Author: JAC

Radical genderqueer-femme trans*-activist and performance artist, born and raised in the Midwest.

Family Guy; Affectionate Oppression?

Posted on by JAC

On Sunday Fox aired a Family Guy episode in honor of Mother’s Day. In the episode, Quagmire’s father comes out as a transwoman named Ida. The show follows Ida coming out and the subsequent reactions where she is repeatedly torn apart by appallingly transphobic remarks from nearly the entire cast. GLAAD is all over it, and prominent queer blogs like Bilerico are talking it up really well. And while everyone is quick to say THIS IS BAD, I feel there is a lot not being said about why this is such a problem, the complex attempts at support, and the deep the oppression this episode exemplifies.

I will admit it, I have been a major Family Guy fan; I’ve seen every episode dozens of times. And since I am a fan, what sucked almost as much as dealing with the episode was my expectation that it would finally force me to boycott Family Guy (and I’d do it too, fan or not).

Some background: I am very familiar with the methodology of the series, and the arguments against it. The biggest case against the show is that it is unfailingly offensive, and it is. Some argue that it is ok because the show attacks everyone. I DO NOT think is a viable argument. The show attacks everyone who is already dis-empowered, but rarely, if ever, do you see any episodes talking about how fucked up white privilege is or how misogyny is a major theme in the show. Even with this, I liked the show because like the shows that came before it (i.e. The Simpsons, South Park, Married with Children,) I can appreciate the irony. The purpose of the problematic stuff is to highlight reality, and in this hell-trap of oppression sometimes laughter is good medicine. Peter Griffin and Homer Simpson are NOT intended to be heroes or idols. They are a mirror of what the USA is at its worst and in that awareness we are to laugh at them and not be like them. Yes, I realize not everyone reads the show like I do, and I am sure the producers milk the uneducated demographic without trying to change it, but sometimes I just want to say “Fuck the bigoted idiots who take it seriously, I want a smart laugh.” But as seasons progress that has gotten harder and harder to say about Family Guy…

Family Guy has  progressed past social commentary. The show’s creator and writer, Seth MacFarlane, frequently goes too far, and this transphobic episode is one of those times. I am positive the guy is absorbed in white male privilege and regardless of his decent politics and good intentions, he’s still a rich white-male jackass poking fun at unrepresented groups in whatever way he and his writers can imagine we, the minority, are like. After Elton’s Brent Hartinger highlights some good points about Seth MacFarlane’s statement saying that he:

“…can safely say that the transsexual community will be very, very happy with the “Quagmire” episode… It’s probably the most sympathetic portrayal of a transexual character that has ever been on television, dare I say.”

Now, I agree with Hartinger that MacFarlane is most likely an idiot. But honestly, Ida herself is a decent representation of a transwoman. Aside from her saintliness in receiving discriminatory remarks from EVERYONE and a‘trapped in the wrong body’ description, Ida actually presents a pretty positive (or at least not negative) representation. Ida describes thinking about transitioning her whole life and at one point she says a very empowering statement: “I’m changing my future, not my past” which is not the common representation of trans folk, especially by non-transfolk. The show even recognizes that being trans is not the same thing as gay. Ida’s son Quagmire’s reaction is also non-offensive. He reacts realistically, torn emotionally between his own concept of his father, his personal masculine hang-ups and lack of education about trans identity, and his desire to please his father. And though he is clearly upset, he never says or does anything out of line and continually shows his love and concern for his parent. In the end, Quagmire supports Ida, saying he loves her and wants her to be happy. He is the only character in the show who does this, or demonstrates any other form of acceptance of Ida’s trans identity.

But though the episode created a positive trans character, it but normalized the attacks on her. The rest of the cast has  repetitive transphobic dialogue that is so offensive it was nothing else but horrifying. It is hard believe anyone could say this episode is sympathetic, or indeed close to anything but monstrous.

Continue reading “Family Guy; Affectionate Oppression?” →

What We’ve Got

Posted on by JAC

I feel like I spend a lot of time, on here in particularly, talking about what we, the trans community, don’t have but should have, need but aren’t allowed, and want but can’t have. Today I think I’ll focus on what we do have. Yesterday Rocco and Katz (better known as Katastrophe and Athens Boys Choir) came to perform. It was really great get some time with other transguys who are around the same point on the path that I am. Honestly I think we maybe got 20 min all together talking about specific trans-ish stuff, but it didn’t matter because I like them so much, its been about two years since we last hung out.  Both Rocco and Katz talk a lot about their pasts in their work, and I love how they continually reach out to the commonalities we all have. No matter where you grew up, or what your life was like, trans kids and queer kids have a rough time. We all know what its like, which raises the importance that we be there for each other.

Katz (Athens Boys Choir), me, and Rocco (Katastrophe) posing very professionally after some fun coloring time.

[image: Katz, JAC, and Rocco holding up pictures they drew. Katz has a beefcake expression and holds a picture of a  ranch, JAC is smiling widely- 3 bug-eyed birds that he draws all the time, Rocco smiling widely – a frog with a long tongue.]

There is something particular to be said about chillin’ with other folks who have an identity like your own. One of my students recently came out as trans. When I first met him, I recognized him, probably because I’d seen him around campus, or so I thought. As we talked it came out that he was born in Cincinnati, and when I asked where in the city, who is family was, my brain rushed a wall. I recognized him because I used to babysit him and his sister. Last time I saw him he was about six years old, and thirteen years later, he still has the same face. I just had to hug him, and joked that he caught the ‘trans’ from me. It was an amazing experience because I had a history with him, but not a school history or a friend history, a history of caring for him, knowing him when he was a tiny baby, playing with him, teaching him, watching him get bigger and more alive every year… Now here he was, all grown up and just like me (except a lot better at sports). Today over lunch, he and I talked a little about a couple different trans-related topics, and as I talked I kept coming back to the familiar spot where I emphasize the importance of how we, trans people, rely on each other as a community. Not that other folks in other communities don’t do the same thing, but trans people have such a particularly unique experience, these complex journeys of figuring shit out in a societal structure that speaks to our out nonexistence. And we come from all communities, all backgrounds, and the complex overlapping of socio-cultural elements, sexuality and partnering, gender expression, identity, and more. No one’s got this but us, and who better to know how to handle it but us, and those who have come before us. So we don’t have a ton of history documenting us, resources to help us, laws to protect us, or even communities to love and accept us, but we’ve got each other. And as long as we hold on to each other, help each other, we can fight to get the rest of what we need, what we deserve. So if you are feeling down or isolated, just remember you’re part of something bigger, and your fight is my fight. I’ll finish off in the immortal words of Red Green, “I’m pullin’ for ya. We’re all in this together.”

If You Still Aren’t Sure About G.I.D….

Posted on by JAC

I sat in the house-made office on the east side of the city, waiting. I looked at the doctor, “I need a letter so I can renew my T, and I want it without therapy or a GID (Gender Identity Disorder) diagnosis. Can you do that?” She didn’t understand why I was against GID. “It is oppressive.” I said. She disagreed and told me that I was not oppressed. “You aren’t trans,” I said, “and you aren’t me. How can you possibly tell me I am not oppressed when YOU are the one who has control over MY life?”

ENDA is continually being talked about, pushing forward after years of work. Trans people have been left out, brought in, cut out, and re-attached because of our ‘tentative’ inclusion as legitimate members of any given community. And why are we consistently left out? It isn’t just because we are the weirdos and freaks of a heteronormative world. It is because no matter how human we make ourselves, how hard we work, how sorry they feel for us, we are still considered crazy. The thing is, from a logical perspective you can’t even blame others for wanting to cut us out because it IS easier without us. Last week The Washington Times published an editorial stating that ENDA was a mistake, that discrimination was necessary not because of the gays or the queers but because of the mentally ill “she-males” threatening to take over schools, churches, and bathrooms.

“Our children and our co-workers should not be forced by law to be held hostage to such [gender identity] disorders, nor should employers be forced to have psychologically troubled persons as the public face of their businesses.”

You may hate that statement, but if you are in support of GID you might as well be in support it. I must clarify: I will never judge any person for doing whatever they had to do to live their life. Most people don’t have a choice, either GID or nothing. But there is a difference between doing what you have to do and actively supporting a system that oppresses us. Non-trans people who support GID, no fucking tolerance, they are all oppressive, uneducated pretentious bastards. Trans people who support GID, advocate for GID providers, turn their backs to change… is it because of happiness in transition or fear of losing their transition? Or both? But what is the price? Along with tons of money, your legitimacy, and social standing of a sane, competent person is removed from you in the eyes of society. Even those of us who have been able to avoid the system through luck of a liberal city – or in my case driving 5 hours to a liberal city… we are still stuck in it because it is a community label. GID is about as liberating as indentured servitude. Trans people are given the “freedom” to live life, but in exchange we must give doctors and the government our life, and our sanity.

“[Trans inclusive legislation is] …promoting and subjecting decent society–let alone our children–to psychological and sexual PERVERSIONS”

GID enables the statement above to MAKE SENSE in the systems of logic, like 1 + 1 = 2. According to the DSM, no matter how they tweak the language, we are mentally disordered, we are perverted, as are our friends in kink, polyamorous,and BDSM communities. GID is not about health, it is about control, money, and normalizing those who are deemed impossible to be normal. It is about erasing us. GID is a tool for them, not us. GID defends them, not us.  GID was not made for us, it was made to explain us, to rationalize us, to categorize us, to FIX us, but it was not made to help us.

So while you are out fighting the good fight for ENDA, keep an eye on the movement for our upcoming storm about GID reform, GIDout.org!

Mmmbop is Back!

Posted on by JAC

I am a Hanson fan, old school. Yeah, I thought Taylor (the middle one) was a girl originally, but I though Zac (the little one) was hella cute. The summer “Mmmbop” came out I was 13, and it was quite the adventurous time. My sister and I ate, slept, and breathed Hanson. We taped every TV appearance and watched them on loop and we knew every lyric to every song they ever wrote, sang, or sat next to. We recorded our lives everyday as an ongoing video message for us to send to Hanson so they could get to know us. We saw them live in huge stadiums of screaming girls, twice, which furnished some of my favorite adventures of my childhood. In fact some of my favorite moments in my childhood were results of my sister and I bonding through Hanson fandom.

When I was 17 my best friend and I saw Hanson perform again, this time in the much smaller Taft theater in downtown Cincinnati. We rushed the stage and I totally shook Taylor’s hand. It was a crowing achievement in my life. When I was 19 I MET Hanson after they performed in the even smaller venue, Bogarts. Turns out Taylor is the only one with a good personality. He was kind and attentive to fans, friendly and warm. When I met Issac for the 1st time, a sexually empowered 17 year old virgin that I had been standing with said she wanted to make out with him. He said with a smile “Um, there is a word for girls like that and it starts with an S.” So that wasn’t cool at all, super misogynistic. Then I met Zac, my favorite, and I asked if I could kiss him on the cheek. He squinted his eyes and said, “No, sorry.” like I was asking for his virginity or something. Pissh, burn on me. And I was cute too, so WTF? I guess I should respect him as a human who doesn’t want random creeper girls kissing him, but no, I’m not gonna go that way. I’m gonna stick with it being about ME. And then the next time I met Hanson, when I was 20, Zac didn’t even come out to meet the fans so my show poster to this day is missing an autograph. (ITS ALL ABOUT ME!)

Clearly, they felt bad about theses incidents and wanted to make up for it (its five years late, but I’m willing to overlook it). Taylor turned to his brothers and said, “Hey Ike, Zac, I’m think we should make a music video with dance moves that are so gay and so awkward that NO ONE on this earth would ever doubt that they were made specifically for JAC McFaggin’.”  This is what they came up with.


Thinking ‘Bout Somethin’


HANSON | MySpace Music Videos

That’s right, this video is nothing but a gift for me (notice the cowbell? That was for me too). Their music career? The rest of the world? Irrelevant. This is all for me. But because I am nice, I will continue to allow Hanson to share the joyful ridiculousness of this video. Your Welcome.

DID YOU SEE how gay Zac’s jump was at the very end?  His feet were at his ass. That’s how I jump, and I am pretty fucking gay. And clearly Issac did not get the same dance gene that Taylor and Zac have, even to where, apparently, he had to get cut out of the shot at the end.  And I don’t wanna be ‘that guy’, but the Motown borrowings were just a little weird to me. I know they were raised on Motown and get a lot of inspiration from that (every good fan has Hanson’s history memorized), and that is why its there, but I donno… I will have to get more opinions on this. I feel there is something to be said for aspiring towards the music they love so much. And did you see Zac in that leather jacket? I WISH I had a chest like that, shit. That was sexy. I wasn’t down with Taylor’s shadowy facial-hair… but he has such a cute face its enough to make up for it. Plus Taylor is pretty fabulous in general, you can tell he’s totally rockin’ it the whole video. I really wish the Hansons were queer. Can you even imagine how out of control that would be?

JAC_Hanson

[image: JAC with brown hair and brown eyes, looking into the camera with mouth open. Holding open a red shirt revealing a black Hanson t-shirt]

Me in 2006 – and yes I still have this shirt, and yes I still wear it, and yes I still think the Hansons are hot.  And apparently they have an activist side to them focusing on HIV/AIDS in Africa. Shit, who knew? Good for you, Hanson. I wonder how they feel about queers. UPDATE: Zac interviewed by the Advocate, holy shit! Yay! Now I can like them minus guilt cause they aren’t homophobes! He does say “chooses” in reference to sexuality, but it might just be semantics.

And I want to give a shout out to my beloved sister who gave me a heads up about this video. You’re the best. I haven’t heard any new Hanson music since 2007 (reference myspace blog) so I guess I should get back into it and see what other treasures are awaiting me. Keep an eye out for this number coming to a drag show near you. Oh and Black Mondays, get ready, cause I’m gonna need some back up dancers.

Mothers and Me

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I rifled through old papers in yet another fit of obsessive cleaning. Mixed in a folder of stickers, old poems, and magazine clippings I found a couple letters from my Grandma. Her dementia barely spilled out onto the page, maybe if I had nothing to compare it to I wouldn’t notice it at all. The last letter I remember writing to my grandma was when I was about twenty; I can see the stationary of my childhood against the bright green carpet of my apartment. “Dear Grandma,” I lied and said I was doing well in school, told her about my work on a social justice conference, and that I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I didn’t mind. That was my last letter. Within a year I came out as trans, I but I didn’t come out to her… I didn’t know if she would understand, I didn’t know if she would accept me, I didn’t know if she would remember it the next day…

My grandma and I had a special bond. When I was growing up, Grandma and I were closer than my mom and I were. My mom and I were always at odds, always fighting, but Grandma and I were peas in a pod, I was her special girl. She lived with us for several years. I would climb the stairs to the third floor everyday to tell her about my day, and I would always bring my friends and boyfriend by to see her, just to say “hi”. She paid more attention to my life than my mom ever seemed to do. I would sit on her bed and listen stories about her childhood in Australia; cane toads invading the yard, climbing the fence at her all-girls school to wave handkerchiefs at the boys, singing on tables in bars for the soldiers during the war… At night when I couldn’t sleep she would sit on my bed and sing fragments of her favorite 1940s songs, skipping the words she couldn’t remember. She would sit in her room all day, sipping boxed wine. Her voice would echo down the rickety brown, back stairs as she sang along to old Dean Martin tapes. Songs from another time, memories from an absent life. I remember when I was very young I liked to sit in her lap and play with her gold “G” pendant necklace. “Grandma, what’s your name?” She spoke playfully, “Georgia.” Her eyes were big and brown just like mine. I could see myself in her, maybe more easily than in my mother. All three of us have the same eyes, the same look, the same shape; like the same body passed down, each destined for a different life.

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About April

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April has always been a favorite month of mine. As a kid, April was time for Easter candy, my mom’s birthday, and violets – my favorite flower. It brought the first signs of Spring as winds blew away Midwest winter overcasts revealing bright blue skies shining on green clover fields. April means brightness, color, sunshine, and rebirth. Sometimes I wish SAAM (Sexual Assault Awareness Month) had gone to a different month. Maybe its supposed to coincide with life and rebirth… but for me rebirth has nothing to do with the topic. I do a lot of planning and programming around sexual assault, finding ways to promote healthy relationships, education and awareness. But the day of… the work stops being for the good of the community and becomes nothing but a reminder. Not of the failings of society, the aggressions, the suffering… I think only of myself, where I’ve been, and what I have tried to forget.

I wandered the empty lecture hall waiting for no one to show up. I hit the lights and started the film, listening to the survivors stories echoing over the empty rows of chairs. Like cracking ice, I started to feel it. Push. Pull. When the movie ended there was a silence. It was my job to promote discussion, but I didn’t. I didn’t know if anyone else was a survivor, and I didn’t want to out myself in front of my co-workers. So I left the silence alone, watching the three attendees gather their things. I felt like a shell, smiling, faking, wishing people a good night. On my way home I turned the music up. At home, I fed my cats, cleaned my kitchen, and dissociated.

Queers search for each other through our ‘queer-dar’ using haircuts, gestures, and politics to find each other. It isn’t the same for survivors. I look at people, continually thinking its gonna written somewhere for my radar to read. But it isn’t written on me, and I’ve never seen it on anyone else. So we are continually silent, waiting for someone to speak up so we can find each other, passing as people who aren’t survivors, for better or worse, never being recognized and never finding each other.

My second ‘Take Back the Night’ I got the guts to speak out. I held my friends hand, said almost nothing, and hid from everyone the rest of the night. I was horrified and exposed, but it did make a change in me. You always hear about speaking out changing lives, and it actually does. I had tried to claim ‘survivor’ before, but I still felt like a victim. Speaking out changed that. It stopped being just a weight on me, it became a part of my identity for better or worse. I was no longer a prisoner to it. After that, like a flood, other survivors found me. They didn’t know where I had been exactly, but we could understand each other. Now, almost three years later, I’ve back-slid into forgetting and ignoring. Its funny, the last thing I want to do is remember but forgetting is just as bad. Its lose lose. Sometimes I can manage a reasonable balance of neither acknowledging or ignoring, but that is hard to keep it up in April.

April. Sometimes I wonder who we are helping here? Communities of the oppressed are put upon to educate the rest even when we should be focusing ourselves. Whatever the cause queers, survivors, it is all the same tune. But who else cares about this shit but people who it has effected, either directly or indirectly through a loved one. I know, I don’t want to take credit from a great many allies, but if you look at the majority of people doing this work we’ve all been through something, or multiple somethings. That’s how we know what to say, and what isn’t being said. But… When I think about it, when I do this work really all that I have in my mind is those I love, more than myself. The people I know, the stories I’ve heard. That is what makes me want to do the work. I don’t think that much about my experiences because I don’t want to… So I guess I understand the allies working for this. They feel as I do, wanting to help those they love, wanting no one to ever have to live through that pain. And for me, it is because I know that pain first hand that I want to protect those I love from it.

This post has no real point, or profound message (like my other posts do??) More than anything, I think this was a speak out post for me, to refresh my power of self, to fight against back-sliding into denial and darkness. I don’t even want to publish this, but I am going to. I am going to push myself to not be afraid. And this post is a signal to other survivors. Since we have no radar, no flag, no rainbow to find one another… if you can’t find anyone else, you can find me. Here I am, I am like you. You are not alone.