Not many people, it seems, are happy that Casey Anthony was acquitted of murdering her daughter. I am not quite happy about it, either. Well, to be precise, I'm not happy that a little girl died and the truth about her death may never be known. However, I am one of an apparently small minority who believes the jurors did the right thing in not charging Casey Anthony with the murder of her daughter Caylee.
One juror has said, in essence, that if you are going to sentence someone to die, you had better be certain that person is guilty of the crime for which you're condemning him or her. This, I think, is especially true in Florida, where the trial took place: Since capital punishment was reinstated in 1976, Texas, Oklahoma and Virginia are the only US states to have executed more prisoners than Florida. This juror admitted that no one thought Casey Anthony was any sort of model citizen or mother: I don't know very many people who'd want their daughters to grow up to be like her. And I certainly don't, in any way, regard her as a role model for myself.
However, being an unsavory character and generally difficult to like (I have little trouble believing the prosecution's depiction of her as "shallow" and "egotistical.") doesn't, in itself, constitute guilt. Only evidence can, or at least should, do that, especially under the system of law that, thankfully, we still have in spite of some prosecutors', judges' and politicians' efforts to destroy it. While I'm willing to concede that the evidence might indicate that Ms. Anthony was a terrible mother and a not terribly responsible human being, that alone does not mean she is a child-killer, although my "gut" feeling is that if she didn't drown or suffocate or in some other way kill Caylee, she was probably responsible for her death through neglect, if nothing else.
Cops make arrests based on "gut" feelings all the time. Sometime those instincts turn out to be accurate. Whether they're right or wrong, though, juries aren't supposed to determine guilt or innocence based on them. Instead, jurors are supposed to make such decisions based on evidence. And, as the juror who was interviewed said, the evidence was inconclusive.
I think that LGBT people, and transgenders in particular, should be thankful for this decision and the system that allowed it. Too often, we are seen as guilty for one thing or another--usually some sexual offense--because of the images people have of us. What's even worse is that many of us have not done anything to merit the stereotyping and suspicion to which we are subjected. And, worse yet, there are some people who are willing to paint or simply use unflattering portraits of us--whether or not they're based on our behavior or characters--in their attempts to destroy us. I know: It's happened to me. All it takes is for one student who didn't like his or her grade, one person to whom one of us says "no," or one person who experiences any other kind of unfortunate and unexplainable event, and one of us can find him or herself fired from a job, evicted from our homes or even arrested or killed simply by painting unsavory pictures of us that others are all too willing to believe.
It doesn't matter that I don't drink or smoke, almost never party and have always been monogamous. It only takes one angry, vindictive person to use the stereotypes about trans people to "try" and "convict" me with people who have as much power over my life as those jurors and the judge had over the fate of Casey Anthony.
05 July 2011
On Trans Men, Cis Women And The Passage Of Time
So...Today I'm another year older. And the day after tomorrow, two years will have passed since my surgery.
I was reminded of the latter by two things. One was an e-mail from Danny, a trans man on whom Marci performed bottom surgery a during the same week she did my GRS. He and his wife--I call her that because he refers to her that way, and I won't dispute it--have been hiking and camping. As they live in Alaska, I'm not surprised.
When we were recovering from our surgeries at The Morning After House, I half-jokingly made him promise me that he would call me if he ever split with his wife. Of course, I could make a joke like that precisely because I knew he would do no such thing--split with his wife, I mean.
I can honestly say that I haven't met a trans man I didn't like. (Would Will Rogers have said that if he were a trans woman?) I'm not talking only about liking them sexually or in a fantasy, although I've felt that way about a few I've met. I mean that I have never seen another group of people in which such a large percentage of its members is self-accepting, and accepting of others. It's no coincidence that Ray, my social worker during the first two years of my transition, is a trans man.
Also, here's an interesting paradox in my perceptions of Ray and Danny, as well as some other trans men I've met: While I cannot imagine them with a feminine physical appearance, I have little trouble imagining them having been females. It may just have to do with their sensitivity and empathy. I am not saying that they are exclusively female traits, but most of the cisgender people who've understood me in any way were female.
One cis woman who showed me more understanding than I expected is the other person responsible for making me conscious of the passage of time since my surgery. She is Joanne, a friend and neighbor of mine and Millie's when we were all living within a couple of houses of each other. About three and a half years ago, Joanne moved to Florida to be nearer to family members who have since died. As she never liked Florida (She was near Fort Lauderdale.) , she had no reason to stay, so she returned about three weeks ago. Yesterday, at Millie's and John's barbecue, I saw her for the first time since she moved--and since my surgery. So, of course, one of the first things she asked was how that went.
Joanne and Millie both met me during my last days of living (part-time) as Nick. When I first moved onto the block on which we all lived, I had just split with Tammy but had not yet "come out" to any of my family or friends. It would be nearly a year before I would change my name, and a few more months before I would report to my job as Justine.
The funny thing was that I hadn't thought about any of that yesterday until Joanne and I started to talk. Not that I minded talking about it: After all, she'd heard about it, and had been a good friend until she left for Florida.
Sometimes I think that if relationships do nothing else, they help to shape our perceptions of time.
I was reminded of the latter by two things. One was an e-mail from Danny, a trans man on whom Marci performed bottom surgery a during the same week she did my GRS. He and his wife--I call her that because he refers to her that way, and I won't dispute it--have been hiking and camping. As they live in Alaska, I'm not surprised.
When we were recovering from our surgeries at The Morning After House, I half-jokingly made him promise me that he would call me if he ever split with his wife. Of course, I could make a joke like that precisely because I knew he would do no such thing--split with his wife, I mean.
I can honestly say that I haven't met a trans man I didn't like. (Would Will Rogers have said that if he were a trans woman?) I'm not talking only about liking them sexually or in a fantasy, although I've felt that way about a few I've met. I mean that I have never seen another group of people in which such a large percentage of its members is self-accepting, and accepting of others. It's no coincidence that Ray, my social worker during the first two years of my transition, is a trans man.
Also, here's an interesting paradox in my perceptions of Ray and Danny, as well as some other trans men I've met: While I cannot imagine them with a feminine physical appearance, I have little trouble imagining them having been females. It may just have to do with their sensitivity and empathy. I am not saying that they are exclusively female traits, but most of the cisgender people who've understood me in any way were female.
One cis woman who showed me more understanding than I expected is the other person responsible for making me conscious of the passage of time since my surgery. She is Joanne, a friend and neighbor of mine and Millie's when we were all living within a couple of houses of each other. About three and a half years ago, Joanne moved to Florida to be nearer to family members who have since died. As she never liked Florida (She was near Fort Lauderdale.) , she had no reason to stay, so she returned about three weeks ago. Yesterday, at Millie's and John's barbecue, I saw her for the first time since she moved--and since my surgery. So, of course, one of the first things she asked was how that went.
Joanne and Millie both met me during my last days of living (part-time) as Nick. When I first moved onto the block on which we all lived, I had just split with Tammy but had not yet "come out" to any of my family or friends. It would be nearly a year before I would change my name, and a few more months before I would report to my job as Justine.
The funny thing was that I hadn't thought about any of that yesterday until Joanne and I started to talk. Not that I minded talking about it: After all, she'd heard about it, and had been a good friend until she left for Florida.
Sometimes I think that if relationships do nothing else, they help to shape our perceptions of time.
04 July 2011
What Does It All Mean?
Over the past couple of days, Joanne Priznivalli, on her blog, has written excellent essays (and here) on the real meaning of New York's same-sex marriage laws. I was particularly struck by one point Ms. Priznivalli, who is an attorney, made: that the law doesn't merely allow same-sex marriage; instead, it makes marriage gender-neutral.
Why is this an important distinction to make? Well, as I understand it, the law doesn't merely "give" gays the "privilege" of marriage. Instead, it says that any two people of the legal age and sound mind can join, for whatever purpose. What the law really is, if I'm reading Priznivalli in the way she intends to be understood, is an acknowledgment that marriage as a legal institution is not merely about reproduction and continuing the species. Rather, it's about allowing two people to make the sort of commitment that allows them to be each other's guardians (as, for example, when one of them is lying in a hospital bed and unable to make decisions on his or her own behalf) and to pass on property in the ways each of them sees fit.
I am not, and will probably never be, a lawyer. However, I can say with confidence that, as a result of my reading and study, I know a bit more history than the average person. And I know enough history to realize that marriage, as we know it, is actually a fairly recent invention among human institutions.
Because the Church and State were inseparable in most European societies at least until the Enlightenment, the institution of marriage was codified in a way that not only specified who could be married to whom, and who could inherit what, but also ensured the propagation of the human race. At a time when people married in their early teen years, had ten kids--of whom four or five might survive into adulthood--and died not long after turning thirty, concerns about the survival of the human race, particularly in the face of such phenomena as the plague, made sense. Also, because most of Europe's population shared the same faith (as most of the world's societies were mono-religious), the Church had an interest in seeing the population increase.
Today, almost nobody thinks that the human race is in danger of dying out--unless, of course, we do something stupid, like start a real World War. If anything, most people would agree that we should slow the growth of, or cut down, the population. So there is no rationale for allowing only the sort of unions that will help to increase the number of people in the world.
Likewise, the fact that women have claimed our natural rights in much of the world invalidates at least some of the premises behind marriage, as it has been structured. As Priznivalli and others point out, so-called traditional marriages are based, to some degree or another, on misogyny. And, really, how can anyone rationalize that when conservatives--whether of the religious variety in Pakistan or the economic type in Britain and Germany--have elected women to lead their countries? I'd love to see how the same folks who support those women will tell their families, congregations, schools and other communities that women should submit to men. Will Michelle Bachmann--if, Goddess forbid, she is elected--defer to the wishes of her husband when she makes decisions about national security?
Whatever happens, I don't imagine that the nature of sexual relations within those, or any other, marriages will change. I suspect that very few couples today have sexual relations solely for the purpose of reproducing. (Maybe that has been the case for most couples throughout history.) And, as Priznivalli points out, many older couples stop having sex altogether but remain committed to each other. So, really, the rationale of enshrining a particular kind of sexual relationship in marriage never had any rational or moral basis. And that is the very reason why, contrary to the fear-mongering of so-called traditionalists, marriages based on those kinds of relationships will not be undermined by allowing people to marry whomever they want, regardless of gender.
Why is this an important distinction to make? Well, as I understand it, the law doesn't merely "give" gays the "privilege" of marriage. Instead, it says that any two people of the legal age and sound mind can join, for whatever purpose. What the law really is, if I'm reading Priznivalli in the way she intends to be understood, is an acknowledgment that marriage as a legal institution is not merely about reproduction and continuing the species. Rather, it's about allowing two people to make the sort of commitment that allows them to be each other's guardians (as, for example, when one of them is lying in a hospital bed and unable to make decisions on his or her own behalf) and to pass on property in the ways each of them sees fit.
I am not, and will probably never be, a lawyer. However, I can say with confidence that, as a result of my reading and study, I know a bit more history than the average person. And I know enough history to realize that marriage, as we know it, is actually a fairly recent invention among human institutions.
Because the Church and State were inseparable in most European societies at least until the Enlightenment, the institution of marriage was codified in a way that not only specified who could be married to whom, and who could inherit what, but also ensured the propagation of the human race. At a time when people married in their early teen years, had ten kids--of whom four or five might survive into adulthood--and died not long after turning thirty, concerns about the survival of the human race, particularly in the face of such phenomena as the plague, made sense. Also, because most of Europe's population shared the same faith (as most of the world's societies were mono-religious), the Church had an interest in seeing the population increase.
Today, almost nobody thinks that the human race is in danger of dying out--unless, of course, we do something stupid, like start a real World War. If anything, most people would agree that we should slow the growth of, or cut down, the population. So there is no rationale for allowing only the sort of unions that will help to increase the number of people in the world.
Likewise, the fact that women have claimed our natural rights in much of the world invalidates at least some of the premises behind marriage, as it has been structured. As Priznivalli and others point out, so-called traditional marriages are based, to some degree or another, on misogyny. And, really, how can anyone rationalize that when conservatives--whether of the religious variety in Pakistan or the economic type in Britain and Germany--have elected women to lead their countries? I'd love to see how the same folks who support those women will tell their families, congregations, schools and other communities that women should submit to men. Will Michelle Bachmann--if, Goddess forbid, she is elected--defer to the wishes of her husband when she makes decisions about national security?
Whatever happens, I don't imagine that the nature of sexual relations within those, or any other, marriages will change. I suspect that very few couples today have sexual relations solely for the purpose of reproducing. (Maybe that has been the case for most couples throughout history.) And, as Priznivalli points out, many older couples stop having sex altogether but remain committed to each other. So, really, the rationale of enshrining a particular kind of sexual relationship in marriage never had any rational or moral basis. And that is the very reason why, contrary to the fear-mongering of so-called traditionalists, marriages based on those kinds of relationships will not be undermined by allowing people to marry whomever they want, regardless of gender.
03 July 2011
Understanding Our Stories
So..Tomorrow is this country's most sacred, if you will, holiday. Actually, I don't it's so odd to call Independence Day "sacred" because, as George Monbiot has written, America is a religion.
Today's news reports were filled with the shocking statistic that more than forty percent of US citizens polled couldn't answer "1776" to the question of when this country gained its independence. And another large number, I forget exactly what, couldn't name the country from which this one gained its independence.
Even though "1776" and "England" are both parts of recorded history, they are parts of a canon and mythology. No religion has ever existed, much less been propagated without those two vital elements. That is because no religion has ever been sustained without belief, and mere facts are not sufficient for that.
Although a myth is a fiction, if you will, it will never gain believers if it does not have at least an element of truth. That a group of men on this continent convened and declared the place in which they lived to be a sovereign nation, independent from the one from which their forebears or they themselves came, is indisputable. However, the idea that they created an "independent" country by breaking away from what was then the world's most powerful empire is, while a teriffic story, a not-quite-accurate description of the truth.
The fact of the matter is that this country was, at that point, thinly populated, save for Philadelphia and Boston: Most of the original inhabitants of this country had already been, by that time, wiped out. And the number of Anglos, and all Europeans, who settled here was still a fraction of the number of people in England, or any other European country. Plus, outside the two metropoli, this country was still mainly agricultural, while England was the most technologically advanced country, as well as the one with the strongest navy.
There is simply no way this country could have ceded from Britain independently. Were it not for the French, Dutch, Spanish, Polish and some volunteers and mercenaries from other places, this country might still be a crown colony. And, for decades after winning the War of Independence, a.k.a., the Revolution, this country was still dependent on those other countries. And more merchants and farmers, as well as other people, had economic as well as cultural and familial ties to England than is commonly acknowledged.
Another thing that, to my knowledge, is never mentioned in American History classes and textbooks--at least not the ones taught and written in the US by Americans--is that there were actually fifteen colonies. Thirteen rebelled. The other two, Nova Scotia and Quebec, really couldn't: The former was the North American base for the Royal Navy, while Montreal and Quebec City were, for all intents and purposes. garrisons of the Royal Army.
There is no denying that Americans have accomplished much, and that this country has made a number of positive contributions to this world. However, Americans, for all of their initiative and willingness to work hard and take risks, never accomplished those things alone. Of course, we cannot forget that the people who made those contributions came from some place else, or descended from people who did.
I find myself thinking about myths and beliefs after the passage of same-sex marriage legislation. Much of the opposition to it here and elsewhere has to do with a belief in a mythology--about relationships and families, as well as the nature of this country. Religions die when the mythology can't be reconciled with changing realities. Although I grew up Catholic (Hey, I was an altar boy!), I haven't considered myself a Christian in a very long time. However, I will say that is one thing Christianity had done better than most other religions. That is not to say, of course, that other change isn't necessary, and that people won't continue to oppose such change. The same might be said for Judaism. And, whenever change becomes inevitable, there are those who will oppose it, sometimes violently. That is why fundamentalist movements, like the ones we see today in Christianity and Islam, are really--if unwittingly--an acknowledgement that the myth has met a new reality,and change is inevitable.
The notion that a family consists of one man, one woman, and fill-in-the-blank-number of kids is one that came about at a time when people started having kids at thirteen or fourteen and didn't live to be much past thirty, and when most of those people had to grow, slaughter, sew and build whatever they used. That reality no longer exists, at least in industrialized countries. Longer lives and specialized labor gives people the time and means to understand that there are indeed alternatives to, or at least variations on, the stories they've been told about family structure, gender roles and other things. Thankfully, more people are coming to understand this.
Today's news reports were filled with the shocking statistic that more than forty percent of US citizens polled couldn't answer "1776" to the question of when this country gained its independence. And another large number, I forget exactly what, couldn't name the country from which this one gained its independence.
Even though "1776" and "England" are both parts of recorded history, they are parts of a canon and mythology. No religion has ever existed, much less been propagated without those two vital elements. That is because no religion has ever been sustained without belief, and mere facts are not sufficient for that.
Although a myth is a fiction, if you will, it will never gain believers if it does not have at least an element of truth. That a group of men on this continent convened and declared the place in which they lived to be a sovereign nation, independent from the one from which their forebears or they themselves came, is indisputable. However, the idea that they created an "independent" country by breaking away from what was then the world's most powerful empire is, while a teriffic story, a not-quite-accurate description of the truth.
The fact of the matter is that this country was, at that point, thinly populated, save for Philadelphia and Boston: Most of the original inhabitants of this country had already been, by that time, wiped out. And the number of Anglos, and all Europeans, who settled here was still a fraction of the number of people in England, or any other European country. Plus, outside the two metropoli, this country was still mainly agricultural, while England was the most technologically advanced country, as well as the one with the strongest navy.
There is simply no way this country could have ceded from Britain independently. Were it not for the French, Dutch, Spanish, Polish and some volunteers and mercenaries from other places, this country might still be a crown colony. And, for decades after winning the War of Independence, a.k.a., the Revolution, this country was still dependent on those other countries. And more merchants and farmers, as well as other people, had economic as well as cultural and familial ties to England than is commonly acknowledged.
Another thing that, to my knowledge, is never mentioned in American History classes and textbooks--at least not the ones taught and written in the US by Americans--is that there were actually fifteen colonies. Thirteen rebelled. The other two, Nova Scotia and Quebec, really couldn't: The former was the North American base for the Royal Navy, while Montreal and Quebec City were, for all intents and purposes. garrisons of the Royal Army.
There is no denying that Americans have accomplished much, and that this country has made a number of positive contributions to this world. However, Americans, for all of their initiative and willingness to work hard and take risks, never accomplished those things alone. Of course, we cannot forget that the people who made those contributions came from some place else, or descended from people who did.
I find myself thinking about myths and beliefs after the passage of same-sex marriage legislation. Much of the opposition to it here and elsewhere has to do with a belief in a mythology--about relationships and families, as well as the nature of this country. Religions die when the mythology can't be reconciled with changing realities. Although I grew up Catholic (Hey, I was an altar boy!), I haven't considered myself a Christian in a very long time. However, I will say that is one thing Christianity had done better than most other religions. That is not to say, of course, that other change isn't necessary, and that people won't continue to oppose such change. The same might be said for Judaism. And, whenever change becomes inevitable, there are those who will oppose it, sometimes violently. That is why fundamentalist movements, like the ones we see today in Christianity and Islam, are really--if unwittingly--an acknowledgement that the myth has met a new reality,and change is inevitable.
The notion that a family consists of one man, one woman, and fill-in-the-blank-number of kids is one that came about at a time when people started having kids at thirteen or fourteen and didn't live to be much past thirty, and when most of those people had to grow, slaughter, sew and build whatever they used. That reality no longer exists, at least in industrialized countries. Longer lives and specialized labor gives people the time and means to understand that there are indeed alternatives to, or at least variations on, the stories they've been told about family structure, gender roles and other things. Thankfully, more people are coming to understand this.
02 July 2011
They Couldn't Make The Case
Today I'm going out on a limb to talk about something that I expect to generate controversy for years to come (as if I haven't done anything like that before!). I'm going to talk about the case of Dominique Strauss-Kahn, at least to the extent that I know about it.
Yesterday he was released from house arrest. Manhattan District Attorney Cyrus Vance Jr. felt he had no other choice; almost all of the evidence was circumstantial. Of course, some people are not happy about this. I imagine DSK, as he's often called in France, is one of them: He lost his chairmanship of the International Monetary Fund and, possibly, his chance to be elected President of France. Also, any number of feminists and the lawyer of the woman who accused DSK of sexually assaulting her are upset: Kenneth P. Thompson, the lawyer representing the woman, is imputing racism to Vance and anyone else who can't find a legal or moral reason to keep DSK in custody. (The woman is from Guinea and was the housekeeper in the hotel where DSK stayed.)
Now, of course, I can't tell you what actually happened between the housekeeper and DSK. However, I think the fact that the woman changed her story and made any number of false statements to get and stay in this country, and reap whatever benefits she could from being here, certainly makes her seem less credible. On the other hand, DSK does have a reputation for sexually aggressive behavior with women. Of course, as one famous jurist said, trying someone on the basis of his or her reputation does not lead to justice.
For me, DSK is certainly not a sympathetic figure. That does not, however, make him guilty--at least not by itself. His reputation might establish that he is capable of committing sexual assault, but it does not necessarily mean that he actually did the things of which he has been accused. By the same token, the fact that the woman was poor and a member of a race that experiences bigotry doesn't, by itself make her an innocent victim.
I mention these things because I want to make sure that the justice system does what it's supposed to do. In this country, that includes ensuring that innocent people aren't locked up.
Also, as someone who was sexually abused (by a friend of the family) and who was later sexually assaulted, I know how serious those crimes are. So, even though I want the perpetrators of such crimes brought to justice, I want to be sure that the persons arrested, tried and sentenced, are the guilty ones. If the wrong person is punished, it does not bring closure or relief, or anything else a victim should have. All it does is to ensure that there is yet another victim.
Yesterday he was released from house arrest. Manhattan District Attorney Cyrus Vance Jr. felt he had no other choice; almost all of the evidence was circumstantial. Of course, some people are not happy about this. I imagine DSK, as he's often called in France, is one of them: He lost his chairmanship of the International Monetary Fund and, possibly, his chance to be elected President of France. Also, any number of feminists and the lawyer of the woman who accused DSK of sexually assaulting her are upset: Kenneth P. Thompson, the lawyer representing the woman, is imputing racism to Vance and anyone else who can't find a legal or moral reason to keep DSK in custody. (The woman is from Guinea and was the housekeeper in the hotel where DSK stayed.)
Now, of course, I can't tell you what actually happened between the housekeeper and DSK. However, I think the fact that the woman changed her story and made any number of false statements to get and stay in this country, and reap whatever benefits she could from being here, certainly makes her seem less credible. On the other hand, DSK does have a reputation for sexually aggressive behavior with women. Of course, as one famous jurist said, trying someone on the basis of his or her reputation does not lead to justice.
For me, DSK is certainly not a sympathetic figure. That does not, however, make him guilty--at least not by itself. His reputation might establish that he is capable of committing sexual assault, but it does not necessarily mean that he actually did the things of which he has been accused. By the same token, the fact that the woman was poor and a member of a race that experiences bigotry doesn't, by itself make her an innocent victim.
I mention these things because I want to make sure that the justice system does what it's supposed to do. In this country, that includes ensuring that innocent people aren't locked up.
Also, as someone who was sexually abused (by a friend of the family) and who was later sexually assaulted, I know how serious those crimes are. So, even though I want the perpetrators of such crimes brought to justice, I want to be sure that the persons arrested, tried and sentenced, are the guilty ones. If the wrong person is punished, it does not bring closure or relief, or anything else a victim should have. All it does is to ensure that there is yet another victim.
01 July 2011
Moving Into The Revolution
Something is changing again, perhaps. Within or without me?
This is the time of year when such things happen. Only a week ago, Governor Cuomo signed the same-sex marriage legislation--a couple of days before the anniversary of Stonewall.
And I think of the things that are coming up. My official birthday is the 4th of this month (Yes, on "The Fourth"!); my own birthday--the one on which I gave birth to who I am now--is the 7th. And the 14th is the anniversary of my name change and my sobriety. (No, they didn't happen in the same year!)
There's just something about this time of year. I can understand why so many of the world's revolutions--including the American and French--have begun at this time of year.
It's very, very interesting (at least to me) that I seem to be making new friends now. And I decided, on a whim, to take a trip to someplace where I've never been before: Prague. I am also going to move ahead with my writing: I will devote more time to it, and to getting it published and reaping other benefits for me. Finally, I've decided, for once and for all, that I'm not going for a PhD, or any further schooling in any other academic area. No, I'm not going to school for law or social work, either. One thing I learned from my brief foray into PhD studies is that if I'm motivated to learn something, I don't need to be in school for it.
Well, at least I'm prepared in one way for whatever comes next: I know that I'm going in a direction for which my previous experiences have provided me very little preparation but, I hope, ample resources.
This is the time of year when such things happen. Only a week ago, Governor Cuomo signed the same-sex marriage legislation--a couple of days before the anniversary of Stonewall.
And I think of the things that are coming up. My official birthday is the 4th of this month (Yes, on "The Fourth"!); my own birthday--the one on which I gave birth to who I am now--is the 7th. And the 14th is the anniversary of my name change and my sobriety. (No, they didn't happen in the same year!)
There's just something about this time of year. I can understand why so many of the world's revolutions--including the American and French--have begun at this time of year.
It's very, very interesting (at least to me) that I seem to be making new friends now. And I decided, on a whim, to take a trip to someplace where I've never been before: Prague. I am also going to move ahead with my writing: I will devote more time to it, and to getting it published and reaping other benefits for me. Finally, I've decided, for once and for all, that I'm not going for a PhD, or any further schooling in any other academic area. No, I'm not going to school for law or social work, either. One thing I learned from my brief foray into PhD studies is that if I'm motivated to learn something, I don't need to be in school for it.
Well, at least I'm prepared in one way for whatever comes next: I know that I'm going in a direction for which my previous experiences have provided me very little preparation but, I hope, ample resources.
30 June 2011
Someone Who "Gets It"
Someone I see regularly--the UPS truck driver-- said, "How does it feel to have the right to be married?"
I said that I'm glad the law passed, though I'm not sure of how relevant it will be to me. He furrowed his brow. "Well, you're a woman. But..."
A while back, he claimed not to have known about my transsexual status until someone else revealed it to him. So I can understand his confusion about how, whom or whether I'd marry. So I tried to explain, in the proverbial 25 words or less, what New York State's new law means for me.
I told him that, for the purposes of employment, housing and just about everything else, the State (but not the Federal) government identified me as a woman as soon as they received notification from my doctor and therapist that I had a disorder, was living as a woman and was taking hormones in preparation for my gender reassignment surgery. However, I could not marry a man, although I could've married another woman if she and I chose to do so.
Once I had my surgery, the State and Federal governments recognized me as a woman. That meant I could marry a man, but not another woman, at least all but those states that had same-sex marriage and those that did not recognize sex changes. As an example of the latter, in Idaho, I could marry a woman because I am still considered a man in that state. In contrast, in New York, before the law was passed, I could have married a man but not a woman, while in neighboring Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont, I could have married anyone.
The man seemed, not so much by the complexity, but by what he described as the "silliness" of it. "God made us all equal. Why shouldn't you, or anyone else, marry who you want or whoever wants you?"
Well, I didn't get it all into 25 words. But he understands. And he's sympathetic, or at least expressing respect for a person's rights. When one person "gets it," that's enough to make my day.
I said that I'm glad the law passed, though I'm not sure of how relevant it will be to me. He furrowed his brow. "Well, you're a woman. But..."
A while back, he claimed not to have known about my transsexual status until someone else revealed it to him. So I can understand his confusion about how, whom or whether I'd marry. So I tried to explain, in the proverbial 25 words or less, what New York State's new law means for me.
I told him that, for the purposes of employment, housing and just about everything else, the State (but not the Federal) government identified me as a woman as soon as they received notification from my doctor and therapist that I had a disorder, was living as a woman and was taking hormones in preparation for my gender reassignment surgery. However, I could not marry a man, although I could've married another woman if she and I chose to do so.
Once I had my surgery, the State and Federal governments recognized me as a woman. That meant I could marry a man, but not another woman, at least all but those states that had same-sex marriage and those that did not recognize sex changes. As an example of the latter, in Idaho, I could marry a woman because I am still considered a man in that state. In contrast, in New York, before the law was passed, I could have married a man but not a woman, while in neighboring Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont, I could have married anyone.
The man seemed, not so much by the complexity, but by what he described as the "silliness" of it. "God made us all equal. Why shouldn't you, or anyone else, marry who you want or whoever wants you?"
Well, I didn't get it all into 25 words. But he understands. And he's sympathetic, or at least expressing respect for a person's rights. When one person "gets it," that's enough to make my day.
28 June 2011
After Marriage: What Next?
Now that same-sex marriage has been legalized in New York, the question is the same as it always is after a significant goal or milestone has been reached: What next?
For some, of course, the answer is that they're planning and waiting for the 24th of July, when the law actually takes effect and marriage licenses can be issued. For others (or, actually, some of the same people), the answer involves campaigning for similar laws in other states and jurisdictions. And, of course, there are some who are working to have the law overturned.
Ironically, the provision that allows churches to refuse to marry same-sex couples, and religious organizations to deny benefits to same-sex spouses of employees, is exactly what will make the law more difficult to repeal than the one that was overturned by Proposition 8 in California. I mean, the fact that there is an opt-out provision for churches and other religious organizations makes it that much harder (or so I would think, anyway) to make an argument against the law on the basis of religion or civil rights. If I recall correctly, those were the grounds on which opponents of California's gay marriage law fought to have it overturned.
Anyway...lots of people see this time, not without justification, as a "new day." However, this transsexual Italian-Franco-American yenta (Is that an oxymoron?) has some advice for them: Let yourself adjust to the new reality. It can be more joyous and more frustrating, more empowering and more confusing, than what you're leaving behind. I know this from my own experience: When you've wanted something for as long as you can remember, and despaired of ever getting it, much of your world-view is defined by longing, if not resentments of those who, fairly or not, have whatever it is that you want.
So, hook up, join yourselves, start your new lives--and move forward!
For some, of course, the answer is that they're planning and waiting for the 24th of July, when the law actually takes effect and marriage licenses can be issued. For others (or, actually, some of the same people), the answer involves campaigning for similar laws in other states and jurisdictions. And, of course, there are some who are working to have the law overturned.
Ironically, the provision that allows churches to refuse to marry same-sex couples, and religious organizations to deny benefits to same-sex spouses of employees, is exactly what will make the law more difficult to repeal than the one that was overturned by Proposition 8 in California. I mean, the fact that there is an opt-out provision for churches and other religious organizations makes it that much harder (or so I would think, anyway) to make an argument against the law on the basis of religion or civil rights. If I recall correctly, those were the grounds on which opponents of California's gay marriage law fought to have it overturned.
Anyway...lots of people see this time, not without justification, as a "new day." However, this transsexual Italian-Franco-American yenta (Is that an oxymoron?) has some advice for them: Let yourself adjust to the new reality. It can be more joyous and more frustrating, more empowering and more confusing, than what you're leaving behind. I know this from my own experience: When you've wanted something for as long as you can remember, and despaired of ever getting it, much of your world-view is defined by longing, if not resentments of those who, fairly or not, have whatever it is that you want.
So, hook up, join yourselves, start your new lives--and move forward!
26 June 2011
Showing Our Colors
I tried to get a shot of the Empire State Building lit up in "rainbow" colors for Pride. Alas, I wasn't able to do much better than this:
I snapped this photo from the McGuinness Boulevard Bridge, which connects Greenpoint, Brooklyn with Long Island City (near PS 1) in Queens. Really, it seemed every color was on display, literally and metaphorically, today.
I snapped this photo from the McGuinness Boulevard Bridge, which connects Greenpoint, Brooklyn with Long Island City (near PS 1) in Queens. Really, it seemed every color was on display, literally and metaphorically, today.
25 June 2011
Ride, Interrupted
Have you ever had your ride interrupted--or detoured--by some chance event?
"Enjoy your ride. And be safe!"
I'm not talking about bike breakdowns, injuries or other emergencies. Rather, I'm thinking about more serendipitous--or at least pleasant--happenings.
Today I stopped at Parisi's Bakery as I embarked on my ride. I'd bought a couple of sfogliatelle, figuring that I could eat one as a snack during my ride or save them for later. I also figured that by the time I got back from wherever I rode, they might be closed or not have much left.
As I exited the bakery (Yes, they let me bring my bike in!), I looked to my left and saw a rainbow flag flying. Seeing a rainbow flag wasn't itself so unusual, especially on the day after same-sex marriages were legalized in New York. However, the flag I saw seemed especially prominent and conspicuous, especially given that it's on a rather drab block:
I couldn't get a better photo of the house because it's on a street underneath elevated train tracks. That means, among other things, that traffic is usually fairly congested on that street because the posts of the train trestles take up a lot of space on that street.
I've cycled or walked that street only a few times, even though I've been living in the neighborhood for more than eight years and I don't know how many times I've boarded that train. Living in New York is funny that way: Lots of people have lived even longer in one neighborhood, even in one apartment or house, than I've lived here. Yet they, too, haven't walked, and may never walk, down some streets near them.
Perhaps I can rationalize not cycling or walking that street because it's not along any route I normally take for work or pleasure, and, as I've mentioned, it's not a particularly attractive street. But today I decided to take a look at that house:
I'd never seen the "Religion ruled during the Dark Ages" and "Atheism is myth understood" stickers anywhere else. The others, I'd seen in one version or another. How many people would line their houses with bumper stickers of any sort, much less ones that so proclaimed their beliefs?
As I snapped those photos, the owner poked her head out of a window. "Whose side are you on?" I could just barely hear her over the clatter of an approaching train.
I pointed to the train. She held out her hand. I waited; just after the train passed, she opened her door and poked her head out.
"You look like a friend," she said.
"Perhaps."
"Bring your bike in."
We sipped iced tea while we waited for a friend to meet her for a night out. I'd had the impression that she was either a hippie or a dancer. Turns out, she was both. "Now I'm just a senior citizen with a tenant from hell. But I need her if I'm going to keep this house."
"That's too bad..."
"What's the use of complaining?"
Then we had one of those conversations that veered into more topics than it seemed possible to discuss in a short time. Not surprisingly, we talked about gay marriage, Stonewall (She wasn't there, but friends of hers were) and about the prejudices and hate some of us still experience. "I've known people who were beaten up, fired, kicked out of apartments for being gay."
"People have been killed for it," I reminded her.
"My brother was."
I clasped her hand. "I'm so sorry..."
"Thank you. It was a long time ago, but it never leaves you."
"Well, I can understand. There's no shame in that."
hand. "I'm so sorry..."
"My brother is Julio Rivera."
"The one who was killed in Jackson Heights twenty years ago?"
She nodded. I remember his killing, in part, because of things that were going on in my life at that time. But it was also one of the events that led to the passage of "hate crime" legislation in New York. It seemed that around that time, there were a number of crimes committed out of one kind of bigotry or another. As an example, less than a year before Rivera's murder, Yusef Hawkins was beaten to death by a group of white teenagers when he went to look at a used car in Brooklyn.
She reminisced about Julio and showed me some photos of him and other members of her family. Then her friend arrived. We exchanged phone numbers and I left.
"Enjoy your ride. And be safe!"
24 June 2011
Same-Sex Marriage in New York: Where Next?
Tonight, the New York State Senate voted, by a 33 to 29 margin, to legalize same-sex marriages. Two upstate Republicans, who had been undecided, cast votes in favor of the bill that allows for same-sex unions, and broke the deadlock in the Senate. The State Assembly voted, by a wider margin, in favor of the bill last week.
About an hour after the vote, Governor Andrew Cuomo singned the bill into law. Now New York State joins neighboring Massachusetts, Connecticut and Vermont, as well as New Hampshire, Iowa and the District of Columbia, in legalizing same-sex unions.
The Coquille nation, whose members live mainly along the Oregon Coast, also have legalized same-sex marriage. They did so two years ago, and there was no mention of it in the mainstream press. In one sense, it's not difficult to understand why: In the 2000 Census, exactly 576 people identified themselves as Coquille.
What is interesting (and disturbing to some) is that New York is the sixth state to legalize same-sex unions. How, exactly, did those other states--including Iowa!--beat New York to legalizing same-sex unions?
Well, I don't have a complete answer to that. And I can only venture any sort of answer at all. But I can venture a guess.
One peculiarity of New York City and State politics is the degree to which the Roman Catholic church has influence. When Cardinal O'Connor headed the Archdiocese of New York, no one was elected as Mayor or Governor without his approval and endorsement. Archbishop Timothy Dolan may not yet have anything like O'Connor's influence. Then again, he's been in the position for less than a year. Still, one cannot deny the influence he and the Church have, even at this early stage of his stewardship.
Now, it's true that there are many Catholics in Massachusetts, particularly in the Boston area. But even when the Irish were the main ethnic group in Boston, the clerical hierarchy of the local Archdiocese never seemed to gain the sort of power and influence that they did in New York. If what I've just said is correct, it would be interesting to find out how and why that happened.
Now, I've never been to Iowa. But I have been to all of the other states (and DC) that have legalized same-sex marriage. Granted, Connecticut and Vermont are the only ones (besides Massachusettes and, of course, New York) in which I've spent extended periods of time. However, I think I've learned enough to form some impressions of each one.
It seems to me that no particular church or religious organization has the sort of influence over those states that the Archdiocese has over New York. That may be due to the fact that New York has always had such a large immigrant population and that so many of those immigrants were Catholic. In fact, three of the City's and State's four largest ethnic groups through most of the twentieth century--the Irish, Germans and Italians--were mainly (in the case of the Italians, almost entirely) Roman Catholic. They didn't have a non-Catholic aristocracy keeping them in check, the way the old-line WASP families did to the Irish Catholics in Boston. Or, at any rate, New York's equivalents to that ruling class, which had been mainly of Dutch and English heritage, had dissipated or disappeared entirely by the end of the 19th Century. And the largest non-Catholic ethnic group--the Jews--mostly allied themselves with the Irish and Italians, and later Hispanics (most of whom are Catholic) on political issues. That effectively strengthened the Catholic hold on the city. And, as New York City goes, so goes New York State.
On the other hand, the other states that now have same-sex marriage never had anything like the high numbers of immigrants, particularly from mostly-Catholic countries, that New York and Massachusetts have had. In fact, religion seems to play very little, if any, of a role at all in politics and public life in Vermont and New Hampshire. There seems to be more religiosity in Iowa, but there doesn't seem to be a dominant church as there is in New York or, to a lesser degree, in Massachusetts.
Knowing these things makes me wonder which state or jurisdiction will be the next one to legalize same-sex marriages. Perhaps Proposition 8 will be struck down in California. Or will Oregon or Washington legalize gay marriages before then? On the other hand, I don't expect that New Jersey will have gay marriage as long as Chris Cristie is Governor, although I expect the Garden State to wed same-sex couples before most other states. Whatever happens, I'm sure that New York is not going to be the last jurisdiction in the US to allow same-sex marriages.
About an hour after the vote, Governor Andrew Cuomo singned the bill into law. Now New York State joins neighboring Massachusetts, Connecticut and Vermont, as well as New Hampshire, Iowa and the District of Columbia, in legalizing same-sex unions.
The Coquille nation, whose members live mainly along the Oregon Coast, also have legalized same-sex marriage. They did so two years ago, and there was no mention of it in the mainstream press. In one sense, it's not difficult to understand why: In the 2000 Census, exactly 576 people identified themselves as Coquille.
What is interesting (and disturbing to some) is that New York is the sixth state to legalize same-sex unions. How, exactly, did those other states--including Iowa!--beat New York to legalizing same-sex unions?
Well, I don't have a complete answer to that. And I can only venture any sort of answer at all. But I can venture a guess.
One peculiarity of New York City and State politics is the degree to which the Roman Catholic church has influence. When Cardinal O'Connor headed the Archdiocese of New York, no one was elected as Mayor or Governor without his approval and endorsement. Archbishop Timothy Dolan may not yet have anything like O'Connor's influence. Then again, he's been in the position for less than a year. Still, one cannot deny the influence he and the Church have, even at this early stage of his stewardship.
Now, it's true that there are many Catholics in Massachusetts, particularly in the Boston area. But even when the Irish were the main ethnic group in Boston, the clerical hierarchy of the local Archdiocese never seemed to gain the sort of power and influence that they did in New York. If what I've just said is correct, it would be interesting to find out how and why that happened.
Now, I've never been to Iowa. But I have been to all of the other states (and DC) that have legalized same-sex marriage. Granted, Connecticut and Vermont are the only ones (besides Massachusettes and, of course, New York) in which I've spent extended periods of time. However, I think I've learned enough to form some impressions of each one.
It seems to me that no particular church or religious organization has the sort of influence over those states that the Archdiocese has over New York. That may be due to the fact that New York has always had such a large immigrant population and that so many of those immigrants were Catholic. In fact, three of the City's and State's four largest ethnic groups through most of the twentieth century--the Irish, Germans and Italians--were mainly (in the case of the Italians, almost entirely) Roman Catholic. They didn't have a non-Catholic aristocracy keeping them in check, the way the old-line WASP families did to the Irish Catholics in Boston. Or, at any rate, New York's equivalents to that ruling class, which had been mainly of Dutch and English heritage, had dissipated or disappeared entirely by the end of the 19th Century. And the largest non-Catholic ethnic group--the Jews--mostly allied themselves with the Irish and Italians, and later Hispanics (most of whom are Catholic) on political issues. That effectively strengthened the Catholic hold on the city. And, as New York City goes, so goes New York State.
On the other hand, the other states that now have same-sex marriage never had anything like the high numbers of immigrants, particularly from mostly-Catholic countries, that New York and Massachusetts have had. In fact, religion seems to play very little, if any, of a role at all in politics and public life in Vermont and New Hampshire. There seems to be more religiosity in Iowa, but there doesn't seem to be a dominant church as there is in New York or, to a lesser degree, in Massachusetts.
Knowing these things makes me wonder which state or jurisdiction will be the next one to legalize same-sex marriages. Perhaps Proposition 8 will be struck down in California. Or will Oregon or Washington legalize gay marriages before then? On the other hand, I don't expect that New Jersey will have gay marriage as long as Chris Cristie is Governor, although I expect the Garden State to wed same-sex couples before most other states. Whatever happens, I'm sure that New York is not going to be the last jurisdiction in the US to allow same-sex marriages.
22 June 2011
One More Vote, Please
It looks like there will soon be a vote on same-sex marriage bill in New York. The bill needs only one more vote and there are two uncommitted Republicans in the state Senate.
Some religious leaders want their organizations to be exempt from having to perform the marriages and from providing benefits for same-sex spouses of employees. That makes sense to me because, truth be told, most couples aren't going to go to a church that's hostile them. And, I guess that if religious groups that provide social and educational services can't be forced to provide condoms or abortion counseling, they can't be forced to provide health benefits for a same-sex partner.
The interesting thing is that some of those religious leaders--who include members of the clergy--are actually being more reasonable than some lay church members who don't want the bill passed at all. I don't know how many times I've seen, in person or on TV, some church member shouting, "Marriage Is Marriage," "Adam and Eve, Not Adam and Steve," or "Don't let New York become Sodom and Gomorrah!"
What they seem to forget is that this state is part of a secular democracy, and that not everyone shares their interpretation of their religion. Like all dominant groups, they don't realize just how much they're acting from an attitude of entitlement. They think that because they are part of a majority and that they are acting in accordance with their interpretation of their own faith, others should be subject to their will. They should get tax breaks for getting married and having kids; gay couples shouldn't have the same for committing themselves to each other and adopting kids.
For some people, I don't think it's even a question of faith or morality. They have always had the privileged position of being in the dominant or "default" culture, and are accustomed to privilege that they don't even realize they have. They're not so different from all of those people who thought that Jim Crow was normal, and who claimed to have no prejudice against blacks as long as they knew their "place."
Just one more vote. Please....
Some religious leaders want their organizations to be exempt from having to perform the marriages and from providing benefits for same-sex spouses of employees. That makes sense to me because, truth be told, most couples aren't going to go to a church that's hostile them. And, I guess that if religious groups that provide social and educational services can't be forced to provide condoms or abortion counseling, they can't be forced to provide health benefits for a same-sex partner.
The interesting thing is that some of those religious leaders--who include members of the clergy--are actually being more reasonable than some lay church members who don't want the bill passed at all. I don't know how many times I've seen, in person or on TV, some church member shouting, "Marriage Is Marriage," "Adam and Eve, Not Adam and Steve," or "Don't let New York become Sodom and Gomorrah!"
What they seem to forget is that this state is part of a secular democracy, and that not everyone shares their interpretation of their religion. Like all dominant groups, they don't realize just how much they're acting from an attitude of entitlement. They think that because they are part of a majority and that they are acting in accordance with their interpretation of their own faith, others should be subject to their will. They should get tax breaks for getting married and having kids; gay couples shouldn't have the same for committing themselves to each other and adopting kids.
For some people, I don't think it's even a question of faith or morality. They have always had the privileged position of being in the dominant or "default" culture, and are accustomed to privilege that they don't even realize they have. They're not so different from all of those people who thought that Jim Crow was normal, and who claimed to have no prejudice against blacks as long as they knew their "place."
Just one more vote. Please....
21 June 2011
Magnolia
Here is an old poem of mine, which I'm posting for no particular reason:
Magnolia
Buds throb red.
Cold raindrops cling
to bare branches
after the first
April storm.
My fingertips swelling,
my body pulses:
the center
of this old wound,
still fresh.
Still, I don’t
pull off my gloves--
There are no leaves
opening
from this tree.
Magnolia
Buds throb red.
Cold raindrops cling
to bare branches
after the first
April storm.
My fingertips swelling,
my body pulses:
the center
of this old wound,
still fresh.
Still, I don’t
pull off my gloves--
There are no leaves
opening
from this tree.
20 June 2011
Did You Catch This?
The New York State Legislative Session ended today. And the bill that would, if passed, allow for same-sex marriage still needs one more vote. Governor Cuomo has extended the Legislative Session. And Greg Ball, an upstate Republican State Senator is asking his constituents, via Twitter, how he should vote.
David Tyree, a former New York Giants football player, says that God may have given him the ability to make the one-handed catch he made to win the Super Bowl so that he would have a platform for opposing gay marriage. I know that God's ways are mysterious, but that is a very strange rationale, to say the least!
David Tyree, a former New York Giants football player, says that God may have given him the ability to make the one-handed catch he made to win the Super Bowl so that he would have a platform for opposing gay marriage. I know that God's ways are mysterious, but that is a very strange rationale, to say the least!
19 June 2011
Doing It (What?) Over Again
Today Millie asked me what I'm doing for the Fourth of July. Whenever she asks what I'm doing on any particular day, she has something planned and wants to invite me. For the Fourth, she's having a barbecue, as she's done just about every year that I've known her. She didn't have one two years ago, even though the Fourth fell on a Saturday, because that was the day I left for Trinidad.
So, in two weeks, my birthday (the 4th) and the anniversary of my surgery (the 7th) will come. It's hard to believe that two years will have passed since the latter event. And I'm not going to tell you how many years have passed since the day I was born!
As for the passage of time: My mother and I were talking about I-forget-what-topic, and the subject of aging and wrinkles came up. Mom said she'd like to look, not the way she did when she was 20 or 30, but the way she did when she and Dad moved to Florida nearly eighteen years ago. I said that I'd like to look better, but I don't really have the same anxiety about looking younger that many other women have. "That's because you don't have any memory of yourself as a younger woman," she said.
Mom was being her usual perceptive self. It's in contrast to an article someone passed on to me. David Brooks, one of my least favorite commentators (which is saying a lot, considering how much disdain I have for much of the mass media), said something to the effect that no thinking middle-aged person would turn down the chance to be 22 years old again.
That means I'm either not a thinking person, or not a middle-aged person, according to Brooks. He might be right on one or both counts. But I really think that, to be fair, he's simply not aware of the realities of life for people like me. Really, about the only way my past could have been much different is if I had been born female, or had transitioned at an earlier age. And, since I have no memory of myself as a woman (though I was one then, just as I am one now)--or, more accurately, I have no memory of having lived as a woman--I really have no way of envisioning how my life could have been different. After all, you can't wish to be 22 all over again so that you can make a few different choices if the life you're re-envisioning wasn't your own.
So, in two weeks, my birthday (the 4th) and the anniversary of my surgery (the 7th) will come. It's hard to believe that two years will have passed since the latter event. And I'm not going to tell you how many years have passed since the day I was born!
As for the passage of time: My mother and I were talking about I-forget-what-topic, and the subject of aging and wrinkles came up. Mom said she'd like to look, not the way she did when she was 20 or 30, but the way she did when she and Dad moved to Florida nearly eighteen years ago. I said that I'd like to look better, but I don't really have the same anxiety about looking younger that many other women have. "That's because you don't have any memory of yourself as a younger woman," she said.
Mom was being her usual perceptive self. It's in contrast to an article someone passed on to me. David Brooks, one of my least favorite commentators (which is saying a lot, considering how much disdain I have for much of the mass media), said something to the effect that no thinking middle-aged person would turn down the chance to be 22 years old again.
That means I'm either not a thinking person, or not a middle-aged person, according to Brooks. He might be right on one or both counts. But I really think that, to be fair, he's simply not aware of the realities of life for people like me. Really, about the only way my past could have been much different is if I had been born female, or had transitioned at an earlier age. And, since I have no memory of myself as a woman (though I was one then, just as I am one now)--or, more accurately, I have no memory of having lived as a woman--I really have no way of envisioning how my life could have been different. After all, you can't wish to be 22 all over again so that you can make a few different choices if the life you're re-envisioning wasn't your own.
18 June 2011
Who Is Passing Whom?
I was starting tow write an e-mail to a colleague at my second job, which may become my primary job. I haven't sent that e-mail, and am not sure I will. If said colleague reads this post, I probably won't need to send that e-mail.
In it, I described a bit about my experience in that place this year. In one sense, I would like to make that place my new professional "home," so to speak. In that place, I haven't experienced the subtle and not-so-subtle discrimination I've encountered on my primary job. Plus, it doesn't seem to have the dysfunction, the corruption or just the pure-and-simple pettiness that do so much to define the atmosphere, not to mention behavior and relationships, at my other job.
Still, I can't say that I felt "at home" at that second job, and somehow I don't expect to. That is in no way the fault of anyone I've encountered there--at least, not anyone I've encountered in person. (In fact, the colleague to whom I was writing the e-mail is one of the nicest co-workers I've had in a long time.) Perhaps it is not fair to say such things, as I started to work there less than a year ago. But I have noticed that there is a fundamental way in which I am different, which may or may not have to do with my experiences of gender identity and transition.
I think that if I had to choose one word to encapsulate that difference, it might be "innocence." There really seems to be a belief that if they work for and with the system, it will work for them. Whatever remnants I may have had of such a belief were destroyed on my primary job; I don't know whether anyone ever regains such a sense, or gains it after not having had it in the first place.
What that means is that they trust authority in a way that I can't, and perhaps never will. The interesting thing is that it's the most "liberal" people there who seem to have that faith (I can't think of a better word for it): They still think that governments and administrations can be moved to act in enlightened ways. I'm thinking in particular of one prof--whom, actually, I like personally--who wants me to become an organizer for the union. It is the same union to which faculty members at my main job belong; both colleges are part of the same university system. The prof says he "admires" my "intelligence" and "courage." (Little does he know!) However, I would have a very hard time in helping out a union that said it couldn't help me in what was a blatant case of discrimination.
And--let's face it--after an experience like that, and of being "used" by various people and organizations, you tend to become a bit wary, to say the least. Sometimes I don't simply feel I can't, or am not sure I can, trust certain colleagues and superiors: I'm not even sure that I want to trust them. Having been brought up on trumped-up charges, and being blamed for sexual harassment I experienced, may simply have made me less capable, and less desirous, of giving trust, at least on the job.
17 June 2011
Same-Sex Marriage In New York: Just One More Vote...
The buzz has been about marriage, at least here in New York. The bill to allow same-sex marriages has been approved by the state Assembly, and is said to be a mere vote away from being voted in by the state Senate.
Actually, we've been here before. Four years ago, the Assembly, which had and has a Democratic majority, voted for the bill. However, the Senate, which has had a Republican majority for decades, voted against it. But a year later, David Paterson, who became Governor after Eliot Spitzer resigned, directed all State agencies to recognize same-sex marriages performed in other jurisdictions, and in Canada, for the purpose of determining benefits. So, for example, the partner of a lesbian working in the Department of Motor Vehicles would be entitled to the same health insurance and such as the wife or husband of a heterosexual employee.
Once again, though, the state Senate blocked the bill allowing same-sex marriage.
This battle between the Assembly and Senate is the reason why the State's human rights laws include no provisions for transgenders (i.e., language that protects "gender identity and expression"). What's worse it that the Senate has prevented the inclusion of such provisions for the past forty years.
As I understand it, some state Senators are willing to vote for same-sex marriage as long as there is no protection for transgenders. And others want exemptions for religious institutions. So a program that was funded by the Catholic Church, or any other, could refuse to recognize same-sex marriages and grant benefits to the spouses of their gay employees.
The Legislature will hold its last session on Monday before going into recess. Some Assembly members are trying to get an extension for the bill that would allow for a vote after the Legislature returns. Otherwise, the bill would be shelved and would have to be re-introduced in future sessions of the Legislature.
Once again, though, the state Senate blocked the bill allowing same-sex marriage.
This battle between the Assembly and Senate is the reason why the State's human rights laws include no provisions for transgenders (i.e., language that protects "gender identity and expression"). What's worse it that the Senate has prevented the inclusion of such provisions for the past forty years.
As I understand it, some state Senators are willing to vote for same-sex marriage as long as there is no protection for transgenders. And others want exemptions for religious institutions. So a program that was funded by the Catholic Church, or any other, could refuse to recognize same-sex marriages and grant benefits to the spouses of their gay employees.
The Legislature will hold its last session on Monday before going into recess. Some Assembly members are trying to get an extension for the bill that would allow for a vote after the Legislature returns. Otherwise, the bill would be shelved and would have to be re-introduced in future sessions of the Legislature.
14 June 2011
The Gay Girl In Damascus: An American In Scotland
By now, you may have read reports that the Gay Girl in Damascus blog has been revealed to be the work of an American man studying in Scotland.
Predictably, many people have expressed outrage. Some of them, I believe, were acting out of anger that throbbed when their egos were bruised from the blow of realizing they'd been had. But others, I feel, have more legitimate reasons for their anger.
While it could be argued that the plight of gay people and activists in Syria was accurately portrayed, it's equally true that the revelation will make such people targets, if they are not already. Worse, it strips them of their credibility in they eyes of many people. So, the next time some gay activists writes of being harassed or tortured, some will dismiss it in the same way people in Aesop's fable dismissed the boy who cried "wolf!"
I had a hard enough time getting the attention of anyone who could help after two cops ran me off the street, and nearly ran me over, after I ignored their calls of "Nice legs, honey. Imagine how much worse it could have been if some blogger claimed a similar experience but turned out to be an investment banker living with his wife and kids in a gated community in Connecticut. Forget about me, if you want to: What would it be like for the next person who was subjected to homo- or trans-phobic violence? Imagine trying to get help from people who'd just been spoofed with a story similar to yours.
The unfortunate thing is that the guy who posed as the Gay Girl in Syria will probably get of scot-free (no pun intended) while gay people and activists may suffer some of the things recounted in Gay Girl's blog. And no one will heed their calls for help.
Predictably, many people have expressed outrage. Some of them, I believe, were acting out of anger that throbbed when their egos were bruised from the blow of realizing they'd been had. But others, I feel, have more legitimate reasons for their anger.
While it could be argued that the plight of gay people and activists in Syria was accurately portrayed, it's equally true that the revelation will make such people targets, if they are not already. Worse, it strips them of their credibility in they eyes of many people. So, the next time some gay activists writes of being harassed or tortured, some will dismiss it in the same way people in Aesop's fable dismissed the boy who cried "wolf!"
I had a hard enough time getting the attention of anyone who could help after two cops ran me off the street, and nearly ran me over, after I ignored their calls of "Nice legs, honey. Imagine how much worse it could have been if some blogger claimed a similar experience but turned out to be an investment banker living with his wife and kids in a gated community in Connecticut. Forget about me, if you want to: What would it be like for the next person who was subjected to homo- or trans-phobic violence? Imagine trying to get help from people who'd just been spoofed with a story similar to yours.
The unfortunate thing is that the guy who posed as the Gay Girl in Syria will probably get of scot-free (no pun intended) while gay people and activists may suffer some of the things recounted in Gay Girl's blog. And no one will heed their calls for help.
13 June 2011
Illegal Immigrants=Drunk Drivers? According to Fattman, Yes.
Time was when even the most open-minded of people used to say that rape victims were "asking for it" or "must have done something" to provoke the attacker.
I'm sure there are still people who still think that way. But at least no public officials who want to get elected to, or stay in, office would say such a thing. And they certainly wouldn't equate a rape survivor with a drunk driver.
Or would they?
Well, believe it or not, a state representative in Massachusetts--yes, Massachusetts--actually said that. Well, he didn't say it directly. Instead, he used some of the most tortured syntax and logic to come to that.
Steve Fattman (Does he have a brother named Jake, by any chance?) said that rape victims who are illegal immigrants "should be afraid to come forward." In Massachusetts, there is a program called "Safe Communities" which requires both perpetrators and victims to be fingerprinted so that authorities can check the prints against immigration databases. Whoever designed the program probably thought that he or she was indeed making the community safer. However, I don't think anyone thought of this consequence: Many immigrants are now afraid to come forward. I'm not talking only about illegal ones, now, either: Many come from places where, in essence, the cops and the military are one in the same and have free rein to do what they want to people. That makes them afraid of authorities generally.
And, of course, illegal immigrants would be even more afraid to come forward. That is what Rep. Fattman wants. "If someone is here illegally, they should be afraid to come forward because they should be afraid of getting deported." While explaining to a reporter that he was quoted out of context, he said, "If someone got into a car accident, it's obviously a tragic event. But if they're drunk and they crash, it's a crime. If that person was drunk and survived the accident they would be afraid to come forward." Likewise, he said illegals should be afraid to come forward.
I won't rant and rave about how that statement is offensive on so many levels. Instead, I will talk about a Barbadian student I had a few years ago. I'll call her Charlene. One evening, she came to class wearing big sunglasses. I think she knew that I knew why she was wearing them, and she asked to see me after class.
Even though I knew nothing about her life, I knew--even before she opened her mouth--that the black eye and other bruises were caused by her husband. Don't ask me how--I just knew. In fact, almost everything about her story was sadly predictable--except for one thing. Yes, she was here illegally. So, for that matter, was her husband. In fact, he wanted to come here and insisted that she did. And, in her community, everyone took his side because they are all religious conservatives who believe that a woman is supposed to be subservient to a man. They also believe, after the Apostle Paul, that women are essentially a necessary evil for marriage and making children. According to what Charlene told me, even the women in her family and community believe this way.
Of course, I talked to her about leaving him. There were churches, safe houses and other places where she could go, I told her. That wouldn't help, she protested: Her husband, as well as many other people in her community, would look for her. One or two might even try to kill her, she said.
And, on top of that, she had to worry about Immigration and Naturalization! That's not what a battered woman--or anyone suffering a trauma of any sort that isn't of his or her own doing--should be worrying about.
But worry she did. After all, in the minds of such as Rep. Fattman, she is on the same moral level as a drunk driver.
I'm sure there are still people who still think that way. But at least no public officials who want to get elected to, or stay in, office would say such a thing. And they certainly wouldn't equate a rape survivor with a drunk driver.
Or would they?
Well, believe it or not, a state representative in Massachusetts--yes, Massachusetts--actually said that. Well, he didn't say it directly. Instead, he used some of the most tortured syntax and logic to come to that.
Steve Fattman (Does he have a brother named Jake, by any chance?) said that rape victims who are illegal immigrants "should be afraid to come forward." In Massachusetts, there is a program called "Safe Communities" which requires both perpetrators and victims to be fingerprinted so that authorities can check the prints against immigration databases. Whoever designed the program probably thought that he or she was indeed making the community safer. However, I don't think anyone thought of this consequence: Many immigrants are now afraid to come forward. I'm not talking only about illegal ones, now, either: Many come from places where, in essence, the cops and the military are one in the same and have free rein to do what they want to people. That makes them afraid of authorities generally.
And, of course, illegal immigrants would be even more afraid to come forward. That is what Rep. Fattman wants. "If someone is here illegally, they should be afraid to come forward because they should be afraid of getting deported." While explaining to a reporter that he was quoted out of context, he said, "If someone got into a car accident, it's obviously a tragic event. But if they're drunk and they crash, it's a crime. If that person was drunk and survived the accident they would be afraid to come forward." Likewise, he said illegals should be afraid to come forward.
I won't rant and rave about how that statement is offensive on so many levels. Instead, I will talk about a Barbadian student I had a few years ago. I'll call her Charlene. One evening, she came to class wearing big sunglasses. I think she knew that I knew why she was wearing them, and she asked to see me after class.
Even though I knew nothing about her life, I knew--even before she opened her mouth--that the black eye and other bruises were caused by her husband. Don't ask me how--I just knew. In fact, almost everything about her story was sadly predictable--except for one thing. Yes, she was here illegally. So, for that matter, was her husband. In fact, he wanted to come here and insisted that she did. And, in her community, everyone took his side because they are all religious conservatives who believe that a woman is supposed to be subservient to a man. They also believe, after the Apostle Paul, that women are essentially a necessary evil for marriage and making children. According to what Charlene told me, even the women in her family and community believe this way.
Of course, I talked to her about leaving him. There were churches, safe houses and other places where she could go, I told her. That wouldn't help, she protested: Her husband, as well as many other people in her community, would look for her. One or two might even try to kill her, she said.
And, on top of that, she had to worry about Immigration and Naturalization! That's not what a battered woman--or anyone suffering a trauma of any sort that isn't of his or her own doing--should be worrying about.
But worry she did. After all, in the minds of such as Rep. Fattman, she is on the same moral level as a drunk driver.
12 June 2011
Chaz Bono and Me: Hey, You Never Know!
I'm thinking now of a man who was a colleague of mine back when I was the "before" photo. Tall, portly and with an easy manner, he's one of those guys who's avuncular at 50 and is now almost grandfatherly. I'm guessing that he's about 65, give or take a few years.
Anyway, back in January, I bumped into him. We hadn't seen each other in about a dozen years. He had heard about me because I stopped at the college where we used to teach and where his brother was still teaching. His brother seemed more bemused, but he--I'll call him Jimmy--was actually quite sympathetic when I bumped into him. "I was surprised, really," he said. "I thought you were straight, you seemed pretty masculine and you were so athletic."
He thought for a moment and added," I guess you just never know who is."
I thought of that when I was talking with my mother today. She saw Chaz Bono on a program--I forget which--on a cable network. "She, I mean he, has such a big neck," she said.
"I know. It's a linebacker's neck."
"Yeah, you're right. She, I mean he, really changed."
I then explained some of the effects of taking testosterone, and the fact that, because it's a stronger hormone than estrogen, the changes in female-to-male transsexuals are usually even more pronounced than those in male-to-females who take estrogen.
"But he really looks different from when he was Chastity!," my mother exclaimed. Then, she paused in a way she rarely does; I guessed that she was trying not to mix up the pronouns. "You know," she said, "Chastity was really cute."
"Yes, I remember her from those old Sonny and Cher shows."
Chastity, as I remember, really was cute, in an almost Shirley Temiple-ish sort of way. But even then--about four decades ago--I saw something unusual in her. I couldn't articulate what it was, but I somehow had the feelng it had to do with whether or not she would like boys when she got a little older.
And now he's one of them. As they say in the old country, "Hey, you never know!"
Anyway, back in January, I bumped into him. We hadn't seen each other in about a dozen years. He had heard about me because I stopped at the college where we used to teach and where his brother was still teaching. His brother seemed more bemused, but he--I'll call him Jimmy--was actually quite sympathetic when I bumped into him. "I was surprised, really," he said. "I thought you were straight, you seemed pretty masculine and you were so athletic."
He thought for a moment and added," I guess you just never know who is."
I thought of that when I was talking with my mother today. She saw Chaz Bono on a program--I forget which--on a cable network. "She, I mean he, has such a big neck," she said.
"I know. It's a linebacker's neck."
"Yeah, you're right. She, I mean he, really changed."
I then explained some of the effects of taking testosterone, and the fact that, because it's a stronger hormone than estrogen, the changes in female-to-male transsexuals are usually even more pronounced than those in male-to-females who take estrogen.
"But he really looks different from when he was Chastity!," my mother exclaimed. Then, she paused in a way she rarely does; I guessed that she was trying not to mix up the pronouns. "You know," she said, "Chastity was really cute."
"Yes, I remember her from those old Sonny and Cher shows."
Chastity, as I remember, really was cute, in an almost Shirley Temiple-ish sort of way. But even then--about four decades ago--I saw something unusual in her. I couldn't articulate what it was, but I somehow had the feelng it had to do with whether or not she would like boys when she got a little older.
And now he's one of them. As they say in the old country, "Hey, you never know!"
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