Feeling Change: Trans in Ohio

This past weekend was the 4th Annual TransOhio Transgender and Ally Symposium, the only trans focused event of its kind in Ohio, and one of few, if not the only one, in the Midwest. This was my first year on the conference project as a TransOhio board member and I’m very pleased with what we were able to accomplish. We have a long way to go, but we’re getting there in a good way! I totally used my board position to aid in bringing amazing activist/performer/educator (and a my dear friend) Ignacio Rivera as the keynote. Through their keynote address they delivered exactly what our community needed to hear; the importance of hard work, dedication, inclusion, and intersectionality.

Image: 3 Conference organizers posing and smiling with Keynote Ignacio Rivera.  Sarah (brown hair, glasses, blue sweater), Ignacio Rivera, (PoC genderqueer in white half sleeve shirt and glasses) Shane (bearded, glasses, grey shirt), JAC (pink hair, blue shirt, glasses), and Melissa (longer brown hair, striped blouse, holding a black laptop)

Community. I got a surprisingly large amount of it over the weekend. Every year I associate this symposium with community, yes, but more so with what may possibly be my longest work days of the year. This time around I didn’t feel the work so much. I mean, I felt it; I was presenting in almost every block of the 3 day conference plus producing and performing in Fabulously Fluid!. But this year it seemed like a more active, lively, and loving experience.

[Image: Midwest Genderqueer -gq transguy w pink hair, standing with hand on hip, head down slighting holding a microphone. dressed in gold metallic booty shorts, black bra, a gold metallic necktie which sits underneath the bra and has a black fascinator hat on his head.] Photo by Thomas Menningen 

At the show, now finishing it’s 3rd year running, I was moved by the performers. The first year of Fabulously Fluid! I advertised to performers that it as a genderfuck show, but the majority of the numbers weren’t especially ‘gender’ themed. This year was quite different with nearly all performances using elements of gender, politics, and/or personal empowerment. Everyone around me was working hard and sending love and support; talking about the importance of being there, being present and active in this fight in whatever way they could. I continually  found myself loosing composure – maybe because by the show I was emotionally and physically drained from the day, maybe it was because these last several months have been more lonely and hellish than usual and the contrast of support was a shock, or maybe its because I was able to take a minute, look out, and see the community that I’m so often struggling to build and to find.

It’s not easy to be Midwestern and Trans* and I’ll admit it, sometimes I feel pretty downtrodden.  The “straight” community either doesn’t believe we exist or is determined to pretend that we don’t and local “gay” communities, many feel the same way OR are still misunderstanding us either through well intentioned exclusion or oblivious oppression. It’s a 24/7 push against a wall that never gives, and every time you think one brick might be giving way, another collapses on top of it to reinforce the structure of invisibility, disempowerment, and rejection. The understanding that there is more to ‘queer’ than homosexuality, more to community than white, middle class; more the gender than boy or girl; more to accessibility than putting up a poster; more to activism than simply stating that things are getting better. Our community is isolated, separated, and scared – but the most important thing is that it is there. It is there and for the first time people are actually seeing it. I think that the “change” that has been incubating and forming is finally growing big enough to recognize. In my Gender Identity Disorder Removal workshop, I had almost twenty providers listening, nodding, and understanding the plight of the trans* community. In my genderqueer caucus I heard people, younger and older, bonding over the same feelings and learning from their different experiences. Even at home here in Cincinnati, the project I’ve been working to get off the ground for three years is finally taking some sort of shape and providing more to the community. Out of nowhere people are starting to talk, and as I watch the mixing of different generations’ and communities’ language, ideas, and experiences I’m thinking that this is bigger than what any of us can see right now. Is the solution to oppression, exclusion, and miseducation around the corner? I’m too jaded to be optimistic, but I’m always willing to be hopeful.

I like to think that I have gotten used to oppression – I need to think that in order to feel strong enough to fight back. It is easier to take a blow, especially one from your own people, when you see it coming. But being accustomed is not the same as accepting it. I will not accept being assigned a ‘less than’ value; I will not accept moving forward while leaving others behind; I will not accept rejection from a community I know I am a part of, and that includes the community of trans*, queer, Cincinnati, Ohio, the Midwest, the USA, the globe. It isn’t going to be easy, and a lot of it isn’t going to be enjoyable. Of all the things I love about my work and my communities, there is a lot that I really struggle with to where I think I’m going to either crumble or burst. Gotta keep your eye on the prize. Sometimes the right thing to do is not what we like to do or what we want to do. We have to do it anyway. What will carry us through this pain and suffering is not anger and it is not love; it is perseverance. It is dedication to something bigger than you or me; the idea that something better than this is possible. I don’t expect to see the golden changing of all of this in my lifetime, but I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that those who come after me will.

Pride, People, and Perseverance

Pride’s over for another year, making this the week of recuperation for many local folks. I always need some downtime after Pride, but this year especially. Maybe it’s a result of long-term exposure to this oppressive city, maybe it’s a growing lack of patience, or maybe I’m just losing my touch a little; for whatever reason I find myself needing significant self care after this year’s Pride side effects of overwhelming planning, hours of work, heat exhaustion, and the annual broken heart.

I rushed out from the tarp-lined picnic shelter “dressing room” and stood beside the Northern Kentucky Pride stage. From the small park I could see the signs of the river, and my city on the other side. I thought of the Cincinnati Pride festival that would be held there the following day, and the involvement my fellow performers and I were denied. I looked at my troupe, exhausted, overworked, over-stressed, and emotionally injured. I was pissed off. We all worked hard, we all loved our city, and we didn’t deserve such mistreatment. Desperate for an attitude adjustment, I turned to one of my troupe members and gave myself a pep-talk: “We’re here for the community, and sometimes you have to put up with bullshit to make a difference. We’re here because we love our community.” I walked onto the stage and for the next thirty minutes I tried to forget my hurt and outrage and focused on creating something good. When you work for justice and inclusion there is only one road to take: the high road. Instead of creating a number that promoted the oppressive truth about community we have I painted a picture of the inclusive community I wished we had. (the stage was too small for us to do all of our planned movements, so some of it is a little spur of the moment). I told everyone to bring something real into it. Maybe it was the heat exhaustion or the pent up frustration or both, but by the end I unexpectedly broke down on stage. Thankfully T kept me from crying much, tears and glitter eye shadow don’t mix.

The next day I walked through the Cincinnati “Equinox” Pride festival in my home made “The First Pride was a Riot” t-shirt. I’ll admit it, despite my resentment I was glad to see that so many people had come out. It was a beautiful sight to see the city square bustling with “gay” – regardless of how white and normative that “gay” was. I lingered in the small collection of activist oriented booths – mostly national orgs; the rest were all corporate shopping. There was not a single trans focused or people of color focused organization there. I looked over the huge, wonderfully positioned stage, it only made me angry. I read over the 11 act line-up. It was clear that the issues of no having enough space were legit; I can see why there was such a stress about accommodating performers in the well over seven hours of stage time that day (surely you can sense the sarcasm, but just in case you can’t: please note the sarcasm). All the performers where queens or gay men except for the rainbow marching band and one performance group representing drag kings; a relatively new troupe that advertises itself as “the best in gender bending performance in the city” (even though few people have heard of them, so I’m curious as to where this title came from). Oh and did I mention that this troupe is run by the same person who did all the Pride performance bookings? I’m sure there is no connection between that and that there were no other kings allowed… I watched the small parade of churches, bars, companies, and non-profits; I tried to take it in, feel the pride of my community, enjoy the love I saw in front of me but it didn’t heal the hurt I was feeling. I once again found myself searching for someone like me and like years before, I never found them. I didn’t feel proud. I didn’t feel loved. I felt alone.

There are not enough trans or queer folks on this planet to ever justify non-inclusive behavior, especially in a place this conservative and oppressed. There are just not enough of us to allow prejudice, exclusion, selfishness, egoism, greed, or, most of all, failure. Notice that failure is not the same as making mistakes. This whole Pride ordeal (as it continues) is not a mistake, it is a failure; a failure to support the community, to take responsibility for mistakes; a failure at being inclusive and creating a space that everyone can take part in; a failure to listen to one’s own people, to accept hands reaching out, crying out for help, for comradeship; a failure to be proud of Cincinnati’s trans and queer community, the entire community. I am angry, I am heart broken, and while being able to conceptualize fucked up motivations of these organizers I can not rationalize them and I am finding it increasingly hard to forgive them.

I may not agree with everything Equinox Pride organizers do and I definitely abhor the way that they do it, but I recognize that they are a part of my community and therefore deserve respect and human decency. On the surface it may seem like Equinox Pride organizers feel that way too, but under the surgace there is dishonesty and egoism, privilege and separatism; these can never be constructive tools for healthy community building, no matter how good the intentions are. And despite my own good intentions this weekend I also struggled. Through my smiles I knew my composure was not as civil as I wanted it to be, I just couldn’t hold it together. I shook hands and smiled, I was polite and respectful, but I was not warm. I really tired, but like a dog on a leash I was caught, unable to pull myself from civility over into friendliness. But I also I wonder if it was better that way as a part of holding people accountable. Would I be enabling their behavior, excusing it even, if I smile warmly, embracing them like there wasn’t a problem? Or is it better to be civil and professional, yet reserved to show respect yet also recognize that the issue is there and unresolved. I wonder if I let my community down because I could not grow past my own internal hurt and anger. It is hard to keep running at a wall; pushing for inclusion and recognition, giving respect without any return, trying to love those who continue to prove that they don’t love you. And through the exhaustion, I am left with only one thought, “Why?” But this is my city. This is my home. These are my people. I am not giving up.

Cincinnati Pride; Progress or Privilege?

Today is my birthday, but I can’t say I’ve been looking forward to it – not because I’m upset about getting freakishly close to 30, but because of another event that is also falling on my birthday weekend; Cincinnati Pride.  It might seem like having Pride on your birthday is a stroke of luck – I’m alive and I’m queer, what a perfect combo of days, right? Everyone is out and ready to party, everyone except me, that is. For me, my hometown Pride is never about partying, it’s about work, frustration, anger, and disappointment. Every year it’s the same… well, every year except for one.

My first Pride was a celebration. When I came out, I didn’t know anyone gay. I didn’t know anyone queer. I didn’t know anyone trans. I wanted to find community. I took to the streets in that tiny parade of a few hundred, walking past people peppered sidewalks wearing beads and blowing bubbles. I had no money for colorful boas or identity themed t-shirts, but I treasured the little rainbow flag I got for free.

Playing dress up at my 1st pride – not pictured: my 1990s jean jacket that I wore all day

[Image: Young JAC with brown hair wearing a white sailor hat and black sailor shirt, looking at the camera and saluting with two fingers – on of which has a batman band aid on it.]

All day I searched the crowds for someone like me, someone trans, someone radical, someone queer; I never found them. Years passed. I found that the city’s prejudice and conservatism that I had been fighting before I came out was not limited to the “straight” world after all; it was in the “gay” community too. Pride came and went, but my little rainbow flag had long since been put away. Trans and queer activism had become my whole life, day in day out – what was one day of partying going to solve? Still, every June I walked past the 10am drunks, down the trash covered street to the festival; performing show after show, volunteering along street after street, all for the sake of being “visible.” Always looking for that radical queer trans kid who was seeing Pride for the first time, searching for someone like them. I wanted to make sure they found me. I stood on that street; I got up on that stage to prove that there is a place for our people in this town. And though I continually said how I hated Pride, without fail at some point during the day it would hit me; “Yes, I love this community. I’m proud of my people, our history, our success thus far…” and then in a wave of corporate floats and wrong pronouns I’d come back to reality and resentment. But you know, it’s true what they say: you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Last year, Cincinnati Pride, now called Cincinnati Equinox Pride to include the business organization that runs this community event in partnership with the Cincinnati Gay Chamber of Commerce, was a hot rocket mess of issues surrounding organizational transparency and equal representation, involvement, and inclusion of trans folks, people of color, radicals, queers, allies, and lower income communities. After many people joining in the fight for inclusion, Pride organizers continued on without any actions towards reconciliation or solutions of any kind – with the kind addition of repeated personal attacks, forgery of my name, impersonation of me over email, and literal conspiracy by what I considered to be my own people. I guess sometimes the price you pay for rocking the boat is that your comrades throw you overboard. After that, I kept my distance for a while, secretly hoping without hope that someone would email me, or anyone, about how to do things better this time around. It never happened. From my almost exiled position, I occasionally kept tabs on Pride; a queer woman patronizingly told she could be the chair’s “assistant,” a pride organizer stating that trans folks “didn’t really belong in pride anyway,” and tales about disorganization, complaints about a lack of volunteers (despite doing nothing to obtain or include folks), and the kicker, tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt.

This year Cincinnati Equinox Pride was joining some of its organizers with Northern Kentucky (NKY) Pride, a new festival celebrating its 2nd year. I figured it was a good thing to merge the Prides, since we are such an over-lapping community. NKY Pride is very welcoming of all folks and my drag troupe, The Black Mondays, had great experiences performing there last year. I hoped that NKY Pride would be a positive influence on Cincinnati Equinox Pride. I decided not to give up and take the high road. If this was going to be my city’s Pride, then I needed to try my best to do right by it. The Black Mondays contacted Cincinnati Equinox Pride organizers about getting involved and after several weeks of unanswered emails, we received notice that we would be contacted about when we were to perform. The troupe was excited. After not being welcomed (or allowed) to perform at Cincinnati Equinox Pride last year (part of the issue of inclusion), we could put it all that behind us and start fresh – though I privately said I’d believe it when I actually stepped foot on the Cincinnati Equinox Pride’s stage. As the dates flew by, we waited and waited to hear from Pride organizers, our emails again going unanswered. Finally, it turned out that we weren’t allowed to perform at Cincinnati Equinox Pride after all. Pride organizers stated that were trying to bring “national attention” to Cincinnati Equinox Pride and therefore wanted to reserve the stage for big names, putting smaller names at NKY Pride –I guess because NKY doesn’t need national attention… I explained that if Cincinnati Equinox Pride wanted big names (a totally problematic and inaccessible concept) then we were what they wanted. The Black Mondays are a nationally recognized troupe who performed all over the USA, that we had headlined at Columbus Pride for several years, had been solicited by America’s Got Talent, and that we were being featured in an HBO documentary. When they learned this (cause I guess when they said they knew all about us, they didn’t know all of that) they said that actually it was because we were so big that they wanted us at NKY, to try and build it up. When I explained that we were already invited by the NKY board to perform, but thanks for trying to hook us up. The issue at hand was Cincinnati. We were in this to help the community, and though we love NKY, our actual home is Cincinnati and we want to be in our hometown Pride. Finally, after a week of excruciatingly long, borderline begging emails, Cincinnati Equinox Pride stated that we could not perform because there was no room due to a high number of performers. Now, I don’t know how much you know about Midwestern drag and “LGB” performance/music, but this isn’t exactly a bustling scene out here. If you have multiple stages, and over 10 hours of performance time per stage, how is it possible to run out of room? Even if you gave 10 minutes per performer on both stages, that still would leave time for my mom to step up and sing off key.

As all this was going on, I reached out to my network of activists searching for help, support, a solution, anything. I found out from several trusted sources that the chair of Cincinnati Equinox Pride had made a statement about me in reference to my activist work about Pride last year. He said that he specially wanted to “avoid upsetting me.” I still don’t’ know how to feel about that, but if that isn’t having an impact I don’t know what is. But all JAC ego boosts aside, who gives a shit about upsetting me? Do well for the community because it’s the right thing to do, not because you’re afraid of getting busted by furious radical activists with great hair. Afraid of a repeat of last year, I stressed to Pride organizers that our whole motivation for wanting to perform was to promote visibility of Cincinnati drag kings, queer, femme, and trans communities; that all we wanted was to make a space for our people. They assured me that it was “taken care of.” Call me an untrusting person, but I asked around to make sure. Turned out that not a single performer I knew, king or queen, was scheduled to be on the Cincinnati Equinox Pride stage. As of today the list of performers is still unavailable to the public. In the continuing conversation about performance, the Pride organizer mentioned a show that The Black Mondays are doing tonight which is being put on by another local artist to celebrate the Pride weekend, claiming it as a Pride event because it happened to take place during the Pride bar crawl. I called them on it saying that it was not a Pride event, and it wasn’t even listed on the Pride events calendar. The next day it was posted on the website, despite there being no true affiliation. Maybe it was another move to try to “avoid upsetting me.” It didn’t work.

Through further sleuthing it came out that despite Pride being in debt and their claims of awareness of the previous years issues of unequal (or non-existent) representations, once again Cincinnati Equinox Pride organizers decided to pay expensive “big name” performers  (that no one actually knows because really, are there any real gay celebrities other than RuPaul? JK!) allowing no room for local performers – local performers who spend all year forging space in this city… We’re not a big enough deal to perform and be proud at our own Pride – though I’m positive that some local queens will get on stage since they know all the Pride organizers and… no further comment… And all these “big name” performers are brought in because Cincinnati Equinox Pride wants to get “national attention.” Now, can someone explain to me why a small city Pride needs national attention? The community doesn’t get anything out of it, unless we trying to prove to Chicago that we’re cool so we can eat lunch at the cool kid’s table. Direct from the mouths of Cincinnati Equinox Pride organizers (who are primarily businessmen from the Gay Chamber of Commerce) what they would get out of it is more traffic for their gay businesses; AKA money. But they can’t be that clever with money, considering they ran a non-profit event under a for-profit model and ended up in debt, not to mention losing a ton of sponsorship (including huge funders like Macys and Delta) due to this mismanagement. (yes, Cincinnati Equinox Pride, we do know about that.)

I bring all these issues about performance, not just because it sucks for us, but because of what it represents and proves: that Cincinnati Equinox Pride is a problematic, unqualified organization with goals not in line with what Pride is really about; community. What’s the point of a local community pride if the pride of the local community – its activists and its performers who work all year round for space, visibility, and rights are not recognized, included, or valued? If I wanted to celebrate someone else’s community, I would go to some other city’s Pride. At my hometown Pride I want to see my community, my people. And after another year of waiting, I’m still looking. Pride has no point if it is not centered on community. Pride is not about big names, fancy products, or money driven reputations. The first Pride was a riot. The first Pride was about human rights, about standing up and saying “This is who I am. I am not afraid. I am not ashamed.” To use a common community joke, size doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do and how you do it. What if Cincinnati Equinox Pride doesn’t impress other cities, is it a competition? Our people are homeless, jobless, without family support, without resources, without health care, without rights, but our “leaders” main concern is getting into pissing contests via normie, corporate crapfests. Sounds real productive.

It’s not that I don’t recognize that Cincinnati Equinox Pride organizers’ hard work – I do and I support them in trying to run Pride – a huge undertaking without a doubt, but good intentions only go so far. Our community continues to suffer and split because we do not support each other and we do not or hold each other accountable when we behave in unjust, problematic, or oppressive ways. Looking the other way or making excuses like “They mean well” or “You don’t know them like I do” is just being a part of the problem. The solution is not to kick people out of the community, not to scream at them, or to hate them, it is to say “You need to change, and I’m going to stand here and wait until you do.” It worked when my parents wanted me to eat my vegetables; Social justice to a community is like vegetables to your body – it gives you good stuff to grow strong and healthy and helps you get rid (aka poop out) all the stuff you don’t need or are better off without. (Sorry to get scatological, but it’s a good reference.) My parents made me eat vegetables because they love me. I want my community to be socially just and inclusive because I love my community, all of my community. Family is family, even when it’s a chosen one. And like any family, you won’t always get along, you won’t like everyone, but you’re still a family. We’re all different but in the end, we’re all in this together. And all of that warm fuzzy crap would work a lot better if the people in my communities who have more power than me, more privilege, would look back once in a while and remember where they came from. It wasn’t too long ago that they didn’t have it any better than I do now. I’m glad that the Cincinnati Equinox Pride folks are working hard to try and create something big and beautiful, but when you build something without the correct supports, it is bound for crumble and crushing everything beneath it.

Transphobic Katy Perry and Queer Accountability

In an interview with Rolling Stone late last month, Katy Perry is again quoted using transphobic language and promoting uneducated, transphobic mentalities. Rolling Stone removed all problematic language from all digital publications, but the quotes remain in paper print and thanks to our friends at Queerty, the information was reported on. I’m not ok with the use of “Bimbo”  in the Queerty article title, but I appreciate the remaining sentiments of the text. Queerty reports Perry saying (in reference to her fashion):

“You can’t be a full tranny every day of the week, that’s an exaggerated part of my personality.”

Ok, not to be overly aggressive here, but if I had a no tolerance policy about Katy Perry before (which I did) it has exploded into a million more. What the hell, people? Why do our queer and gay communities continue to support this person? Wake the fuck up. If we are supporting people like Katy Perry, we are not supporting trans* people. GLAAD and other “big” “gay” organizations surprisingly overlooked the issue despite being previously vigilant about Perry with her transphobic tweet last year. As many of us know, GLAAD has been a little busy lately, but that doesn’t excuse missing a red-letter incident like this. Our community has long discussed and gone over the use of the word tranny, and pop culture has recently taken interest and decided to use it too. Am I the only one confused about why people think we’re so interesting? Besides our obvious fabulousness, that is. Are non-queer folks out there using other community words as hip catch phrases? Something like: “I’m so lesbian right now.” or “That’s fag-arrific, man.” Hmmm, maybe I should start using these… This fascination with trans identities comes from the growing fascination with gender and the bending of it – and while I think its awesome that genderfucking is becoming a larger conversation with more visibility, I am terrified of how that visibility is being built, who is building it, and where they may be taking it in our culture. Trans isn’t a hip thing I do to be cool, it is my life. I can’t avoid it, and I likely would have if I could because it sure as hell isn’t easy – can’t say it isn’t glamorous, but that’s just because I’m a fucking glamorous person. (JK!) For the trans community, being trans isn’t about being fashionable or cool. It is about surviving. We squeeze the fun in afterwards, if we’re lucky enough to have room for it. Despite our struggle, which has been growing in its own visibility, people fail to find issue in the growing tokenizing and exotifying of it.

What does Katy Perry give to queers? I’m told it is some form of viability, but I’ve yet to actually see it. I’ve heard people say “I know Katy Perry is terrible, but I can’t help but like her music.” Well of course people like her music. Most pop music is manufactured for that specific purpose, to make you like it. This past winter, while at a tech rehearsal for a show I was in, I watched a drag troupe run through an awesome number to a really fun song. I didn’t know the song, but I was sure I had heard it on some oldies station at some point. Everyone in the place was singing along, just like any “classic song” that people emotionally bond to when they’re growing up. Ever self-conscious of my lack of pop culture knowledge, being born and continuing to live under a rock, I smiled at the singing, laughing faces across the bar. I wanted to be cool too… I pretended to know the song, which wasn’t hard since the lyrics were as predictable as a romantic comedy. When the number was over I discovered that the song was not a 1980s hit I just wasn’t cool enough to recognize. It was a new song and not only was it by Katy Perry, it was a Glee version of a Katy Perry song. Double Oppressor Whammy! I was embarrassed about looking like a hypocrite and I was disappointed that I could never enjoy this fun song ever again. Does it seem silly to give up something like a song? I’ll admit it, yeah, it does. But is enjoying a song  by an oppressor any different than willingly promoting any other system of oppression that I may otherwise benefit from, like white privilege? No, it’s not; its just a smaller version, a smaller cog in the bigger machine that works against you, me, and all of us in this community of underdogs. Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” may make a lot of gay people feel empowered (not me, but apparently 1000s of others.) but what about the Asian Pacific Islander folks being called “orient” in the lyrics? What about Gaga claiming the word Chola? Gay people get something out of it, but the song is fucking racist. Plus its a rip off of Madonna’s “Express Yourself”, but I digress.

I’ve gone on and on about the mistakes pop culture continues to make, as well as how our own communities don’t seem to give a damn. Is anyone else tired? I’m remembering  my bruised frustrations over the L Word series;  my anger and confusion about trans supporters enjoying a blatantly transphobic show because even though it was hurtful to trans folks, it was beneficial to them. Sometimes being accountable sucks because you have to make sacrifices, but in the end I think its worth it. I might feel a little silly protesting a song that I actually like, but deep down I feel good about it. I feel that by giving up something that I could otherwise like, I am showing myself that I am willing to go the distance for what I believe in. You can’t pick and choose what oppression to fight, it’s all or nothing, even when it’s “only a song” or “only a TV show.” Folks say “I know its bad, but it makes me feel good” but we aren’t talking about eating a whole bowl of frosting while watching bad reality TV shows about beauty pageants (yes, I do do that). We are talking about cultural messaging that hurts our friends, our family, our communities. I think if we have to give up a fun song here, and a night of TV there, it’s worth showing each other that we care enough to make a sacrifice for those we love and for good of the greater whole.

 

Gender Proof and Queers; We should know better

Yesterday I took part in Equality Ohio’s LGBT Lobby Day, a gathering of folks from all over the state descending en masse on the capital to lobby for LGBT issues. With Ohio ranking second to last in the country in terms of trans and queer rights, over all Equality Ohio is very successful in creating a safe space where our disenfranchised community can work with a conservative local government. What it hasn’t been able to provide is a safe space for our community to work with itself.

I was anxious about Lobby Day this year. My last Lobby Day experience was less than positive, but Equality Ohio leaders were surprisingly attentive to my feedback which, in addition to the over-all importance of this event, lead me to attend again, this time as a team leader. By the time the opening event was underway I was starting to feel that activist passion burning. Suddenly, I felt unfamiliar arms surround me from behind my chair and under a suffocating kiss to the side of my head I heard, “Thank you for reminding me of my daughter.” I turned to see a woman walking away from me. I remembered her… At the last Lobby Day I attended, I met this woman -correction, I never actually met her. She ran up to me, hugged me, and tearfully said, “Thank you for reminding me of my daughter.” And despite the mis-gendering and her slightly ageist tone, I was warmed by her emotion. She said her daughter was just like me: a “strong young lesbian” who dyes her hair. I didn’t correct her. I remember that year I was feeling particularly combative about my identity, and I was in no mood to out myself as trans. Besides, how do you stop a crying mother mid-sentence and tell her she’s wrong and being offensive? I didn’t want to make her feel guilty or uncomfortable – a bad habit I have when people get my gender wrong. Naturally I was irritated, she shouldn’t have assumed my gender, but I knew the conversation would end soon enough and I could walk away without facing any awkward trans identity explanations. I know now that was not the right decision.

The woman walked onto the stage, introduced as Nickie Antonio the 1st openly gay representative to ever be elected in Ohio. She started a good speech focusing on our community’s diversity, naming differences in the room of identity, faith, appearance… I knew what was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it. She raised her hand and pointed right at me. “And I’d like to especially point out the sister in the back with the fuschia hair!” Like a movie scene, all at once a couple hundred people turned and looked right at me, and there I was, outed and mis-gendered… but at least she got the hair color right… right? Sometimes gender/passing stuff rolls off my back, other times it soaks into the skin until my entire disposition is saturated in frustration, anger, and guilt. This event was the latter. Yes, I am used to this sort of thing. Like most trans and gender non-conforming folks, I experience public mis-gendering a lot – usually it isn’t over a microphone in front of a couple hundred people -though it does happen on occasion. I am used to it, but it never gets any easier, at least, it hasn’t yet. My emotional response to being mis-gendered is identical to whenever I am treated with an utter lack of respect. It makes me feel small, unimportant, disempowered, angry, and less than human. I didn’t want to be at Lobby Day anymore. I didn’t want to be anywhere other than alone. All my excitement about taking part in community, all my drive to make a difference crumbled beneath me in a heap of disappointment with my community. Representative Antonio walked back to my tabled and gave me another hug. Cradled in repulsion, I interrupted her motherly repeats speaking in my most polite voice, “I’m not a woman, I’m trans. I would appreciate it if you didn’t mis-gender me.” She took my hand apologetically, still keeping me unwillingly wrapped in her hug, “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I should know better.” Unable to think of any other response I said, “Yeah…” cutting myself off from curtly finishing with “you should.” I reeled myself in with a semi-excusatory “It’s ok, I mean, it happens all the time…” She smiled, “Oh, I’m sure.” A comment I’m sure she meant to be agreeable, but it had the opposite effect. She mentioned how her partner was mis-gendered all the time “but in the other direction,” which only strengthened the argument that she really should have known better.

I spoke to a head Equality Ohio organizer, who I deeply respect, about the incident. This organizer, in hearing who the offender was, also said that “[Antonio] should know better.” which was a positive validation of my experience. However this validation was short lived. The organizer asked me whether I had made my identity known to Antonio, and when I said no they presented the argument that if someone doesn’t know any better, and I don’t correct them, then it isn’t their fault… which I guess would make this whole situation my fault.  So, I guess it doesn’t matter that Antonio should have known better because I wasn’t properly announcing myself. I don’t think this organizer was actively trying to say that it was my fault that I was grossly and publicly mis-gendered, but they did seem visibly confused as to why I would be upset that I was mis-gendered when I appeared to do nothing to stop it. I explained that I shouldn’t have to introduce myself identity label first just on the off chance someone might get confused, especially if I am in what is supposed to be a community safe space. Do gender conforming people have to consistently tell people their gender? No, they don’t, they just get the right language applied and go on their merry way. But because I am not visibly aligned to one gender or another, it is up to me to out myself compulsively, or else just not get offended when someone plays fast and loose with whatever label they choose for me.

Gender non-conforming people is have to re-assert our identity every moment of every day; when we meet a new friend, when we’re on a date, when we’re at work, when we’re at the grocery store, when we use a public bathroom… Eventually you have to make a choice; either you’re going to lighten up or you’re gonna burn out – for a lot of us the second is the result of the first. So no, I do not correct someone every time I’m called “she” or “lady” or “a young lesbian.” And because of that, is it my fault when someone mis-genders me? No it’s not, it’s the fault of a society that breeds people to see in a black and white gender-scape. I don’t automatically think that someone who mis-genders me is transphobic and out to get me, but depending on the person and the situation, I may think that the person is careless, irresponsible, or just plain lazy. Contrary to popular belief, it is not hard to be polite about gender. To quote the opening plenary from todays lobby day session  “Don’t tell me what you believe. Show me what you do and I’ll tell you what you believe.”(quote attributed to an unknown Mississippi civil rights leader). Ironically, this was said right after I was mis-gendered in front of everyone. If people really care about trans folks and really know better than to disrespect us, they why don’t they do it? It’s true that when you are running an event, it is impossible to control what every participant says or does, however you can do a lot to promote safe spaces and educate folks who just don’t know any better. Activist leaders should lead by example by educating themselves and through inclusive language and behavior. An event like Lobby Day should have a brief spoken introduction to involve participants in promoting safes spaces, to use inclusive language, and to be cautious of their own privileges. And if the event has speakers or guests, talk to them about safe spaces and request that they follow the guidelines necessary to continue that safety and inclusion. Everyone is afraid of talking about privilege, but all recognizing privilege is, is recognizing our own humanity: our ability to make a mistake and our own responsibility to correct it. We are supposed to be striving for “equal rights” but if we can’t even form equality within our own spaces, how are we supposed to accomplish it in the rest of the world? I don’t expect anyone to be perfect, but I do, as I suppose anyone does, hold my community up to a higher standard. I would like to think we know better.

Baltimore McDonalds Attack on Transwoman Not About Trans?

An additional blog about the recent attack on a transwoman in a Baltimore McDonalds last week. There have been multiple ralliesvigils and petitions held to support the trans community as well as efforts to hold McDonalds accountable. And with all the efforts, new information has risen about what the motivation was for the attack. All of our first impressions were, as would be expected, that it was about transphobic oppression, especially because it started in a bathroom. But what if trans status was not the root of the issue? And if it wasn’t, why is everyone continuing to talk about TRANS?

Many articles are publishing that statement and comments by the survivor has supported it. However, in a video interview, she clearly states that the two women attacked her out of jealously and rage stating that the two girls” just wanted to pick a fight that night.” It was an attack over turf, not gender.  Two young women (one 18 and one 14) have been arrested, neither of which have made any statement for or against the idea it was a “hate crime” or transphobicly motivated attack. The Mcdonalds employee who did the filming has been fired – as well as having made quite an impression on the internet community with of his transphobic tweets and comments– all of which he has now removed and recanted on, but not without continuing to use the wrong pronouns…

Whether this event was originally sparked by transphobia or not, the subsequent treatment of trans identities following this event still supports my previous statements about trans folks positioning in society. Furthermore, if trans identity had nothing to do with this, why is everyone talking about how this woman is trans? And before that, does this woman even call herself trans or are we labeling her? Equality Maryland -for some reason- is continually mentioned in articles as the representative authority to assure everyone that the survivor is a “transgender woman.” The woman herself has made statements that she has dealt with oppression because of her gender identity and gender related transition, but I’ve found no statements of her saying she identifies as trans.  Several articles addressing the assault also felt the need to discuss her “sex change”  and/or her past name, even though contextually it has nothing to do with anything else in the article. Yes, this woman is gender variant/trans/gender non-conforming, but what the hell does that have to do with this? Two women attacked another woman… where does trans come in here? Well, I guess we need to make sure everyone knows she’s not a “REAL” woman, she’s trans. Lets be sure to focus on that so there’s no mistaking her for someone “normal.” Its all just more gender-obsession and exotifying trans folks as an othered population. We’re so different, so magical, so fascinating that we need to dive into all the gritty details of difference. No chance of going about it as if trans folk were just as human as anyone else.

I’m not negating that trans/gender non-conforming folks are more risk than people who are not trans for violence and discrimination. Notice I haven’t made any “we’re just like you” or “we’re all equals” or any similar bullshit comments. The reality is that we don’t have an equal playing field here. Still, and at risk of opening a can of worms, part recognizing that trans folk deserve equal recognition via humanization is recognizing that sometimes we might get attacked for reasons other than the fact we’re trans. If I got beaten up, I don’t know whether it would be a relief or a let down to learn that it wasn’t about me being trans. Sure enough, a transphobic attack would (hopefully) get the community walking and talking which is always needed (though an attack shouldn’t be necessary to make it happen) but if I was attacked because someone was being a jerk, I wonder if it would it be some sort of weird, included-feeling relief that I was read as a “normal person” by my attacker… Weird way to think about passing politics…

And while situation likely had little or nothing to do with the woman being trans, it doesn’t change the fact that this really does happen to trans folks every day. So lets not forget it.

 

Transwoman publicly beaten for trying to use bathroom; No One Helped

This is a follow up from a Bilerico post about a transwoman who was brutally and repeatedly beaten and dragged across the floor in a Baltimore McDonalds because she tried to use the bathroom. She received no help. Instead the employees watched and filmed it on their phones as she was been beaten so badly she had a seizure.

There is a video, but (TRIGGER WARNING) I will summarize for those who prefer not to watch the 3 minute long ordeal of two women relentlessly beating a (trans) woman, who tried to stand her ground, covering her head and screaming to be left alone. The employees stand at a distance filming the event on their phone. The attackers are separated from the woman several times, giving the manager and employees enough time to force the attackers to leave, help the shocked, attacked woman, and call the police. None of this happens. The two attackers are able to repeatedly hit, punch, pull, kick, and drag the woman across the entire restaurant where she begins to seize. The employees point and say she needs help, but do nothing as her limp body uncontrollably bangs against the floor, wall, and garbage can. The manager watches the attackers walk out and steps over the woman’s convulsing body, not even looking down at her.

The video; I decided not to post it out of concerns for whether or not I was supporting some exploitation or non-consensual filming, but I can to the conclusion that the visibility is important. I will link to it – this for one reason, to illustrate the lack of humanity here.  If we shut our eyes to these things, we’re ignoring them. It is extremely violent and possibly triggering. Please be sure to take care of yourself. Before you watch it, know its likely that you’re gonna have this image stuck in your head for a while.

It’s horrifying, and it shows my jaded disposition that I’m not at all fucking surprised by this. Of course she got the shit beat out of her for simply trying to use the bathroom. Of course people made little to no effort to stop her attackers. Of course she was leered and pointed at like an object. And of course the video was posted online as some form of entertainment. At least they used the right pronoun when they were pointing at her shaking body on the floor. Should we feel grateful for that? Do I just not trust non-trans people? No, I don’t, plain and simple. Why should I? Every time I use a public bathroom this is honestly what I expect to happen to me. Am I paranoid? Well in order for me to be paranoid I would have to have an irrational fear, a fear of something unlikely to happen. Based on my history of being harassed in bathrooms, and the everyday example laid out for us right here, being attacked seems pretty fucking likely to me. I’m not paranoid, I’m just plain scared.

Watching this, I’m more angry than anything else. Angry this woman had to go through this, angry that even with laws and maybe even with non-gendered bathrooms, this shit isn’t gonna stop until society gets its act together. This is the state of our people. We are dehumanized by society because we are different, because we are ourselves. Would these people had acted differently if the woman being attacked was not trans? Possibly;  it is clear that the well being of another person, a person being heinously attacked, was none of their concern. But we don’t know because she is trans, and this did happen. The other night in an interview with some young activists I was asked what I hoped to see happen for the trans community in the next ten years. I answered that I wanted to see trans folk recognized fairly in global society, be recognized as human. Our people can’t fucking wait another ten years, and still I don’t know if ten years is going to be enough time to make it happen…

So when people;  bar hoppers, professors, administrators, bosses, politicians, activists, even friends and family say that LGB is enough, that the laws are enough, that we don’t need non-gendered spaces, that there aren’t enough of us to make changes, spending money worth it…  that what we have now is “good enough” – show them this fucking video and remind them that this happens every day, people see it every day, and every day people look the other way, everyday people treat us as less than human.

You can contact Mcdonalds about this event to share your thoughts. Also, I want to give a special shout out toBil Browning of Bilerico, a blogger who continually works to support the trans community and our movement.

View UPDATES on this event.

Queer Blog States We Can “Live Without Queer People of Color”

Last night, in the period of a few hours, the blog Queering posted a series of comments about people of color’s inclusion and, at one point, actively supported racially exclusionary language. It started when an anonymous reader asked if the vintage style, erotic-themed queer photo blog had interest in posting pictures of queer people of color:

Not the best first answer, but at worst, its nothing more than bratty. I do find it weird that queer people of color is in “quotes.” Likely the blogger, like so many others, had simply never heard this internationally used community descriptor before and perhaps needed to put it in quotes to… legitimize it…? Soon after, Queering stated their lack of people of color postings was not because they were “a racist or a discriminator” they just didn’t “have much any contact with ‘black culture’ whatsoever…” A familiar, and surely well intended explanation. Honestly, I don’t know how no “contact” with people of color means you wouldn’t, at some point, post a pretty picture of one… Another reader suggested that vintage/style photos of queer people of color are hard to find. I was lucky to find a handful in my search. I googled a “gay [people of color group] vintage erotica photo” and only found a couple hundred results in various styles commonly seen in Queering’s (white) photo posts.

Now, some bloggers have a thicker skin than others. When I get a comment that disagrees with me (or is downright horrible), I post it, promote a discussion, eat some candy, and move on with life. Not only did Queering not post any dissenting opinions, it played the classic “its my blog and I’ll cry if I want to, everyone just hates me” card.  Queering’s response (below) was originally shorter and without the bold text, but I sent in my comments (PS which included the phrase “this is not from hate, but a place of love for our community…”) the response was updated to what is listed here. “Hate speech” was kept and they added a little shout out to me in reference to a particularly offensive post, along with an assumed female pronoun for me (nice). For a “queer” blog, there seems to be a lack of understanding basic trans/genderqueer etiquette. Maybe my username, MidwestGenderQueer, did not communicate my identity to clearly enough…

Every blogger has a right to free speech (or free choice of what to post). It’s worth mentioning that it is a common ethical blogging guideline that unless a comment is spam, violent, hateful/discriminatory, or a flame/troll, you always post it. Also, well intentioned or not, you never delete something you wrote. You cross it out and correct yourself, but you do not delete it with the goal of maintaining the permanency (and accountability) of online writers. It seems to me that Queering (somehow) didn’t see anything wrong with how they were handling things until so many people complained that they panicked – chaning language and deleting the most offensive post that proved they actively agreed with racist sentiments. But another thing they didn’t count on is that I suspected that might happen so I immediately print-screened the page, preserving it forever.

“That’s the Spirit! Lets do whatever we want and maybe all those people of color will either have to get with the program or disappear.” Its the same song and dance white people have been doing for 100s of years… but its excusable because its OUR blog, our organization, our conference, our bar, our festival, our community… Queering and many of its followers, seem more interested in not being “told what to do” than worrying about if they are being racist. I’m sure these people have good intentions, and often times non-inclusion is accidental , but that is because white folks have the privileged ability to forget about race. It is only when we are confronted with the question of inclusion that we are reminded of our behavior and scramble to make excuses for why it is not our fault.  Just because the post was deleted does not mean the mentality that originally agreed with it was. Queering actively decided to post and support a racist statement. Maybe Queering didn’t realize they were being racist, but if that is the case it really says something…

As I’ve said about 200 times on this blog, I feel that in order to accomplish equality, we can not fight amongst ourselves . We must stand together. That said, I will not stand by while one part oppresses another. I believe in standing up for my community and my community is not complete without people of color. A hit to people of color is a hit on everything our community (supposedly) stands for – pride, unity, equality, justice, access. Yes, I believe in solidarity, and it is in solidarity that we have to challenge each other in our privileges and recognize the importance of all members of our queer community.

Threats to “Women’s Rights” Step on Trans Toes

The recent legislative and funding threats to abortion rights, sexual assault, and sexual health (aka Planned Parenthood) have been described as an attack on women’s health. I do not agree with this… at least not in full. I have been getting a surge of petition and action emails from the sexual health organizations I work with, and I’ve been working hard to get the word out. The problem is that in order for me to spread the word I have to change the word being spread – one word in particular, the word woman.

I am a survivor of sexual assault. I need health care specific to a female assigned sex. I am also not a woman. I can’t help but find it frustrating when issues that affect me are, pretty much without exception, stated to be only for women. To be clear, I do not feel any discomfort being associated with women in any sense due to some masculine hang up or personal insecurity. Its just the simple reality that I am not a woman, and therefore I feel I should not be considered one in order to be included in legislation, or in this case, activist work. I wanted to re-blog an activist call from an inclusive femme blog about sexual health that, in theory, spoke to my experience. However I soon realized that the caption only discussed women.  I felt really invalidated and as I replaced each “women” with “people” I felt even less included and more alone. Its like showing up to a rally for your rights only to be met a the door and told, “This doesn’t involve you.” No, I am not a woman, but these are my rights too and I’m willing to fight for them.

I continue to struggle to understand the opacity of people’s though processes when it comes to sexual assault work. Women are not the only survivors out there. And if I, a guy, need sexual assault resources, where do I go? Everything is focused on women’s health, provided by Women’s Centers, and is advertised as a women’s space (my city’s rape crisis center is called “Women Helping Women”). What if I’m a guy who also has a female assigned body? What if a woman does not have a female assigned body? What about people who are outside the social, sexual, or gender identity binary? According to our culture, not only do resources for these survivors not exist, we, the survivors ourselves, don’t exist. You might be thinking, “Ok, but abortion is still a women’s issue.” Or is it? Some trans guys and genderqueers can and do get pregnant, which means that sometimes they may need abortion related care and emergency contraceptives.  Transguys and genderqueer folks also need to go to the gynecologist or may need birth control – things associated with “women’s health” but none of us are women.

Its not that I don’t understand and appreciate woman-focused language; women are a primary population here and historically activism surrounding these issues has been lead by and focused on women. But the reality is that while women are super important, transfolks, genderqueers, and (respective to sexual assault only) non-trans men are equally important. It affects our bodies just as much as the bodies of women. I am not saying that there are not challenges specific to women or that “women’s rights” should never be used. I just think it should be used when its appropriate, and it this is not one of those times. MoveOn.org wrote a nice break down of various proposed legislation oddly titled “Top 10 Shocking Attacks from the GOP’s War on Women.” I say oddly titled because most of the list is about the greater community, not just women. I realize that this is a spin to get readers, but this spin is highly problematic. Yes, I see the correlation of the gendered concept of women and children, but doesn’t that further reinforce the cultural expectations this article is arguing against? At one point it lists sexual violence as a “gendered crime.”

What is a “gendered crime?” Is this saying that rape is an attack on cultural womanhood? Because womanhood cannot be defined outside of they very stereotypes and cultural expectations we are battling. And not only women are sexually assaulted so it can’t be solely a “crime” on the woman gender. Perhaps the language they are looking for is “sexualized” not “gendered,” in other words assuming gender identity based on sex stereotypes. But rape isn’t about sex drives it is about power via sexualized weaponry so… gah, my brain is exploding trying to make sense of this! I guess its just that people who wrote this think that rape = attacked woman, and that = problem.

Sexual health, sexual assault, children, elders, education; these are not only women’s issues. These are human issues. There is a big difference between the phrase “women’s rights” and “human rights” and that difference is inclusion. I don’t think that saying “human rights” negates women’s involvement or autonomy. Granted, I am not a woman, but I am a fellow oppressed minority and a fellow human being. Women’s rights are equally as important to me as my own therefore I do not feel the need to differentiate between their rights and mine. I am not naive about the anthropomorphic system we live in but by limiting ourselves with gendered language we are promoting yet another form of oppression, except this time instead of a boys club its a girls club. Gendering political issues about our bodies feeds cultural expectations creating major obstacles to accessing health care, obtaining research, and founding/protecting legislation. I’m glad that people are talking about these topics but if we are only talking about women then we are missing a big chunk of the conversation. By de-gendering our language we can easily be inclusive and fight for everyone’s rights. My body does not define my identity any more than one word changes the reality of what my body needs or has experienced. I am a man, I am a survivor. I am in need of female assigned sexual health care. I am a human being who deserves rights. And I am not the only one.

“Focus and Acceptance of ALL Families”

Marsha Aizumi, mother of a transguy, discussing the value of supportive parenting and social and governmental inclusion of trans/queer communities. She made this video in response to her city’s mayor inviting a Focus on the Family representative to a city sponsored community event. Marsha is the amazing mother of a very good friend of mine and she continues to inspire me.

Marsha’s voice is the voice I want to hear from my local community, but rarely do. Can you imagine what the world would be like if all parents, if all people were like her? And what’s more, imagine if everyone took the initiative to stand up for what they believe in and fight for the people they love. Please do what you can to spread Marsha’s message and help her in her work.