling their hair or with a near-punch done in surprise attack. When I got to college, the approach changed to surprise raptor attacks, but at least I no longer threatened people if they tried to hug me.

My dislike of hugs has taken a new turn the past couple of years. No longer can my discomfort be strictly pinned on my life-long reluctance towards physical contact. It has definitely become a dysphoria issue at this point.

The fact of the matter is that I haven’t had chest surgery and probably won’t be able to for at least 3 or 5 years. Try as I might with layering, binding, etc… the chest exists. I can cover it up as best as I can, but I am hyper-aware that they can be felt when someone hugs me… or at least that’s what I worry. I also worry that it prevents the other person from really just thinking of me as just a guy with no adjective in front of that word (and no unwelcome flesh in front of me). Doesn’t matter who it is hugging me, the person could be queer, straight, cis, trans, whatever; it is always a concern in floating around in my head.

The queer community is a very affectionate one. As opposed to my experiences with cis and straight spaces, queer spaces are filled with a lot of kissing, hugging, and other friendly touches. It was quite a surprise to meet adults who would physically embrace me while still an acquaintance. The first time I met this one person at college the day I moved into the dorms, she hugged me while wearing only a bra and pants. It does make you feel welcome; but when you hate your body, being that close to a new person can be rather jarring. I am still trying to figure out how to handle this as well as my own bodily malcontent. At least I have a few more years to sort it all out, if you want to try to spin it positively. Damn, this sucks.

The discussion of trans bodies and sexual identities is one that, understandably, comes up a lot. There are many opinions on how people should or shouldn’t react to trans bodies, and how such people can or should be able to identify. I think that these topics are very valid and should be talked about. I just want to say before I start talking that these are only my thoughts. Yours might be different, that’s totally okay, and I would love to hear about them.

Many trans people talk about sexual encounters and experiences with non-trans people and how they feel these situations should be handled. Some trans people feel as though they should be treated no differently than a cis person, and yes, I do agree that you shouldn’t be looked down upon or treated as any gender other than what you are. However, I personally accept that my trans body is different from a cis person’s. That’s not to imply that I can’t please someone, or that I’m not “as good” as a cis person. I’m merely stating that I have a different body. (I’m referring to my junk.) I might call it a penis, but I don’t have the kind of penis that most people have when they’re born. (I prefer the phrase “medically assigned penis at birth,” over “Male Assigned at Birth.”

This brings me to my next topic: Some non-trans people feel like they can’t sexually be with a trans person because they’re “not into that” or they’re uncomfortable with their genitals. Now, I don’t think that people should be so quick to judge, especially because they have no idea what’s in my pants. Regardless, I don’t think it’s offensive if someone doesn’t want to get with me because I’m trans. If they’re openly offensive and rude, like saying that I’m disgusting or something, that’s one thing, but if they don’t want to be with me because of my genitals, I don’t have a problem with that. My genitals are different than a cis person’s, and I can’t expect every person to be open to that fact.

I don’t think that people should be so obsessed with genitals and what’s in someone pants. If you like someone, you like someone. I’m not talking about long-term relationships here. I’m really talking more about hooking up with people. If someone’s not experienced with a body like mine, why should I be upset with them because of that? If someone doesn’t want to be with me because of my body, then whatever, it’s their loss. Honestly, I do have a different body than a cis person, and because of the (unfortunate) fact that people are largely obsessed with genitals, how can I blame someone?

I completely respect trans guys who want to be treated as cis guys, when it comes to sexual stuff. I think that’s totally valid and fine. This might be TMI, but personally, I like being penetrated. I like my genitals, and I think that could make things confusing for other people and how they feel they should/can interact with me sexually. For example, I want my manhole fucked — warned you about the TMI. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who was like, “But, I thought you’re a guy. Aren’t you supposed to want a dick? I don’t want to touch you like that.” Yeah, I am a guy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t like my junk and it doesn’t mean that I have to want to ignore my desires in order to feel validated.

I think it’s dangerous and somewhat problematic to have set standards or ideas of how people (trans or cis) should or can interact sexually with trans people. There is no guide! Not every trans person wants to be touched the same way, not every trans person feels the same way about their genitals, or their body, etc. It’s comparable to an experience with a cis person in that not every cis person likes the same thing when it comes to their bodies. People don’t walk around saying, “Do this and that and you’ll be all set.” No, that’s not how it works. You need to communicate with each partner to find out what they do/don’t like and what they’re comfortable with. It’s not different with trans people. Communication is key in any relationship (sexual or otherwise).

I do think that people shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I do think that people should be open to new experiences, and of course, I do think that people should respect my body and my identity, but the hard truth is that not everyone is like that. A lot of people aren’t open to new experiences. There are a lot of people who wouldn’t be able to “get past” my genitals and what they think they are. If someone was like that, I wouldn’t want to be with them anyway, even just as a hook up.

The next topic – can a lesbian date a transguy? Does that make her not a lesbian anymore? This topic gets a lot of attention with many different opinions. Please hear me out on this before you assume what I might be implying, because you most likely will have the wrong idea at first. My take on this is that, yes, I think a lesbian can date a trans guy, just like a lesbian could date a straight man or a gay man if she wanted to, or just like a gay man could date a woman if he wanted to. I’m not saying that it’s okay for a lesbian to date a transguy just because they’re trans, or just because of their junk. I’m only saying it’s possible because I believe that sexuality is mostly fluid, and I think that anyone could possibly fall in love with anyone, regardless of labels. The thing is, people flip out about labels. I understand that labels can be useful for meeting like-minded people or identifying with/to others, but I feel like sometimes people become too protective.

If a lesbian falls in love with one transguy or cis guy, or a gay man falls in love with one woman, who I am to say that they’re a lesbian or they’re not a gay man? Shit happens. Maybe the person is attracted to the same gender 99 percent of the time, they consider themselves gay, and they happen to fall for someone who is a different gender. Yeah, that might make them in a non-gay or non-lesbian relationship, but it also doesn’t necessarily imply that they’re attracted to other people of that gender, so why do labels matter so much? Why should their label be invalidated or taken away?

Again – I’m not saying that I think it’s okay for lesbians to be like, “Oh, I’m into pre-t transguys because let’s face it, they have a vagina.” That’s not what I’m saying at all, and I hope it’s being conveyed correctly. I’m merely saying that I think labels can be restricting and if someone falls for someone outside of that label one time, then why should their identity be revoked or invalidated?

I know that there are many takes on this whole topic, and I’d love to hear more thoughts. This stuff can be very controversial, but I don’t think that should stop people from talking about it or expressing their opinions.

"Boots on TV" by Alex Jacobi, taken from Wikimedia Commons

“People knock on my door, ringing my phone
Telling me the things I gotta get done today
To satisfy them, but what about me?
Lately I’ve been wishing I was brain dead
No responsibilities in my head today
Maybe we’ll see what’s on TV”

–“Nothing With You” by the Descendents

This is not the Summer of Love (unless you’re offering to make it such); this is the Summer of My Netflix Account and DVR. In my adventures in screen-viewing, I have learned one basic tenet:  You have to go through a lot of shit to find a gem. This is especially true when trying to find portrayals of trans and intersex characters that aren’t cringe-worthy or hollow two-dimensional characters. We have to sit through Boys Don’t Cry (which will make you want to hide in the closet forever), Quagmire’s Dad episode of Family Guy, The L Word,” and the like.

Here are five episodes or films that didn’t make me want to bang my head against a wall:

Warning: Major Spoilers Ahead

1. Degrassi: The Next Generation, episodes “My Body Is a Cage Part 1 and 2” (2010)

Every time I completely write off Degrassi, it finds some way to pull me back in. Degrassi did an interesting and brilliant thing in not revealing that the character Adam Torres was trans. He was just portrayed as an ordinary underclassman boy who liked comics and hanging out with his best friends. So he already had a fanbase (and quite a few straight teen girls who thought he was cute) before these two episodes aired. He comes out to his best friends and, though they have a few trans 101-type questions, they are perfectly accepting. Adam desperately wants to be a regular kid though, mentioning how annoyed he is that he can’t play contact sports like his older brother, and then gets brutally rejected and outed after the girl he’s flirting with finds out he’s trans, which leads to some horrific bullying. It also shows his family’s path to real acceptance, who still have trouble with pronouns and letting go of their “daughter,” though they love and support Adam.  I really hope Degrassi doesn’t fuck this up later (as they tend to do).

2. XXY (2007)

This is a gorgeously shot little film out of Argentina that centers on an intersex teenager. Alex, living in a small coastal town with her parents, is raised female, but is clearly rebelling against that placed identity. When a doctor and his family come to visit, at the suggestion of Alex’s mother, we learn that the intention is to wager on the idea of genital surgery to make Alex “more female.” The parents and the doctor figure out that Alex has been hiding away the estrogen pills rather than taking them, and are very torn about this. Alex’s mother is the one pressuring her to consider surgery, while her father believes in the right to choose on her own how to live, whether it is as his daughter or his son.

Alex also forms a close and sexual bond with the quiet, gay son of the doctor, which in turn causes him to be more accepting of his sexuality and less introverted. Both are teenagers discovering who they are and their path to happiness, like everyone did at that age, queer or not. In the end, Alex chooses not to continue hormone treatments or have surgery and decide for herself (or himself, the film deliberately leaves the final decision ambiguous), and everyone else in the film in altered for the better.

3. Freaks and Geeks, episode “The Little Things” (2000)

This was one of the three episodes that were unaired during the original NBC run, and it was actually one of the first two Freaks and Greeks episodes I ever saw. Also, one of the very few times on a mainstream US broadcast that an intersex character isn’t played for laughs or shock-value. It also deals with gender identity vs. sexual orientation.  When Ken’s (played by Seth Rogen) girlfriend Amy tells him in a moment of intense trust that she was actually born intersex (yet asserts that she’s absolutely a girl), Ken doesn’t immediately reject her; he is confused, but initially says that he’s fine with it. After getting some cruel remarks from his closest guy friends who say that he’s gay because she’s “not really a girl,” Ken starts to act more distant towards Amy, who then feels like he’s rejecting her.

After figuring out that he’s not gay in a scene involving experimentation with 80s gay porn magazines and dance music, (which shows the lack of information available about gay people in pre-Internet suburbia) Ken still feels pressured to break up with Amy even though he clearly really likes and cares about her.  In a chance encounter in the bathroom hearing about Sam’s girlfriend problems (she treats him badly, is a Republican, and likes none of the same stuff he does), Ken realizes that Amy is a great girlfriend, he loves her, and that none of the other stuff matters.  He apologizes to her for being foolish and kisses her in the hallway before her school band concert.

4. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994)

Okay, I admit that I am pretty biased about this film because it is one of my all-time favourites. Basically, Bernadette takes no prisoners. She’s lived an interesting and hard life (the movie starts out with her learning that her lover died). It is refreshing to have a film that doesn’t go through Trans 101, is absolutely hilarious without being cruel, and has a trans character that is self-reliant and unafraid.

Hell, in a scene where she and the other protagonists are refused service in a rough and rural town by a very rude and gruff woman, Bernadette delivers the epic line, “Why don’t you go light your tampon and blow your box apart … Because it is the only bang you’re ever going to get.” Then proceeds to defeat the woman in a drinking contest and win the respect of everyone in the bar. In the end, she even finds love, and we can only help to assume that she and Bob proceed to spend the rest of their twilight years together. Plus, this is one of the few ways I can hear ABBA and not want to kick something.

5. Better Than Chocolate (1999)

The film itself was mediocre, but it is in this list just for this scene. Maybe I should write a song like this called “I’m Not a Butch Lesbian.”

And for being one of the very, very few films I have ever seen that shows a trans character as not a heterosexual. The only other one I can think of would be the Danish film En Soap, currently next on my Netflix queue. Judy eventually ends up with the shy lesbian bookseller, Frances. Personally, I wish the film had been mainly about Judy and Frances rather than the central couple and the family drama between them.

• Honorable mention: Normal (2003)

I was about 12 years old when this film came out, and I saw it on HBO. I was pretty floored by it, though didn’t understand all of it, especially anything to do with sex and love. I watched it again during Spring semester to see if it still had the same effect it did on me when I was a pre-teen. It actually affects me more now than it did back then. It is almost too painful to watch now in many parts, but the fact that love and family transcends intolerance and ignorance is really powerful.  Other than Degrassi, this would be what I would show my family in hopes of better understanding, because it is quite straightforward without talking down; these are average people in the American midwest. Not to mention it was extremely well-acted. (Tom Wilkinson and Jessica Lange are pretty much always amazing, duh.)

I’ll disclaim now that these selections are only my personal tastes.  Though it is interesting to note that two of these films are not from the US (okay, Degrassi is technically Canadian, but that doesn’t count); XXY, as previously mentioned, is from Argentina, and Priscilla is Australian.  In my research (aka surfing Netflix), I have noticed that there are actually quite a few foreign films that have trans characters. Spanish director Pedro Amodovar has had numerous trans characters in his films, like in All About My Mother and Bad Education; there’s also the Spanish musical film called 20 Centimeters, Beautiful Boxer from Thailand, Belgium’s Ma Vie En Rose, and the gender-switching Orlando in the UK film adaptation of the book. All these films are of trans women. Unfortunately I have yet to find any foreign films that feature trans men. Even here in the US, in terms of  trans men in non-documentary films, there is pretty much only Boys Don’t Cry and Itty Bitty Titty Committee, both of which I hated.  And don’t even get me started on Max from The L Word.

If you have any suggestions or comments, feel free to email me or post below.  Once again, I’ll admit that I am certainly no authority on films or trans people, but no one technically is, which makes both more wide-ranging and complex.

c. Wuyouyuan, Wikimedia Commons

I don’t mean old magazines, clothes you haven’t worn in a year, gifts you forget to give to someone two years ago, or dust bunnies in the corner. I’m talking about the closet of sexual desires, dirty little secrets, hidden dark fantasies, lost ambitions, and best keep plans for the future.

Now I have been literally and metaphorically cleaning out my closet. I’ve parted with so much litter and clutter. Garbage bag after garbage bag found its way to the trash. [Hefty! Hefty! Hefty! Wimpy, wimpy, wimpy.] Possessions I’ve carried with me for ten plus years and were shelved are finding a new home; a little cash in the pocket never hurts, but knowing that someone else will use them and not sit in landfill is just as good.

So why clean now?

It’s time. It’s time to move on, move away, and just grab life by the waist and wrestle it into submission.

Several weeks ago I braved a day trip to Philadelphia for a trans/queer health conference and attended some sessions. It was the largest registration this conference ever had.  I had never been around so many queers or trans people in my life. It was my utopia of a queer family, blended and nuclear, somehow connected through a ramified family tree.

It amazed me to learn how far some of these conference goers traveled just to attend this health conference and the sense of comradery, respect, and love they had for each other. Everyone was the
same, yet so different. Some were like me; some weren’t. The sessions and booths were an amazing sense of validation. Topics ranged from queer sex, hormones, and surgical options to gender expression,
relationships, and more It was rejuvenating having the opportunity to spend a day focusing on gender queer and trans issues.

Sadly, I kept to myself for most of the day. I wasn’t in the positive social mood which a conference like that deserved, but being around like people was a refreshing breathe of air [Out with the bad; in with
the good.] Even though this anti-social caterpillar kept to herself, she kept close ear on a particular group of trans and queer folk from the DC, Baltimore, Annapolis and NoVA area. [Hindsight, I regret not
introducing myself to that lively group. They must have known each other from an online message board because they kept referring to each other with goofy nickname handles and going “So you're so-and-so.”]

My day eventually blossomed when I ran into people I knew. I’ll spare their remarks, but they were rather surprised to see me there of all places. By the end of the day, this social butterfly had
her own little group to exchange with. [Take that anti-social caterpillar!]

The drive home Saturday night after the conference set me at unease knowing that I was not complete and a bit unorganized, in general. I had been putting off the task of getting “my life together” for some
time now. [Really, who wants to take the time and access their own life? It's boring and can be rather depressing and discouraging!] With summer already here and ample time to spare, there was really no
excuse to put it off.

I spent the next couple weeks accessing and categorizing those dust bunnies, spider webs, and musty mildewing boxes in my closet and head. The dust pan, broom and trash bins were well used, filled and emptied many times over. I’m not exactly sure but somehow those scattered, muddled assets were prioritized, and just in time for DC and Baltimore Pride.

Pride was a flight demonstration of the refurbished me, my “new” self. The goal was simple: have fun and meet people. And to be honest, it worked. Holy shit did it work! The “clean up” definitely radiated
through everyone I interacted with. My presence had a much needed shimmer of confidence and demonstrated ease-of-grace that had been lacking for the last six years.

Why?

I felt the things I owned, physically and emotionally, owned me. I no longer wanted to be bound by it. I wanted to be liberated and have an opportunity. I wanted to make the changes in my life I had been putting off for years.

Physical items take up space. You carry them from apartment to apartment. They clutter up a room and collect dust. A framed picture in its special place eventually fades, gets buried, and most likely is
replaced by a brighter, crisper, more meaningful one. Quite frankly, I no longer had space or need for them in my life. The excrement of years of schooling, moving, and laziness came to an end. The buried
items I always wanted to do something with met their purpose. A select few were repackaged; most took the happy walk with Mr. Hefty.

Sentimental items are a wee bit more difficult to discard than their physical counterparts. A symbiotic dependency is formed and attaches itself to these cherished keepsakes. As with time, we forget why exactly we saved them. But of all the clutter I tossed, sold, and gave away, nothing was more difficult than sorting out the shit in my head.

Emotional baggage by far is the most difficult. The closet-filled-head of old vintage hat boxes, little chic jewelry containers, delicate pill boxes, and heirloom cedar chest collect more than their share of unwanted feelings and memories. They are deceptive at times, misdirecting the emotional assessment. Others remind us of foolish immature dreams. But once recognized and re-appropriated, discarded, or let go, a wash of liberation cleanses our direction. All this was long overdue- the emotional and physical assessment and inventory.

The benefits of this time intensive and mentally exhausting exercise are already paying off. I have been more forthcoming with my needs, expectations, and goals. That’s right people. This girl has a five-year plan! And for the first time, I’m learning how to be friends with someone I have feelings for, for someone I know that does not, and will never, feel the same about me.

Now I ask you again, what’s in your closet? And, when was the last time you cleaned it?

Then come join our staff! We want to know what you have to say.

Submit your articles to submit@thenewgay.net.

TNG has always been a forum for people to raise their own voices, speak their own unique viewpoints, to ensure that the entire queer spectrum is represented. And we can’t reach that goal without you.

So if you have something to say, send it over!

c. Scott Flaherty, Wikimedia Commons

“I’ll hide behind a smile and understanding eyes
And I’ll tell you things that you already know so you can say:
I really identify with you, so much
And all the time that you’re needing me is just the time
That I’m bleeding you, don’t you get it yet?
I’ll come to you like an affliction then I’ll leave you like an addiction
You’ll never forget me… you wanna know why? “

–“Liar” by the Rollins Band

Those who hurt us the most are almost always the ones who manage to worm themselves most deeply into our lives and struggles.

As someone who is quite new (and young in terms of age) to the queer and trans communities, one of the main pieces of advice I get from friends is that I really need to watch my back.  But when they say that, they aren’t just talking about the homophobes, transphobes, and hometown bigots, those threats are well-known.  No, what they are really trying to warn me about are the people WITHIN the community who prey upon others.

It is unfortunate, but it is a common thing in every community, especially in communities that are maligned by the “mainstream.” I have heard multiple cases of people in the queer community being taken advantage of by other queers.  These have been things such as finances being taken by a partner, being pressured into drugs or unsafe sexual practices, and physical and emotional abuse. I can think of a few people who are getting decked if they ever cross my path for such crimes against my friends. Since our identities and relationships tend not to be recognized by the legal authorities, so there usually is no legal intervention or solution taken.  Most often, the predators get away and continue with their misdeeds.

One of the most complex and well-known cases of this is the controversy surrounding trans photographer Kael T. Block.   He is very notorious in the trans community both for his stunning photographs of trans men and for the multiple accusations of rape against him.  Since no court case or the like has happened yet, the queer/trans community has been using online social media (blogspot, Facebook, and especially tumblr) to discuss the case.  Since opinions are sharply divided, there have been writings defending Kael or separating the art from the artist and those warning others/calling for boycotts of his work.  (I shall refrain from putting in my personal opinion on this matter, because I don’t feel it is my place to comment).

Essentially, the community to which the party(s) belongs to has to decide how to handle these situations.  However, there is a fine line between tribal justice and vigilantism.  How do we make sure to distinguish between the two but still protect others?  Is it our place to ensure justice?  The most common action is to just warn the newcomers (such as myself), but we all know that warnings often go unheard or the danger proves too charming.  Plus, if you’re an inexperienced, insecure, lonely person (such as myself), then there’s a chance that you’ll submit to anyone who will show you attention and a compliment.  To be honest, it is something that I worry about a lot.

Every community has a few bad apples.  There are always wolves that hide in sheep’s clothing, there are always predators.  We expect better and like to think that our members aren’t capable of harming others who share our outsider status…But the sad thing is that you never have to go very far to hear that is not true.  Be careful, friends.

c. Olliwalli, Wikimedia Commons

“Catching butterflies, line drives, watching TV
I had seven good years ’til they noticed they were looking at me
I didn’t like what they see”

–“Free to Go” by Folk Implosion

I have back from school for less than a month, and already I am feeling antsy and stifled. This is one overheated and stuffy closet that I’ve been forced back into, and not just because the air conditioning has been broken for a few years now.

College can be a wonderful thing, the chance to experiment, explore, learn, and be open about ourselves. However, let’s not forget the fact that it doesn’t last year-round. Come May or June, most of us have to pack up and go back to our families and hometowns, and depending on where you’re from and your situation, that’s not exactly a good or exciting thing.

There’s the stuff that tends to happen when you come home regardless of situation. Your mom tells you that you’ve gained some weight; your grandmother says that you’re too skinny and she’s going to feed you; Dad’s raising his eyebrow at your grades and choice of classes; the siblings think you dress funny/badly now. You’re worried about the length of your sleeves because you don’t want your family to know about that tattoo you got over Spring Break. But if you’re queer, it can be more precarious, possibly even hostile.

Of course, there are some families that are perfectly fine and accepting, and some people who live in a place with a thriving community (there isn’t one where I live, but there are two about an hour away). For those not as fortunate, we often have no other choice but to go back into the closet until Fall Semester starts up again.

If you’re gay, it means avoiding all those prying questions about your love life back in college, and late-night phone calls or Skype sessions to your sweetheart while trying to keep your voice down so your family doesn’t overhear.  It also means that you should probably hide that rainbow “Recruiter” t-shirt until you can sneak out for Pride (tell your parents that you’re “just going out to hang with some friends”).  If you’re trans, it is even more intensive than that. Either way it just sucks, often with various levels of suckage at different times.

I must say, it is a real switch from the euphoria where everyone on campus calls you by your chosen name to going home where barely a handful of people even know about that name. It becomes painfully obvious any time I hear my family refer to me as their “daughter” or “older sister” in a statement, like a bad note that causes you to cringe. I have to purposefully remind myself to NOT automatically say, “Hi, I’m Levi” when I am introduced to people, just like I had to train myself over the semester not to refer to myself as my birth name. It can be seriously stressful. After a drama-filled Winter Break involving my mother and her various accusations, I am really not looking forward to three months of the unpredictable.

I’m lucky enough that my wardrobe doesn’t really change between school and home. I’ve always been a jeans and t-shirt/button-down kind of a guy. But it does for many other trans students. Whether it be women’s shirts and underwear hidden away, or hoping your binders and boxer-briefs are not seen in your open suitcase. Pronoun use returns to the ones that feel alien and uncomfortable.

We’re forced back into roles and/or clothes that we don’t identify with. We bite our tongues when comments are made or we’re asked uncomfortable questions. We count the days until we pack up again and the summer heat starts to wane, then we breathe some relief.

Crossposted with permission from Nina Here or There.

****

Courtesy OWN: Oprah Winfrey Network

I really wanted Chaz Bono to be a transgender hero. By sharing his transition in his film, “Becoming Chaz,” and in his memoir, “Transition: The Story of How I became a Man,” he is offering gender-questioning people an intimate entry into his personal experience. With his fame, he is raising much-needed awareness about a marginalized population. But as I, a writer releasing my own transmasculine memoir on the same day as Bono, follow the coverage of his story, I feel like I’m watching a slow-motion media train wreck.

The New York Times article, “The Reluctant Transgender Role Model,” by Cintra Wilson, is the latest troubling piece. Wilson, in what must be an attempt at humor, investigates Bono’s motivations with questions about celebrity damage, gender-bent Oedipal revenge, and reclaiming childhood attention. I imagine Wilson aims to connect with skeptical mainstream readers, but those types of questions push well past curious and cynical to downright ridiculous.

In a cultural climate that forces transgender people to explain themselves at every turn, I cannot be too surprised that Bono plays into another story of overcoming pain and suffering, of transition as the last resort of the suicidal. As a transgender person, I find this narrative exhausting and self-victimizing. Why do we, as trans people, need to keep proving how awful our lives are in order for people to accept us? What if we modified our bodies, not “amputated” parts of them as Wilson so crudely states, because we thought our lives were so beautiful that we wanted to experience them in a vehicle that allowed us our deepest comfort and truest self-expression?

Bono reiterates the standard transgender narrative of identifying as a male since childhood, using as evidence gender stereotypes like “playing sports” to reinforce his case. Once again, it’s hard to blame Bono. The criteria for Gender Identity Disorder (GID) in the current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders refers to gender stereotypes in its diagnosis. Although the article claims GID was only classified as a mental disorder until 1999, this is incorrect. A diagnosis of GID is still required for many trans people seeking gender reassignment surgery, and reinforcing gender stereotypes is the necessary proof. While I cannot question Bono’s experience, I can challenge his facts and make it absolutely clear that his experience isn’t shared by all of us.

Bono says, “There’s a gender in your brain and a gender in your body. For 99 percent of people, those things are in alignment. For transgender people, they’re mismatched. That’s all it is. It’s not complicated, it’s not a neurosis. It’s a mix-up. It’s a birth defect, like a cleft palate.”

First I’d like to know where Bono confirmed the gender in your brain and gender in your body theory. Sure, researchers are looking for hard proof of transsexualism, but they are having about as much success as they are in finding a definitive “gay gene” or “gay brain” structure in homosexuals. The nature vs. nurture debate will continue in gay and lesbian research circles just like the essentialist vs. cultural construction debate will continue in gender research circles. To fall completely to one pole as Bono does with essentialism is to ignore the very complicated topic of gender presentations, expressions, embodiments, roles, and identities as lived in our culture. To Bono’s claim of mismatched alignment for transgender people, this is a gross misrepresentation of all of us.

“Transgender,” in its most common usage, is as an all-encompassing term and self-defined identity available to anyone who doesn’t fit into the man or woman boxes. Transsexuals (female-to-male/FTM like Bono; or male-to female/MTF) are the most well-known group under the transgender umbrella. But there are many trans people who live and identify outside of the stifling constraints of the gender binary. Some pursue hormones without surgery; some pursue surgery without hormones; some choose only to adopt a new name; some use the gender-neutral pronouns “ze” and “hir”; some use self-identifying words that encompass both man and woman, like genderqueer or gender fluid.

Therefore, the conclusion of Wilson’s article relating to diversity is correct, except that Bono actually reiterates the black and white of gender identification by wedding himself completely to the notion of a woman becoming a man. He may offer an alternative understanding of black and white, but as for ushering in a complete wheel of gender (not sexuality as Wilson mistakenly writes) into the mainstream, Technicolor Bono is not.

It’s time for an understanding of transgender experiences and identities to reach mainstream audiences. Bono is, with his celebrity bullhorn, an ideal candidate to be a transgender role model, but after I read that he once had a tolerance for women that he no longer has, he cannot be my hero. I do hope that his story is the starting point, an impetus to expand the conversation beyond sensationalism, gender stereotypes, and the Fashion & Style pages. But this poorly fact-checked article by Cinta Wilson makes me nervous that many will now claim to know about transgender people, and about me, because they read or saw something about Cher’s kid.

***

For another perspective that I think is excellent, check out Oliver Bendorf’s commentary on Autostraddle.

El'Jai Devoureau

Submission by Sylvia Renee, TNG columnist

Sometimes looking, acting, identifying, and generally being regarded both socially and legally as a man just isnt enough, at least as far as El’Jai Devoureau is concerned.

For those of you who havent heard of the case, according to the New York Times, Devourea was fired from his job of watching male bodied people in a rehab center pee in a cup to ensure that they were not cheating their results. His boss found out that he was trans and then she subsequently fired him for failing to meet the requirements for the job-specifically that he was not born with a bundle of veins, nerves, and skin that was initially called a penis.

Obviously, Mr Devoureau, is suing for wrongful termination.

The reasoning behind the boss’s decision to violate the law is very similar to the enduring presence of gender segregated housing: that people with different looking genitals cannot contain themselves at the sight of the opposite set of sexy bits. You know who else likes penises? People who identify as gay/bisexual men. But of course such policies prefer to stick their proverbial heads in the ground and assume that queer people just dont exist.

As fucked up as the situation is the fact that this blatant discrimination happened in New Jersey is really important. You see, New Jersey is one of the few states that has included gender identity in its employment non-discrimination law. Beyond that, this is one of the strongest laws in the country.

According to the Transgender Legal Defense Fund, this is the first case where the court will actually take on the sex of a trans person during an employment case. In other cases where courts have taken up the issue of imposing determining a gender (usually in the case of marriage) the case becomes so mired in biological, social, and legal categorizations that the result is often the legal equivalent of throwing their hands in the air and saying that they had no clue.

While there is no Supreme Court precedent, other federal cases (e.g. Schroer v. Billington and Kastl v. Maricopa County Community College) have had a great deal of success using what is known as the Pierce-Waterhouse doctrine within the employment clause of Title VII, which essentially forbids sex based stereotyping. However, in each case the courts were reluctant to make any broad gestures as to the interpretation of the law.

Which brings us back to New Jersey: Mr Devoureau’s case is only really applicable at the state level. However, if the ruling is interpreted broad enough, there is the possibility that other state or federal cases can use the ruling as a part of their deposition. Either way, this is an extremely important case on the long road toward gaining employment protection rights.

*Warner: Possible spoilers.

This is the fourth in a multi-part series examining queer characters on animated TV shows.

***

Raise your hand if you like Newsradio, NBC’s much-missed screwball work place comedy. Is your hand up? Good. Is it not? Then just get out. Right now. Get out of my sight. I don’t want to look at you! Though it’s ostensible wackiness and pre-Arrested Development laugh track has left Newradio as a sort of Steely Dan-style cause for defense in my day-to-day life, I do believe that sitcom has done more to influence contemporary TV than nearly anything else besides The Simpsons. Foremost, it galvanized the “Live Action Cartoon” style of comedy that can now be seen in shows like 30 Rock and Scrubs.

Splitsider describes the show better than I can, but allow me to use this opportunity as a clumsy segue. Without Newsradio, we would be unlikely to have a show as propulsively slapstick, as perfectly timed and as overwhelmingly loony as the UK’s hit Channel 4 sitcom The IT Crowd. The show is ostensibly about Jen Barber, a technologically inept woman who lies her way into a job managing a glamorous office building’s filthy, basement-kept IT department and its deceptively-attractive resident nerds Morris Moss and Roy Trennemen.

Like many pure comedies, the overarching plot exists only as a jumping off point for endless strings of amazing jokes and site gags. The kind of comedy that makes you choke on your own spit, drop a burning joint onto your own penis without noticing, or “litrally” (Ann Perkins) die from laughter. While many of the jokes can be seen coming from miles away, and most of the characters fall someplace between TV trope and surreal megalomaniac, the show can always rest on its own superb sense of timing.

Take, for instance, an episode called “Are We Not Men?” Uber-dorks Moss and Roy begin frequenting a website called “bluffball.co.uk ” which allows dorky, non-sports type to converse about football with the British bros, or “britbros” as I will be referring to them. There is nothing stereotypically masculine about these two men (Moss lives with him mom, Roy voice is high enough to shatter crystal) and they initially enjoy the tenuous-yet-validating attentions of such broey Brits. Sound familiar? The show ratchets what could be a simply awkward or embarrassing situation up to felonious levels, as the britbros engage their new charges in devious acts like robbing a bank.

Moss has to help Roy both escape said britbros and avoid the police who are on their tail. Capping off a great riff on the things that men will do to avoid feeling unmanly, a string of police cars fly by Roy and Moss in pursuit of the britbros. To keep Roy from being arrested as an accomplice, Moss pushes Roy up against a garage door and kisses him. Instead of just a brief peck to shock the audiences, like when two men kiss on Saturday Night Live, the kiss goes on forever. An impossible number of police cars drive by the pair, forcing them to kiss for the length of Bob Dylan’s “Hurricane.” And that song ain’t short.

You have to see it to fully grasp it, but the show has an expert sense on the “anything’s possible” world of even the most realistic cartoons. The endless cop cars forcing Roy and Moss to kiss for so long isn’t the most original joke, but it is timed so that its laugh-getting potential never fizzles for its duration. Think of The Simpsons episode where Sideshow Bob steps on all those rakes. It was just a throwaway gag used to pad a short episode, but tight writing and ludicrous situations make better bed fellows than you might think.

A later episode, “The Work Outing” sees Jen dating a guy that everyone else suspects is gay. Instead of Dean Pelton-style innuendos, he actually takes her to a big budget musical called “Gay – A Gay Musical.” The cartoonish sensibility of The IT Crowd allows this episode to be a send-up of both bad theater (the show’s catchiest song goes “Willies, willies, I love willies”) and stereotypical gay behavior. The only other such effective fake musical I can remember is “Stop The Planet of The Apes, I Want To Get Off“on The Simpsons. As with all IT Crowd episodes, the jokes come about every fifteen seconds, defy physics and reality while not shying away from special effects or suprisingly managable base humor and keep every joke magically on the right side of good taste.

That is, with one exception. In Series 3′s “The Speech,” the trio’s horses ass of a boss, Douglas Reynholm, meets the woman of his dreams. She confesses to him in bed that she “used to be a man,” but Reyholm mishears this as her being “from Iran.” A long montage ensues of the two of them doing typically manly things together — eating pizza, playing darts — because in the show’s world a transwoman is essentially just a man in a dress. After the astute gender commentary of “Are We Not Men” (just two episodes earlier),this episode’s ending made me queasy. The day after the revelation,  Reyholm beats the transwoman senseless for when she tries to save their relationship. She fights back, and does a good job at it, but this is more  in the name of her being a dude than it was a victory for the trans population.

This is where the “live action cartoon” nature of the show can work against it. On a cartoon, women may get beaten up but it doesn’t have quite the same triggering capabilities. Cartoon women are just that, cartoons. They are rarely trans and, in the case of something like Family Guy, everyone gets their ass kicked. Stewey is just as likely to get pummeled as Lois or Brian.I give props to the show for casting a woman in the role instead of an even cheaper joke-getting device like a hairy dude in a dress, but they just didn’t make the whole scene very funny.

There has never been a fight scene like that in any other episode that I’ve seen and there was nothing particularly clever about the whole handling. A show that doesn’t usually traffic in offense humor could’ve found a much better way to handle this – say, by having the other characters rally around the woman and turn the joke around against Reynholm. Knowing what I know about anti-trans violence, a transwoman getting beaten up for an extended amount of time is hard to be comfortable with. Cartoons are so endearingly popular because they can turn a skewed mirror onto the world we live in, combing the elements of “that would never happen” and “that happens all the time” into timeless comedy. The scene in question here contained nothing of the former and everything of the latter, marking it as a dark spot on the record of an otherwise stellar show.

c. Grzegorz Wysocki, Wikimedia Commons

There’s been quite a bit of activity on here lately questioning the best course of action for achieving the rights of transgendered people, whether it’s in allegiance with the gay and lesbian community or separate. The discussion resulting from these two recent posts has got me wondering, what does “Dropping the T” mean really? How would it impact the different sections of the queer community? How could it be helpful or hurtful towards trans rights? I feel that many individuals commenting on recent posts have differing ideas of how such a disassociation would pan out, resulting in contention, confusion and anger.

I have faith that a vast majority of the voices discussing the viability of “dropping the T” never imagined that trans people would be ejected from the social LGBT community. So much of the queer community fucks with gender, and so many transfolk identify as lesbian, gay or bi. Trans people are an undeniable part of the sexual minority community, and despite our differences, there is strength in that community.  There is some sense of unity.

Honestly, I don’t know enough about queer politics to understand how activism for the trans community would be different. However, from what I understand, there are times when the ‘T’ was sacrificed for the sake of LGB rights. Other times, the trans community was up in arms for being excluded, seemingly yet again, though the legal nature of legislation that passed (favoring the LGB community) simply could not be logically extended to transfolk.

The second case I’m mentioning is Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Honestly, I find the current take on DADT to be quite confusing. Originally, DADT was a compromise to allow gays and lesbians to join the military. First, there was a policy banning gays, then there was a LAW that permitted gays in the military, as long as they didn’t out themselves. Decades later, the queer right community rallied to repeal DADT. I guess the idea is that the underlying policy mindset behind banning gays from the military has changed, while the law requiring discharge for being out stayed on the books. If this was actually the case, then, yes, a repeal of DADT made a lot of sense, with its benefit exclusively for the LGB servicemembers. If this brief summary of events is correct, then how could trans people have been included in this aspect of queer liberation? There’s an important distinction between excluding the ‘T’ for the sake of wider acceptance (like the DOMA fiasco) and the ‘T’ not being included due to the facts on the ground of the political playing field.

Personally, I advocate for equal rights for all and feel an ever-growing connection with the trans community, but I also feel that it’s important for our leaders to openly strategize on how these rights can be won. It’s unfortunate that there is no silver bullet for blanket LGBT rights. We have to work on them piecemeal, with opportunities taken when the time is ripe.

Furthermore, it’s unfortunate that apparently the time becomes ripe for different aspects of the community at different times. As such, some pieces will move forward benefiting one aspect of our community while seemingly leaving other folks “behind.” It’s sad that we don’t apparently have one organization upon which we can rely to come up with a long range strategy for full rights for all members of the community.  Perhaps if such long term goals and visions were successfully communicated and obvious action on such a strategy occurred on a regular basis, all members of the community could perceive a win for any subset of the community as a victory for all of us.

Saint Sebastian, notoriously homoerotic

“Take my nerves to a bliss
Make them swerve into abyss
Stake my nerves make them hiss
Take ‘em apart to a carcass”

–“Take My Heart” by the Black Lips

This is actually pretty hilarious and slightly embarrassing for me to write, because I know that some of my current and former professors/teachers read this. I suppose I should apologize if those people now know more about my (extremely unimpressive) sex life than they ever wanted to.

I now have a profile on a notorious gay cruising site. I’m not going to say which one or give out any details about it, but it does exist.  This completely surprised the few friends that I have told about it, mainly because it is so out of my nature (which we all know by now is timid, passive, and too wrapped up in my own head).

How on earth did this happen?  To be perfectly honest, it was mostly driven by a romantic involvement that suddenly crashed and burned. In that wake and the romantic disillusion that has followed, I decided to separate my previous thoughts that, for me, physical passion and pleasure would/should come along with romance.   Basically, I have attempted to go from just staring at the water and maybe sticking my toes in, to trying to dive right in the deep end.

I have long been a person who tried my best to suppress my sexual needs and desires, not only because I was unsure of myself but also because I was not in a place where I could actively pursue these needs and desires. (Living at home with one’s parents in suburbia was not exactly a conducive to such things.) College is a rather sexually-charged environment, and it is hard to deal with the stories and plans of hookups and other sexual adventures when all you can do is stare with wide-eyed wonder and jealousy.  The dam of sexual repression has to break at some time.

Part of this newfound willingness was also inspired by two other trans guys mentioning that they had profiles on the same site, and had done well with it. Then again, these two guys were way further along in their transitions than I am and “passed” a hell of a lot more than I do.  Despite knowing this, I decided to try anyway in hopes that maybe there would be someone who could look past those for what I could potentially offer sexually.  To repeat what I said when I texted Zack about making the profile, “I am sure there are some gay/queer guys out there that may realize happens to be in one’s  pants does not affect his  ability to suck cock”.   That’s blunt, but there’s nothing subtle about a site where people’s profile pictures tend to be of erect penises and naked rears.  How very far removed this is from my previous ventures of trying to ask people about their favourite books, bands, and intellectual interests are in order to gauge potential.

Before you ask, I will say that nothing has happened yet.  There were a few near-misses (which is more frustrating than not having a slightest chance at all), but ultimately nothing came into fruition. I’m not going to lie and say that this hasn’t resulted in an increase in self-doubt.  There has been at least one friend of mine who has had to listen to late-night rants about how I “fail in love and now am failing in sex as well”.  Though it turns out that I have had some lovely conversations and made some friends on this site…Who goes to a gay cruising site looking for sex and ends up with friends? Somehow I do, apparently.

I can’t help but feel like this is a kind of baptism by fire, and that how well I do really shows if I am actually accepted by cisgender gay male peers.  Actions do speak louder than words after all (and words are hard to form if you have something in your mouth … Such as a penis).

Crossposted with permission from Ofelia Del Corazon.

Find the original version on Mommy Fiercest: Sex, Art & Culture For The Headonist In All of Us.

c. Kevin O'Meara

I fell in love with Heidi Barton Stink the very first time I heard her EP “The Familiar Pattern”.  Heidi’s rhythms are clever and original, her flow is flawless and her raps are relevant with themes ranging from breaking free from shame, addiction, social justice and love.

Like many queers, I’ve had a complicated and tumultuous relationship with hip hop music. Growing up hip hop held a very important place in my life and functioned as part of the sound track of my childhood: it was turntables, beat boxing and teenage boys break dancing on cardboard.

It was also where I got some of my very first lessons about sex and the gender roles of women and men. For a few years after I discovered feminism I didn’t think I could have a loving relationship with hip hop ever again, it wasn’t until I discovered “positive hip hop” that I realized our relationship didn’t have to end, it was just going to change. And boy, I sure am glad.

While Too $hort may be one of my guiltiest pleasures, most days I’d much rather listen to Heidi Barton Stink. Heidi was kind enough to take the time to answer some questions for me.

Mommy Fiercest (MF): It takes a special kind of person to name themselves “Stink.” Personally I find it totally endearing and dirty. Can you explain a little bit about how to you chose this name for yourself?

HBS: I started going by Barton Stink as a temporary moniker when I first started doing solo shows, then I got sick of being called a guy’s name so I threw my name (Heidi) in front.

The original idea was to do a concept album that shared the same themes as the (Minnesota natives) Coen brothers movie Barton Fink, which are writers block and the creative process. After a while i decided thats not the kind of songs I wanted to write and started writing these queer ones… dirty stinky queer ones

MF: Did you grow up listening to hiphop? When did you start rapping?

HBS: I grew up listening to lots of different kinds of music, I know my first cassette tape that got as a kid was MC Hammer. A lot of music I listened to as a pre-teen was hip hop influenced, like Beck and Soul Coughing. Then when I got into high school I started listening to hip hop almost exclusively and started writing raps. I wasn’t very good for many years though

MF: Do you perform much outside of queer scenes? Is the audience mostly straight? I read that you perform in a lot of punk venues. I haven’t been to a punk show, what’s that like?

HBS: Within the last year I’ve been doing mostly queer events and shows. I like rapping for straight people though. I usually blow them away, like they think I’m going to suck because I’m queer then it turns out I’m better live than most of the straight rappers they’ve seen.

MF: Do you do much freestyle? I’ve never even had the pleasure of being around a bunch of queer MC’s at one time. Do you all battle one another? It’s hard to imagine without all the cutting personal quips.

HBS: I freestyle for fun, I don’t really battle. Most of the rappers I’m around are straight, so I rarely have the pleasure of being around a bunch of queer MC’s either.

MF: How did you come to the decision to make your first album free? Does this have to do with personal politics with regard to ownership or are you just trying to get your tracks out there?

HBS: You know I don’t think music can really belong to anyone, especially nowadays when everything is streaming for free somewhere. At the same time I would hope people will pay for music to help support independent artists. I will have to charge for my full length when it comes out.

I don’t have a release date yet but my album is called “… and other bodily weapons”

MF: Who produces your music? It’s beautiful! Are you working with the same producer on your second album?

HBS: I’ve worked with a number of people, the beat to my song Love Who was made by myself and a guy named Weekly. He played guitar and bass over the Nico sample then I noodled with it until it sounded right. Recently I’ve been doing some stuff with an artist named Entropist Monk. But a producer named See More Perspective is doing all the production on “… and other bodily weapons” . See More Perspective is also one of my favorite rappers. He’s a straight MC, but he’s a great ally and he makes positive hip hop that basically rocks my face-off. Everyone should check him out!

MF: Can you tell us about “Mouth Breathe Ad Nauseum”, the lovely little digital mixtape you have up online?

HBS: Mouth Breathe Ad Nauseum is my ongoing online mixtape project. In hiphop, a mixtape is a promotional release that often futures collaborations, copy write infringements and other non-studio cuts. My mixtape tracks are always free. I have been slacking off on adding to it lately because I’ve been working on my album, but expect more free music soon!

MF: Do you have any tours planned in the future? Where can folks go see you?

HBS: I’m basically always have some shows planned around the midwest, and for right now I will go anywhere where I can break even. So holler at me and bring me to your city heidistink@gmail.com ! My show calendars can bee seen on heidistink.com & http://www.facebook.com/bartonstink

Heidi is an incredible and immensely talented musician and I look forward to watching her career evolve. Download her EP, The Familiar Pattern, here and her online digital mixtape, “Mouth Breathe Ad Nauseum” here.

Submission by Sylvia Renee, TNG staff writer.

On March 16^th I had the amazing pleasure of being part of a truly organic and spontaneous rally against a Republican fundraiser for Scott Walker. If you haven’t heard, we spilled out onto the streets and decided to march to the White House, and then to the US Chamber of Commerce. For a short period of time we occupied both the building housing the fundraiser and the USCC. Quite simply, this is an incredible time for progressives and those even further left, such as myself.

As others have noted, there are some problems. For starters, this isn’t just about Wisconsin anymore. This is about Michigan, about Ohio, about Pennsylvania. This is about all of us, and I do mean all of us. However, most of what we have seen seems to be mostly about working class white people. There is a general invisibility of anyone whom isn’t heterosexual or white. True, we need their support, but they need ours as well.

If we are going to be able to seize this opportunity to create a new and powerful movement, it is imperative that we learn that worker justice is women’s justice is LGBTQI justice is racial justice.

A new labor movement that does not recognize the importance of domestic labor leaves out the vast sectors of workers most in need of representation. Queer relationships, though often at least slightly more egalitarian, are not immune to having someone responsible for the cooking, cleaning, and other household maintenance.

This perspective also fails to address the feminization of poverty, or that queer people of color of either gender — though particularly for those who identify as women — are some of the most vulnerable people in the the entire country. They are also the likeliest to be poor and they are a part of this fight.

A queer rights movement that does not recognizes the importance of laws protecting women’s bodily integrity against the regressive redefinitions of rape, access to family planning, and others that seek to limit autonomy risks having our own bodily autonomy denied. At the same time, this also neglects the huge and largely unavailable need for trans-positive reproductive health care.

A feminist movement that neglects the disparate social, political, and economic conditions that face people of color can only go so far before it runs into its own limits.

A queer movement that neglects immigration fails to see that the harder it is for transfolk to get documentation, the harder it is for immigrants. It also fails to account for the transnational families separated due to heteronormative immigration laws.

A labor movement that does not address the systemic inequalities that face anyone who isnt a heteronormative / heterosexual cisgender white upper middle class man neglects the vast majority of us who sorely need labor protections and a voice.

To take it a step further, the recent theatrics of Representative King’s (R-NY) hearings on Muslim radicalization are motivated by exactly this same type of hatred of anything that varies from the norms prescribed by the existing political economic structures which favor the rights of corporations over the rights of people.

To quote Leslie Feinberg: “Fighting all forms of oppression defends lives. And it also helps build unity in the struggle by revealing to the entire working class the social and economic inequalities that are built into the capitalist system.”

To be sure, I am not saying that we are all oppressed the same, or even that some oppressions are more worth while than others. In fact I have zero tolerance for the Olympics of Oppression. My concern is that as this progressive movement continues to build, it will only reproduce the existing systemic inequalities that have led us to this point in history in the first place.

I am not so foolish as to think that this can happen overnight. While you are in the streets against the common enemy, talk to your comrades. Talk to them about how our struggles are related and what each can do to fight on other fronts. Build connections. Build solidarity.

We are all work(er)s in progress.

These protests are an incredible moment in our history. Let’s make sure we take every chance we can to make something that will be unlike anything the world has ever seen!

Transgender Baltimorean Tyra Trent

Last month, 25-year old Tyra Trent was found murdered in a Baltimore basement. She had been reported missing two weeks earlier by her family, and it took two days to identify her body and notify family.

When I read the news via email, I felt stunned and sick.  I don’t know why. I had never met her  and I am not one of those people who gets shocked by death and violence. For some reason, this particular case just struck me. Maybe it was the fact that we’re both in our 20’s, people of colour, transgender, living in the Baltimore area, and trying to get our lives on track. (She was getting her GED after a struggle with drugs, I’m trying to get my undergrad after/amidst struggles with mental health.)

Part of my shock may also have been the timing. When I learned of the news, it was Friday. I had just come out to two professors and one of my classes as trans.  Much to my relief, everyone was really accepting and supportive. Then again, I would not have even considered coming out if the school didn’t have such a generally progressive, “live and let live” atmosphere. I guess hearing about Tyra’s murder reminded me that just outside of the walls of my college, there are still people that hate us enough to want kill us.

It is a really heavy thing to think about: The idea that there are people who, based on one facet of who you are, something you have spent a long time struggling with yourself, want to extinguish your life or cause you injury, like what happened at Cal State Long Beach to a trans student in a restroom.

Then there is also the thought that the murderer might never be caught, and that there are people out there who probably agree with what he or she did — seriously, never read the comments on a news story.  It was about a year and a half ago that the DC Q St. stabbings of two trans women happened in broad daylight. Unsurprisingly, no one has been charged in that case.

Maybe the Tyra Trent case will be different, but the track record with finding and prosecuting those who murder trans people is bleak, to say the least.

Maryland is currently in debate over a gender identity anti-discrimination bill, but  I am not sure that I have high hopes for it considering it is just off the heels of the failed equal marriage bill, which the Maryland conservatives are still riled up about. With this murder, I am not sure that Maryland is willing to accept us. I sincerely hope that I am wrong.

Katie Liederman has written for Nerve, GO, Curve, Rap-Up, Velvetpark, Penthouse Forum, V, V Man, Lumina, The Archive, and was a resident blogger on Showtime’s Ourchart.com. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in English from Cornell University and an M.F.A. in Nonfiction Writing from Sarah Lawrence College.

*****

c. Calogero Sanfilippo

As we all know, it’s much cooler to have a boyfriend with a vagina than it is to have one with a penis. Perhaps this is why, as an out lesbian with no interest in labeling herself queer for fear of seeming too earnest, available, and/or political, and who instead opted to entrench herself in anything even remotely lesbian-themed, affiliated, oriented, ect. for close to a decade, it felt confusing when I started seriously dating a trans guy for the first time. He also wasn’t just any trans guy– I’m talking about someone who’s very public and active in the trans community as a performer and educator; a guy who one of my older, dorkier friends referred to as “king trans” when I revealed his name. Way to go in with a bang, I thought, as I tried to adjust to getting read as straight in the greater world. No longer was I half of the lesbian couple getting stared at on the street by people pretending they didn’t notice two women, hand-in-hand, meandering their way.

There were the obvious reactions– lesbian separatist friends who said things like, “Uh-oh. You’re 30. He’s gonna be the gateway drug back to non-trans men;” straight male friends who said things like, “Why don’t you just date a real guy?”; butch exes who said things like, “Whatever, I always knew you were straight,” and a hyper-straight sister who queried simply, “If he has no dick, what’s the point?” The list went on. Each and every one of these reactions was totally annoying and disheartening.

What’s even more annoying was my relentless need to out him to any non-hetero person I crossed paths with. “This is my new boyfriend,” I’d say, even to acquaintances I didn’t give a shit about. “He’s trans.” It took me a year to really understand how profoundly disrespectful, weird, and selfish this habit was. What was the intended subtext? I’m still a minority. I’m still “other.” My queer– yes, suddenly queer– identity could serve as evidence of my complexity, of hardship endured, of living against the grain, convincing myself and others that exploiting or advertising said otherness ensured a level of mystique and allure about me that in no way correlated to anything real or founded. People are mysterious and alluring not because of who they do or don’t sleep with and what body parts those people may or may not possess, but because of what they have to say, how nonchalant they appear whilst slouching against a bar wall texting, or how good their hair looks when messy.

This isn’t to say that queerness CAN’T be interesting. I’m just continually underwhelmed by how certain members in our community who operate under the assumption that their queerness alone renders them someone worth knowing– especially the femme contingent, who pretend that passing in the greater world is more of a burden than a privilege: no one sees the real me! Well, maybe. But unlike certain folks, you can also hail a cab and get any fancy corporate job you so desire, so there’s a give and take.

For fear of sounding cynical, this woe-is-me, I’m femme ailment is nothing that a haircut, less makeup and a pair of looser-fitting pants won’t fix, at least in part. Gender identity, after all, is about more than clothing or aesthetics– it’s also about energy, social cues, and the way you carry yourself in the world. Undoubtedly, in our hypercritical, combative community, where our myriad sub-divisions constantly pit themselves against each other, it’s always good to work to unify. However, the unification of queer sub-genres can seem near impossible at times. The butch-femme crowd that comprises most of my good friends is quietly anti-trans, and some other friends of mine in the trans community are quietly (or not-so-quietly) anti-lesbian (butch-femme specifically), scoffing at how inherently backwards and narrow-minded people are who identify as such– which begs the question, can’t lesbians claim ANYTHING that doesn’t allow space for male culture or expression— which, in turn, suggests that lesbian-identified persons and communities are indisputably bigoted because they don’t allow for community members whose gender identities are fluid or changing.

Ironically, such is the case with many butch-identified women who vacillate between swaggering around in soft packs, championing the integrity inherent in resolute butchness, and being visibly entrenched in envy and self-consciousness as they watch a newly-transitioned, rarely m’aam-ed friend shed their baby fat, bench-press more weight at the gym, or slip on a t-shirt sans bra, binder or tits, ready to go. That’s when the heaviness inherent in a butch identity seems to really get to them.

This is in no way meant to undermine the challenges of a trans male identity, or the way their identity can affect other people in their community. Trans men can be condescending towards butch women, and imply that their transition is somehow a manifestation of bravery, as if butches are simply too timid or fearful to take the surgical or hormonal leap. They’re also prone to jealousy, I’ve found, of the fact that their femme girlfriends sometimes miss having tits to grab besides the ones attached to their own bodies.

All that aside: these two genders– butch and trans, that is– remain two entirely different entities, ones difficult for their femme partner to navigate with any fluidity, particularly without resentment. A femme will forgive misogyny more readily with a butch, because, after all, she’s a girl too! A femme will forgive narcissism more readily with a trans guy, because, after all, he’s going through puberty, and should be allowed to revel in his new body! What is and isn’t permissible in the realm of being the less discriminated-against half of a queer or lesbian couple? I have no idea. What I do know is that people seem to skate around these issues and pretend they’re not there.

There is unspoken discomfort poking in from both ends—femmes’ closeted sadness surrounding the uncertainty of it all—our own (Is it okay for our own difficulties to be undercut by people who, unlike ourselves, are regularly gay or trans-bashed—those forced to avoid public restrooms at all costs?), and others’ (Are we really gay?). Blatant or underhanded disrespect can be woven into the thread of our most intimate romantic relationships, and sometimes it feels totally justified— we just need to learn to take it like a man. Like kids in a schoolyard, those bullied go and bully in other contexts, ones in which they wear the figurative pants. Reaping the undeniable benefits of passing, we feel bad standing up for ourselves. So we support some of the deadbeat butches or the self-obsessed trans men we grow to love—financially and otherwise, and spend more time working as trans male activists (somehow the relentlessly challenging plight of trans women is neglected in the mix) than we do living as feminists. The two can co-exist, it’s just hard finding the balance. And in the midst of all this, there’s the constant, nagging awareness that trans men and butch women have a hard time seeing eye to eye, and these are two contingents that we femmes know and love so fiercely.

Last Pride, I was in at the Lexington in SF with my trans boyfriend after the dyke march. We had just started making out when I heard someone shout over my shoulder, “UGH. THAT’S DISGUSTING. THERE ARE TONS OF STRAIGHT BARS IN THIS CITY FOR A REASON.”

I looked up, and the person who’d just bellowed this questionably astute statement was staring straight at us. At this point, my boyfriend took it upon himself to out himself. “I’m trans,” he said, in an attempt, it seemed, to justify our public display of affection in a mostly-lesbian space.

“What’s your point?” the old-school bull-dagger asked, accidentally touching on something way more provocative and rhetorical than she even intended.

Submission by Sylvia Renee, TNG staff writer

Much of 2011 thus far has been filled with a series of “What the fuck are you doing?!” moments. The war of women. The war on workers and people who work for a living. And that is just what I can think about in three seconds.

Lest you think that these should be enough to stroke the frothing right wing, the Montana state legislature is considering a bill that would ban any and all protections for LGBT people. As if that were not enough, it would also retroactively revoke any meager protections that may have been won at the municipal or state level.

It should surprise no one that the bill is sponsored by a Tea Party legislator.

From the Transgender Legal Defense and Education Fund:

“HB 516 would make it impossible for transgender, lesbian, gay and bisexual Montanans to seek protection from discrimination in the cities and towns where they live. It is motivated solely by bias towards transgender, lesbian, gay and bisexual people, which is a constitutionally impermissible basis for legislation. It would deprive transgender, lesbian, gay and bisexual people of their right to participate in the political process and seek help from their local governments. It would turn transgender, lesbian, gay and bisexual Montanans into strangers to a broad swath of Montana’s government and would violate constitutional guarantees of equal protection under established United States Supreme Court precedent.”

While some of you may think that though heinous, anything that happens in Montana doesnt really affect the day-to-day lives for most people, this is a serious issue. It is often said that the state’s are the laboratories of democracy in the US, though whether or not that is true is another matter all together. Still, what we are seeing in the contemporary political landscape is more of some horrid mad scientist intent on fundamentally changing the status quo toward a regressive and draconian social order.

This is an important issue because the states, and the conservative funders, all talk to each other. This means that they may choose to replicate the law in their own state. If you think arguing for the right to marry is a tough fight, just wait until queers across the country are arguing that the state shouldn’t make it possible to outright ban any kind of protections.

The Rabid Right has decided that 2011 is going to be their endgame where they push for every flawed idea that might wander into their constituency. We cannot let it happen.

Feel free to contact Representative Kris Hansen, the bill’s sponsor, at krishansen33@gmail.com or call her at (406)265-4754.

Andrea is a transwoman working in the legal profession.  She has a tremendous love of cooking, oceans, forests, and her cat.  She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her partner, of whom she is quite fond.

The process of coming out is frequently one of the most significant events in the life of a queer person. It is a cornerstone, a turning point, and it is always very personal.

As it specifically relates to at least some transpeople, the motivations for and the experience of this process are potentially quite different from the scenario most familiar to society at large. The experience of a gay/lesbian/bisexual woman or man telling friends and family, bringing home their first girlfriend/boyfriend, and more or less (hopefully) beginning the process of living their lives openly, as who they are (at least in the ideal situation) is different for transfolk.

Firstly, I must acknowledge my bias. I am a transwoman living in “stealth” (meaning that I attempt to keep my trans status and the fact of my transition a closely-guarded secret). I feel that it is important to acknowledge, however, that transpeople exist within a broad continuum. That includes intersexed people who do not identify as either male or female, all the way up through transsexuals who aim to completely change the gender into which they were born and to live in stealth, and everything in between. I refuse to acknowledge any of these variations as being more or less valid or “better,” and wherever you fall within this continuum, I promise you that there are others out there who are like you, and who feel and identify in the same way that you do. That being said, I am writing mostly from the perspective of the latter, and from the perspective of myself, as my experience is the only one I pretend to have any kind of intimate understanding of.

Let me begin by telling you a little story.  Perhaps one of the most difficult processes in my transition (and there were many), was sitting down to tell my family and my friends.  This circle my partner and I are lucky enough to have is distributed around the country. I discovered early on that I needed to tell each and every single person that I do not wish for people who did not know me previously, or who do not already know about my transition, to know that I am trans.

This became known as “the conversation” between my partner and I. It was frequently met with gentle, lovingly given advise (and a certain amount of non-understanding), that I should not be afraid to make my status known, and that I should be proud of and embrace who I am.  I have to give them all serious kudos for.  This reaction initially took me by surprise since it did not mesh at all with my expectations as to how I would live my life or of how I wished to face the world.

It seemed obvious to me that of course people would recognize that, yes, you are a woman now and would certainly not want to be seen as anything but.  The suggestion that I do anything other than not tell people was really an option that I had not even considered.  It is my fear that if my status were widely known I would very likely be seen as “a woman, …but we really know the truth,” if I was viewed as being female at all. I do not wish to be put into the position (potentially continually) of needing to defend the validity of something as basic to my identity as my gender.  There is also the issue of my personal safety.  Frankly though, even if I knew that I could let the world in with no repercussions, and without any risk of bias or question, I still would not opt to make my trans status known.  I simply don’t think it’s relevant that I was not always physically female.  This, of course, is a personal choice, and certainly isn’t the choice, or unfortunately even the option, of every trans person.

I believe that the root of the misunderstanding lies in the common conflation of trans with gayness. Transsexuals are frequently lumped in with gay men and women under wider the LGBT banner.  This broad acceptance within the wider queer community is certainly a wonderful thing that I am certainly grateful for. There are, however, fundamental differences which distinguish the trans condition from gayness. The first point, that gayness fundamentally speaks to a person’s sexual orientation, while being trans relates ideas about one’s own identity and gender, is perhaps somewhat obvious.  I have, for example, the same sexual preferences now, after transition, that I had before I transitioned.  My outward gender on the other hand, has radically changed.

Other differences are more subtle. As my partner (who is not trans) has pointed out to me, even the worst critic will acknowledge that a gay woman or man is, in fact, gay.  They might question the origins of gayness, they might call it a choice, and they might utter all sorts of homophobic slurs, but they are nonetheless very unlikely to question that yes, this person is gay.  The worst critic of a trans person, on the other hand, is very likely to question a trans person’s identity.  While perhaps they would be unlikely to question whether that person is trans, they would very likely tell a trans person that, no, you are not a woman/man, you were born a man/woman, and that is what you will always be.  It is this deeper questioning that is so problematic, and so hurtful for so many trans people.

In the end, I find myself being torn between recognizing the importance of visibility, and the need to do what I feel is in my best interests.  Certainly, the visibility of trans people in business, in academia, in leadership positions, and just in everyday life will do wonderful things for the acceptance of trans people.

There have been exciting recent examples, such as the appointment of Amanda Simpson to the position of Senior Technical Advisor at the U.S. Commerce Department, the election of Victoria Kolakowski to the bench of the California Superior Court, and the work of well-known individuals such as Donna Rose, Calpernia Addams, and Amanda James.  I am immensely grateful for the work of these individuals, and for the mere fact that they exist, occupying the positions that they do.

As for me, I am gratefully (if not very gainfully) employed in a job that I love, the recent recipient of a graduate degree, and I am making my way back out into the wider world, this time as the person I have always wanted to be.  But like I said, I feel torn, and I do at times wish that I had the courage to enter that world as a visible representative of a cause that I am passionate about.  Even now, as I sit here writing under a pseudonym, I wish that I wasn’t – I fought hard for my identity, and using a pseudonym feels at least a little like a betrayal.  Maybe someday I will do that, when where I will be and what I will be doing is not so much up in the air.

Our America with Lisa Ling airs on the OWN TV network Tuesdays at 10/9c. Last week’s episode entitled “Transgender Lives,” introduced the viewing audience to five individuals with Gender Dysphoria and provided a brief window into their lives.

I didn’t want to watch it.  My roommate made me.  She wanted to connect, I think, to share something with me which she thought would appeal to me.  She’s incredibly open-minded and LGBT friendly, but hasn’t had any experiences with Trans Folks before me.  Over the course of two conversations I tried to explain to her that I avoid these shows in general, I’ve seen too many and they don’t appeal to me. I usually end up angry or frustrated with how Trans-people are depicted, and I feel like they rarely offer anything new.

“But,” she said “it’s Oprah.”

How could I argue with that?

She was hurt too, that I’d shot down her attempt to reach out or understand more fully.  I promised her I’d catch it in re-run and as an assurance of my intentions, I watched the web-exclusives. On Sunday they replayed the show, so I was able to watch it then.

In the name of full-disclosure, I should mention that the phrase ‘born in the wrong body,’ sometimes makes me cringe. For one thing, I’ve never connected with the phrase. I feel like, as far as my experiences go with gender and personal feelings it’s inadequate as a descriptor, it fails to capture for me the immense grey areas in how I view and have viewed my body. Nonetheless, I know for many people it’s exactly right, so I who am I to say something about it?  Still, its overuse wears on me, and it’s ubiquitous in these shows, used as short hand to capture a whole range of gender dissonance. Like all clichés I’m sure it started as a powerful phrase that evoked emotional response and clear imagery. Now, it often seems watered-down.  I worry it’s being used in place of actual understanding, glossing over all the different ways of being in favor of an umbrella term which seems to offer clarification.  This special was no different in that regard, it relied heavily on the statement right off the bat.

In general, I would describe Our America’s Trans episode, on a whole, in similar terms.  It spent a good deal of time with 5 individuals and managed to say nothing all that different from any of the other shows that have highlighted the lives of Transgendered people.

Certainly the show did some things well. Ms. Ling seemed compassionate and honestly interested in what her interviewees had to say. There were no sly looks at the camera, and she never said one thing in the interview and overdubbed a more judgmental exposition. Still, the portrayals seem wholly one-dimensional, and I couldn’t help but notice the places where it could have been good, the places where the individuals could have been shown as just that, individuals, people.  The show got very close several times highlighting some of the aspects of each person briefly, but backing away before we ever get to see them as much else but their gender struggles.

Despite these failings, it occurs to me that maybe any sympathetic press is good press for a community so often misunderstood, marginalized or ignored. There’s plenty of good information out there. If someone’s curious after watching, they can find diverse voices that truly embrace all that the Trans community is in books and articles on online magazines.

Still, I can’t get past the idea that this is the only exposure many people will get to gender identity and its complexities. Furthermore, maybe any good done is really overshadowed by the disservice of being portrayed in such a one dimensional and sensationalized light.

The similarity between this show and that which came before can only help to foster stereotypes. If only one aspect of the Trans community is shown consistently it creates the impression that’s all there is. Never mind the individuals

who don’t fit the mold shown, the young Transwomen who are just starting their adulthood and have already transitioned or are transitioning at the same time, The middle aged Transmen who have lived quiet lives or the people who are dealing with their gender issues but refusing to be defined by them. What about people who refuse to fit either gender? Genderqueer individuals who won’t allow themselves to be placed in any box. There are as many ways of being Trans as there are people who identify that way. By showing only a very small sliver of the spectrum consistently, one detracts from the legitimization of the rest.

Even worse, it can discourage young people who might be having a hard time with their gender identity. If the perception is that there is only one way to be Trans, then it suggests to the kids who don’t fit that mold that their experience is somehow inferior. It also helps perpetuate the phenomenon of lying to secure services. If people believe that there is a ‘true’ transsexual, then they’ll continue to conceal differences and deviations from the standard to ensure they’re allowed to transition.

Moreover, the sensationalism of these types of shows does nothing but set us apart further from society as a whole. I appreciate that Our America explains how difficult Gender Dysphoria and Transitioning are; however, focusing only on that difficulty and how it distances us from ‘normal,’ makes us seem worthy of sympathy or pity, but rarely admiration or fraternity. The stories told in this way tend to highlight only the negative, and rarely the person who transitions and gets on with his or her own life without letting it be their sole defining trait. In this way, shows like this make us less like someone who’s overcome a difficulty and more like someone who is permanently disabled, never to be rehabilitated. It puts up barriers to our integration, and it prevents us from being viewed as just people.

I can’t deny that shows such as these serve a definitive purpose. By simplifying the experience of trans-people you make it accessible to a wider audience. By showing the most extreme cases you convey the seriousness of the issues Trans-people face. The issue becomes then the consistency and uniformity of what is shown, the failure of larger media outlets to show the diversity of our community. Like the expression trapped in the wrong body for me, shows like these expose only a portion of our experiences. The absence of variation denies our individuality and weakens our community.

“Look out honey, ’cause I’m using technology
Ain’t got time to make no apology
Soul radiation in the dead of night
Love in the middle of a fire fight”

–“Search and Destroy” by the Stooges

In many ways, the cis gay & lesbian community and the trans community aren’t the best of friends. There are plenty of transphobic gays and lesbians, and the trans community hasn’t always embraced their non-heterosexual members.

I’m trans AND I’m queer. By “queer,” I mean the actual “I like sexual/romantic stuff with other guys who like guys.” There is an annoyingly present population of the trans male community who call themselves “queer,” but in actuality only are attracted to and have sex with women (sorry, chaps, but unless you’re into doing the horizontal tango with a member of the same gender, it really isn’t right to appropriate words like “queer” and “faggot” for yourselves).

Anyway, the point is that my situation is not exceptional. There are many of us who are caught between or identify with both the trans and GLBQ communities.  My fellow TNG writer, Sylvia Renee, has mentioned that she is both trans and not heterosexual. I can name others both close to me and not who are in same boat.  Not only that, but there are also cisgender GLBQ people who are in queer relationships with some of us (not to forget relationships between queer trans people).  Many of these partners are actually more involved in the trans community than I am (to be perfectly honest, because I am rather uninvolved). So not only are we feeling the pull of the divide, but our lovers may be as well.

By even suggesting that you remove the T from the GLB, you are asking some of us to pick between two facets of our identity.  In addition to that, making us have to fight an uphill battle on both sides as we fight for our rights not only as trans people, but also as queers…Separately.  Personally, that makes me feel really fucking invalidated.

Also in regards to the “gender studies students” comment made, just talk to us as human beings (rather than subjects) and as friends. You’ll learn a hell of a lot about us. It is really just as simple as that. I’m not a gender studies student either. I’m an Anthropology and Political Science student who has yet to take (nor even any desire to take) a class about gender theory. We’re not asking for “ideal.” we’re just asking for some attempt at educating yourselves.

You don’t have to be an expert to be an ally.

“If you have come to help me you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” – A collective effort of Aboriginal Australian Activists

It would seem that there needs to be a debate about where trans people should be included in the string of acronyms. Interestingly, no one has asked my opinion on the matter – though generally the subject is not one that I am inclined to take up.

Still such is life.

For those of you who haven’t been following, it began with Josh Becker asking if trans people were being best served by the current alliance. Then Michael, our webmaster and someone whose opinion I generally respect, felt that the commentators had potentially misrepresented the intent of Mr Becker’s article. I will be the first to admit that I was one of the more hostile comments, for which I will not apologize. I don’t usually take to kindly to having my presence questioned, but in the name of a presumably fair debate I am willing to assume good-faith on the part of both Josh and Michael.

• Argument #1 – We would do better representing ourselves more independently. “But trans people deserve their own spotlight, instead of being stuck in the shadows of their gay peers’ achievements.”

First, as others have pointed out this assumes that trans activism does not already exist on its own. This is patently untrue. There are already numerous individuals, organizations, and movements working very specifically to improve our social condition.

Second, this position also neglects that trans people have spent literally decades fighting to be included. Despite that fact that we were some of the first on the line at the stone wall riots (Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Brown are widely credited as being one of the first to start fighting back) it was not until another generation that trans people were even given a place at the table. Before that we were pretty much ignored completely from all sides.

But the broader question remains vis-a-vis where the spot light shines. Ideals like equality, justice, recognition, liberation, revolution or any other teleological goal are not a matter of zero-sum nor a winner-take-all. Socially, as we all work in our own way toward these ends, we all usually gain something through the successful struggle of others. I may be slightly narcissistic, but at the end of the day I frankly do not care whose in the spot light as long as I am there at the finish line with you.

• Argument #2 – “[D]oesn’t it hinder the trans community to often be the also-ran of gay rights advancements ”

No, it really doesn’t. As Josh rightfully points out gay (and I would go even further to describe a particular section that sits a more privileged position with relation to race, class, and presentation) rights do not automatically equal trans rights in the first place.

However, in those wonderful cases where activists and legislators are able to get the right bill passed the first time there is precious little distinction between trans rights and gay rights on things like the right to work free from discrimination, the right to have your identity validated, the right to not be kicked out of your home, or even the right to be with the person(s) you love.

Movements build off of each other all the time, and while they may have separate goals the sum of our collective actions are often bigger than the collection of its parts. For example, immigrant rights and worker rights have a long and valuable history of working with each other (led by people like Caesar Chavez). The same could be said for women’s rights and racial civil rights. The point is that while there may be some contradictions, generally all of us are much stronger than some of us.

• Argument #3 – “[W]hen we promote the idea of an “LGBT” community, we are consciously and erroneously equating gender and sexuality struggles.”

Yes. And at the same time, no. While I may be trans, I am also among other things, in a lesbian relationship. Should my partner be granted any assortment of rights while I am left to fight for my own?

Beyond personal concerns, while the two are most certainly separate, the ways in which we perform our gender and enact our sexuality are intimately intertwined. For a concrete example, employment non-discrimination laws that are inclusive of gender identity reach far beyond just trans people. They protect everyone regardless of their sexual affiliation – butch lesbians, flamboyant twinks, and even heterosexual people who just don’t quite measure up to the archetypal gender standards salient to wherever they may be.

Regardless, we are the same, at least as far as the dreaded Middle Americans are concerned, because we are all breaking the rules about what it means to be a woman or a man.

• Argument #4 – “The simple fact is that lots of cis-gendered homos don’t identify with trans issues, don’t understand them, and are sick of being denied their rights and refuse to let anything get in their [way] as we move closer and closer.”

Oh, I am sorry about that. Go ahead and get yours, I will be here when you come back for us.

But let’s just imagine a world where this happens, where gay men and lesbian women (of certain types) gain every single civil right that they could possibly hope for. What happens next? For starters, trans people will have to start completely over from scratch – all of the work our activists put towards getting the other members of the identity acronym will have come to an end, and it wont benefit them at all.

How long are we, your “brothers and sisters,” supposed to wait? More importantly how many lesbian and gay activists will pick that flag back up once they have their rights secured? Some will, but those who already don’t care will be hard pressed to all of a sudden start caring. How many ethereal “Middle Americans” will think that the issue has already been settled, or worse that some other group wants “special rights?”

History has shown us time and time again that it is much easier to get legislation right the first time than it is to re-mount an entire campaign around an addition. Throwing the same people under the bus every time is not a compromise, its a codified tactic.

• Argument #5 – Trans Issues are different issues.

If I may offer a brief anecdote. I am getting my Master’s in Gender Studies & Public Policy. Gender studies even played a significant part in my undergraduate degree. You know how many times trans issues were included by an author who was neither trans nor writing a special section on the topic? That is to say, that I was recognized as existing in this world independent of special attention? Once. In six years of radical theory.

Yes, sometimes our concerns diverge. And you know what, we as trans rights activists are generally pretty good at handling those (with solidarity from our allies of course). I wont even bother to evoke the bourgeois lie of “we are just like you, mostly.” But, there is a difference between being different and being completely distinct from some set of human experiences.

I am not asking for every other cis person in the acronym allegiance to stand next to me at the next protest for any of the myriad of “trans issues.” I am asking to live in a world where trans people are acknowledged as even existing and having potentially valuable contributions.

***

My arguments have already gone on for far too long already so I will ask a simple question. Who is best served by removing the T?

I sincerely doubt that the answer to that question would be trans people. The simple fact is that we are a minority of a minority, some of us are queer and some of us identify as as completely heterosexual. Some of us are only concerned with passing while others want to be a part of something new and different. The simple fact is (in my mind at least) that there are simply not enough trans people in this country to be able to push for the same kind movement for recognition that we have currently even as tenuous members of the broader LGB coalition.

While the individual reasons may vary, nearly every trans person I have ever spoken with wants to be included in the coalition of identities.

So at the risk of stepping on (even more) toes, why are cis-gay men asking whether or not the interests of trans people are being best served by the current arrangement? Is it for my benefit, or is it really for yours?

Photo by Melissa Rogers

At 7:30 on Friday evening, I stand before the large mirror in my dining/living room and critique my appearance. I have not been this critical or nervous since the first couple of times I went “out.” I note the places where the hormones have rounded my face, but I pay special attention to the spots which have not yet improved. I check and double-check my outfit. I debate padding my chest. I feel on display, like a used car in a showroom. I hope the imperfections will go unnoticed.

Tonight I meet old friends for drinks in honor of a birthday. These are the people I went to college with, and in some cases, high school. These are the people I first came out to. They heard my confessions, but I moved at the end of the summer. So, they have only heard them; they have not seen them in practice. They haven’t met the real me.

I am extra careful with the eyeliner tonight, as though the absence of a smudge will indicate how well I’m doing, how adjusted I’ve become. If there was anyone more invested in the persona I had once crafted than pre-acceptance me, these are the people. They liked the person I was. They knew him well, or thought they did, and enjoyed his company. I worry they will not like me.

I want to send out a press release before I arrive. I want to tell them that this person that they’re meeting, in a way for the first time, is really the same, only fuller. That while they might have loved the person I was before, they will love the person I am now because really they cannot be divided. Still, the world is not always so rational, so easy to navigate. I worry they will reject this person with the vaguely familiar mannerisms and patterns of speech. I worry they will decide it’s not enough, that what they really want is the person they knew before and not this new incarnation, no matter how much more complete she is.

To their eternal credit, none of these concerns come to fruition. They are wonderful and happy to see me. It has been many months. If there is awkwardness or uncertainty it floats away as catching up takes precedent. I am reminding why I loved these people in the first place.

A few rounds, one or two bummed cigarettes, and a handful of gentle pronoun reminders later and I am super-trans. I answer questions about my sex-life and sexuality with grace and good humor. Many in similar positions have expressed frustration or disgust with this line of questioning, and I fully understand why. In many cases, difference is construed to mean that taboo subjects are suddenly acceptable, and people become insensitive and often cruel. Many times I have been subjected by near strangers to questions so probing a therapist would think twice about asking. Often this reveals a lot more about the asker, as hidden prejudices and firmly entrenched stereotypes are brought to light. I am sometimes aghast at what people seem to believe about trans-people.

None of these instances is the case tonight. If these friends of mine are guilty of anything it is only curiosity and it is tempered by honest desire for understanding. In these moments, I prove to them that I am the same person because I have not shied away from questions I would have answered before. I have not put up new walls, so they do not have to. Bridges that I worried I had burned through absenteeism turned out to be much less flammable than expected.

I dipped out early, ostensibly because I needed to drive home, but it was just as much about the shadow creeping across my upper lip. Driving home, I feel a little guilty for assuming the worst about people, for being so nervous to go out. Certainly ours is a world full of ignorance. Trust me, this night has not been without reminders. Still, sometimes you get the best of people, and I can’t but count the evening as a win. For most of the people I know, this is completely uncharted territory. They have overcome myriad different upbringings and preconceived notions to accept me as best they can. If my expectations were not met, then it is offset by knowing that they have come just as far, if not further than I have, to meet me. So, this night, I accept the handful of knowing looks or moments of disapproval. I know not every night will work out so well, I have teary-eyed evenings on the Metro to prove it.  I’ll take this one in all its imperfection.

Photo by Theodoranian

I was happy to see a recent TNG post from a guest contributor entitled Dropping The ‘T’ To Save It.  The post did its best to be completely supportive of the trans community while at the same time asking serious and hard questions, such as: Are trans people best served by being allied with the gay and lesbian community in their joint struggle for rights?  I’m not going to summarize the post, since every word was well chosen and I’d only do it injustice.  Instead, I am going to react to some of the comments it received.

First, I think it’s very important for this conversation to happen.  The simple fact is that lots of cis-gendered homos don’t identify with trans issues, don’t understand them, and are sick of being denied their rights and refuse to let anything get in their as we move closer and closer.  This is a fact.  Anyone who gets mad at the acknowledgment of this fact is shooting the messenger and ignoring the larger problem.

Secondly, it’s important to acknowledge that, in certain legal matters, trans issues are indeed different than gay/lesbian issues.  This, too, is a fact.

I think it is very healthy to question this alliance, as it could indeed be doing all sub-groups a disservice to be fighting a united front.  But it’s essential to understand that questioning the alliance does not equate to being against the alliance, and it doesn’t equate to being anti-trans.  I was saddened to see reactions that obviously equated questioning the “T” with being anti-T.  In situations like these where tempers run high, it’s essential to separate the logical/real from the emotional/ideal.  Let’s give it a shot:

Ideally, we can all march proudly together toward equality.  Realistically, we have to stop the infighting, name-calling and back-stabbing before we can really imagine marching in anything resembling lock-step.

Ideally, all queer people would embrace the T in LGBT.  Realistically, the L, the G and the B often don’t see eye to eye.  We can’t even get different groups of gay men to understand one another.  These different groups of gay men are often only united by their complete cluelessness about lesbians, resulting in behavior that is, at best, insensitive to women and, at worst, misogynistic.  Gay men and lesbians are constantly being called bi-phobic, as they often shun bisexuals or write them off with quips such as “bi now, gay later.”  My trans brother and sisters, the G and the L don’t get along all that well, and we’re all afraid the B is going to leave us for someone of the other gender. Are you sure you want to join up with us?

Ideally, the non-queer world of gender-conforming heterosexuals will see that we, all of us queers, are just people trying to live authentic lives and will grant us the rights we deserve.  Realistically, it may take a generation or more before a conservative, middle American, male, elected official is willing to support legislation that would allow a trans-woman to use the same bathroom as his wife.  Yes, it’s wrong and narrow minded, but that “fact” still holds a lot of traction and there’s likely little we can do about it outside of eliminating multi-user bathrooms.  (And being pee-shy, I’m all for that!)

Ideally, all queer people would do the necessary legwork to become the ideal allies for transfolk.  Realistically, not all queer people are gender studies students.  Some of us are engineers, architects, bartenders, construction workers, firemen/women, lawyers, doctors etc.

It’s not realistic for trans people to expect gender-conforming queers to read up on trans issues.  I often wonder how many anti-segregation white activists were well-versed in racial theory, versus those who simply knew something was wrong and felt passionate enough about speaking truth to power to jump on buses to Selma.  If the queer rights movement is dependent on all queer people being at least C-plus students of trans issues, we’re all doomed to fail.

There is a large component of the greater queer community that is committed to equal rights for all, including transgendered people.  It saddens me when the efforts of non-trans members of the queer community are criticized and attacked for asking questions that, in all fairness, beg to be asked… and answered.