Inspired By Caitlyn To Tell Their Stories

Equality will have been achieved when all trans (or gender non-conforming) people can enjoy the same right to live as the people they are, without fear of losing their jobs, housing, families, relationships or lives, as cisgender people have.  In other words, we'll all be equal when we don't have to be rich and famous to, not only transition, but to be seen as a role model for doing so.

Caitlyn Jenner understands this.  Yesterday I applauded her for mentioning Sam Taub, the Detroit-area transgender teenager who committed suicide.  Now, Ms. Jenner's example is encouraging some of us, who transitioned long before Ms. Jenner, to tell our stories.  And the New York Daily News featured a few of them today: 



 
Caitlyn Jenner said she couldn’t wait to hear the stories of her transgender sisters. Well, the Daily News is providing three gripping tales from men who transitioned long before it became a reality TV show.
Like the 65-year-old Olympic gold-medal champ, this trio has struggled with doubts, fears and tears — including ones shed from the joy of finally embracing a life that’s been in limbo, in some cases for decades.

Each personal journey is unique, but share common threads. The road to transitioning reaches back to childhood — as early as first grade. Experimenting with cross-dressing came long before these women’s brave decisions to live authentically.

Discussing their lives wasn’t an invitation for tell-all revelations about surgery, genitals or sexual mores. But in reading each story, you get intimate portraits of the people living them — and the challenges that face all transgender Americans.

James Keivom

Actress Shakina Nayfack

Transgender actress Shakina Nayfack tells of her incredible journey from being a young Jewish boy bullied by high school classmates to an outspoken theater veteran. "I’m a white trans woman playing the Statue of Liberty in a show about illegal immigration," she says. READ THE STORY.

Aaron Showalter

Willa France

Willa France was at the top of her career as a lawyer when she transitioned to being a woman in her 50s. The East Harlem resident talks to the News about her own transformation, keeping her marriage intact and a defense of Jenner's fashion sense. READ THE STORY.

Bryan R. Smith

Patricia Harrington

Patricia Harrington says her transformation into her "authentic person" has been a series of small victories since trying to stand on the girl's line as a six year old boy. "It took another 35 years or so to open up," she says. " I’ve come so far in my life." READ THE STORY

Photo by Emma

Veronica Vera 

Meet Veronica Vera, founder of the Finishing School for Boys Who Want to Be Girls, who has helped countless men transition into women from her center in Chelsea. The once-repressed Catholic girl came to New York in the 1970s to explore her own sexuality, which led to her becoming her adopted home town's bbt. READ THE STORY.

The Third Law In The Third World

In previous posts, I've said that something like a corollary of Newton's Third Law of Motion seems to operate in the realm of transgender acceptance and equality.

Briefly, Newton's Third Law says that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.  We see a parallel to it whenever some jurisdiction passes a law to protect us from discrimination or every time there's some favorable image of one of us in the media:  The bigots double down their ignorance, hatred  and violence against us.  

Backwater preachers and Neanderthal politicians (and others) come up with ever-more ridiculous ways of rationalizing their bigotry.  And, unfortunately, the level of violence against us is ramped up:  The beatings, stabbings and shootings become more frequent and gruesome. 

It also seems that as acceptance of us grows in secular Western societies--as seems to have happened in the wake of Bruce Jenner becoming Caitlyn--conservative societies become even more repressive and brutal.  Such is the case in Egypt where, according to at least one report, trans people (especially women) have been targeted.  During the past year, 150 trans women have been arrested in Cairo alone.

Now, while Egypt is a predominantly Muslim country, it's not Saudi Arabia or Pakistan. Still, the old ideas about gender and sexuality prevail:  It's very difficult to change one's name, let alone gender, on official documentation, and many Egyptians continue to see trans women as gay men who have rejected their masculinity.

One result of their difficulty in getting IDs that reflect their true identity is that trans people have a hard time getting jobs.  To be fair, it's difficult for anyone to get a job in Egypt right now, but being trans only exacerbates that problem.  So--you guessed it--many trans people turn to sex work in order to survive.  That further stigmatizes them, in both legal and social senses, as Egypt's laws (like the laws in most places) criminalize the sex worker rather than his or her client and sex workers are seen as people "nobody will miss" if they're killed or disappeared.

So, as I've said earlier, it's great that more people are accepting us as we are.  But that also means we must be careful, as those who don't accept us will become more adamant in their hatred.

Why Was Rachel Tudor Fired?

Discrimination cases aren't filed, let alone won, nearly as often as most people imagine.

Filing any sort of case takes a lot of time and money.  That stacks the deck against any individual bringing a case against an organization, especially a large one.  

Also, as any lawyer will tell you, such cases are difficult to prove.  There are rarely witnesses to acts of discrimination, and when the word of one individual is weighed against that of an organization, who do you think a judge is more likely to believe?  

Furthermore, almost nobody is stupid enough to say they've fired, or denied a job, promotion or tenure, to someone because of his or her race, gender, national origin or religion, even in those places where it's still legal to discriminate against, say, gays.  Instead, they find--or, in some cases, fabricate--another reason.  Or, if a qualified candidate "aces" an interview, the person or committee making the hiring decision will say the candidate was "not a good fit with the culture of this organization" or some such thing.

Southeastern Oklahoma State University has probably done what I've described in the previous paragraph, at least in the case of Rachel Tudor. In the summer of 2007, she announced that she was transitioning and would start presenting as female on her job, as an English professor, during the 2007-2008 academic year. She continued to work there until she was denied tenure, and terminated, in 2011.  According to her lawyer, it was the first time an SOSU English professor's application for tenure and promotion was denied after a favorable tenure recommendation from a promotion committee and department chair.  Moreover, according to the suit, she experienced retaliation after she had the temerity to complain.

Now, I know I don't have the full story, but there's good reason to suspect that she was wronged.  I really want to find out what SOSU's rationale was for firing her.  

Whatever it is, it--to be fair--probably isn't half as mean-spirited as some of the comments on the article I've linked.

Transgender Doctor Leaves Selma For Seattle

In some ways, I've been luckier than other trans people.  I lost relationships, but am making new friends.  And my parents have been supportive.

Folks like Jennifer Burnett don't have it so good. After announcing her intention to transition, she lost her house, spouse and job within less than 24 hours.  That, after putting off her transition for 19 years so that she could gain custody of the children she had by her first marriage.  She'd begun hormones and electrolysis when, she said, "God told" her to put her transition on hold for the sake of her children.  

Then, after her second child moved out, she met a woman who married her, knowing of her plans to transition.  But when she started, Wife #2 bailed on her.

Now she offers the kind of support she didn't have.  And, just as important, she provides something trans people to often have difficulty in finding, or never find at all:  medical care from a person who understands their needs and feelings.

That is especially powerful when you realize that she has lived and practiced in Selma, CA, a town near Fresno.  It's about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, in the San Joaquin Valley (often called "The Inland Valley".)  That trans people from both metropoli would take the trip to Selma says something about her.  And the fact that she's been practicing there surely offered hope to LGBT people who were living in the area which, according to a native of the Valley, "produces more raisins and queer-bashers than anyplace else."

I'm sure that acquaintance of mine was being at least somewhat hyperbolic. Still, you have to wonder what sorts of trials Dr. Burnett have experienced.

Could that be a reason why she's leaving?  She says she's moving to Seattle to be closer to her children, which I don't doubt.  Still, it's not hard to think that she'll be in a more welcoming atmosphere than she's in now.  It's a loss for the folks in the Valley (She is also a general practitioner.) but surely a gain for trans people in Seattle.

Moving Forward, Or Simply On

Back in the smoky mists of time, les neiges d'antan--well, all right, my youth--transsexuals were expected to break completely with the lives they lived before their gender transitions.  Doctors and therapists mandated new jobs and careers (or, if possible, no job or career) as well as places of habitation and friends as a condition of embarking upon the "real life test".  

Moreover, novitiate transgenders were told to re-invent their pasts. So, for example, if you were a Boy Scout, as I was, you might say you were a Girl Scout.  Of course, that meant you couldn't talk about experiences of your life that were specific to the gender in which you lived before your transition.  For many, that meant not mentioning being drafted into military service or giving birth. 

Thankfully, such expectations no longer existed when I started my transition.  As I explained to someone, I simply could not see how it was helpful to trade one mental disorder (as gender dysphoria was defined until recently) for another (i.e., willed amnesia).

As I begin this year, I know that I did not leave my past behind me.  However, I now realize that, piece by piece, my past has been leaving me.

Now, I don't expect (and hope I don't have) to abandon reading, writing, bicycling, my cats, my parents and Millie.  But much else, and many other people, are no longer in my life.  I realized this when I looked into my phone book (Yes, I still have one of those!) for the numbers of a couple of people I wanted to call with wishes for a happy new year.

A few people whose names and numbers are in that book are no longer in this world.  Others decided to end relationships they had with me, or simply drifted away. Or I drifted away from them.  I decided to call a couple of people with whom I haven't spoken in some time, mainly out of curiosity, only to find that their numbers were no longer in service.  Did they move?  Abandon their phone service?  Die?  Or take on new identities in new places?

I believe that during the past few months, some new friends and possible friends have come into my life.  They are lovely people and I am looking forward to sharing good and possibly difficult times with them.  Still, on New Year's Day, with the prospect of new relationships--and other things?--in my life for the coming year, it's hard not to think sometimes about who and what left me, and who and what I had to leave.  I suppose I always saw them as a part of my identity--which, ironically, may be the one thing I didn't give up.  I was Justine all along:  I did not abandon or re-invent that.  But those who broke with, or drifted away from, me could or would not understand that.  That is why I must move forward, even if it is further away from them.

Four Years In My New Life, Five For This Blog

Today this blog turns five years old.  And, on this date four years ago, I underwent my gender-reassignment surgery.

I could not have predicted what would result from either but, in hindsight, so much seems inevitable.  I have made and lost friends--also as a result of the gender transition that had been in progress for a few years when I started this blog.  

One thing I realize now is that I never lived more in--but not for--the present moment than I did when I underwent the surgery and during the weeks when I was recovering from it.  Really, there wasn't much else to think about.  Then again, what else can you think about when you're dilating and soaking three times a day?

Everything else I experienced couldn't be thought about; it could only be experienced.  Like looking at my vagina for the first time.  Or noticing the way my hair grew.  Or the ways in which people were treating me.

Up to the day I arrived in Trinidad, there were people who knew me from before my transition and continued the relationships they'd had with me.  Then there were those from my past who ended the relationships they had with me.  And then there were those who met me after I started my transition, learned of my history and decided that there was nothing wrong with it, or that they simply didn't care.

The people I met in Trinidad--I include Dr. Marci Bowers, who did my surgery; her then-partner Carol Cometto, who ran the Morning After House; the others who were there for surgery and the ones who accompanied them and the nurses and others who helped--all knew why I was there, and why they were there.  Being a trans person was a "given" for me, for the others who were having surgery and, of course, Marci herself.  We didn't have to reveal anything to each other; as Melanie sang in "Lay Down", we'd bled inside each others' wounds.

In brief, we seemed "normal" to each other.  We didn't have to explain ourselves or worry about the reactions we'd get.  There wasn't any anxiety about loss or insincerity; we might remain in touch after the surgery or we might not.  Whether or not we formed friendships over our shared experiences, there was no way we would lose them--or hear a lot of political correctness over how we have to accept people different from ourselves--as a result of our sometimes-paralell histories.

The day I got to Trinidad, I realized that someone who'd been a part of my life for several years had been talking to, and otherwise treating me, as if I were some sort of freak.  While he voiced support for my transition and having the surgery, he did things to undermine me along the way.  Deep down, I believe, he wanted me to remain a man--or, at least, not to have the surgery--so that I could "stick" him, as he put it.

Now, I don't want to generalize about all men who date pre-op trans women.  But I realize now that he was with me because--to be perfectly blunt--he didn't have the balls to love anyone for who he or she actually is.  Being with me allowed him to hide his gayness from people who didn't know about him, or about my history.  It also allowed him--in his mind, anyway--to feel superior to somebody.  Also, he knew that he could use me as his emotional punching bag because, he realized, that if I complained, a lot of people would assume that I was in the wrong, or would simply not care.

He says he was bullied on his way to and from school.  I saw him with his family; he and they bullied each other.  And, I realized, that is what he was doing to me.  Of course, his bullying would escalate after I returned from my surgery and ended our relationship.

At the time, I had a sort of premonition that our relationship wouldn't survive my surgery.  He never saw it as anything more than an alteration of parts of my body and couldn't understand why I wanted it because, well, he wanted the parts I had before the surgery.  But here's something I never told him because I never could:  The transition was, above all, a spiritual experience.  I  took hormones and had surgery to make it a bit easier to live in accord with my female spirit; I never had any illusions that it was going to make me into a bombshell or any of the other stereotypes of what women are supposed to be.  I knew that I was--as Vicki, a counselor at the Anti-Violence Project, put it--a self-made woman.  Actually, I think nearly all women are because there are so few who can teach us how to be anything but our culture's--or, simply, men's--notions of what women are supposed to be.  


The best things other women have done for me, in and since my transition and surgery, is to support me emotionally (as well as in other ways) and to welcome me into their spaces, into their lives.  I try to do the same; it's something I'm still learning, as I never had to understand in my previous life. Sometimes I get the feeling the man I'm talking about--Dominick--never will because he doesn't have to, and has had no one who can teach him.

Perhaps that is the way in which my transition and surgery changed my life.  Sometimes that change has been very complicated, but I wouldn't trade it for my previous life, or anyone else's.

A Surprise In One Of My Classes

In one of my classes, students have been reading various essays and articles about gender and sexuality.  I've assigned them a paper based on those readings.  

Last year, I had a self-imposed moratorium on such readings and assignments.  I wanted to teach things that had nothing to do with those topics.  I started this year with the same moratorium but I found that, ironically, my students led me back to them.  They wanted to express their thoughts about gender identity and sexuality. Some of those thoughts included were about the inseparability of gender and sexuality from many other topics, including some that I hadn't anticipated, such as science.

Anyway, in the class in question, one student whom I thought to be a cocky teenager, expressed the opinion that "everyone has rights."  At first I was skeptical; I thought he was saying what he thought I wanted to hear.  However, as I read on, I realized that he had been thinking a lot about the issues in the reading.  He said, in essence, that he'd be disappointed if he had a son who expressed interest in "changing" genders.  However, he said, he would support that son's right to do so if he made that choice as an adult.

But what came after that assertion was, perhaps, the most interesting and gratifying part of all.  He wrote about one of his school-mates, with whom he had been friends since both were five years old. This friend had a brother who was several years older, and whom my student saw almost as often as he saw the friend.  This friend's older brother, according to my student, was sullen and testy (Those were his exact words.) and had a few incidents with cops and authority figures.

However, my student noticed a change in him.  This friend's brother began to "mellow" out, and even volunteered his time.  My student, of course, had no idea of what brought about the change--that is, until one day, when he noticed other changes.  "His face looked different.  His body was starting to look different."  What my student was describing, of course, were the effects of taking hormones.  

This friend's sibling has since had gender reassignment surgery.  My student says he can't imagine such a thing for himself, and he hopes that any son he may have wouldn't want to do the same thing.  However, he says, "it just might be necessary.  And that is why I would support his right to do it."

I wonder if his buddies in the class--who seem like even cockier teenagers than I thought him to be--saw that paper.  Actually, I hope they did, and that he's talked about it with them.