Tag: health care

TDoR: Why This is Our Present and Why We Must Look Towards the Future

Posted on by JAC

Today is Trans Day of Remembrance; what day could be more fitting for me to wake my sleeping blog and make a firey comeback.

Earlier today, I saw a post pop up in my Facebook feed from a local organization promoting Trans Awareness Week by advertising a blog post by social worker from a local hospital which houses a trans youth clinic. The clinic itself is, after a bumpy and I’m just be up front and say it, trans-exclusionary launch, overall doing good things for the trans community and I am always glad to hear happy clinic stories from trans youth who attend my programs. I am glad the clinic exists, but it is no secret that I oppose how the clinic functions. Mired in monolithic hospital bureaucracy and archaic versions “best practice,” the well-meaning providers do their best to provide affirming care. Working in a system that requires pathologization they tell me they aim for it to be as non-pathologizing as possible. So, when a blog like this crosses my path, I find it difficult to not comment on how in a movement with a growing number of non-trans (cisgender) allies, even well-intentioned work can still easily contribute to trans oppression. It is fair to say that this specific article is no different from what we see in Huffington Post, talking about trans kids and how we should care about them (good stuff), describing trans with the strict binary myth where boys like “girl stuff” and girls like “boy stuff (yeah, that is not good stuff), and then (with clearly good intentions) aligning the trans experience with inherent dysphoria, depression and suicide (No. Unacceptable). One of the primary reasons trans people experience violence and discrimination is because we are stigmatized as being mentally ill. Mental illness is considered a curse in our society, making those of use with it to be less than. Trans people are considered less than human for many reasons, and pathologization is a big one. If we continue to promote narratives of mental illness, even in the most loving ways, it is still oppressive. You can spank a child with love, but that child has still been hit.

As I mentioned above, but feel the need to mention again: Today is Trans Day of Remembrance. This day exists because trans people, specifically trans women and gender non-conforming people of color, are murdered and exposed to violence at dehumanizing rates. Violence comes in many forms: physical, emotional, psychological, institutional, cultural… Yes, being shot, beaten, raped, molested, this is violence. Do we consider it violence when a kid can’t go home because, though he never gets hit, he doesn’t feel safe or loved? Do we consider it violence when a person struggling with depression cannot find a trans accepting counselor, and so goes without? Is it violence when a child is raised by a family who psychologically mutilates them because they think that their trans identity is a curse from the devil? Is it violence when that child grows up maladjusted, homeless, and hurting? Is it violence to have no access to employment because of discrimination, forcing a person must make a life on the street through drugs and non-consensual sex work? Is it violence when addiction takes a life after years of trying to mask the pain of societal rejection and a never ending fight for resources that don’t exist?  Is it violence when a trans person dies from a disease that could have been cured if they only could have accessed better healthcare? All of this is violence. All of it.

The trans community is powerful, with powerful leaders like Sylvia Rivera and Marsha Johnson to lead the way for us. The reason the trans community has not grown more established like the HRC and “Gay and Lesbian” groups is due to more than the discrimination we experienced in the “Gay Rights” movement. It is because as “progress” came and privilege arrived for many, trans people are still focusing on basic survival. We cannot organize a movement; gather to fight a war for ourselves if we are distracted by violence and the need to survive. In the last two years, I have told people that the reason I haven’t been blogging or touring, is because I’ve been busy building my non-profit, finishing grad school, and working to become a therapist for trans people. This is the truth, but only a small portion of it. The reason my presence has been sinking from blogging, community projects, making new programs, and visiting social scenes is because I have been struggling to make it. After nearly nine years of feeding both myself and a growing a one-person trans organization from the same tour-schedule paycheck, poverty and burn-out caught up with me. And as it did, a genetic medical issue sent me to the emergency room: my blood pressure dropped and, near death, I was rushed to surgery, but not before giving a nurse my business card for her trans niece. This was pre-Affordable Care Act and I have accrued large amounts of medical debt. I couldn’t afford to not work through my recovery period. My PTSD, inflamed by almost dying, went untreated because I could not find a therapist (or afford one) who was competent, or willing, to work with trans people. Within six months, a former member of the trans support group I run started aggressively stalking me, the continuation of what had already been a two year ordeal. I went months without reaching out for help because the only support organization for stalking, “Women Helping Women,” has a terrible reputation among trans and queer people and I could not cope with facing transphobia in the state I was in. The police, unfamiliar with trans needs, offer me a mix of supportive and scarring interactions; the courts, horrific and stale, continue to lead me through hoop after hoop, with wrong pronouns and problematic language stinging me with every step. Even if I was not trans this would be hard, but I found that being trans created more barriers than I ever expected. I was extremely fortunate to eventually find a survivor advocate who works with me even though it isn’t part of her job description because there is no one else who knows how. Over the last year, she has been working hard to try and find trans resources for me to cope with my depression, anxiety, and PTSD, but ironically, every referral she got was the same: “You have a trans client? The best resource is JAC Stringer.” I reached out to people in the community for support with minimal success, teaching me the lesson that if I want people to really pay attention to the violence I experience as a trans person, I have to be dead. And, I believe very strongly that if I were not a person with white colored skin and an education, I likely would be dead already. After all, I am 30 years old and the average life expectancy for trans person is between 23 and 30.

Beloved friends, first let me tell you that I am safe in my own home, and that I am hoping this stalking case will continue to improve. Next, I want you to know I tell you these things not to scare you or to upset you; I certainly do not tell you so that I might hear more guilt inducing pleas of “Why didn’t you tell me?” I expose myself here to show that even the trans people you may think are the strongest, are fighting to survive every day. We are all in this together and we must keep working to make all forms of trans violence a thing of the past, not a crippling reality of the present. So many times, I have said to myself, “How the hell can I support my people when I can barely support myself? How can I meet your needs when I am struggling to care for my own?” And the accompanying guilt of cutting programs, cutting work hours, delaying projects all of which I know will be felt by the trans community all because I had no choice but to take care of myself. This is why the trans community looks as it does: because when you are in the front lines, you get shot. It takes time for the medic of self-care to reach you and in the time you are healing, there is one less person fighting.

As more non-trans (cisgender) folks join the movement who are not partners, who are not parents- the non-trans people who are outside the trans community, I am happy, I am excited, and I am skeptical. It is still hard for me to believe that those who ignored us for so long can turn the page and suddenly care at all, let alone care enough to do the work. It is hard to accept the embrace of those who once told me “we don’t want you here.” It is hard to understand how people can offer to help you, but when you need them most, they still turn away as if nothing has changed. Last week, Cincinnati HRC held a press conference to celebrate that the National HRC has awarded the city a 100% score for being, I donno, good to LGBTQ people – I don’t know how their sticker system works. This was awarded because the city, thanks to the work of a specific trans woman, now includes trans health care for city employees. This is indeed a great accomplishment, but to acknowledge it Cincinnati HRC did not invite any trans organizations to the press conference, or contact any trans leaders to ask for feedback, statements, or even just to attend. I found out about the press conference via a lucky connection; told them I was coming, but a week later when I arrived at the location it was empty. I later found out that the event had been moved but no one bothered to call me. I tried to reach out to the HRC, but still I have gotten no reply, no apology. But on the bright side, Cincinnati now has a 100% HRC score. Cincinnati, which does not have an LGBTQ Center, or an LGBTQ health clinic, or an LGBTQ inclusive adult shelter, or a trans inclusive anything… Cincinnati, where our LGBTQ population is riddled with black tar heroin, Hepatitis and HIV/AIDS, survival sex work, racism, poverty, homelessness, – but we have a 100% with the HRC. And I am considered “inflexible” and even “hostile” when I hesitate to work with these people. But, I am still willing to try… Tonight, instead of standing beside my community in mourning and reflection over the countless lives lost to trans-centered violence, I accepted an invite to speak to several hundred social workers at the NASW conference. The state chapter is giving me an award, but I continue to ask myself why. How much does the NASW, or your average social worker, know about trans needs? When I seek help for trans people, I find them to know very little. When I seek help for myself, I find them to know even less. And yet, here I am, a trans person, presented with an opportunity to thank them for recognizing me, a white skinned, educated person, on behalf of the work I do to address their offensive and insulting lack of service to my people. I know I should be grateful that they are finally paying attention, at least a little bit. I should not chastise those who are late to the game because at least they showed up. I know these people are trying, but how can I forgive them? Honestly, I don’t know if I ever fully will, but I am willing to welcome those who want to help, not just because we need it, but because I want it. I want help from any good person willing to give it and I am grateful. As for the ceremony, I am using the opportunity to change minds and shake hearts to the point of bursting. The way I see it, as long as I am alive, I will be fighting – and yes, I mean to use the word FIGHT with all the aggression and power behind it. I will fight on the streets; I will fight in the schools; I will fight in faith places; I will fight at the powwow; I will fight in the hospital room; I will fight from my sickbed; I will fight until the breath has left me… Make no mistake; this is not because I am a hero. It is not because I am strong, or inspiring, or special. It is because I do not have a choice. None of us trans people do, no matter how many hurdles we may jump or how easy our life may feel, when one of us is oppressed, we are all oppressed. If one of us is murdered, a piece of us all is dead.

Earlier this year, a young woman named Tiffany Edwards was murdered just a few miles from where I grew up. She was a trans woman of color, young and aspiring to lead a creative life of self-expression. When she was murdered, I found part of my grief was selfishly oriented towards me. I felt guilty that this woman, who had contacted our organization a couple times, had so few resources. I felt that her death was proof of how little I have done, and can do, to help our people. I know this was grief talking. I try very hard to remind myself that the work of countless activists like me matters. Racism and poverty are a form of transphobia. Transphobia is a form of violence. Violence is with us every day, but it is my hope that someday it won’t be like this. It is my hope that someday, as soon as possible, trans people, specifically the young women who come after Tiffany, will have a better life. We have to work to support ourselves, and each other, as trans people. I believe that non-trans people will, and must be, a part of our movement. And in that belief, I am hopeful that they will educate themselves against the outdated narratives and exclusionary practices that they have been used to. The people who come after us will have, must have a better life. Recently, my adopted kid (now 19) started T, and while it wasn’t a perfect or oppression free scenario, it was exponentially easier and safer for him than it was for me. I told him, “This is why I do what I do. It’s for you, so you don’t have to grow up to be like me.” Every time I see him with his friends, or hear him speak about his passions and dreams, I am reminded that there is more to come. And so today, as you think about Tiffany and the countless lives lost, look towards the future. We must never forget those we have lost, we must fight for those with us today, and we must build a better future.

In solidarity.

Tracing Trans Years: 6 Years on T

Tracing Trans Years: 6 Years on T

Posted on by JAC

Six years ago today I started taking T. In my moments of reflection on this date, certain things stand out to me. The anxiety leading up to the day, the sleepless night before, driving to the doctor in my best friend’s beat up car… the face of the nurse when she refused my care… crying in the empty waiting room. I was 22. Four months before that I had called the doctor, introducing myself through a thorough history of trans pathologization and why I deserved transitional health care without a gender identity disorder diagnosis or mandated therapy. After sitting through the typical barrage of trans questions asking how I “knew,” when did I know, and why, if I really wans trans, I wasn’t what they expected, I got my script for T. I setup my appointment to get my first shot on the morning of Sept 4th. When the T came in the mail, I left the box unopened, sitting on my dresser, waiting… It was like a creature there to save me, or to destroy me, or both. It was the egg of my body’s phoenix.

I watched the nurse’s face as she spoke awkwardly, “Actually, the doctor said we aren’t going to do this today…”

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the breaking stress from the build up, maybe it was crushing disappointment, maybe it was my exhaustion after a night awake crying and writing… I broke down and cried right in front of her. As soon as I could speak I said, “I want to talk to my doctor.”

“She isn’t here….”

“Where is she? This appointment has been set for a month. Why didn’t anyone tell me this was going to happen? Get my doctor on the phone.” I said, “I want to talk to my doctor.”

I paced the grey nurse’s break room, clutching the plastic hospital phone. My exhausted despair had given way to my primary defense mechanism: anger. I was ready to fight. “You’re my doctor.” I said, “You’re supposed to help me. I told you I wasn’t going to do therapy. I don’t need therapy because I’m trans. I know who I am and I’m not going to pay some uneducated “professional” $200 an hour to tell me why I’m not normal.”

The doctor’s voice was diffident and anxious. I still remember the sound of her voice as she tried to placate me, saying how GID therapy was for the good of trans people and that she was trying to help me.  “I don’t want help if it means giving up what I know is right for me.” I said, “I can’t walk around fighting a system that I’m feeding into. I can’t do it and it isn’t fair for you to ask me to do it. This isn’t fair.” I’ll never forget the insulted shock I felt as I heard the doctor say, “Well, maybe you can just not tell anyone…” I gathered myself and said, “What kind of health care is this? You want me to be forced into therapy I don’t need, and now you’re telling my to lie about it – to lie to all my friends, my family, and the people I work to help… I don’t think you understand what you are doing here.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe…”

“Safe? You do know I have this T in my hand right now and I could just go out into the parking lot and shoot up, with no guarantee I’m doing it safely or properly. I’m here, in a doctor’s office, looking for support and education on how to care for myself properly and you are turning me away. I want you to know that if I end up at risk, it is because of you and your inability to rise above the outdated notions you were taught that trans people are mentally unfit. I can respect your professional boundaries, but I can’t respect any institution that would rather put a person at risk than bend to the idea that it might be wrong.”

Obviously, since I am writing this post six years later, I got my shot that day. With the support of friends, and a little help from some bodybuilding websites, I took my first shot. Like most people in the trans* community, I learned as I went and took what I could get. I was privileged to have had access to T in the first place; to have been able to save up money from my shit job to afford it; to have access to a computer where I could get reliable medical information; to have a community of friends who were there for me when I felt like I had no one else. With all that happened, I was pretty lucky. I consider myself lucky to have had it better than a lot of our people, especially those who are affected by racism, poverty, globalization… the list goes on.

I was looking through my pictures to find the quintessential pre/post photos that I (and almost every trans* person) loves to put in their blogs. Instead, I found one of my absolute favorite pictures of me ever. It is from when I was 17, on a high school photography club trip to Red River Gorge hiking the Natural Bridge trail. My disability made it so I couldn’t take the trail as fast as everyone else, it made me feel weak. I didn’t have a lot of friends and I was afraid of socializing with the other kids cause they tended to tease me, so I hung in the back of the group near my teacher, Mr. Ferguson. I remember walking the steep trail, looking up at the trees, and just feeling the energy of the forest. I remember feeling very alone, but it is hard to feel too along when you are in the woods.  I sat in a shady spot near the top of the bridge; I changed my roll of film and got out the same lunch I eat every time I travel: PB&J sandwich and an apple. I watched the other kids goofing off and talking a few yards from me; I felt invisible, but in a mix of positive and negative ways. The leaves were changing. I enjoyed the silence and the view. Mr. Ferguson’s voice broke my thoughts, “Hey, Alice,” he gestured with his wide, closed palm arm wave,  “Come over here. I’ll take your picture.”

JAC2001

Two weeks ago, I walked that trail again. I looked up at the trees and felt the energy of the forest. I still took it slow, climbing the rocks and roots behind the others, but I had some fast moving company: a 17 year old I’ve had the pleasure working with for a couple years now. He goes to the same high school I did, and is in a lot of the same clubs, but unlike my high school self, he is out as trans*. I didn’t even know what trans* was when I was that age. I see a lot of myself when I see him, but he’s much more impressive. He was much more animated on the trail that I was 12 years ago; he was excited to be with trans* community, racing up the path with other transboys, climbing on everything in sight (much to my anxiety’s displeasure).  I hung back and enjoyed the walk and the views. I get so over-saturated with work now days… or really, I’ve been so over-saturated with work ever since I came out. When I came out, I took to trans* activism and never looked back. Sometimes that meant I didn’t stop to look around either. If I can take a lesson from the me of 6 years ago, it is to use the same care and attention to my process as I did back then. I used to write a lot more; do more photography; I used to dance more. Looking back, though I was afraid and anxious about making the right or wrong move for myself or my life, I did a lot to keep in touch with who I was and what I was feeling. I’m not one for making resolutions based on some event or special date, but I do like to make clear decisions surrounding change. It is important to keep myself in touch with what progress I need to make. When I was 17, I was afraid of most of the world. When I was 22, I was angry with most of it. I don’t know how much progress I’ve made since 22, lol, but I hope it is at least some. At 29, I am hopeful that I am continuing to improve myself, and to know myself. And I am grateful that I have the ability to live as I do, and work as I do, so that the folks that come after me might not be so anxious, or so angry. So, here’s to the continual fight for trans* liberation and the gift of slowing down to see the journey there.

JAC2013

 

Day of Action: Stop Medical Oppression of Trans* Communities

Posted on by JAC

I’ll be the first to admit that I have high standards. A cupcake shop recently opened up in my city, and I finally got to stop by. I took a bite and got a wash of disappointment from the flavorless, cake-mix mound in my hands. I knew it seemed silly to be so upset over a cupcake, but if I’m going to spend $2.50 on a cupcake, it better be a fucking awesome cupcake. If I’m going to spend time, energy, and money on something, it better be worth it. Same goes with life, if someone is going to try to give something to me, I’ll only take it if it is worth taking; if I’m going to live my life, I’m going to make it worth living.

Trans* gets dressed up a lot now days, from Chaz Bono to TV characters, the public is becoming more and more interested in our community, one way or another. And as conversations about trans* identities grow, what isn’t being said is one of the most important issues we face; the fact that around the world trans* and gender variant people are considered to be mentally ill. We are told we have Gender Identity Disorders (GID), a disempowering system that promotes the continual stigmitization of mental health variance and the pathologization of difference. The result is a continual lack of access, safety, education, and inclusion on a global scale. After 30 years a growing outcry from trans* and non -trans* communities have pushed medical and social organizations to slowly, but surely, denounce GID. Last month the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH) relaxed the Standards of Care for trans patients in an attempt to minimize pathologization and increase access; a significant change but not a solution.  In 2012, the global psychiatric community plans to maintain trans* people’s place in the list of mental health conditions through a revised version of GID called Gender Dysphoria (or Gender Incongruence -see also GD in Children) and an even more problematic version of  Transvestic Disorder. WPATH quotes these changes as “a step in the right direction” but to me, and for many others, a step in the right direction is not enough movement. At this point, we are beyond taking steps. We are ready for a jump. I know what you’re thinking – we can’t just jump in unprepared, and I agree. The truth is that we are prepared. We have been working internationally to create policies to medicalize care and provide regulation, accessibility, and safety for a new age of trans* health.

This is about more than health care; This is an issue about quality of life; about respect, justice, and humanity. It is about the fact that trans* people are not allowed to be ourselves without the consent of someone else. We recognize ‘my body, my choice’ in terms of reproductive rights, but it is not only there that the phrase is relevant.  I know that members of the medical and psychological community mean well, but just as good intentions don’t make a delicious cupcake, they also are not capable of keeping me safe or labeling me sane. I have many mental health conditions, my trans identity is not one of them. I have high standards, and I refuse to be treated less than because my identity is not considered “normal.” If society gives me something that I’m not satisfied with, I have the right to ask for my (metaphorical) money back. Today, October 22nd, is an international day of action to Stop Trans* Pathologization. If you have never talked about trans* pathologization before, start today. Tell your friends, your partner(s), your family; ask your physicians if they support accessible health care for trans* people, educate yourself and others on the need for change. This shackle on the trans* community influences us all. Stand up with us.

Stop Trans Pathologization 2011 (English) from Stop Trans Pathologization on Vimeo.

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

Posted on by JAC

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.

Life-Saving Midwestern Queer Clinic Needs Help!

Posted on by JAC

Friends,

Howard Brown Health Center, the ONLY sliding scale queer health clinic, is in dire need of funds. This Chicago based health center provides accessible health and community services for over 36,000 queer and trans folks from all over the Midwest every year, including trans health care WITHOUT Gender Identity Disorder. I started going to Howard Brown three years ago, driving a ten hour round trip to get health care where I was treated like a human being. Now they are in danger of closing. Please make whatever donation you can to this life-saving organization. Every little bit helps!!

Click the heart to help!

Ableists to Self-Harmer: “Poor You”

Posted on by JAC

I just read an ‘article‘ of sorts discussing research on the ‘typical’ self-injurer. Result: this random, rushed and frustrated commentary before I dash to the airport:

While there are definitely many who fit some or all of the descriptors mentioned, this research data (from ONE source) most likely came from populations seeking help leaving no representation of people who are not self destructive or disempowered and also practice or cope with self harm. And, what is so horrible about having to pick yourself up now and then? The source website is called “secret shame: you are not the only one” yet wrapped in its attempts of empowerment are repeated points of “oh, we are so sad and self-harming. look at how pathetic we are.” Bullshit.

Speaking as someone in the field of mental health who also has a history with self harm, this is a load of privileged, oppressive crap that feeds the stigma and ‘pity factor’ of mental health conditions. What is being described in this article is depression, not self harm. Sometimes people who practice self-harm are depressed, but sometimes they are not. Many people with self-harm histories are perfectly empowered, many empowered about their self-harm to where it is a positive coping mechanism for them. I’ll be honest; I still struggle with the negative parts of self-harm, but I never tell anyone about it because of articles like this one, that paint people like me as impulsive people who are incapable of having their shit together, deserving pity and ‘help’ with traditional, conformative pathologization.

No one has their shit together all the time, and the expectation for everyone to be shiny and happy constantly is both oppressive and unrealistic. We aren’t robots. (at least I’m not one, no hate for robots). The concept  that self-harm = bad feeds stigmas not just on self-harm and mental variance in the more “traditional” sense but also BDSM and related sexual variances, all listed in the DSM as a mental disorder or paraphilia. It is this social construct that is disempowering, that leaves us to feel ashamed. If we could recognize that this experience is part of many people’s realities then we would be getting somewhere.  Either way, there is no lack of legitimacy of experience here, nor is there any reason for us to pity ourselves or others about it. Pity does not lead to empowerment.

(sorry if there are typos. no time to edit right now!)

Ableism, Access, and Gender Identity Disorder

Posted on by JAC

This past weekend I was invited to be a speaker on the Philadelphia Trans-Health Conference’s plenary panel “Five on Five: Winning The Removal of GID from the DSM-5.”

[image description  – panelists standing in a line smiling] Panel: Kylar Broadus Esq, Jamie Grant, Dr. Becky Allison, Rabbi Levi Alter, Dr. Moonhawk River Stone , JAC Stringer

The panel was interesting, but with the conversations I could guess where the Q & A was gonna go. One topic was, deservedly, a focus: Trans vs. Crazy. Possibly the most common argument against Gender Identity Disorder (GID) is that trans people aren’t “crazy” so we shouldn’t be listed with mental health conditions. Its a simple enough statement but there is a huge underlying message here. When people say “Trans people are happy, successful people. We aren’t crazy.” they often don’t realize that what they are actually saying by default is “We are just like normal (aka good) people. We aren’t like those crazy (aka bad) people.”

I like to think I’m a pretty happy, well adjusted person who is also reasonably successful. And in addition to that I am bipolar, I have a panic condition with phobias, psychosis, depersonalization, OCD, PTSD, learning disabilities, self-harm, and suicide. I am what people consider to be crazy (and I have listed each condition specifically to fight my own hesitations about talking about it), and yet I’m a functional person who works hard to contribute to society along with millions of others who are “crazy.” Mental conditions and success – or even sanity – are not mutually exclusive. Yes, it can be hard to deal with this shit, and as a result I often don’t mention it. I don’t want people to make assumptions about me. Similarly, sometimes I don’t come out as trans because I don’t want assumptions put on me. But being trans is not a mental health condition, it is one of many points on the spectrum of human existence. With that you may ask “isn’t that also true about mental health conditions?” I would say yes. I can only speak from my own experience. A mental condition may alter my functions or feelings, and it may or may not be a bonus factor in my life, but does not make me any less of a person, or make any “normal” person better or more competant. And while I can’t honestly say this is a great way to be, I can’t say it is a horrible way to be either. Trans identity can correlate to that as well. My mental condition is not a weakness, it is a part of my humanity. My gender is not a disorder, it is a part of my identity.

Continue reading “Ableism, Access, and Gender Identity Disorder” →

France Removes GID, The World Trudges into Trans Rights?

Posted on by JAC

Note: This happened over a month ago, and most of us never heard about it. Dude, we need to step up our community’s communications, myself included.

A significant event has occurred! France has offically removed gender identity disorders from its list of mental health conditions. The announcement was first made in May, 2009 by France’s Health Minister, Roselyne Bachelot and came into effect this past February. France is being reported as the first country to removed gender identity disorders, and more specifically “transsexual”  identity from mental health diagnoses, first country of those that have GID that is, which is all countries in which transition is legal.  The NY Times quotes that gender identity disorders has been removed as a “long-term psychiatric disease.” Following in suit, Cuba issued a statement stating that it would also no longer be recognizing trans folks as mentally ill. One that is amazingly empowering, for a state address. Is this a new wave of countries getting their acts together?

Maybe, but not really. (I know you all were excited at the prospect of maybe getting an optimistic ‘good news’ blog from me, but come on, you should know better.)

Word on the street is that this very important step, is more like an important scoot if anything. French transfolk are quoted saying they are still not able to make their own decisions about their bodies and identities decisions instead of “depending on doctors and psychiatrists.” Though gender identity disorder is no longer listed as a mental health condition, it is still listed as requiring psychiatric care, which is confusing. Baby steps I suppose… Diagnosis or no, there has not yet been political reform to support the change. French transfolk are still unable to autonomously decided what they do (surgery or no), how they do it (what doctor and where), and what they can get from it (i.e. documents, name change). Folks are worried this is part of a bigger plan to appease queer French populations in leu of queer marriage and adoption legislation, among other wanted civil rights. Transgender Today has an excellent article about the state of French transfolk.

And though this  small victory for France is not what they had hoped for, it is a victory among a slew of past victories the USA is no where near to obtaining. France’s universal health care is reported to do a terrible job providing skilled doctors for trans transitional care, but it is covered. There is a thick line between covered by care and not, and another line between capable care and shit care. One purely good thing this news has brought, is it reminded me of the hidden pockets of transfolk who are also fed up with this shit. I am not the only one, you are not the only one. All over the world there are more of us working for our community. We are not alone, and will are making changes scoot by scoot. Well what do ya know, this ended up being an optimistic post after all…

How Inclusive is Queer Inclusive Healthcare?

Posted on by JAC

This year Columbus pride not only had HIV testing, but also Syphilis and Hep A & B vaccines. Awesomeness, for sure. I checked out the tent, curious to see if I needed any vaccines. The volunteer was very helpful at first…

“Since you’re a woman…” he began, and went on to list high risk activities and why I would or wouldn’t need a vaccine. I ignored the statement, reasoning to myself that I am female bodied so it makes sense to be grouped with women… right?

I listened in to a friend getting the vaccine spiel. He was female bodied also but was read as male. As a result, he got different information and different medical treatment. I started to think… Am I missing out on information I need? I’m female bodied but I live as a man. My sex practices are both like a female bodied person and a male bodied person. Which group am I supposed to be in?

There was no information about trans populations offered, and no options for trans identity to be selected. As the volunteer continued to speak I mentioned injecting testosterone, hoping he would take the hint. He seemed to get it, and then totally didn’t seem to get it. By the end of it, I felt too awkward to disclose. I let it go and was left wondering whether I had all the protection I needed –just in case. Of all places with queer health care, pride should be prepared for trans folks to be included.

Healthy is for the Wealthy

Posted on by JAC

“…What do the young know or care about health insurance?”

According to conservative columnist Michael Barone young people have “the fewest medical problems of the whole population.” Clearly this guy hasn’t talked to me. I’m one of the millions of young people carrying the permanent label “sick-for-life.”

I’ve been in and out of doctors offices and hospitals for as long as I can remember. As a kid I was lucky enough to have health care through my parents plan, but I still understood my treatment had a cost. My parents voices still echo in my head: “Without insurance we’ll go bankrupt. We’re not going to just let you die.”

As I got older, the expectation of losing insurance became a serious pre-occupation with getting insurance. I calculated the costs of the bare-minimum medication I need to get by… It’s over $3,000 a month.

No one should have to be rich to be healthy.

For the rest of my life I have to be sure to have a job with benefits, not just any benefits, good benefits. Some plans don’t cover prescriptions, others don’t cover certain types of doctors or testing. “PRE-EXISTING CONDITION” is a haunting phrase. If you got it when you get there, then its not covered. My condition is pre-existing…

“NOT MEDICALLY NECESSARY” is another scary slogan, especially for us genderqueers. If a company doesn’t think your condition is important enough, you don’t get covered. Almost every U.S. insurance company considers any gender-related transitional care not medically necessary. We are diagnosed mentally ill and then are incapable of getting “treatment.” Precious few are close enough to a non-profit informed-consent based clinic, the rest pay hundreds to thousands of dollars out of pocket. I drive to Chicago: five hours there, five hours back.

The power that the medical institution has over us is sickening. I am dependent on other people’s decisions in order to live a close-to-healthy life. Doctors decide if I get treatment, insurance companies decide if I deserve it. Last time I checked this was MY life and MY body. I think I deserve more control than run-around phone calls and piles of paper appeals. Who is sitting on these faceless boards that decide my fate? I doubt if it is anyone who is really on my side because my side costs money. If health care becomes “universal” will the government be on my side? From where I’m standing the record doesn’t look good, but at least it would not be a wealth based system so I would have a better chance.

With all the so-called great minds in the world I can’t believe that no one can think up an accessible health care system that is high-quality, cost effective, and promotes patient autonomy. Anyone who argues against universal health care must have never had face the fear of living in uncontrollable pain or realize the chance of losing their physical ability to function. Someone who is healthy or someone who is wealthy can not possibly fully conceive what it feels like, which makes it an easy concept to ignore. We need comprehensive, universal health care now. I’m sick of waiting for health care and I’m tired of being afraid to lose it.

x-posted amplifyyourvoice.org
x-posted queercincinnati.com