Escalation

It was one thing to impugn my gender identity and to say that Dr. Marci Bowers had created a "Frankenstein" right after the surgery she performed on me.  Children who don't get their way are always calling people--including the adults who deny them what they want--names.  

But it's something else entirely to make false accusations against someone. It's something else again when those accusations include racism against someone who works as an educator and sexual crimes against a transgender person.

Such was the way in which Dominick's attacks against me escalated.  When I saw him, for the last time, in the court, he whined that he "never would have said those things" if he "knew that it would lead to this."

By "this", he meant being in that court--not the damage he did to me.  That was when I realized I'd been entirely too forgiving of, and merciful toward, him.

All he cared about was the ways in which the exposure of his deeds and words would inconvenience him.  When he begged for me to "forgive" him, he wasn't looking for absolution or making--implicitly or explicitly--a pact to make amends and be a better person than he'd been.  Oh, no.  All he wanted was to be "let off the hook" and, as he said, to have the opportunity to live his life. After all, he said, he's young and has "a lot of years ahead".

So what was he telling me?  That my life was over?  (Perhaps it is.) That his life is more important or valuable than mine? (Some would see it that way.) Or was he finally expressing, if not admitting, the disrespect--if not outright contempt--he always had for me?

Actually, I realized that he respects no one.  He has the sense of entitlement that, when I first started teaching, I saw only in very wealthy kids.  When he makes a mistake--no, when he hurts someone--he thinks it's the obligation of the people around him to cover up for him, and to help him "move on".

Now, in spite of everything I've experienced, I don't believe that most people are born wicked.  At the same time, most people have to be taught morality of some sort.  Whatever sense of right and wrong I have, I learned from my parents, grandparents, teachers and other adults in my life when I was growing up. It's also been refined by some experiences I've had.

Dominick spent even more time in Catholic school than I did.  And, I guess, there had to have been at least one or two people who inculcated him with some sense of moral judgment. Even if his circumstances were--in spite or because of all the time he spent in Catholic school--more dysfunctional than mine were, I still don't understand how he can say that making false accusations and othewise lying about me, or anyone, simply because he was angry is right.

Then again, he is an abuser, a predator.  I don't know what made him--or whether he was indeed born--that way.  All I know is that he would lie, manipulate and make any attempt to destroy the life of someone who was even more vulnerable to stereotypes and judgments than he is.

I know this:  Whatever he was born or made, he is a bully and a thug.  His "apologies" the last time I saw him were nothing more than attempts to save his own culo.

That, after his abuse tore away at something I always valued:  the notion that I could help someone become trustworthy by trusting him, that I could teach him that someone was indeed willing to love, support and forgive him when he "lost it" or made a lapse in judgment.

The thing is, people like Dominick don't become better people when you love and forgive them.  They simply see another way they can "get over" on you, if you're lucky, or to bully and harass you if you aren't.

Sometimes I wish I'd been more of a bitch--or, at least, someone who doesn't take any shit--when I was with him. Then, he wouldn't have done a lot of what he'd done, mainly becuase the relationship wouldn't have lasted nearly as long as it did.

How I Fell Into It

Someone, I forget who, once said that you are truly in prison when you get used to it.  I could say something like that about being in an abusive relationship with someone who’s transphobic.

If you’ve been in an abusive relationship—or if you have spent time around people who’ve been in such relationships—you know that one reason why people stay with abusive partners is that the abuse starts to seem normal. Actually, the person suffering the abuse doesn’t see it as such, at least early in the relationship, because it comes in almost innocuous ways at first.  It starts with the put-down or other insensitive remark that its target forgives or simply allows to go by.  The thing is, the first abusive remark or gesture doesn’t seem that much, if at all, worse than what the abused person has experienced before.

So, when someone says that if you break up with him, you’ll never find anyone else—or will find someone like him, only worse—because you’re too old, fat or ugly or trans, it’s not that much worse than what you’ve heard from other people.  In fact, you might—as I did—have already believed such things, at least subconsciously.  At least, that is what I felt when Dominick told me those things early in our relationship.  I let those remarks go, in part because he is a good bit younger than I am and, as I noticed, not particularly mature for his age.  Plus, he came from a family whose members always said mean and insulting things to each other “in the heat of the moment” or when they were “letting off steam”.

Also, because he is younger—and much better-looking than I expected from my first relationship in my life as a woman, which I began in middle age—I took it as a sign that, yes, I could “succeed” as a woman.  When I began my transition, I met some really scary—and sorry—males.  They saw me as a “chick with a dick” and imputed all sorts of sexual perversions to me.  They believed that I would do, and submit to, all sorts of things they would never demand of “the girl next door” or their boyfriends.  Also—I realized this almost immediately—some of them were trying not to admit to themselves that they were gay, or that they weren’t.

 

Dominick was somewhat akin to them in that he didn’t want to deal with his own life, and his true desires, on their own terms.  Sometimes he would claim to be bisexual, other times gay, depending on what would work best for the occasion.  When I first knew him, he wanted me to “stick” him.  I politely explained that I couldn’t get an erection unless I stopped taking hormones for a few months.  (At that point, I’d been taking them for almost two years.)  When he realized that I wasn’t going to do that, he used to find things he needed a “he-man” or “alpha male” to help him with and make a point of telling people we met that I was a man who was taking hormones.

What I didn’t realize—or, actually, want to admit to myself—was that he’d never given up the dream that one night I would meet him somewhere for dinner (which I would pay for, of course) and announce that I was going to revert to my old name and life and support him in style.  I realized that as the time drew near for my surgery.  When I first scheduled it, he voiced support and even promised to accompany me to it.  But, he found other commitments, other things that had to be done.  For example, the house in which he’d lived his entire life, and looked as if it had never been remodeled in the sixty years it had been in his family, simply had to be redone.  That meant, of course, that he would have to work during the summer.  (He was a special education paraprofessional.)  All right, I said, do what you need to do.

When the summer session ended that August, I was home, recuperating from my surgery.  Millie, who lived across the street from me, stopped by every day and Tami, who lived up the street, came by a couple of times a week.  They bought groceries, helped me with my laundry, changed cat litter and did other things that my inability to lift prevented me from doing.  They even made a few meals for me.

Where was Dominick?  In Aruba.  He “needed” the vacation, he insisted.

Oh--did I mention that the last time I went to his house before my surgery, he blew smoke in my face?  Whenever I talked to him about his two-pack-a-day habit, he took it as an affront.  Now, I must say that he didn’t smoke in my apartment:  I explained that my landlady, who had young children, lived directly above me and one of the conditions of my renting the apartment was that nobody smoked while in it.  But, when I was at his house, he asserted his “right”—which, of course, he had—to puff away.  “My grandmother’s been smoking all of her life,” he’d insist.  So was everyone else in his family.  But, I insisted, if he had any respect for me as a person, he wouldn’t smoke in my presence.  I could just as well have asked him to give up sex with men.

I told him I didn’t want to see or hear from him anymore.  Then I stopped returning his calls and e-mails.  I figured he would get tired of that, as he gives up on almost anything that requires any effort on his part.  But, somehow, he found the energy to escalate his abuse and harassment.  He started leaving “tranny” jokes and the frankly transphobic dialogue from South Park on my voice mail.  After I didn’t respond, he left messages, e-mails and comments on this blog from phone numbers and addresses that weren’t his own and couldn’t be traced.  The early ones said that I’m not a woman and was trying to avoid the “fact” that I’m a gay man.  At least, those accusations were ridiculous:  He said my Adam’s Apple (which I’ve never had) or some other thing gave me away. 

I igonored his voice messages and e-mails and didn’t publish his comments.  Now, after a few months of being ignored, most people would get the message.  But, in this sense, Dominick wasn’t most people:  The more I ignored him, the more he escalated his harassment.  And the harassment turned into stalking, threats and false rumors and other lies about me. When he couldn’t find a more pointed insult or more creative way to bother me, he’d leave simply yell, “Fuckin’ bitch” into my voice-mail—from some number that couldn’t be traced, of course.

Now, you might think that his words and actions were inconsequential, as he didn’t resort to any physical violence.  I understand; that is what I thought—or, at least, told myself.  But he found other ways to escalate his verbal and psychological abuse, and it’s cost me in a lot of different ways.  I’ll talk more about those things in a future post.

What's Being Trans Got To Do With It?

At first glance, it looks like just another soap opera involving super-rich New Yorkers.

An agoraphobic heiress falls behind in her maintenance fees on her co-op. With fines and legal fees, she owes over $230,000.

Plus, neighbors in her building--the El Dorado, on Central Park West--complain that her chain smoking fill their apartments and adjacent hallways with noxious fumes.

So, those neighbors mount a campaign to evict her from the building, where Bruce Willis recently bought an apartment for $8.6 million.  

Leave it to the Daily News to find another "twist" in this New York story. Since you're reading this blog, you've already guessed it:  the woman they're trying to evict is transgendered.

Diane Wells doesn't sound like the sort of neighbor I'd want to have, especially if my digs were so pricy.  Still, nowhere in the story did it mention that neighbors want to evict her because of her gender identity.  In fact, from what I read, I'd guess that they didn't suspect her identity just because they probably saw so little of her.

If anything, I'd guess the real reason why someone wants to evict her is that she's been living in her apartment for a long time and someone--probably a member of the co-op board-- wants it for him or her self, or a family member or friend.  After all, it's a big three-bedroom apartment in one of the most desired residential neighborhoods on the face of the Earth.

If Ms. Wells' gender identity is, or might be, a reason why her neighbors are trying to evict her, Daily News correspondents Barbara Ross and Dareh Gregorian haven't explained it.

A Self-Hater Smears Tyler Clementi With A Stereotype

Robert Oscar Lopez may well have the courage of his convictions.  But, it seems that he doesn't have a whole lot of logic to back them up.

He was raised by a same-sex couple but has become an anti-gay activist. I don't even need to speculate about that; if anyone is still paying attention to him in a few years, we'll find out what has motivated him.  Perhaps it's nothing more than the youthful rebellion people often express against their parents.

Lopez claims that Tyler Clementi jumped off the George Washington Bridge not because his roommate secretly recorded him kissing another man and aired that video on YouTube, but because he was raped by gay paedophiles when he was a teenager.

Now, in spite of its reliance on, and reinforcement of, crude stereotypes, I am willing to entertain such a notion pending further evidence and explanation.  Most paedophiles are not gay; they do not engage in sex with adults of their own gender. (I know this from experience; as a child I was sexually assaulted by a man who was not sexually interested in grown men.  Then again, one could argue--as I would--that I wasn't a boy.)  But, even if we allow Lopez the benefit of the doubt when he expresses such crude and misinformed notions, we cannot let this go:  He says that society's acceptance of homosexuality has resulted in the widespread sexual abuse of children by gay men.

I have yet to see a plausible explanation of how "acceptance" of homosexuality results in gay men having sex with children.  In fact, I don't see how "acceptance" of any sort of orientation results in more sex of any kind.  As we have seen, people express their love and attractions whether or not society approves of them:  The only thing that changes is that they become more open about such expression when they are less likely to face hostility.  

And what do gay men express more openly?  Their love of other men.  If we accept all of the research--and testimony of gay men and other people--that "gay" is not synonymous with "paedophile", it's absurd to claim that an "acceptance" of homosexuality leads to paedophilia.

On top of that--This is something else I can say from my own experience and that of others--people rarely, if ever, commit suicide over being sexually abused.  At least, we don't do it in the way of Tyler Clementi: Sometimes we engage in self-destructive behavior of other kinds that leads, over time, to our deaths.  More often, though, we drink too much, take drugs or engage in other self-destructive behavior until something leads us to confront the abuse we experienced.  Or we express it in other ways:  Had Tyler Clementi been sexually abused, he might have expressed it in the way he played the music he was studying.  And, perhaps, he might have had a breakdown or some other traumatic event.  But I have a hard time believing he'd have killed himself over childhood sexual abuse--or, for that matter, had he experienced such abuse, that it would have been committed by a gay man.

Dora Ozer Murdered In Her Home

Seven years ago, I spent almost a month in Turkey.  I hope to return one day:  There is so much art and architectural achievement, history and natural beauty there.  The food is also great, and the people are the most hospitable and friendly I've met in my travels.

Because of what I've just said about the people, it breaks my heart to read about hate violence in Turkey even more than it pains me to read of such things in other places.  But it seems that transgender people incur violence, and are killed, with alarming frequency in Turkey.

I hasten to add that at no time did I feel that I was in any danger when I was there.  Then again, having spent so much of my life in New York (parts of it in tough neighborhoods), I am alert to my surroundings and the things unscrupulous people try.  Also, I am not boasting when I say that some people--men in particular--were simply intrigued by me.  Although I was there early in my transition, some men--and I have been assured of this by some Turkish men I've met in this country--were inerested in me because I am fair-skinned, more-or-less blonde and taller than about 95 percent of the women there.  Two men engaged in unsavory behavior, but the others were gentlemanly.  

So I can't help but to think that I was lucky or something when I read about the violence against transgender women in that country.  

What makes the killing of Dora Ozer even worse is that it happened right in her home, and her body was found by her housemate.  

In spite of her killing, and others of trans people, the Turkish government says it has no plans to prosecute, let alone pass legislation against, crimes committed on the basis of sexual idenity or gender orientation.  I'd like to hold out some kind of hope but, from what I've been hearing and reading, the government is slipping into the hands of Islamic fundamentalists.  Given that Turkey has long been, arguably, the most secular Muslim-majority country, I can only fear for LGBT people in the Middle East in its neighboring countries.

Tomorrow: Equal Access Bill Hearing In Massachusetts

Today I'm cross-posting an announcement that appeared on Planetransgender, where it was in turn cross-posted from the Massachusetts Transgender Political Coalition.

Even if you don't live in the Bay State, you may want to look at the announcement and letter template for some ideas about what you might do in your own state if it offer specific legal protections for transgender people:

Take action NOW for the July 9 Equal Access Bill hearing

Cross posted from the Massachusetts Transgender Political Coalition.

MTPC’s legislative focus is on An Act Relative to Equal Access in Hospitals, Public Transportation, Nursing Homes, Supermarkets, Retail Establishments, and All Other Places Open to the Public (House Bill 1589/Senate Bill 643), which would add “gender identity” to existing state civil rights laws, which currently permit the exclusion of transgender people in public spaces.

How You Can Help

The hearing for the Equal Access Bill is scheduled for July 9, 2013, and WE NEED YOUR TESTIMONY. We provide a letter template below and sample letters that you can use to provide written testimony in advance of the Equal Access Bill hearing. The July 9 hearing is also open to the public (details to come), so please come out and show your support.

If you are registered to vote in the district of any of the members of the Joint Committee on the Judiciary who are hearing this bill (listed below), please let them know you support Equal Access. The most helpful would be for you to meet with your legislator from the Joint Judiciary Committee in person. Please let us know if you want to meet with you legislator about the Equal Access Bill. We’re happy to help you prepare for your meeting. You can also call their office and use our calling script.

Members of the Joint Judiciary Committee in the Senate: Katherine Clark, Senate Chair; Gale D. Candaras, Senate Vice Chair; William N. Brownsberger; Patricia D. Jehlen; John F. Keenan; Richard J. Ross. In the House: Eugene L. O’Flaherty, House Chair; Christopher M. Markey, House Vice Chair; Bruce J. Ayers; Claire D. Cronin; Sean Curran; Colleen M. Garry; Sheila C. Harrington; Carlos Henriquez; Kevin J. Murphy; Jeffrey N. Roy; Daniel B. Winslow.

Below is a template you can use when writing a letter to your state senator or representative. Please feel free to add more about your reasons for supporting this bill or describe your own experiences of discrimination in a place of public accommodation. If you are unsure of who your state House and Senate legislators are, you can look them up by searching for your town or zip code on https://malegislature.gov/People/Search.

When your letter is complete, email it to us at jesseb@masstpc.org. We’ll take care of the rest. 

Letter template

Dear Senator Clark, Representative O’Flaherty, and members of the Joint Committee on the Judiciary,

My name is ___________________ and I live at ____________________________ [include your address (optional) and the name of your town. Optional: what’s your family situation?].   I am _____________________ [include occupation, group memberships--be short and selective].

I am writing to urge you to support An Act Relative to Equal Access in Hospitals, Public Transportation, Nursing Homes, Supermarkets, Retail Establishments, and all other places open to the public, introduced in the House by Representatives Carl Sciortino and Byron Rushing and in the Senate by Senators Ben Downing and Sonia Chang-Diaz. This proposed law would prohibit discrimination in places of public accommodation such as [list three to five types of public accommodations. Some examples are: hospitals, hotels, restaurants, stores, nursing homes, theaters, convention centers, libraries, public transportation, public streets, offices of state and local government, and polling places--see the Examples of Public Accommodations PDF for other places].

I believe this bill is important because ________________________________________ [please add your personal story or reason for supporting this bill].

With the passage of this law, Massachusetts would send a clear message to its citizens that all people are entitled to feel safe in their communities and to be offered the full protection of the law, regardless of their gender identity or expression.

By offering protection in places of public accommodation where people experience harassment and discrimination, this law would increase productivity, freedom, and safety for transgender youth and adults who are employees, consumers, residents, and students.

Please help Massachusetts join the many communities–including the states of Rhode Island, Vermont, and Maine–that already provide protection in places of public accommodation on the basis of gender identity and/or expression.

[Write a closing sentence that sums up what you believe this bill will accomplish and/or how your life would be better when this bill passes.]

Respectfully,
[Your Name]

When your letter is complete, email it to us at jesseb@masstpc.org. We’ll take care of the rest. 

Resources

Sample testimony 1
Sample testimony 2
Sample testimony 3
Sample testimony 4

Download PDF about Testifying at a Public Hearing (MGLPC)
Download Oral/Written Testimony Worksheet PDF

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 General Supports A Transition In Australia

Yesterday I wrote about someone who defended the rights of transgender prisoners in New Zealand.  Today, I'm going to remain in the same part of the world, if you will--and show another example of an enlightened attitude toward transgender people.

Lieutenant Colonel Cate McGregor of the Australian Defense Force wrote a stirring speech for her supervisor, Lietenant General David Morrison.  That, in itself, may not seem remarkable:  After all, who can feel more righteous indignation over sexism in the military than someone who's experienced it.  Also, Lt. Col. McGregor is a world-renowned cricket writer.

What makes this story so--well, moving--is, aside from Lt. Gen. Morrison's delivery of the speech, the incidents that prompted it, and courageous actions he took in response to them.

Apparently, an army e-mail ring distributed degrading images of women--both in and out of the military--who, they believed, could be exploited for sex.  Morrison said, in no uncertain terms, that there is "simply no place" for such sexism, or bigotry of any kind.  "Those who think it's OK to behave in a way that demeans or exploits their colleague have no place in this army," Morrison warned his troops by video.  Then, he advised, "Show moral courage and take a stand against it."

Before making that speech, he actually did what he expected the people under his command to do.  You see, Cate McGregor was actually given the name Malcolm at birth and joined the Army under that name.  When she "came out" to Morrison, she tendered her resignation because she didn't want to "cause embarrasment" to his office.

What was Morrison's response? "I want you to know that I'm privileged that you could tell me about the crisis you're facing and I will be with you every step of the way."

When an American military commander can say something like that to a service member under his or her command, the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" will finally be complete.  Until then, we will have to look to countries like Australia to find commanders like Morrison who realize that they need every good soldier, sailor, airman/woman or other service member they can get, and that the military can't survive as a "demographic ghetto" or "a smokestack industry in a changing world."

In a way, none of this is surprising.  After all, in the Gallipoli Campaign of World War I, both the British and the Ottomans realized that the Australians knew what it took to train good soldiers and build a good fighting force.  Both sides respected their prowess.  Now the whole world can respect the judgment of folks like Lieutenant General Morrison.

Why The Rights Of Transgender Prisoners Matter

New Zealand is like most other countries in that male-to-female transgender inmates are confined to men's prisons.

Unlike most other countries, New Zealand has a government that is reviewing such a policy.  This is a result of report from the University of Auckland's Equal Justice Project, which documented the danger of sexual assualt such prisoners face.  

While the government's willingness to review the policy is laudable, Green Party Member of Parliament Jan Logue says that action is needed urgently because "when we lock someone in prison, we have an obligation to ensure that they are safe".

Whether or not one believes that the government should pay for the hormones, psychotherapy or surgery of someone in prison, I still think one has to agree that prisoners should be safe while they are in prison if one of the goals of incarceration is rehabilitation.  Granted, prisons don't always achieve this goal, and perhaps not all prisoners are rehabilitatable.  Still, the prison environment must be safe for anyone for whom there is any hope of change.

Also, while I believe that we are responsible for our actions, I know that having to deal with the ostracism, prejudice and even violence that many of us (as well as members of other "minority" groups) face is enough to drive some of us to desperation and rage--or to commit crimes or even violence in self-defense.  

I hope that the New Zealand government's willingness to review their policy will result in changing it and that more jurisdictions--including those here in the US--will do likewise.

A Fourth Anniversary on the Fourth

I can't believe that four years--almost--have passed since my surgery!

On this date four years ago, I flew from LaGuardia to Denver International Airports, then to Colorado Springs, where I spent the night.  It's the one and only time I've spent my birthday in transit, I believe. But it was appropriate somehow: On the anniversary of my physical arrival in this world, I was on my way to my birth--or, at least, the birth of the person I have always wanted to be.

The following day, Robin from Dr. Bowers' office picked me up and drove me to Trinidad.  I recall the easy rapport we seemed to have and how calm I felt through my trip and the time up to the very moment of my surgery.  Of course, that calm immediately before the surgery was an effect of the anaesthesiologist's work.  But the time before then had much to do with Robin, other people I met in Trinidad and, of course, Dr. Bowers herself.

On this day four years ago, I was on my way.

California Bill For K-12 Transgenders

Today, California lawmakers approved a bill that would allow transgender K-12 students to decide which bathrooms they will use, and on which sports teams they will participate.

As usual, some people worry that boys will pretend to be transgender in order to "sneak and peek" in girl's bathrooms.  

I can tell you that such a fear is unfounded.  No boy who wants to see what a girl has under her panties would ever pretend that he's transgender.  After all, most boys--at least those of a certain age--want to date girls.  There's no way they'll get to do that if they're trans, or even if they are seen as "girly".   Plus, almost no boy--not even the toughest--would subject himself to the bullying and worse he would experience for being perceived as "girly".  

Plus, I remember the bullying I experienced in boy's bathrooms, even though my clothing and other aspects of my appearance were completely congruent with what most people in this society (at that time, anyway) expected of boys.  It would begin with a comment like, "I thought this was a BOY's bathroom!" and go downhill from there.  I can only imagine what I would have faced had I dressed like a girl and manifested my mind and spirit in other ways.  

I hope that at least some kids--including, now, the ones in California--won't have such experiences.

Capital Crimes Against Trans Women Of Color

In recent posts, I mentioned the spate of anti-LGBT crimes in New York during the days leading up to Pride.  It seems that any city with a visible LGBT community--particulalry one that's a destination for such events as Pride--experiences at least its share of such attacks.

However, in one such city, the "Pride Season" crime spress seems to have taken a particularly disturbing turn:  The victims are male-to-female transgenders of color.

That city is the capital of the USA:  Washington, DC. This past Saturday morning--the day before Pride--a transgender woman was shot and another was stabbed.  The attacks on them followed other attacks on trans women of color during the weeks leading up to Pride.  

Also, on the previous Saturday, a lesbian was shot to death in what was described as a botched robbery.  Whether or not that is the case, it's still disturbing to see that LGBT people--especially trans people, and those of color--are over-represented in the roster of hate crime victims, and that some of the more brutal of such crimes are happening in this nation's capital.

By The Time We Got To Stonewall

You've all heard "Woodstock" by Crosby Stills Nash & Young.  If you haven't, you have 43 years of catching-up to do.

I'll bet that unless you're one of her fans, you probably didn't know that Joni Mitchell actually wrote the song.  She was going to perform it, but wasn't able to go to the festival.  So CSNY--who were performing only for the second time as a group--did it.

But I digress.  I was thinking about that song--and about Melanie's "Lay Down" when I took this photo with my cell phone:

Yes, I was in NYC Pride.  I marched with the Anti-Violence Project (and wore one of those T-shirts).  Near the end of the march, we passed the Stonewall Inn, where the events that made Pride possible took place on a hot early summer night in 1969.

It's the first time in four years--and since my surgery--that I've marched.  I normally don't care much for parades--as a marcher or spectator--but I make an exception for Pride.  And marching with the Anti-Violence Project was right for me:  I've been volunteering with them, and they (especially one counselor, "Miss Vicki" Cruz), have helped me to deal with the aftermath of a relationship.

After marching with AVP, I walked over to St. Luke In The Fields--only steps from the end of the march--for a picnic and Evensong. A contingent from the church--and the Episcopal diocese--promenaded down Christopher Street about three hours after AVP.

I don't know how many people marched or spectated, but I'd bet that number is much larger than that of those who performed at, and attended, Woodstock!  And, yes, we were strong and all the other things (except, perhaps, as full of drugs) as were those who went to Max Yasgur's farm to see and hear CSNY, Jimi Hendrix and all of those other legendary performers.

We got Lady Gaga and Edie Windsor.  While Edie's not a performer, she's one of our stars.  At least, she deserves the "star" treatment!

What Does The Supreme Court Ruling On Proposition 8 Really Mean?

Last night, I volunteered with the Anti-Violence Project.  Two fellow volunteers and I were doing an outreach in the Village. At the end of it, we found ourselves by the Stonewall Inn.  Exactly 44 years earlier, on the night of 28 July 1969, drag queens, street hustlers and other patrons of the bar resisted an NYPD raid on the premises.  

A crowd commemorated that event.  They also celebrated the Supreme Court ruling that, in essence, rendered Proposition 8 null and void.  Some proclaimed  that there was indeed "marriage equality".

I didn't want to be a party-pooper.  So I didn't tell anyone what I was thinking:  "Not so fast!"  Yes, same-sex marriages can resume in California. But it still means that only fourteen states allow such unions.  Admittedly, those states include two of the three most populous, and all of New England. Still, we cannot talk about "equality" at this point for a number of reasons.

Same-sex couples who are married in New York, California or any other state that allows such unions still have to think about what they would do if they were to move to a state that doesn't even have civil unions.  If one member of the couple has a job with benefits, he or she probably would not be able to name his or her partner as a beneficiary.  Also, what if one of them gets sick? Would the other be able to visit him or her in a hospital?  

Actually, the couple wouldn't have to move to face the hospital visitation dilemma:  All they'd have to do is take a vacation or other trip to one of those states.  Or, what if they have a kid and that kid manages to get lost or otherwise separated?  Would authorities in such a state rule that the couple weren't really the kid's parents and not return that kid to them?

Things are even more complicated for us transfolk.  Idaho, Tennessee and Ohio only recognize the gender to which people are assigned at birth:  They will not even amend a birth certificate (let alone issue a new one) to ratify a gender "change."  Not surprisingly, those states don't allow same-sex marriages (or even civil unions).  So, what if I were to marry a man and one of us were to get a job in, say, Columbus or Memphis?  For all intents and purposes, we'd be nothing more than roommates. So, for example, if I were to get a job in a university, my husband could not be a beneficiary on my health insurance policy.  Or, if he were to buy or rent housing, my name could not be on the deed or lease.

And what if we had a kid?

In brief, the Supreme Court decision, while an important step, doesn't even come close to bringing about equality.  I believe it will be achieved one day, but I'm not sure of how.  Will the Federal government grant same-sex couples all of the same benefits and privileges enjoyed by heterosexual married couples?  Will it recognize gender identity in the same way as, say, New York now does?  If so, could the Supreme Court rule that all states have to adopt the same standards?  If the Court were to do that, I can imagine some states putting up quite a fight.

They're Pediatricians, Not Pedophiles!

Sexual-minority youth should not be considered abnormal.

At first glance, it just seems like a fancy way of saying "Queer kids ain't weird."

But that statement means so much more, especially since it was issued by the American Academy of Pediatrics.

As you can imagine, a lot of self-styled "pundits" are now convinced that the medical profession is being used to promote homosexuality among kids. Oh, right: Folks who take the Hippocratic Oath specifically to help kids are going to encourage them to adopt a "lifestyle" that leaves them vulnerable to ostracism, bullying and worse.  Just like Janice Raymond--and a onetime friend of mine who takes her words as gospel--got it right when they said people like me "change" genders because we want to take all of those women's studies faculty positions that should go to "real" women.

I'll admit that I don't know anything about the practice of medicine, let alone pediatrics.  However, I think I wouldn't be too far off in assuming that most practitioners are interested in healing and making their patients whole.  Telling said patients that they're sick or immoral because of whom they love is really going to help accomplish that, isn't it?

It seems to me that reactionaries are feeling the heat, now that trans people are not deemed mentally ill in DSM-V and a slightly-right-of-center judge wrote the Supreme Court's opinion that the so-called "Defense of Marriage" Act is unconstitutional.

I still remember when relatively mature and sane people actually thought that all lesbians, gays and transgenders were trying to "recruit" kids.  Recruit them to what, exactly?, I used to ask myself.

At least I haven't heard that canard in a while.  What it means, I guess, is that haters and other lunatics will come up with new bogus arguments in their attempts to win the day.  But they can only win one day, and another, and another.  Eventually, those with the facts on their side win the (instead of "the", "this" or "one") day.  It just takes a while sometimes.

Pride Week

“Pride Week” has begun here in New York.  It will culminate in the march that begins in Midtown Manhattan and follows Fifth Avenue, Washington Square and Christopher Street for about two and a half miles (four km) to the Stonewall Inn, where the modern LGBT movement began.

I will be involved with two events related to “Pride” (as nearly everyone here calls it) and will most likely march.  This will be my first Pride involvement in four years.  I marched in 2009, a mere nine days before my surgery, with a group of LGBT people I know from work.  After my surgery, I distanced myself from Pride and related events, and even LGBT organizations because I felt—as so many post-op people do—that I was no longer part of the “queer” community and was, in fact, more aligned with cisgender women.

Somehow, I still feel that way.  However, I also see that my life as a woman is taking a different direction from any I could have anticipated when I was living in anticipation of my surgery.

Although I could not see myself living a life like that of Christine Jorgensen or any of the early post-op women, I still believed that I would live the life of a cisgneder heterosexual woman and would fit into society’s standards of behavior and lifestyle—if not beauty—for such women.  In that sense, my life is what I expected:  I can’t remember the last time anyone looked at me askance and, unless I reveal my history (which I don’t do unless I’ve known someone for some time or there’s some other compelling reason), people treat me as if I’m a middle-aged (or perhaps slightly younger) woman.  Even after they know about my “secret”, people treat me as the woman I am. 

Still, I came to realize that my life could not be like that of any non-transgender woman or, for that matter, like that of the man I once was or that of any other man (not that I wanted the life of a man).  Only recently, though, have I come to realize some of the reasons why this is so. 

One, of course, is the fact that I lived as long as I did as a male.  Had I begun my transition at an earlier age, as another Trinidad “alumna” did, perhaps I could have re-written my history, as Christine Jorgensen and early transsexuals were advised to do.  Had I begun to take hormones and undergone gender-reassignment surgery before my puberty (as, to my knowledge, no one in my generation did), perhaps I could have denied that I had a childhood as a male.  Then again, I’m not so sure that such a denial would have been healthy.

 

Perhaps the best analogy I can find is in the academic world in which I have worked for more than a decade.  Some become faculty members or administrators after lives that were a “straight path”:  They went to elite private schools and colleges and, perhaps, one or both parents were professors.  On the other hand, there are those who, like me are a minority:  We grew up with no concept of what being a professor meant or, perhaps, that such a job even existed.  Our parents may not have finished college, or even high school:  Perhaps they didn’t even speak the language of the country in which we were raised, went to school or became faculty members.

Members of the latter group have, in essence, two choices.  They can deny their pasts and disavow their families and other people and things from their pasts.  I’ve met people who did that:  At best, they became very cold, detached people, which in some cases helped them advance—but only to a point.  Then there are the others who simply became warped or diseased.

 

Their other choice is to find new ways to forge identities as professors, scholars and educators, and to use those experiences that seemed not to prepare them for the lives on which they embarked. Some do so by incorporating their lives (or those of someone else) as children of blue collar, immigrant or racial “minority” families, or as kids who had to grow up with gender identities or sexual orientations that didn’t mirror the ones presented to them in their schools, families, churches, or in the media or the culture at large.

Even if you have the most supportive environment, there is little about your life in the gender to which you were assigned at birth—or even in your transition from it—that actually prepares you for your new life in the gender of your mind and spirit.  This is not an indictment of the counselors, therapists and doctors who guide our transitions.  Rather, it has more to do with having come into our womanhood or manhood (or however we express our gender identities) through means for which there is no guidebook, if you will—and, in many communities, no will to prepare someone for coming into one’s own self.

 

Also, I’ve come to realize that my life as a woman is taking a different turn because, ironically, of an experience too many other women (and men) have:  An intimate partner abused me.  Other women with whom I’ve shared the experienced have given me support, and even empathy, for which I am grateful.  I’m sure that some have experienced abuse that was even more intense and destructive than mine.  However, they have not experienced something I endured in my relationship:  a partner who used my very identity, and tried to turn my sense of self, against me.  

Now, I know that far too many women have had to deal with scrutiny, skepticism and worse when they reported the abuse they endured.  Even some female police officers and medical professionals treat female victims as if they somehow lacked credibility or, worse, as if they somehow “brought on” their abuse.  But my partner used my very identity—the fact that I lived for more than four decades as male, and that I transitioned—to portray me as a sexual predator.  Well, that’s what he tried to do, anyway.  Other trans women have endured similar treatment.

My experiences with law enforcement authorities had at least one parallel with those of gay men and lesbians who endured bias crimes:  We are seen as less credible, and less worthy of the help on which other people can depend, because we “brought it on ourselves” by choosing our “lifestyles”. 

A man who wakes up every day and puts on his suit and tie, or overalls, and who mounts his wife (or girlfriend) after dinner and libations is not seen as pursuing a “lifestyle”.  Nor is the woman who puts on her pearls and pumps, or her cocktail waitress uniform and, at the end of the day, allows the man to mount her after he’s given her a dozen roses.   So why is our natural expression of ourselves so dismissed?

That I must ask such a question is the reason why—for better and worse—I cannot completely separate myself from the LGBT community, at least not yet.

Why Crimes Against LGBT (Especially T) People Are Under-Reported

Whenever the number of assualts and other crimes against LGBT people increases--as it did for several years in the first decade of this century-- some observers minimize it by attributing it to "greater willingness to report" such crimes to the police.  However, when there is a decrease, as was reported from 2011 to 2012, the same reason is often given:  Increased reporting, it is said, leads to greater awareness and prevention.

While either, or even both, of these explanations may be plasible, the National Association of Anti-Violence Projects points out that LGBT people are disproportionately targeted for discrimination and violence.  The risk of experiencing everything from slurs to slaying increases exponentially if you are transgendered (especially MTF) or of color.  

Whether the rate is increasing or not, and whatever factors may be in play, it's still difficult not to think that crimes against LGBT people--especially trans women and those of color--are grossly underreported.  Some are mis-categorized--as, most famously, the death of Marsha P. Johnson was ruled a suicide while evidence indicates that she may have met her fate at the hands of one or more haters on the old Christoper Street pier, where someone saw her body floating in the Hudson River.

Recently, I have volunteered as an outreach worker for the Anti-Violence Project here in New York.  My own impetus to do so came from my own experience.  I did not experience physical violence in a relationship in which I was involved; however, my now-ex beau used my identity as a trans person to spread false rumors and outright lies about me.  He threatened more of the same if I didn't let him back into my life.  In doing so, he also exposed me to the threat of physical violence from others:  Too many people are willing to believe that trans people are committing all manner of sexual crimes, and more than a few are willing to kill us over such notions.  

I mention my experience not only to show that violence and abuse need not be physical in order to cause harm, or even death, to a trans person. Yet the very notions too many people--including the ex--have are one reason why many of us are reluctant to report the abuse and other crimes we experience.  Too many people--including many police officers, including all except one I encountered in my local precinct--believe that we "had it coming" to us for being who we are.  And some of us even experience harassment from police officers, as I did the first time I went to the local precinct.

I had to go to that precinct three times before anyone would even take a report from me--and they did that only after I went to the court and a counselor advised me on what to do.  (That counselor was also very sympathetic and supportive.  She is black; I wonder whether she also experienced threats and other abuse.)  And, to give more credit where it's due, the court clerks and officers were very helpful to me. Still, I can't help but to wonder, though, how many other trans women--and other LGBT people--had experiences like mine, and whether any gave up after experiencing such official hostility only once.  Even more to the point, I wonder how many people simply didn't report abuse, assaults or worse because they'd heard horror stories like mine about dealing with the police.

Whatever the year-to-year statistical fluctations are in anti-LGBT discrimination and violence, I believe that such violations will be under-reported for many years to come. Only after changes in training law enforcement officials and societal attitudes have influenced a generation or two of people will more of us feel confident that we can report the offenses against us without having to worry about experiencing more prejudice and even violence from those to whom we report those crimes.