Trans Teen Pimped On Streets, Then By State

George Orwell would've had a field day with this:  Putting someone in prison can be therapeutic.


Someone actually said that.  Not in those words, of course:  After all, the person who gave us that pearl of wisdom is a bureaucrat.  That means that if she ever had the ability to speak forthrightly, it was beaten out of her or she gave it up willingly in order to preserve her lifestyle.


The "someone" in question is Joette Katz, Commissioner of the Connecticut Department of Children and Families.  Before becoming Commissioner, she was a judge.  That experience, it seems, honed the skills she's using in her current position, especially when it comes to cases like that of a 16-year-old transgender identified only as "Jane Doe".


Granted, she assaulted staff members at juvenile facilities in which she's been housed.  But staffers in such places are used to such things, and there's no indication that her attacks--if she indeed perpetrated them--were any more intense than others they've experienced.  And, it could be argued that with the proper care, Ms. Doe won't attack anybody again.


However,  Ms. Katz is accused of overstating Ms. Doe's offenses--and of not mentioning that one of the staffers involved in one of the incidents has been terminated.  Worse, Katz never mentioned that Ms. Doe has been a ward of the state through most of her life, during which she has suffered beatings, been raped and denied food.  Moreover, she has been homeless and trafficked for sex. If she isn't suffering from even the mildest form of PTSD, Ms. Doe must be one of the most resilient (or emotionally numb) human beings ever to walk the face of the Earth.


Now tell me:  How would putting her in a male prison for adults--and keeping her in solitary confinement, to boot--help her to recover from the trauma she no doubt carries?  And how would such incarceration make her less likely to assault others (if, indeed, she actually did such a thing), especially given that she has never been charged with a crime.


Think about that:  a sixteen-year-old who was removed from her mother's custody at age four, locked up--no, worse, placed in isolation--without having committed any indictable offense.  Could such a young person end up becoming a criminal simply from the anger issues she'd develop over such an ordeal. D'ya think?


But Joette Katz, the former judge, somehow believes that prison personnel--and fellow inmates of a gender different from hers--will accomplish what psychiatrists, nurses, counselors and other employees of the juvenile facilities in which she's spent much of her life couldn't do for her.


In other words, this estimable Ms. Katz believes that prison will give a young, vulnerable trans person the therapy she needs.


Oh, you're accusing me of sarcasm now, are you?  All right, I'll lay off and let you tell me whether, instead of looking out for Ms. Doe's best interests, the high commissioner is using her as a bargaining chip to placate state legislators who oversee her budget.


Could it be that Ms. Doe has gone from being pimped on the streets to being pimped by a megalomaniacal state official?


Nothing a little time alone among men won't cure, right?

Trans Woman Challenges Gay Incumbent In Maryland

One day, perhaps, this won't rate as news:  a transgender woman challenging a gay incumbent in a primary.

I'm not holding my breath.  I'm just glad that at least in Montgomery County, Maryland, they have an incumbent who has fought for the community and a challenger who, perhaps, can do even more.

Dana Beyer, the Executive Director of Gender Rights Maryland, is looking to win the nomination for a state senate seat currently held by Richard Madaleno.  They are Democrats and, since no Republican is running, the winner will most likely end up in the state's legislative body.

Unfortunately, at least one thing is depressingly predictable:  the stupid and hateful comments to an article announcing the race.

Trans Student Equality Resources

I'm sure that some of you are familiar with Trans Student Equality Resources. If you're not, check out their website:  It's full of information and all sorts of other resources useful to young trans people (of all ages) and our supporters.

Oh, and they have some neat graphics, too, like this:

Was He Taunted Into Killing?

The other day, I heard about it:   One 14-year-old boy stabbed a classmate in front of a Bronx junior high school.  Both were scheduled to step up to the podium and graduate this week.  Instead, the boy who was stabbed is lying in casket and the boy who stabbed him is in a jail cell.

I’d heard that the stabber was so bullied that, on the day he stabbed his classmate (who was once his friend and skateboard buddy), it was the first time he’d been to school in weeks.  He could barely leave his apartment; other kids—some of whom didn’t even attend the school—came to his building specifically to taunt him and even to make death threats.

Knowing nothing about him, or the other boy, I immediately thought the bullying had to do with his actual or perceived sexuality or gender identity.  I hope I don’t seem as if I’m gloating when I say I was right.  At the time, I don’t know why the thought entered my mind.  But now I think I know why it did.

You see, I experienced a pretty fair amount of bullying myself all through school, practically from the first day I can recall all the way through college.  Every single incident included homophobic and misogynistic taunts.  I was called “fag”, “queer,” “fairy” and all of the old standards.  Relationships were invented between me and shy, lonely boys who were not considered terribly masculine and with whom I just happened to talk one day or another.   Sometimes those alleged liaisons were also used to label me as a girl, or more precisely, a non-male. (Little did they know!)  Of course, when anyone was seen as female—whether or not he or she actually was—it was not in a flattering light, even if the girl was seen as sexually attractive, or at least available.   The “c” word was one of the nicer labels attached to those born with XX chromosomes.

And, I’ll admit, I did a bit of bullying myself, including one pretty serious incident.  I’ve told a few people about it; most explain it away as “self defense” or a reaction to peer or other kinds of pressures I experienced.  While their intentions might be benign or even protective, I have never tried to so rationalize the bullying I committed.  

By the same token, I will not try to use the bullying Noel Estevez   experienced to rationalize, let alone justify stabbing  Timothy Crump,  any more than I would accept the taunts, beatings and other harassment a former partner of mine experienced in his childhood and early adult life as an excuse for the abuse he committed against me.  However, my experience has also led me to understand, I believe, why Estevez  acted as he did.

So have the stories I’ve heard from friends, acquaintances, current and former co-workers and students and others who were taunted, threatened, beaten and otherwise harassed—sometimes to the point that they dropped out of school and ran away from home.  Every single one of their taunters was motivated by homophobia, misogyny (in the case of girls who were, or were perceived as, lesbians) or what we might today recognize as transphobia.  

Nearly everyone who has worked with or studied young people who’ve committed violent crime recognize that the stabbings, shootings, beatings or other forms of brutality they inflict on others are almost invariably impulsive and instinctive.  Those with a more scientific orientation than mine might accuse me of being over-simplistic, but I think there is a very common-sensical reason:  A fourteen-year-old simply doesn’t have the skills, emotional and intellectual resources—or, I suspect, even the body chemistry—to deal with blows, whether they’re physical or emotional, the way some of us learn to deal with assaults on our dignity and persons when we’re forty.  

That is the reason why I think it’s so wrong to charge Noel Estevez   as an adult.  I know lots of people will say, “Well, if he’s old enough to kill, he’s old enough to pay for it.”  I wholeheartedly agree.  However, locking up such a young man with older men who’ve killed more than once or who started their criminal careers before his mother was born will do nothing to make him pay whatever debt he can pay for taking a classmate’s life.  It will also do nothing to help him deal with the impulses on which he acted; in fact, being incarcerated with career criminals will only make him more likely to respond to the next affront with violence has as much chance of ending in his own death as that of his attacker.  

However, treating  Estevez as a juvenile might at least give him access to whatever help he needs in dealing with the traumas he’s experienced.  Some have said he acted in self-defense; I don’t think anyone portrayed him as a crazed homicidal maniac.  Given the sort of environment and treatments he needs, it’s unlikely he’d ever commit such an act again, even under the most extreme duress, including homophobic death threats.

What Kinds Of Choices Are These?

Be forewarned:  I'm going to whine in this post.  So, if you'd rather read, or simply do, something else (e.g., ride your bike), I understand.

Here goes:  I had to use up some airline miles by the other day.  I didn't have enough to get a ticket:  Indeed, the last long flight I took was to Prague nearly three years ago.  And I didn't have enough for much of anything else.  Hey, they said I didn't even have enough to donate to charity!

But the airline group (Delta) offered me magazine subscriptions.  Wouldn't you know it?  There wasn't a single cycling-related publication on the list.  Nor anything having to do with poetry or literature in any other shape or form.  Or history. Or art.  Or France, Italy or England. The only travel-related publication caters to gazillionaires.

No Atlantic Monthly.  No Harper's Bazaar.  No Paris Review.  And no New York Review of Books.

So what kinds of magazines were offered?  Cigar Aficianado.  (I have smoked exactly two cigars in my life and don't plan on smoking another. )  Wine Spectator. How, exactly, does one become a "wine spectator"?  Now, I've known a lot of whine (actually, whining) spectators in my time and have been one more often than I care to admit.  There were also magazines about parenting and other things I've never done and probably never will do.

I found only three that even remotely interested me. One is The Economist.  While their politics are different from mine, I can rationalize subscribing to it because it's literate, intelligent--and British.  What were the others?  Please don't hate me for choosing these:  Time and Vogue. At least I can tell myself that the latter will help me with my personal and professional image. And, even if I hate the writing, I can just look at the pictures.  As for Time:  I can read whatever I find halfway relevant and donate each copy to my hairdresser's shop.  

Gays-Only Village Outed

Since I've been eating a vegan diet lately, I can't lick the egg off my face.  I have to remove it by other means.  Maybe Max and Marley will lick it off.

How did it get there? Well, yesterday I wrote a post about a proposed gays-only village in the Dutch city of Tilburg.

Turns out, the thing was a hoax.

But the fact that so many people--including yours truly--believed it shows us the degree of homo- and trans-phobia, even in a supposedly liberal country like the Netherlands.

The joke's perpetrators created it for that very reason. Who's responsible for the news that wasn't?  The Roze Maandag foundation, which, among other things, organizes Pink Monday, held in Tilburg every summer.  ("Roze Maandag" is Dutch for "Pink Monday".)  Not surprisingly, they orchestrated the hoax for the very reasons I said it worked.

Dorothy Parker once said that in this country, we elect our practical jokes.  I hope that the Dutch--or, for that matter, any other nation--don't erect physical structures based on hoaxes.

A Gays-Only Village?

I have always had mixed feelings about high schools specifically for LGBT people.  On one hand, such schools might shield students from bullying they might experience in other schools.  On the other, segregation always turns the ones segregated into second-class citizens.

Now a developer wants to build a gays-only neighborhood in the Dutch city of Tilburg.  Mayor Peter Noordanus has endorsed the idea.

I'd be curious to know how much support there is for this idea in the Dutch LGBT community--or across the Netherlands generally.

Proponents of the project point out that recently, there has been an increase in the amount of violence and oppression against LGBT people.  That, in the first nation to legalize same-sex marriage and reputed to have some of the most gay-friendly laws and policies in the world.

Moreover, more than one-fifth of all gay people report that they don't feel safe in their own neighborhoods.

How can that be in the Netherlands?

Well, as in much of Europe, "Skinheads" and other hate groups have increased their membership.  These home-grown terrorists blame gays, immigrants and others who are simply different from themselves for their society's ills--including their own inability to get a job.

Sound familiar?

Still, I don't see how any good can come of such a program.  If anything, segregation sends the message to haters that it's OK to harass and brutalize those who already exprience oppression.   That is what happened in this country between the end of Reconstruction and the beginning of the Civil Rights movement.

And, if such a colony is constructed in a country like the Netherlands, what does it portend for LGBT people in other parts of the world?

Ennis Fired As ABC News Producer

"A gender-flipping producer from ABC news now has a pink slip to go with her pink slip."

If you think that line opened a New York Post article, you're close.  It's actually in the New York Daily News.

Last year, Don Ennis announced he was living his wife of 17 years and would henceforth live as Dawn.  Three months later, he said he was "misdiagnosed" and would return to living as Don.  A two-day bout of "amnesia" made him realize he wanted to live as Don again.

Just recently, Don realized he did indeed want to live as Dawn after all and once again re-emerged from the closet. Shortly thereafter, ABC news fired her for "performance-related issues" that had nothing to do with her gender-switching.

Now, I'm not in a position to know whether Ennis is indeed Don or Dawn--or both, or what his situation at ABC was.  I would suspect that, until his transition, they must have thought he was doing a good job if they kept him on their payroll for as long as they did.

Whatever the story, Don Kaplan, who filed the Daily News story should be ashamed of his immaturity.

Note:  I identified Ennis as male or female, as Don or Dawn, as he/she identified him/her self throughout the past year.  I don't mean, in any way, to pass any judgment on what Ennis' "real" gender or name might be.

Bringing Back The Gay Life In Atlantic City

Most people think LGBT history began with Stonewall.  The rebellion at the iconic Christopher Street certainly ignited the modern LGBT rights movement.  However, years, even decades before Stonewall, there were enclaves--even entire cities--that were seen as "gay havens".  Also, some industries and professions had more than their share of LGBT workers, although almost no-one ever talked about it.  As an example, when the Wall Street industries were seen as "gentlemen's professions"--before the "go-go" years of the 1980's--it was an open secret (Is that an oxymoron?) that more than a few brokers, analysts and even traders were gay.

Ironically, some of those "gay havens", whether geographic or vocational, disappeared just when the LGBT rights movement was picking up steam.  The quick, easy money that was being made on Wall Street prior to the 1987 crash filled the air with testosterone and turned the Street into a hypermasculine (and, at times, homophobic) environment.

And some of the old gay enclaves became victims, directly or indirectly, of their popularity, or from other forces.

One such example was New York Avenue in Atlantic City.  As AC turned from "America's Favorite Playground" to a slum by the sea, the gay bars, clubs and other venues gave the city whatever vitality it still had.  Indeed, even straight people used to frequent them, as they were reputed to have the best dances and parties.  

What signalled the death-knell for the old New York Avenue was the opening of casinos along the boardwalk in 1978.  Then, land prices skyrocketed and pushed out many of the gay venues, most of which were small businesses owned by the people who founded them.

Now, as other communities have legalized gambling and built casinos, Atlantic City has seen a decline in business.  Save for the boardwalk and a few adjacent streets, like New York Avenue, most of the city didn't benefit from the tourists gambling brought in.  So, AC risks once again becoming a place where dreams and people are broken, like the city depicted in Louis Malle's film, which I recommend highly.

So what can save this onetime jewel from turning into flotsam?  According to Mayor Don Guardian, the answer is gay tourism.

Growing up gay, he said, he knew that a rainbow flag was a sign that one's business was welcome and that it was a safe place to go if one felt threatened.

He may be onto something:  Other dying Jersey Shore communities like Asbury Park were saved by gay tourism.  After spending weekends or longer vacations there, some gay couples purchased houses, which were then relatively inexpensive, and renovated them for their own use or to rent as guest houses.

What If They Had Sexual Orientation Reveal Parties

Perhaps it's because I've never been a parent.  Or, perhaps, I'm just not hip enough.  

I just learned of one of the newest trends among young parents-to-be:  a "gender reveal party."

Of course, such an event would not have been possible in my mother's generation, or even when my peers started having children: No one knew a new baby's gender until he or she was delivered.

But many mothers-to-be claimed to know the gender of the babies they carried.  And, more often than not, they were right.  I guess the only reason why no one had "gender reveal parties" is that no one wanted to take the chance--and risk the embarrasment--of being wrong.

I'm not sure how I feel about this trend.  Then again, I'm not sure how I feel about knowing a child's gender before he or she arrives in this world.  I guess it might make it easier to shop and plan.  But I wonder whether it starts to influence, before the child is even born, some expectations the parents will have of, and ways they will raise, their children.

And, being a paranoid person who's read Brave New World and 1984, I can't help but to wonder what will happen when prospective parents can learn their child's hair and eye color, or other physical characteristics--or sexual orientation or gender self-identification, let alone possible disabilities--before the child is born.

His Son Is No Longer In The Closet

I won't make any "trapped in the closet" jokes.  I promise.

Too late, you say.  Oh, well.  At least you might know what's coming next:  R. Kelly's son came out as transgender.  

Thirteen-year-old Jay came out to his mother, who has given him her full support.  However, it seems that Dad is not aware of the situation.

It will be interesting, to say the least, to see how he responds to the news.  After all, for all of his talent, he's best known for peeing on teenaged girls in the sudience during one of his concerts.


 

What Does Eric Cantor's Defeat Mean For Us?

Over the past few days, a lot of bandwidth and newspaper column spaces has been devoted to post-mortems and analyses of Eric Cantor's defeat in the Virginia Republican primary.


It's the first time in the history of this country a reigning House Majority Leader lost a primary.  That in itself is sending shockwaves through the political world.  But it's also interesting for all sorts of other reasons, some of which directly affect the lives of LGBT people, and trans people in particular.


You see, Cantor was beaten by a hard-line "Tea Party" Republican named David Brat. (You've got to love it!)  Brat and his ilk believe that Cantor was "too soft" on issues like immigration, abortion, gun control and gay marriage--all of which the Tea Partiers vehemently oppose, on principle.


Brat's campaign has mirrored and echoed others all over the country:  The Tea Party folks raise doubts about the commitment of some establishment Republican to their causes and run him (almost all of them are male) out of office, or keep him from getting elected in the first place, as happened with Presidential candidate Mitt Romney in 2012. 


In their quest for ideological purity, Tea Party types are moving further and further to the fringe and appealing to smaller and smaller segments of the electorate.  Will they decide that Chris Christie, if he decides to run for President, isn't "conservative" enough?  What about John Kasich, Scott Walker or Jeb Bush?  Even though I have little in common, at least in my political beliefs, with them, I would hardly consider them extremists, at least by the standards of the current Republican Party?


In their effort to forge a Stepford party, they are, ironically, making it more likely that Hillary Clinton--whom nearly all of them loathe--will become President in 2016.  Heck, they could make it possible for Elizabeth Warren, whom they dislike nearly as much, to move into the White House. 


As commentators like Paul Krugman have pointed out, more and more Americans are in favor of--or, at least, not opposed to--gun control, legal access to safe abortions, immigration reform and--the bête noire of the Tea Party--same-sex marriage.  And the latter has been upheld by conservative Republican Federal judges in places like Utah!


So why does the Tea Party wing of the Republican Party become more vehement in their opposition to those changes?  I'll give you a one-word answer:  Hate.  Yes, I said it.  They hate LGBT people.  (At least most of them don't try to hide it with "Love the sinner, hate the sin" nonsense.)  They hate Hispanics, the racial/ethnic group with the most people who would benefit from immigration reform.  They hate the poor, they hate women, they hate children and anyone who happens to be on the wrong side of a firearm. 


That said, I was never any fan of Romney, Cantor, Christie, Bush or the other mainstream Republicans I mentioned.  They represent mainly corporate and other big-money interests.  (In all fairness, so do most Democrats, at least to some degree.)  But they have supported--or, at least didn't make much of a show of opposing--immigration reform and the other changes I've mentioned. (Romney voiced opposition to them, but the Tea Party, rightly, wasn't convinced.)  Of course, they supported those things for entirely different reasons from the right ones: For example, to them immigration reform means more cheap labor.  But at least they weren't appealing to the basest instincts of their constituents--which is how people like Professor Brat win primaries. 


What does that mean for us?  Well, the further to the fringe Tea Party candidates move, the more persistent and just plain vicious their attacks on us will become.  Although I believe we will ultimately win, we have to be ready for them. 

Now That I'm The "Older Woman On A Bike"...

Time was (How many posts have I started with that phrase?) back in the day (Or that?) when I could develop love interests only with people who were older than me.  Or, at least, I couldn’t get involved with people who were younger than I was.

Anyway, I was describing my old dilemma, if you will, to a friend.  She sighed knowingly.  “I understand how you feel,” she said.  “The young ones look good.  But finding one with whom you have much in common is difficult.”

“Forget that,” I retorted.  “I’m getting to an age where there are fewer and fewer people who are older than I am.”

She laughed.  “And, you know, when you look for men who are available and don’t have baggage, the pool shrinks even more,” she added.

I didn’t tell her that I wouldn’t limit my prospects to men.  If I can find a woman close to my age with whom I’m compatible, I could make the rest of it work, I think.

Why am I talking about these things?  Well, I found myself thinking about my concept of “older” the other day while riding home.  What triggered such a rumination?  

While riding to work, I saw two women who, from all appearances, were in the later stages of middle age. (No, they're not the ones in the photo!) One rode a Cannondale road bike with dropped bars; the other pushed pedals on a Specialized hybrid or flat-bar road bike.  Both looked as if they were dressed from the Terry catalogue.  Then, during my bike ride home, I saw a woman who seemed a few years older than the two women I encountered earlier. 

She could have been a poster child for the AARP.  Her scarf very stylishly swirled a pastel paisley between her neck and breasts; her pants and blouse were tailored but un-self-conscious.  She was navigating the streets on what looked like a French mixte of some sort:  I couldn’t see the brand, but I knew it wasn’t Peugeot, Motobecane, Gitane, Ficelle or any of the other Gallic marques I know.

Then, as I dismounted my bike in front of my place, I saw a woman riding an English three-speed down my street.  That itself was not as remarkable as that she was, apparently, older than the other women I saw by at least a decade.  What’s more, she looked as if she’d been living in the neighborhood all of her life.  If that is part of her story, she is probably Greek or Italian (She looked the part) and, most likely, the wife of a blue-collar or middle-class worker.

Time was (There’s that phrase again!), not so long ago, when a woman like her would not be on a bicycle.  Nor would her husband or any other member of her family old enough to drive.  For that matter, I would not have seen women like the others I mentioned.  

As I’ve mentioned in other posts, when I was in my late twenties and thirties, I could ride the whole length of Vernon Boulevard, near where I live now, cross the Pulaski Bridge and ride down Kent Avenue and further along the Brooklyn side of the East River and New York Bay without seeing another cyclist.  Back then, most of the neighborhoods were blue-collar or lower middle-class, except for some then-low-income areas of Williamsburg and Sunset Park.  The culture of those places was much like that of the neighborhoods in which I grew up:  You simply didn’t ride a bicycle if you were old enough to drive a car, whether or not you actually drove one.

 

Furthermore, those rare adult cyclists I encountered were all male.  Most were close to my age; occasionally, I’d pass one who were older than my parents.  Usually, such an older male cyclist was an immigrant who never gave up the habit, so to speak, after settling in the New World.  But I never saw a female cyclist unless I rode into a neighborhood like Brooklyn Heights or the Upper East Side or out of the city into a suburban enclave.  The few I saw weren’t commuting or running errands; perhaps they were riding for fitness, but most likely, just to decompress.  

It was rarer yet to see “older” women ride.  Of course, at that time, my elders were in their late thirties or older.  I recall two simply because they were so unusual:  One, who was probably in her forties and looked wore a Chanel suit and slingbacks while riding a women’s Colnago--to this day, the only one of those bikes I've ever seen.  The other rode with my bike club; she was about the same age I am now.  Even more interestingly, her husband didn’t ride.

I’m her now, minus the husband.  That is to say, I’m an “older” woman, at least in the way I used to define it.  Although I like it, I often wish I could have begun my gender transition at an earlier age so I could have lived more of my life as a woman.  Then again, given the conditions of the time, would I have grown up to be that woman I so admired on our club rides?  Or the one I saw on the Colnago?  Or one of those women “of a certain age” I used to see riding to marketplaces, to parks, to stores and offices—sometimes to their jobs—when I was living in Europe?

A Religious Edict To Exterminate Us

Once I almost got killed by a guy who turned purple with rage for daring to even suggest that Islam had anything in common with his religion.

The comparison?  That both recognize that there is a tension between the way of God (Allah) and the ways of the world or mankind.  I pointed out that jihad means, basically, "striving in the way of God".

Of course, someone like that man hears the word "jihad" and thinks a suicide bomber is right around the corner.  He would also denounce--rightly, I believe--a fatwa calling for the murder of somoene deemed an infidel. The difference, though, is that I would abhor the killing but he would hate the one who ordered it.

More accurately, he would be upset at the use of the word "fatwa", just he went ballistic over "jihad".  I wonder, though, how he feels about an American president's order to kill someone he deems an enemy of this country or a governor's order to execute someone deemed guilty of a particular crime.

I pondered this question after reading the resolution Denny Burk proposed to the Southern Baptist Convention.  Burk teaches Biblical Studies at Boyce College, the undergraduate division of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.  In many ways, it's just a long-winded version of the "love the sinner, hate the sin" argument you hear from those who use cherry-picked Bible verses (or merely their own religious ideas) to rationalize their homophobia and transphobia.  

But the last part of the resolution is what makes it as dangerous as any order to kill issued by an Ayatollah:

RESOLVED, That we oppose efforts to alter one’s bodily identity (e.g., cross-sex hormone therapy, gender reassignment surgery) to refashion it to conform with one’s perceived gender identity; and be it further

RESOLVED, That we continue to oppose steadfastly all efforts by any governing official or body to validate transgender identity as morally praiseworthy (Isaiah 5:20); and be it further

RESOLVED, That we oppose all cultural efforts to validate claims to transgender identity.

What, exactly, does it mean to oppose a claim of individual or group identity.  As best as I can tell, it means saying that they, in essence, don't exist or that they are lesser beings.  If someone thinks that someone else doesn't have the same right to exist, it makes it that much easier to deny him or her sustenance, education, employment, housing--or life itself.  That is what makes every kind of oppression possible, and that is how people are convinced to go out and murder people they've never before met and who have done them no harm--who have done nothing more, in fact, than to have been born in another country, in another skin color, in a different gender identity or with a different sexual orientation.  Or, for that matter, who merely worship in a different way or call attention to the missteps or corruption of the people who run institutions of worship.

Some might argue that it's no different from a fatwa.  I'd agree--at least, if you think, as most Americans do, that a fatwa is on order to kill semeone. (The first time most Americans heard the term was when the Ayatollah Khomeini issued one calling for the execution of Salman Rushdie, who wrote The Satanic Verses.)  But the real meaning of "fatwa" is simply a legal opinion or learned interpretation a mufti or qualified jurist can give on an issue pertaining to Islamic law.  They have been issued on some of the issues one might expect, such as smoking, drinking and nudity.  However, the right to issue a fatwa has been abused or resulted in some simply ridiculous pronouncements, such as this one.

But even with the most absurd pronouncements made by actual or self-proclaimed Islamic scholars, I think comparing the Professor Burk's  resolution to a fatwa gives Professor Burk's resolution more dignity than it deserves.  This self-professed man of God is more disingenuous and insidious in his hatred--and wish to exterminate trans people--than almost anyone who has issued a fatwa.

Safer Hitched, Even Safer When He's Gone

Hey, girls, I just found the secret!

To what?, you ask.

To not getting beat up--or becoming the victim of violent crime in general.

Here it is:  Get married.

At least, that's what W. Bradford Wilcox and Robin Fretwell would have us believe.

Who are they, and how did they reach such a conclusion?

Well, he's a Professor of Sociology at the University of Virginia. Also, he directs the Home Economics Project of the American Enterprise Institute and the Institute for Family Studies.  Fretwell is the Joplin Law Professor and Director of the program in family law and policy at the University of Illinois.

Oh, but it gets better. Professor Wilcox played a key role in the infamous Regenerus study, which claims that gay parents ruin kids.  Fretwell signed a letter to Arizona Governor Jan Brewer saying that critics of the bill allowing business owners to discriminate based on their religious beliefs have it all wrong.

They claim that a 1994 Department of Justice study they cite shows that never-married women are four times as likely as married women to be victims of violent crime.

After making such a sensational claim, they concede, two paragraphs later that women in healthy, stable relationships are more likely to "opt into" marriage, while those in unhealthy, unstable relationships often lack the power--or the wish--to demand marriage.  You can drive a few large vehicles through that hole.  And it's not the only one in their argument.

The DoJ study also shows that 20-to-24 year old women--who are younger than today's average age for marriage--are most likely to be victims of rape, other violent assaults or robbery.  Also, it shows that women with lower incomes are more likely to be victimized, and widows least likely to experience violent crime.

Hmm...So, we should get married ASAP and never, ever leave.  But when our husbands die, we'll be really safe.

That's science?

At Least They Didn't Misgender Him

Two weeks from Sunday, on 22 June, Cameron Partridge will give the sermon in the Washington National Cathedral.  

Why does that matter?  Well, Rev. Partridge is the first transgender to be ordained in the Episcopal Church--and, to my knowledge, one of the first transgender clergy members of any denomination in the United States.

He completed his transition in 2001.  Still, a commenter to the article I linked said that Rev. Partridge "should be happy with what God gave him."  I don't know whether to be appalled or amused: That comment is usually reserved for folks like me, i.e., male to female transgenders.

Perhaps I should do the Christian thing and give that commenter--who goes by the name "ohmama" credit for not misgendering Rev. Partridge.   

What Did They See In Him?

Normally, I don't pay attention to stories or rumors about the love lives of celebrities.  You see, I really don't care who is sleeping with whom, unless I am--or plan on--sleeping with one or the other.

But this story is just too rich:  Jennifer Lopez's relationship with Casper Smart has ended.  I can't say I'm surprised:  I mean, he's cute and all, but nothing special, as far as I can tell.  She can have any man she wants (or, for that matter, any number of women), but I simply couldn't see what she saw in him.

Here's the fun part:  Supposedly, he was dating transgender model Xristina Marie while in his relationship with Ms. Lopez.  No sooner did he deny it than another trans woman,  Sofia Vissa, claimed to have had a relationship with him at the same time.

I can't help but to ask what Xristina or Sofia saw in him.  I mean, I can think of almost no one I'd prefer not to be with than a tranny-chaser.

The Effects of Bullying on LGBT Youth

This, from Telerik Kendo:

They Don't Violate Only The Ninth Commandment

Funny, how "religious" leaders decide that it's perfectly OK to commit one sin ostensibly to fight another.

I'm thinking now of Kendall Baker, a Texas pastor who warned that children will be victimized by "trans predators" if Houston passes a bill that gives equal rights to trans people.

Hmm...A pastor violating the Ninth Commandment:  Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

Had it not been for an experience of mine, my reaction to this story would be "What, this shit again?"  But because of a particularly ugly incident in my life, that news turns my stomach.

You see, that "trans predator" trope has been used to rationalize all manner of bigotry, harassment and outright violence against us. I know:  It happened to me.

I take that back. It didn't happen to me.  Someone did it to me.  If you've been reading this blog, you know who that somene is. Yes, Dominick.

After I ended my relationship with him, one of the ways he retaliated was to start rumors that I was preying upon my students.  He not only told people I did that, he also sent e-mails and made "anonymous" complaints to my employer.   

Worst of all, he tried to claim that I "accosted" him and that he spent five years in a relationship with me only because he was "afraid" of what I would do.

Hmm...That "trans panic" claim all over again.  That's particularly interesting coming from someone who claims he's victimized in all sorts of ways because he's gay.  (Right up to the time I had my surgery, he hoped that I would change my mind and live as the gay man he believed I was.)  Plus, if he was so afraid of me, why did he not only spend as long as he did with me, but also threaten me when I left him and wouldn't go back to him.

Oh, wait, I answered my own question:  He acted as he did because he was afraid.  People who lie and start vicious rumors about others are always so. Sometimes they're just pure and simple cowards.  Other times, they're guilty of the very thing they impute to others.

In Pastor Baker's case...You guessed it...He's preyed on women at his day job with the city's 311 call center.  

I'd call him--and, for that matter, Dominick--a chickenshit, except that I have too much respect for chickens.

Oh, here's another irony:  When Dominick was trying to win me back, he'd make some sort of appeal to me before making another threat.  Once, his grandmother was dying. Another time he claimed to have cancer.  And--you've probably guessed this one--he "got religion" and was praying for me.

And, no doubt, he was telling people I preyed on somebody.  After all, that's what we do, right?

The Last One?

The past year or so has been pretty strange.  Not bad, just unnerving.  Or I just don’t know what to make of it, or perhaps I’m not accepting something.

Of course I am still sad about John’s death.  Yesterday the mail carrier brought one of those “In Memoriam” cards with his photo and an inscription:  his birthdate, date of death, “Beloved husband of Mildred, father of Stefanie and Lisa, grandfather of Melanie and Steven.” And friend to me, to Joanne, to many other people.

I’m realizing that he’s probably the last male friend I’ve made in my life.  I can call him that because I never thought of him as someone I knew just because he was Mildred’s husband; he is one of the few men with whom I’ve felt comfortable.  In some ways, it seems improbable:  On the surface, we didn’t have that much in common.  But he, like Millie, knew the kinds of things about people and life that you don’t learn in classrooms, in seminars or seminaries, or in any place where people try to explain life in terms of theories or categories.  That, I believe, is the reason why they met me near the end of my life as Nick and became even better friends as I changed my clothes, my name, some of my surroundings, the way I think and, finally, my body.

I’m realizing that he may have been the last male friend I had.  Perhaps it was inevitable that, one day, I wouldn’t have any more male friends, if for no other reason that I never had very many.  Over the past year, I’ve met some men who have been nice, even kind, to me and didn’t seek anything in return.  Some belong to, or at least attend, the church that’s become part of my life.  At least two or three seem like they genuinely want to be friendly with me outside the eglesial walls, perhaps one of them might want to be in a more intimate relationship with me.  But I’m not ready for that, for him, for them.  To tell you the truth, I don’t want to be.  If anything, if I’m going to have such a relationship, I’d be more interested in having it with another woman, but even the prospect of that doesn’t interest, much less excite, me. 

For that matter, I don’t even feel ready to make new friends.  Actually, that’s not quite right:  I’m not ready to call anybody I’ve met within the past year, two years, a friend.  Perhaps it’s a matter of my age:  At this point in my life, I don’t think I can make instantaneous or even quick friendships. Perhaps it’s generational:  I didn’t grow up with the notion that someone I met only on some social medium is a friend.  (What can I say to someone who says he has 789 Facebook friends?)  It’s hard to think of anyone I’ve known less than ten—or, maybe, five—as a friend.

Someone might say I haven’t quite recovered from what Dominick or other men in my life have done to me.  They’re probably right.  Maybe I’m not ready to recover, whatever that means.  Maybe I can’t, or shouldn’t.  And, perhaps, it might keep me from thinking of myself as having made a new friend, especially with a man.