Tag: Oberlin

What We’ve Got

Posted on by JAC

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

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

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

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

You Scream, I Scream

Posted on by JAC

He stood in the doorway. I could see him shaking from my desk. He sat across from my desk, avoiding eye contact. I tried to get him to speak, but before he got two words out he broke down. I didn’t need to ask. I knew who he was.

About a week before a student had come to my office looking for advice. While working at a center on campus, she met a community member who had come in looking for resources.  She gave me a brief description that could be summed up to: this person had been through a lot of shit.  It sadly wasn’t an unfamiliar story of a Midwestern  queer, but even I have to admit that it isn’t often you run into a case this bad. Abandonment, abuse, discrimination, rape, homelessness, unemployment, isolation, infection… he had been through it all.

I listened to myself as I spoke words of encouragement I had at one point told someone else… or myself: “You’ve been strong enough to get this far, no reason you can’t keep going. There is nothing wrong with you. You have a right to live and be happy.”

I did my best lend a listening ear and set him up with some resources. The sad truth was that there was no real queer community service system for him around here… or anywhere in the state. I wish I could have done something more to help him. I should of at least shaken his hand… His eyes reminded me of another set I have never forgotten. A young genderqueer I met about a year ago in Indiana. They came up to me after a presentation with tears in their eyes and said, “This is the first time I’ve ever met anyone like me. ” I looked at them and I could swear I was looking at myself.  All I could do was hug them. “I know its hard to imagine now,” I said, “but it does get better. If I made it this far, you can too.” As the words left my mouth I wondered how much farther I had come than this kid. Did I really have it all together like they thought I did?

I never heard from them. I wonder where they are now, what they are doing, if they’ve made it out ok. I don’t remember their name, only their face… the sight of my own painful past played out in someone else. I don’t think its a specific thing for the Midwest, but I do think it is part of a bigger picture. The fact that there are so many of us out there suffering when we shouldn’t have to. I wish there was some better, faster way to for all of us to know that no queer is alone in all this. Every time someone feels a pain because of their identity, someone else is having the exact same pain some 200 miles away. In that bond we can all be stronger.  That bond, that connection is the reason why we have to keep working, keep fighting to make things better. It isn’t over til we are all in the clear, and no one is left behind.

Midwest Reality

Posted on by JAC

The open house was packed. I fought my anxious impulse to disappear, reminding myself that now it wasn’t just my responsibility to be a visible, social-activist butterfly… it was my job. I wandered my way to the middle of the mass and into a conversation with two first-years: One from D.C. and one from Northern Kentucky, near my hometown of Cincinnati. The Kentucky student and I chatted briefly about the conservative environment and the contrast Oberlin had to offer.

“Really?” the D.C. student asked. “Cincinnati is conservative?”
I stopped, amazed at the concept of someone reading the ‘Nati as a liberal space.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t think it is…” said Kentucky, “Its a city, but its a more conservative city.”
I was even surprised at this implication that all cities were automatically full of the enlightened. “Its a red city.” I said, hoping to impart the severity I was feeling. “Blood red.”
D.C.’s eyes widened brightly. “Whoa, so you’ve actually met a real republican?”

I was tempted to ask what planet these people were from. I had no idea there were people who didn’t know any conservative people personally, let alone never officially met one. I think its best put in the words of my dad. “In this city, every person you see is likely to be one of them. Every face I see I can’t help thinking “You support everything I’m against… “”

I smiled at the optimistic first year. “Met a republican?” I laughed, “Honey, down there you can’t escape ’em.”
She laughed and I smiled. On the inside, part of me brightened at the idea that there are places out there that are, theoretically, so “liberal” conservatives won’t even show face. The rest of me sunk, once again reminded that the rest of the country has forgotten about us.

x-posted on Amplify