I just got back from a party of old high school friends, some I meet once or twice a year and others I haven’t seen in twenty years or more. It was a mixed group, some middle class suburban friends others were biker type; balding with their hair pulled back into a ponytail with gray beards, leathers and riding Harley’s. The party was for a friend who came back from Texas for the week, he drove up in three days on a Harley. We all use to hang out together through high school, get stoned, do drugs together, race cars and other stupid things teenager do. We are the one’s who survived.
As I sat there thinking what would of have happened if I showed up as Diana? Could I have done it? What would they have done? Would they accept me as Diana? Woudl they just sat there laughing?
Of the fun of being Trans!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Just When Think We are Making Progress
I was reading a friends blog, "Scenic Root" At first I couldn’t believe what she was saying that after all these years President Bush was monkeying around with Title IX, but then I thought, “Yeah, it is Bush” and he would do something like that. He wants to make the women sports team prove that they are interested in playing sports. The men’s teams don’t only the women’s teams do.
Visit this web-siteby Julie Foudy #11, former Captain USA Soccer Team and sign the petition.
Visit this web-siteby Julie Foudy #11, former Captain USA Soccer Team and sign the petition.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
The Top Ten Republican Issues
Speaker Hastert Statement on the House Republican American Values Agenda
The American Values Agenda
• Pledge Protection Act (HR 2389; Akin)
Summary: Protects the Pledge of Allegiance from attacks by activist federal judges seeking to rule it unconstitutional.
• Freedom to Display the American Flag Act (HR 42; Bartlett)
Summary: Ensures an individual has the right to display the U.S. flag on residential property.
• The Public Expression of Religion Act (HR 2679; Hostettler)
Summary: Ensures local officials and communities do not face financial ruin to defend their rights to free speech under the Constitution (provides that when state or local officials are sued over public expressions of religion, no monetary damages, costs, or attorney's fees may be awarded).
• Marriage Amendment (HJRes 88; Musgrave)
Summary: Constitutional amendment declaring marriage to be between a man and a woman
• Unborn Child Pain Awareness Act (HR 356; C. Smith)
Summary: Requires that those performing late-term abortions inform the woman seeking an abortion of the medical evidence that the unborn child feels pain, and ensure that if she chooses to continue with the abortion procedure, she has the option of choosing anesthesia for the child, so that the unborn child’s pain is less severe.
• Human Cloning Prohibition Act (HR 1357; D. Weldon)
Summary: Bans human cloning and the importation of products derived from a cloned human embryo (e.g. stem cells).
• BATFE Reform (HR 5092; Coble)
Summary: Reforms the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms & Explosives (BATFE) to protect citizens’ rights.
• Internet Gambling Prohibition (Leach/Goodlatte):
Summary: Addresses the issue of illegal internet gambling by making gambling laws apply equally to the internet.
• Permanent Tax Relief for Families
Summary: Likely series of votes on the child tax credit, marriage penalty relief, tax incentives for adoption, and other priorities for American citizens.
• Disaster Recovery Personal Protection Act (HR 5013; Jindal)
Summary: Prohibits governments from using federal funds to confiscate guns from law-abiding citizens during emergencies.
Now class........ lets have a show of hands, “How many think these are the most important issues.”
No giggling in the back! This is a serious issue.
Class!
Class! This is serious; this is what the Speaker of the House thinks. So raise your hands if you think that these are the most important in the nation.
My Answers
Ok, now I will answer the questions.
1. How far have we come, well currently, fifteen states and the District of Columbia have laws that prohibit sexual orientation discrimination, two states have Civil Unions ( Vermont and Connecticut. Yea Connecticut! ) and one state marriage ( Massachusetts, Way to GO! ). There are seven states that offer protection based on Gender or Gender Expression and a number of states that list sexual orientation, gender and gender expression as a Hate Crime. According to the Human Rights Campaign;
So as the cigarette commercial used to say “You come a long ways baby”. However we still have a long ways to go.
2. What do you think our greatest gain is? I was going to answer the Marriage Equality law in Massachusetts and all the Anti-Discriminations laws plus the fact that 31% of the U.S. population is covered by Anti-Discriminations laws the cover Gender or Gender Expression. But after reading Nillo posting I have to agree that taking Homosexuality out of the DSM was a great step forward. Therefore, conversely number 3 is.........
3. Having GID still in the DSM. Having Gender Identity still listed a psychological illness.
1. How far have we come, well currently, fifteen states and the District of Columbia have laws that prohibit sexual orientation discrimination, two states have Civil Unions ( Vermont and Connecticut. Yea Connecticut! ) and one state marriage ( Massachusetts, Way to GO! ). There are seven states that offer protection based on Gender or Gender Expression and a number of states that list sexual orientation, gender and gender expression as a Hate Crime. According to the Human Rights Campaign;
Human Rights Campaign Foundation’s release of the “The State of the Workplace 2005-2006” report shows that, for the first time, a majority of Fortune 500 companies, 253 (51 percent), offer domestic partner health insurance benefits. In addition, 430 (86 percent) of the organizations include sexual orientation in their non-discrimination policies, and 81 include gender identity and/or expression.
So as the cigarette commercial used to say “You come a long ways baby”. However we still have a long ways to go.
2. What do you think our greatest gain is? I was going to answer the Marriage Equality law in Massachusetts and all the Anti-Discriminations laws plus the fact that 31% of the U.S. population is covered by Anti-Discriminations laws the cover Gender or Gender Expression. But after reading Nillo posting I have to agree that taking Homosexuality out of the DSM was a great step forward. Therefore, conversely number 3 is.........
3. Having GID still in the DSM. Having Gender Identity still listed a psychological illness.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Flag Burning
One vote short! One vote and we would have been on our way to passing an amendment that took away liberties.
I am against flag burning however I feel that it is covered under freedom of speech. It is a very strong message and we might not like the message that it sends, but it is a very strong political message. I personally would not be part of any group that did burn the flag and I think it hurts their cause more by burning the flag than anything else that they can do.
It is not only that it almost passed, but that the Congress took a week to debate that and the law that defined marriage as between a man and a woman. They put aside discussing the Iraq war, balancing the budget, illegal wired taps and other important legislation just so the Republican could get some votes out of it and the thing that really gets me mad is that it works. There are people out there that actually vote for the Republicans because they do bring that to a vote. That there are people that the most important thing in their life is that homosexuals might marry or that a flag might get burnt maybe once a year. They don’t care if our men and women are getting killed around the world because of the Republican’s policies or that we have the largest deficit in history or the unemployment rates are going sky high or that interest rates are skyrocketing; no they worry about two men or two women might get married. And you know what? They vote!
They won only by a few thousand votes. This nation is so polarized that every vote counts, this fall go out and vote. Think about this, there are other vacancies that are going to appear on the Supreme Court, who do you want to get to pick those seats?
I am against flag burning however I feel that it is covered under freedom of speech. It is a very strong message and we might not like the message that it sends, but it is a very strong political message. I personally would not be part of any group that did burn the flag and I think it hurts their cause more by burning the flag than anything else that they can do.
It is not only that it almost passed, but that the Congress took a week to debate that and the law that defined marriage as between a man and a woman. They put aside discussing the Iraq war, balancing the budget, illegal wired taps and other important legislation just so the Republican could get some votes out of it and the thing that really gets me mad is that it works. There are people out there that actually vote for the Republicans because they do bring that to a vote. That there are people that the most important thing in their life is that homosexuals might marry or that a flag might get burnt maybe once a year. They don’t care if our men and women are getting killed around the world because of the Republican’s policies or that we have the largest deficit in history or the unemployment rates are going sky high or that interest rates are skyrocketing; no they worry about two men or two women might get married. And you know what? They vote!
They won only by a few thousand votes. This nation is so polarized that every vote counts, this fall go out and vote. Think about this, there are other vacancies that are going to appear on the Supreme Court, who do you want to get to pick those seats?
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Hell No! We won’t take it no more!
Thirty-seven years ago on this day a movement was born which is still going on today, it was the day of the Stonewall Riots. It was the beginning of the Gay Civil Rights movement.
Back on June 27, 1969 the police raided an after hours bar where all the gays, lesbians, transgendered street walker and drag queens met called the Stonewall Inn. It wasn’t the first; there were other riots such as the Compton Riots but it was the Stonewall Riots was the one that caught and started the movement.
The police raided the bar as they did many times before arresting those that did not have the required number of male clothing on or those without ID’s, but for some reason that night they did not go along peacefully. It is lost in the fog of time how the riot actually started, but a number of accounts name Sylvia Rivera as starting it. The riots continued the next night when the police tried again to raid the bar and were met, as one account has it, high stepping drag queens in a dance line across the street. It was from these riots that most of the Gay Rights movement can trace their origins, including the Gay Liberation Front and the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries ( S.T.A.R. ).
So let me pose these questions; 1. How far have we in the GLBT community come? 2. What do you think our greatest gain is? 3. What do you our greatest failure is?
Don’t be shy, your comments and thoughts are welcome.
Back on June 27, 1969 the police raided an after hours bar where all the gays, lesbians, transgendered street walker and drag queens met called the Stonewall Inn. It wasn’t the first; there were other riots such as the Compton Riots but it was the Stonewall Riots was the one that caught and started the movement.
The police raided the bar as they did many times before arresting those that did not have the required number of male clothing on or those without ID’s, but for some reason that night they did not go along peacefully. It is lost in the fog of time how the riot actually started, but a number of accounts name Sylvia Rivera as starting it. The riots continued the next night when the police tried again to raid the bar and were met, as one account has it, high stepping drag queens in a dance line across the street. It was from these riots that most of the Gay Rights movement can trace their origins, including the Gay Liberation Front and the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries ( S.T.A.R. ).
So let me pose these questions; 1. How far have we in the GLBT community come? 2. What do you think our greatest gain is? 3. What do you our greatest failure is?
Don’t be shy, your comments and thoughts are welcome.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Outreach at SCSU
It was a busy day today when down to Southern Connecticut State University to do an outreach at a class. As usual there were some kids in the class that just didn’t want to be there with this weird people and they just sat there with their arms crossed and never asked any questions, but most of the students were and they asked many questions. At the end of class the students handed in their impression sheet about what thought of the experience and all but a few of them were very positive, them seemed to have gotten the message. They realized that we are human too and just want to live our lives, that this is not just a whim but is a part of our very soul.
After the class the professor and the three of us went out to lunch at a local restaurant over lunch the professor was telling us what she has the class do as a homework assignment. Go by themselves to a peep show, strip club or the guys go to a gay bar and the girls go to a lesbian bar, then they write up their experiences. Some class huh!
When I got home I found out that that a meeting that was scheduled for this evening was moved up to four o’clock, so I had to rush off to Hartford for the meeting. CTAC is trying to get a non-profit to be our fiscal sponsor in order for us to get funding from grants and the meeting went well.
After the class the professor and the three of us went out to lunch at a local restaurant over lunch the professor was telling us what she has the class do as a homework assignment. Go by themselves to a peep show, strip club or the guys go to a gay bar and the girls go to a lesbian bar, then they write up their experiences. Some class huh!
When I got home I found out that that a meeting that was scheduled for this evening was moved up to four o’clock, so I had to rush off to Hartford for the meeting. CTAC is trying to get a non-profit to be our fiscal sponsor in order for us to get funding from grants and the meeting went well.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
New Hampshire Sunsets
I had to do more wiring up at the cottage this weekend; however I managed to get out in the boat at sunset and take a few photographs ( Ah... something like 44 pictures ). Here are five that I picked out............
States That I Have Visited
My father was a teacher and during the summers ( ’55 – ’59 ) we use to travel to all the Civil War battlefields, hence just about all the states east of the Mississippi. In ’74 two friends and I traveled out to Fort Collins via Bismarck North Dakota and stayed at my folk’s apartment for a week where my father taught a summer class at Colorado State University, hence the northern loop. And in ’99 my cousin’s son got married out in Everett Washington and I traveled with my brother and his family down the coast to San Francisco.
create your own personalized map of the USA
or check out ourCalifornia travel guide
create your own personalized map of the USA
or check out ourCalifornia travel guide
Friday, June 23, 2006
"Out and Proud"
I just got this e-mail from the NTAC...........
Last weekend at the conference I was at, someone was saying the same thing about Google but not about jobs, but dating. When she gave the girl that she had met her last name, the girl googled it and found 15,000 hits on the name. And I know of another trans activist who took the partners last name so as not to be visible.
So if you are going to be out in the spot light your name will eventually get out on the internet. Mine has; if you search my full name you will get one hit on a GLBT site thanking the volunteers.
The Power of Google vs. "Out and Proud"
By Vanessa Edwards Foster
Don't you love background checks? Yes, when in job-search mode, you become inured to this "laying bare" of your record - and even your personal life sometimes. We know it's there and, especially if you're out in the GLBT community, you know the potential for discovery. But in our day-to-day lives, we tend to give it only passing thought.
It's occurred to me that we've been living in the 20th century if we think our lives aren't readily available to all. Take a good look around. We're living in the age of information, with computers on virtually every citizen's desk. With more users crowding the "information superhighway," user-friendly facility has become the standard.
And lest we forget, we also live in an age where evangelical neo-conservatism is in vogue, with its paranoid zeal of ferreting out and neutralizing those deemed subversive. To wit: the revelation of the National Security Administration keeping files on all GLBT organizations and their affiliates - political or no.
The potential impact for the TGLB job seeker (acronym rearranged in order of impact) with any typical employer is devastating. This doesn't require private investigators, or even the minimal cost of credit checks (a problem for anyone in the trans community who changes their name). No, all the eagle-eyed employer needs is right at their fingertips: Google.com
Yesterday I came face to face with the reality of Google in a most blatant way. Interviewing for one of a series of temp jobs, I walked in with this position's interviewer, and she sat down across from me after giving me a full once-over. She was a large-boned, grandmotherly gray-haired woman, with one perpetually cocked eyebrow, and things began rather typically - "so tell me about yourself …."
After my brief report, the conversation took a mighty turn: "Obviously we do background checks here, and I was just checking online - so, tell me, have you ever heard of the group -" and she referred to her folder of notes, "a group called N.T.A.C?"
It felt as if the floor fell out from under me. I knew instantly she'd done a thorough job of searching the Internet, so I answered, simply, "yes."
Her eyes studied me closely, as she asked her follow-up: "so how did you come to work with … THEM?" While I hate politically legalistic answers - avoiding both lies and forthrightness, I answered in that vain: "I've worked for a number of causes, such as the Women's Political Caucus, that stand up for those whom are disadvantaged or disparate."
She acknowledge seeing my work with the Women's Caucus, then referring to her notes again, she asked if I had heard of "T.G.A.I.N"? "And how did you become involved with THEM?" Note that in her questions, there was special emphasis on her part on the once word - THEM! It's a slightly more politic euphemism for "THOSE PEOPLE!"
Needless to say, the jig was up and I explained to her my transgender status. This drew another quick once-over, and the response "Wow. Well, I certainly couldn't tell. Surprising!" That last sentence seemed dubious since I knew she'd done her Googling pretty thoroughly. The rest of the interview was typical - if perfunctory - job experience questioning. Two gallons of gas burned for a job interview that wasn't going to hire me anyway. Peachy.
After telling my friend Ethan about the incident, he replied to me "well, yeah! There's like thousands of entries in Google about you!" WHAT? I figured I'd have a few. There were 119 last I'd checked … admittedly that was around the. So I Googled myself and, lo, there were thousands of entries all right. And topping the list: the National Transgender Advocacy Coalition. And there were pictures too, lending more proof. And phone numbers, home address - even rather personal details of my physical status in an interview I'd granted with the Hill News, Capitol Hill's prime periodical.
So where does that leave outed TGLB job hopefuls? Pioneer transgender activist, Phyllis Frye is best known for her exhortation: "Be Out And Proud!" "When you transition, don't run from one closet into another closet!" Mostly, I agree. You have to be open in order to debunk the myths and demystify the misconceptions of us that society holds. But by opening ourselves for society's edification we also open ourselves to those who still cleave to their fear of us, rationale notwithstanding.
Meanwhile, especially in the red states, how do we open GLBT folk survive? There are jobs in social advocacy, and a number of gays and lesbians do find work there. Transgender advocacy is overwhelmingly voluntary (e.g. NTAC). Paid employment for transgenders in advocacy is much rarer. So where does this leave the future of activism? One can only speculate. There are, however, certain attendant costs to being "out and proud."
Last weekend at the conference I was at, someone was saying the same thing about Google but not about jobs, but dating. When she gave the girl that she had met her last name, the girl googled it and found 15,000 hits on the name. And I know of another trans activist who took the partners last name so as not to be visible.
So if you are going to be out in the spot light your name will eventually get out on the internet. Mine has; if you search my full name you will get one hit on a GLBT site thanking the volunteers.
Town Hall Meeting and the Poll Results
Once again it was a busy week with very little time to work on the Blog. On Wednesday night I went to the Town Hall meeting the results of the poll that the NGLTF had on done on discrimination based on gender and gender expression were shown. The results were very interesting. 79% of those polled were in favor of adding gender and gender expression to the existing anti-discrimination laws and the poll was taken by a firm that normally does the Republican polls. The questions were framed in the worst possible way to avoid claims of bias but it still came out very positive for us.
Some of the questions that they asked were; “Do you think a person should be fired if a man showed up for work in a dress or a woman dressed as a man?” and “Do you think a teacher should not be fired if a male teacher showed up at school in a dress or a woman teacher dressed as a man even though harm may come to the children?” over 50% said that they should not be fired. Interestingly enough the question about work when asked why, the majority of the respondents said if they could fire someone for that then they could fire me for some other reason and where do you draw the line.
Lastly they asked; “If you congressperson vote for gender and gender expression to be added to the anti-discrimination legislation would you still vote for him?” And 72% (Including those that did not want gender and gender expression in the law.) said yes!
Some of the questions that they asked were; “Do you think a person should be fired if a man showed up for work in a dress or a woman dressed as a man?” and “Do you think a teacher should not be fired if a male teacher showed up at school in a dress or a woman teacher dressed as a man even though harm may come to the children?” over 50% said that they should not be fired. Interestingly enough the question about work when asked why, the majority of the respondents said if they could fire someone for that then they could fire me for some other reason and where do you draw the line.
Lastly they asked; “If you congressperson vote for gender and gender expression to be added to the anti-discrimination legislation would you still vote for him?” And 72% (Including those that did not want gender and gender expression in the law.) said yes!
Companies with Passing Grades for GLBT Polices
There are a number of organizations that rate companies on discrimination, on benefits and harassment policies for their GLBT employees. A good number of companies have received a 100% from these organizations because they have anti-discrimination and anti-harassment polices that include sexual orientation, gender and gender expression and they give benefits to same sex partners. And the numbers of companies are increasing all the time which is good. But I have a question; if they received a 100% does their health insurance cover Gender Identity Disorder and Gender Reassignment Surgery? The answer is NO! There is only one company that I know of that does and a few municipalities that cover GID and GRS, so how can they receive a 100% from these organizations? It seems to me that they should not get a 100% until they do and it is not like there are going to be thousands of employees saying that they want hormones and GRS. So why are these organizations not pushing for insurance coverage for trans individuals. How can these companies say that they are not discriminating when they do not cover transpeople?
Monday, June 19, 2006
Those Silly Little Quizzes
FOUR FOR FRIDAY from belicove.com
Q1 - Holiday: If you could celebrate any holiday twice in one year, which one would it be, and what time of the year would you celebrate it for a second time?
Thanksgiving, it is a four day weekend.
Q2 - Constitution : In your opinion, which of the following issues most needs to be addressed by a Constitutional Amendment: Balanced Budget, Flag Burning, Gay Marriage, Privacy Rights, Something Else, or the Constitution is Fine As Is and Does Not Need Any Further Amendments Right Now?
I am not in favor of any Constitutional Amendment, but the should work on making these laws
Balanced Budget – most definitely.
Flag Burning – no way, when was the last time there was a flag burning. It was something like three years ago.
Gay Marriage – most definitely, I am all for marriage equality.
Privacy Rights – Obey the Constitutional, no warrant less searches or wiretap
Something Else – Civil Rights that include sexual orientation, gender and gender expression.
Q3 - Computer Applications: Last week, Google announced that it would soon launch Google Spreadsheet, a web-based application that someday may compete with Microsoft Excel. How do you feel about web-based applications and programs verses having applications like Microsoft Office (which include Word and Excel) loaded directly onto your computer's hard drive? In other words, all things being equal, do you think you'd ever switch from Microsoft Excel (or Word) to a program like Google Spreadsheet, or do you like the control and comfort associated with having your computer programs and applications right on your own hard drive?
It might be a good idea; it could be a way of sharing data. But I want to wait and see.
Q4 - Trash: What was the last thing you threw into a trashcan?
An old pizza box
From A "Textbook-Good" Visit
(¯`'•.¸(¯`'•.¸A Lizzie Quizzie!¸.•'´¯)¸.•
1. Are you doing anything special for Father's Day?
No, my father passed away last year
2. Have you ever rented a limo?
Yes, for his funeral
3. Fingernails... like long or short?
Long.
4. When was the last time you traveled out of town?
This past weekend, I went up to Albany NY
5. What was your favorite thing to do in the car on trips when you were younger?
Who could fine the most state license plates
6. Favorite current tv show?
Dr Who
7. On a scale from 1-10, how good a cook are you?
7.0
8. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?
No Comment
9. How good are you with directions?
Driving directions; good at giving them, lousy at following them. Directions on doing something, like fixing something also good at giving them, lousy at following them.
10. What is the most amount of money you have ever lost gambling? Won? (cards, Vegas, bets, pools...)
With Foxwood and Mohegan Sun casinos near by, I limit myself to one trip a year each and only bring a $100.
A Sleep Meme
1. Do you use an alarm clock to wake up?
No, I am usually awake went the alarm goes off.
2. What time does your alarm go off?
5:45, but I usually wake up at 4:00
3. What sound does it make?
It is tuned to a talk radio program.
4. Do you hit the snooze button? How many times?
Never
5. If you have a partner, do they have a separate alarm?
Does not apply, hopefully some day.
6. Does your partner get up at the same time, earlier or later?
Does not apply
7. Is your clock set ahead? If so, by how much?
Set right on time, I hate having clocks in the house set at different times.
8. What's the first thing you do when you get up?
Weigh myself.
9. Do you eat breakfast? If so, what?
Eggs and bacon or sausage. I use to have cold or hot cereal everyone morning but I go tired of that.
10. How long does it take you to get ready?
About an hour.
11. On the weekends, what time do you get up?
Usually around 4:00
12. Do you lounge or do you jump into action?
Hell no, I crawl out of bed
13. In an ideal world, what time would you get up?
7:00
14. How many hours of sleep do you typically get?
Five hours
15. How many hours of sleep do you want to get?
Eight hours
Q1 - Holiday: If you could celebrate any holiday twice in one year, which one would it be, and what time of the year would you celebrate it for a second time?
Thanksgiving, it is a four day weekend.
Q2 - Constitution : In your opinion, which of the following issues most needs to be addressed by a Constitutional Amendment: Balanced Budget, Flag Burning, Gay Marriage, Privacy Rights, Something Else, or the Constitution is Fine As Is and Does Not Need Any Further Amendments Right Now?
I am not in favor of any Constitutional Amendment, but the should work on making these laws
Balanced Budget – most definitely.
Flag Burning – no way, when was the last time there was a flag burning. It was something like three years ago.
Gay Marriage – most definitely, I am all for marriage equality.
Privacy Rights – Obey the Constitutional, no warrant less searches or wiretap
Something Else – Civil Rights that include sexual orientation, gender and gender expression.
Q3 - Computer Applications: Last week, Google announced that it would soon launch Google Spreadsheet, a web-based application that someday may compete with Microsoft Excel. How do you feel about web-based applications and programs verses having applications like Microsoft Office (which include Word and Excel) loaded directly onto your computer's hard drive? In other words, all things being equal, do you think you'd ever switch from Microsoft Excel (or Word) to a program like Google Spreadsheet, or do you like the control and comfort associated with having your computer programs and applications right on your own hard drive?
It might be a good idea; it could be a way of sharing data. But I want to wait and see.
Q4 - Trash: What was the last thing you threw into a trashcan?
An old pizza box
From A "Textbook-Good" Visit
(¯`'•.¸(¯`'•.¸A Lizzie Quizzie!¸.•'´¯)¸.•
1. Are you doing anything special for Father's Day?
No, my father passed away last year
2. Have you ever rented a limo?
Yes, for his funeral
3. Fingernails... like long or short?
Long.
4. When was the last time you traveled out of town?
This past weekend, I went up to Albany NY
5. What was your favorite thing to do in the car on trips when you were younger?
Who could fine the most state license plates
6. Favorite current tv show?
Dr Who
7. On a scale from 1-10, how good a cook are you?
7.0
8. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?
No Comment
9. How good are you with directions?
Driving directions; good at giving them, lousy at following them. Directions on doing something, like fixing something also good at giving them, lousy at following them.
10. What is the most amount of money you have ever lost gambling? Won? (cards, Vegas, bets, pools...)
With Foxwood and Mohegan Sun casinos near by, I limit myself to one trip a year each and only bring a $100.
A Sleep Meme
1. Do you use an alarm clock to wake up?
No, I am usually awake went the alarm goes off.
2. What time does your alarm go off?
5:45, but I usually wake up at 4:00
3. What sound does it make?
It is tuned to a talk radio program.
4. Do you hit the snooze button? How many times?
Never
5. If you have a partner, do they have a separate alarm?
Does not apply, hopefully some day.
6. Does your partner get up at the same time, earlier or later?
Does not apply
7. Is your clock set ahead? If so, by how much?
Set right on time, I hate having clocks in the house set at different times.
8. What's the first thing you do when you get up?
Weigh myself.
9. Do you eat breakfast? If so, what?
Eggs and bacon or sausage. I use to have cold or hot cereal everyone morning but I go tired of that.
10. How long does it take you to get ready?
About an hour.
11. On the weekends, what time do you get up?
Usually around 4:00
12. Do you lounge or do you jump into action?
Hell no, I crawl out of bed
13. In an ideal world, what time would you get up?
7:00
14. How many hours of sleep do you typically get?
Five hours
15. How many hours of sleep do you want to get?
Eight hours
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Albany Trans Rights Conference
I just got back from a conference on anti discrimination legislation, the conference group was small only forty-one people there and they were from nine target states that have an active trans movement and an anti discrimination legislation that only covers sexual orientation. I left the conferences feeling very empowered, that I want to go out and change the world but I know it will be a long, long process. Maybe covering years before we get the legislation passed.
Those of you who have been following my blog know that I have been getting a lot more involved in the anti discrimination legislation, if you told me five years ago that I would be this involved, I would have told you “In you dreams.” But as I sat there in the support groups listening I started to see real discrimination, people loosing their jobs, their housing, police harassment and being refused medical treatment for being themselves. And it started affecting me; I wanted to do something to help, to do something.
I joke about always ending up volunteering for something or other, but you know what? I do it because I want to; because I feel that I can make a difference and you can to. It is not hard, all you have to do is pick up a phone or go to an event and volunteer, you don’t have to get in up to you neck, just stick your big toe in and feel the waters. Go to the Town Hall meeting this Wednesday it is being held at 7 pm at the Lecture/Recital Hall in the Greater Hartford Academy of Arts, The Learning Corridor Campus on the corner of Vernon and Washington Streets, Hartford, CT, For more information visit Ct TransAdvocacy or call Amy Miller at 860 247-6090 or Jerimarie Liesegang at 860 983-8139. Click here for more information.
We are at the point in history where we can make a difference
Those of you who have been following my blog know that I have been getting a lot more involved in the anti discrimination legislation, if you told me five years ago that I would be this involved, I would have told you “In you dreams.” But as I sat there in the support groups listening I started to see real discrimination, people loosing their jobs, their housing, police harassment and being refused medical treatment for being themselves. And it started affecting me; I wanted to do something to help, to do something.
I joke about always ending up volunteering for something or other, but you know what? I do it because I want to; because I feel that I can make a difference and you can to. It is not hard, all you have to do is pick up a phone or go to an event and volunteer, you don’t have to get in up to you neck, just stick your big toe in and feel the waters. Go to the Town Hall meeting this Wednesday it is being held at 7 pm at the Lecture/Recital Hall in the Greater Hartford Academy of Arts, The Learning Corridor Campus on the corner of Vernon and Washington Streets, Hartford, CT, For more information visit Ct TransAdvocacy or call Amy Miller at 860 247-6090 or Jerimarie Liesegang at 860 983-8139. Click here for more information.
We are at the point in history where we can make a difference
Friday, June 16, 2006
NCTE & NGLTF Conference
As many of you that I am associated with Connecticut Trans Advocacy Coalition ( CTAC ) and this weekend I am going up to Albany for a conference sponsored by National Center for Transgender Equality and by National Gay and Lesbian Task Force. The focus of the meeting is how to get passed anti-discrimination legislation to include Gender and Gender Expression in our respective states. So hopefully it will be a productive weekend.
Also CTAC is planning on producing “Tara’s Crossing” a play by Emmy-nominated writer Jeffrey Solomon. The play is based on the true story of a transgender immigrant asylum-seeker's remarkable flight from Guyana and her uphill battle to prove claims of persecution from within the confines of U.S. Immigration Detention Center. If all goes as planned we should be producing it in November at the Charter Oak Culture Center in Hartford.
Also CTAC is planning on producing “Tara’s Crossing” a play by Emmy-nominated writer Jeffrey Solomon. The play is based on the true story of a transgender immigrant asylum-seeker's remarkable flight from Guyana and her uphill battle to prove claims of persecution from within the confines of U.S. Immigration Detention Center. If all goes as planned we should be producing it in November at the Charter Oak Culture Center in Hartford.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
"A Girl Like Me: The Gwen Araujo Story"
Lifetime Monday June 19th:
Imagine feeling like you're trapped in the wrong body, that there's been some sort of mistake — that you're supposed to be a girl instead of a boy. How would you tell your family and friends that you wanted to change genders? Would you bring it up with someone you had a crush on? And what would you do when society not only refused to accept the new you, but was violent toward you? Well, Eddie Araujo didn't know the answers, but he did know he was supposed to be female, so he began to dress as a girl and changed his name to Gwen.
You won't believe what Gwen endured just to live her life as who she was and feel normal. It's a shocking true story about courage and tolerance, and is sure to stay with you long after the credits roll.
Directed by: Agnieszka Holland
Written by: Shelley Evans
Imagine feeling like you're trapped in the wrong body, that there's been some sort of mistake — that you're supposed to be a girl instead of a boy. How would you tell your family and friends that you wanted to change genders? Would you bring it up with someone you had a crush on? And what would you do when society not only refused to accept the new you, but was violent toward you? Well, Eddie Araujo didn't know the answers, but he did know he was supposed to be female, so he began to dress as a girl and changed his name to Gwen.
You won't believe what Gwen endured just to live her life as who she was and feel normal. It's a shocking true story about courage and tolerance, and is sure to stay with you long after the credits roll.
Directed by: Agnieszka Holland
Written by: Shelley Evans
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
(¯`'•.¸(¯`'•.¸A Lizzie Quizzie!¸.•'´¯)¸.•
From A "Textbook-Good" Visit"
1. What are three traits you inherited from your father?
Hmm......that stopped me and made me think. I don’t I have any of my father’s traits. I think I inherited my mother’s traits mainly worrying.
2. Do you prefer quiet or commotion?
Quiet.
3. Charcoal or gas grill?
I like to cook on charcoal but most of the time I cook will a gas grill for convenience.
4. What is your favorite soup?
New England Clam Chowder.
5. Do you read the comics?
No.
6. Do you shred your bills/mail?
Nope.
7. Tomatoes... a fruit or a vegetable? Do you like them?
A vegetable. I know that they are a fruit but I think of fruit as sometime you eat as a snack.
8. Do you have a pool or have a membership to one?
Neither, I have a lake.
9. When was the last time you had company over for dinner?
In April, I have my brother and sister-in-law over and I cooked them Shrimp Creole.
10. Did you watch the Windfall pilot? If you won the lottery, how would it change your life?
No, it does not interest me. If I won the lottery I’ll do my year of living full time and then have GRS ( Gender Reassignment Surgery )
1. What are three traits you inherited from your father?
Hmm......that stopped me and made me think. I don’t I have any of my father’s traits. I think I inherited my mother’s traits mainly worrying.
2. Do you prefer quiet or commotion?
Quiet.
3. Charcoal or gas grill?
I like to cook on charcoal but most of the time I cook will a gas grill for convenience.
4. What is your favorite soup?
New England Clam Chowder.
5. Do you read the comics?
No.
6. Do you shred your bills/mail?
Nope.
7. Tomatoes... a fruit or a vegetable? Do you like them?
A vegetable. I know that they are a fruit but I think of fruit as sometime you eat as a snack.
8. Do you have a pool or have a membership to one?
Neither, I have a lake.
9. When was the last time you had company over for dinner?
In April, I have my brother and sister-in-law over and I cooked them Shrimp Creole.
10. Did you watch the Windfall pilot? If you won the lottery, how would it change your life?
No, it does not interest me. If I won the lottery I’ll do my year of living full time and then have GRS ( Gender Reassignment Surgery )
Monday, June 12, 2006
In the News........
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Crossing the Gender Norms
THIS ALASKAN LIFE
Me in the bathroom
By Amy Groshek
Anchorage Press
Vol. 15, Ed. 23 June 8 - June 14 2006
I descended the escalator from the Egan Center lobby. Muscled men in
vests labeled SECURITY stood at 100-foot intervals in the hall. The
night was exhilarating: the fighters in their heavy gloves and my
slight, well-dressed date had filled me with a pleasurable
insouciance. But I had waited far too long to visit the bathroom, so
I hurried inside, chose the closest stall and shut the door.
Seconds later, before I'd gotten my pants down, a woman began to
shout on the far side of the restroom. The large facility had two
doors, and she'd entered by the far one. Now she proceeded from
stall to stall, banging on the metal doors, yelling, "This is
Security! Everyone out! There's a man in the bathroom!"
My first reaction was curiosity. Then came the realization that I
was the man.
One of the male security workers posted in the hall must have seen
me enter, confused my gender and sent his female colleague in to
rout me out. She proceeded through the stalls. The volume rose as
startled women slammed stall doors open and, in a flurry of hand
washing, turned on the sinks at the counter.
I had dressed to charm that night and brought my longhaired date to
Thursday Night at The Fights. Shivering in her skirt and tank top,
she'd pressed her back against my chest to slide her shoulders into
the front of my leather jacket - a black Vanson Comet that I'd
special-ordered in a men's size 38. Under the jacket I wore a faded
black T-shirt. My boots were harness boots, with silver hoops just
visible below the hems of my jeans.
Like most butch women, I have a woman's face. My gestures are
athletic, my breasts rarely discernible, and I have no hips, but
even under a crewcut there is something fine and vulnerable in my
face. My cheekbones are pronounced; my lips are full and red. In
high school I forced myself through two proms, and in my mother's
pictures, without my mannerisms to betray me, my long hair thrown
into a deft, cyclonic temper by the local stylist, I am slim,
clear-complexioned, long-legged - a female beauty.
The shouting security worker proceeded through the stalls, and the
hand-washing exodus continued. I stood in alarm, my pants and boxers
at my knees. Since she had started at the far end, I had time to
plan - but I still had to urinate, badly. No, I decided, better to
sit back down and use the toilet, since I had no idea what would
happen when I was found. By then I was clenched up like a fresh-dug
clam; it took extraordinary willpower to empty my bladder. Finally,
I hoisted my underwear and jeans. I was buckling my belt when the
rap came at my stall.
"Sir, Sir! Come out!"
She had seen my boots. I squared my shoulders, straightened my back
and swung the door open.
"Oh," she exhaled, with an air of disappointment, "you're not a
man." Her permed hair fell strangely on the black SECURITY vest. She
was a foot shorter than me.
A lopsided file of women stood behind her, drying their hands or
simply enjoying the scene. The guard stepped aside as I went to the
sink and washed my hands. Then she went to both exits: "It's
alright," she said, to others outside the doors, "there's no man."
Some of the women in the bathroom cast me sympathetic looks in the
mirror; some shook their heads. When I stepped into the hall, five
or six of the black-vested guards were bunched at the restroom door,
along with a small crowd of spectators. Barks of heady laughter rose
at my back.
That was not the only time that my gender has been confused. I am
accustomed to and rarely offended by the regular mix-ups of grocery
clerks so inanely required, by store policy, to call me "sir" or
"ma'am." And being mistaken for a man, even a scrawny one, can come
in handy - in a car repair shop, for instance, or in a summer job as
a landscaper. But the restroom confusions are different.
In the building where I work, the only restroom on the floor is also
used by the attendees of the training sessions, annual meetings and
conferences that the campus hosts. It's a small school; the staff
and faculty know me and know how I dress. But whenever visitors use
the building, at least one woman, when she sees me inside the
restroom, stumbles at the door and backs up to check the gender
sign. Usually I'm washing my hands, and I catch her blunder in the
mirror. I do my best to be polite. If I meet her at the exit (most
embarrassing for her, because I see her alarm head-on), I hold the
door.
My appearance frightens some women at the airport in Anchorage, too.
In March, exiting the B-gate restroom, I met a chubby teenage girl
at the door. She gasped and shuffled sideways, smacking her shoulder
into a payphone. It is especially disheartening to be feared by the
young.
These females are only making sure they are not walking into the
men's room, of course. But the result is that the women's room is no
longer mine as it is theirs. When I use a public restroom nowadays,
I watch my back. I think of the security guards hard on my heels,
with no female emissary to find, in the final seconds, the woman's
eyes in my frightened face. In department stores, hospitals, movie
theaters, I'll suffer my private discomfort rather than deal with
others in the restroom.
Both in Anchorage and in rural Wisconsin, where my family is from, I
have been heckled on the street by boys in rusted pickups hollering
"Faggot." Most often I'm confused for a gay man. Once, caught on my
walk home, I ran down an alley and crouched behind a Dumpster to
wait until my antagonists grew bored and gave up circling the block.
It was broad daylight, early evening, the city full of commuters. I
was in little danger, but I didn't want them to see where I lived.
Even if they had, abject gay-hating poses a different kind of
danger. To carry their violent sentiments further, those boys would
have to commit a hate crime, and hate crime infuriates most humane
Americans. The confusion of my gender in public restrooms is both
more difficult to explain and more painful. What these women submit
me to and occasionally endanger me with is their lack of
imagination.
Am I asking for it, going around dressed like a man?
Long before I knew I was gay, long before I knew the word "lesbian"
or had any sexual vocabulary, I begged for boys' clothing. I had no
brothers, and my sister and I were encouraged to hunt and fish with
my father and to play any sport we chose.
In my early childhood my parents were dairy farmers. No one batted
an eye at my running the length of the property barefoot, in shorts,
my chest bare as any male childhood hero. I fashioned bows and
arrows from birch saplings, played with G.I. Joes and toy tractors,
and was rarely forced into traditional gender roles by my parents.
There were the Sunday dresses, the Easter outfits, the grandparents
and neighbors who cleaned and neatened me, combing my short hair
flat. But even at school, up until the time of boyfriends and
girlfriends, very few of my classmates cared how I dressed, how I
walked, or what I did at recess.
All of that changed in junior high and high school. Clothing
diverged into two distinct, gendered camps and so did my classmates.
With the exception of the basketball court, I was wrong in every
kind of crowd, wrong in my own body. My teammates rumored that I was
a lesbian. Five years later, halfway through college, exhausted by
so many attempts to erect a "normal" life around my unmistakable
instincts, I was ready to admit it.
Of course, not all gay women dress like men. Some, like my date that
night at the fights, are incredibly - deliciously - feminine: they
wear their hair long, they wear makeup, they wear skirts. Other
lesbians look neither particularly male nor particularly female,
though usually they use a few minute articles to cue those who might
be confused. Earrings, bracelets, and women's shoes all work well
for this. But that has never been my way. If I had any choice as to
whether I was gay or straight, I had as much choice in this, and I
could as well feminize my appearance now as I could change the color
of my eyes.
Last summer I visited my parents in central Wisconsin. One night we
attended an open-air theater outside of Madison. The performance,
fortuitously, was of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, in which
shipwrecked Viola, masquerading as page Cesario, enters the service
of Duke Orsino. The Duke sends Viola-as-Cesario to woo, for him,
Lady Olivia. Never mind the play's conveniently heterosexual
conclusion: Olivia falls in love with Viola. At 16, on a school
visit to this same theater, I'd shamefully thrilled to this subplot
Shakespeare must have meant to elicit. Ten years later, I sat in the
audience, Viola incarnate, only not in love with the duke, and
madly, mutually in love with Olivia. Should we break the script and
tell our secrets, should she take me as I was, we could step
together straight out of Shakespeare into the woods behind the set,
into bramble and oak and the racket of frogs from the river.
At the intermission I walked to the restroom. There were easily 50
women moving through the large facility and 20 of us in line. I
steeled myself, jutted my chin, and cast my challenging glare across
the standing queue and the rotating set of women at the sinks, but
received not a glance. The women in the line, some gay, most
straight, simply did not care about me. Each had quickly and easily
identified me as gay, as an androgynous woman, if they bothered to
note me at all.
I saw how embittered, how defensive, I'd become. I remembered
leaving the restroom at the intermission of an Anchorage Opera
performance, walking past a long file of well-coifed women. Three of
them had glared and gasped. One had pulled her child towards her as
if to protect him.
What I chose, in college, was to be a visible, "out" homosexual.
Neither my friends nor my employers have ever given me trouble for
that choice. But what I gained in peace of mind, in not living a
double life, I pay back in this social estrangement and occasional
danger.
Alaska is a strange political amalgam. Last fall the Alaska Supreme
Court decided that employment benefits must be extended to same-sex
domestic partners (as well as plain old heterosexual domestic
partners). Given the bans on same-sex marriage voted into effect in
other red states in 2004, the ruling was not only surprising but
also uplifting for Alaska gays.
This year, a constitutional amendment designed to overturn the
Alaska Supreme Court's ruling made its way through the state
legislature. Due to the efforts of the Alaska ACLU, numerous Alaska
gays who came forth to testify, and a handful of stalwart
legislators, the amendment did not make it to a vote before the
legislative session ended. But religious groups from across the
state testified against same-sex partner benefits. And I couldn't
help but pay attention.
For better or worse, that night at the Egan Center changed my life.
That night is part of the reason I've decided to leave Alaska, and
it will play a large part in where I choose to live next. I scan
maps of the Midwest these days and ask myself not where I'd be
happiest or where I could live most cheaply in order to find more
time to write, but where I am least likely to be raped or beaten or
escorted from a public restroom.
What I find is that I'm limited to the purview of Craigslist, to
larger college towns and hipster urban centers. I can live where
I'll be safe, or on a country road with birdsong and little traffic,
but never both. I can have wild places or my own heart. Even the
muddy-heeled farmer's daughter in me, faced with such a choice,
looks to safety.
A month ago, when I began talking about the move, a queer friend of
mine gently suggested Thomas Wolfe's novel You Can't Go Home Again.
This winter, I read every review of Brokeback Mountain I could find.
I watched the movie in the theater twice, savoring its grand scenery
and pressurized dialogue. But I cared far more what the public
thought about the film. I wanted to use Brokeback Mountain as a
litmus test from which to project my own future happiness. But the
conflict of Jack and Ennis is not my conflict. It's Felicity
Huffman's Bree in the movie TransAmerica whose life resembles mine.
Like Bree, I've chosen to live with my truest self on the outside.
Like Bree, what I want is a life with the unselfconscious ease of
those who fit within the gender norms. Bree, in fact, passes where I
never could safely, because she aspires to a normal gender role.
As I age, my hair will gray, and my shoulders will round, but I will
always embody the undefined. I do not ask for society's validation
as either a male or a female. I make a far more difficult request. I
ask - in my appearance, in my mannerisms, in the way I live my life
- whether gender is the best criteria by which to evaluate a human.
There's a scene in TransAmerica in which Bree sits in a restaurant.
The child at the next table, maybe 10 years old, turns in her chair
to face Bree, to ask her, as children often ask me, "Are you a boy
or a girl?"
Put me, then, in Bree's chair. Not a slender, well-mannered
male-to-female transsexual, but a soft-faced, bookish butch in black
Danners and jeans. I sit with my arms folded, slouched into the
chair, legs apart. I'm distracted. I've been eyeing the waitress, a
worn but dignified small-town beauty who's refrained from "sir" or
"ma'am" by calling me "hon."
I turn to this child who evidences, in her innocence, all the
difficulties my mother foresaw when, just months after Matthew
Sheppard's death, I came out to her. "Amy," my mother said, "they
kill people for that!"
She has come to regret what she said - and I have come to see how
right she was. I can't go home, ever. But I can find love in the
safe places, and I can live with some dignity. I can turn to this
child who will not remember what I say, though she will remember for
years how I look, and ask her, because it is the question she should
ask, "Are you kind?"
Anchorage Press articles, commentary, news, reviews, features and
calendar are copyrighted by: Anchorage Publishing, Inc.
Me in the bathroom
By Amy Groshek
Anchorage Press
Vol. 15, Ed. 23 June 8 - June 14 2006
I descended the escalator from the Egan Center lobby. Muscled men in
vests labeled SECURITY stood at 100-foot intervals in the hall. The
night was exhilarating: the fighters in their heavy gloves and my
slight, well-dressed date had filled me with a pleasurable
insouciance. But I had waited far too long to visit the bathroom, so
I hurried inside, chose the closest stall and shut the door.
Seconds later, before I'd gotten my pants down, a woman began to
shout on the far side of the restroom. The large facility had two
doors, and she'd entered by the far one. Now she proceeded from
stall to stall, banging on the metal doors, yelling, "This is
Security! Everyone out! There's a man in the bathroom!"
My first reaction was curiosity. Then came the realization that I
was the man.
One of the male security workers posted in the hall must have seen
me enter, confused my gender and sent his female colleague in to
rout me out. She proceeded through the stalls. The volume rose as
startled women slammed stall doors open and, in a flurry of hand
washing, turned on the sinks at the counter.
I had dressed to charm that night and brought my longhaired date to
Thursday Night at The Fights. Shivering in her skirt and tank top,
she'd pressed her back against my chest to slide her shoulders into
the front of my leather jacket - a black Vanson Comet that I'd
special-ordered in a men's size 38. Under the jacket I wore a faded
black T-shirt. My boots were harness boots, with silver hoops just
visible below the hems of my jeans.
Like most butch women, I have a woman's face. My gestures are
athletic, my breasts rarely discernible, and I have no hips, but
even under a crewcut there is something fine and vulnerable in my
face. My cheekbones are pronounced; my lips are full and red. In
high school I forced myself through two proms, and in my mother's
pictures, without my mannerisms to betray me, my long hair thrown
into a deft, cyclonic temper by the local stylist, I am slim,
clear-complexioned, long-legged - a female beauty.
The shouting security worker proceeded through the stalls, and the
hand-washing exodus continued. I stood in alarm, my pants and boxers
at my knees. Since she had started at the far end, I had time to
plan - but I still had to urinate, badly. No, I decided, better to
sit back down and use the toilet, since I had no idea what would
happen when I was found. By then I was clenched up like a fresh-dug
clam; it took extraordinary willpower to empty my bladder. Finally,
I hoisted my underwear and jeans. I was buckling my belt when the
rap came at my stall.
"Sir, Sir! Come out!"
She had seen my boots. I squared my shoulders, straightened my back
and swung the door open.
"Oh," she exhaled, with an air of disappointment, "you're not a
man." Her permed hair fell strangely on the black SECURITY vest. She
was a foot shorter than me.
A lopsided file of women stood behind her, drying their hands or
simply enjoying the scene. The guard stepped aside as I went to the
sink and washed my hands. Then she went to both exits: "It's
alright," she said, to others outside the doors, "there's no man."
Some of the women in the bathroom cast me sympathetic looks in the
mirror; some shook their heads. When I stepped into the hall, five
or six of the black-vested guards were bunched at the restroom door,
along with a small crowd of spectators. Barks of heady laughter rose
at my back.
That was not the only time that my gender has been confused. I am
accustomed to and rarely offended by the regular mix-ups of grocery
clerks so inanely required, by store policy, to call me "sir" or
"ma'am." And being mistaken for a man, even a scrawny one, can come
in handy - in a car repair shop, for instance, or in a summer job as
a landscaper. But the restroom confusions are different.
In the building where I work, the only restroom on the floor is also
used by the attendees of the training sessions, annual meetings and
conferences that the campus hosts. It's a small school; the staff
and faculty know me and know how I dress. But whenever visitors use
the building, at least one woman, when she sees me inside the
restroom, stumbles at the door and backs up to check the gender
sign. Usually I'm washing my hands, and I catch her blunder in the
mirror. I do my best to be polite. If I meet her at the exit (most
embarrassing for her, because I see her alarm head-on), I hold the
door.
My appearance frightens some women at the airport in Anchorage, too.
In March, exiting the B-gate restroom, I met a chubby teenage girl
at the door. She gasped and shuffled sideways, smacking her shoulder
into a payphone. It is especially disheartening to be feared by the
young.
These females are only making sure they are not walking into the
men's room, of course. But the result is that the women's room is no
longer mine as it is theirs. When I use a public restroom nowadays,
I watch my back. I think of the security guards hard on my heels,
with no female emissary to find, in the final seconds, the woman's
eyes in my frightened face. In department stores, hospitals, movie
theaters, I'll suffer my private discomfort rather than deal with
others in the restroom.
Both in Anchorage and in rural Wisconsin, where my family is from, I
have been heckled on the street by boys in rusted pickups hollering
"Faggot." Most often I'm confused for a gay man. Once, caught on my
walk home, I ran down an alley and crouched behind a Dumpster to
wait until my antagonists grew bored and gave up circling the block.
It was broad daylight, early evening, the city full of commuters. I
was in little danger, but I didn't want them to see where I lived.
Even if they had, abject gay-hating poses a different kind of
danger. To carry their violent sentiments further, those boys would
have to commit a hate crime, and hate crime infuriates most humane
Americans. The confusion of my gender in public restrooms is both
more difficult to explain and more painful. What these women submit
me to and occasionally endanger me with is their lack of
imagination.
Am I asking for it, going around dressed like a man?
Long before I knew I was gay, long before I knew the word "lesbian"
or had any sexual vocabulary, I begged for boys' clothing. I had no
brothers, and my sister and I were encouraged to hunt and fish with
my father and to play any sport we chose.
In my early childhood my parents were dairy farmers. No one batted
an eye at my running the length of the property barefoot, in shorts,
my chest bare as any male childhood hero. I fashioned bows and
arrows from birch saplings, played with G.I. Joes and toy tractors,
and was rarely forced into traditional gender roles by my parents.
There were the Sunday dresses, the Easter outfits, the grandparents
and neighbors who cleaned and neatened me, combing my short hair
flat. But even at school, up until the time of boyfriends and
girlfriends, very few of my classmates cared how I dressed, how I
walked, or what I did at recess.
All of that changed in junior high and high school. Clothing
diverged into two distinct, gendered camps and so did my classmates.
With the exception of the basketball court, I was wrong in every
kind of crowd, wrong in my own body. My teammates rumored that I was
a lesbian. Five years later, halfway through college, exhausted by
so many attempts to erect a "normal" life around my unmistakable
instincts, I was ready to admit it.
Of course, not all gay women dress like men. Some, like my date that
night at the fights, are incredibly - deliciously - feminine: they
wear their hair long, they wear makeup, they wear skirts. Other
lesbians look neither particularly male nor particularly female,
though usually they use a few minute articles to cue those who might
be confused. Earrings, bracelets, and women's shoes all work well
for this. But that has never been my way. If I had any choice as to
whether I was gay or straight, I had as much choice in this, and I
could as well feminize my appearance now as I could change the color
of my eyes.
Last summer I visited my parents in central Wisconsin. One night we
attended an open-air theater outside of Madison. The performance,
fortuitously, was of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, in which
shipwrecked Viola, masquerading as page Cesario, enters the service
of Duke Orsino. The Duke sends Viola-as-Cesario to woo, for him,
Lady Olivia. Never mind the play's conveniently heterosexual
conclusion: Olivia falls in love with Viola. At 16, on a school
visit to this same theater, I'd shamefully thrilled to this subplot
Shakespeare must have meant to elicit. Ten years later, I sat in the
audience, Viola incarnate, only not in love with the duke, and
madly, mutually in love with Olivia. Should we break the script and
tell our secrets, should she take me as I was, we could step
together straight out of Shakespeare into the woods behind the set,
into bramble and oak and the racket of frogs from the river.
At the intermission I walked to the restroom. There were easily 50
women moving through the large facility and 20 of us in line. I
steeled myself, jutted my chin, and cast my challenging glare across
the standing queue and the rotating set of women at the sinks, but
received not a glance. The women in the line, some gay, most
straight, simply did not care about me. Each had quickly and easily
identified me as gay, as an androgynous woman, if they bothered to
note me at all.
I saw how embittered, how defensive, I'd become. I remembered
leaving the restroom at the intermission of an Anchorage Opera
performance, walking past a long file of well-coifed women. Three of
them had glared and gasped. One had pulled her child towards her as
if to protect him.
What I chose, in college, was to be a visible, "out" homosexual.
Neither my friends nor my employers have ever given me trouble for
that choice. But what I gained in peace of mind, in not living a
double life, I pay back in this social estrangement and occasional
danger.
Alaska is a strange political amalgam. Last fall the Alaska Supreme
Court decided that employment benefits must be extended to same-sex
domestic partners (as well as plain old heterosexual domestic
partners). Given the bans on same-sex marriage voted into effect in
other red states in 2004, the ruling was not only surprising but
also uplifting for Alaska gays.
This year, a constitutional amendment designed to overturn the
Alaska Supreme Court's ruling made its way through the state
legislature. Due to the efforts of the Alaska ACLU, numerous Alaska
gays who came forth to testify, and a handful of stalwart
legislators, the amendment did not make it to a vote before the
legislative session ended. But religious groups from across the
state testified against same-sex partner benefits. And I couldn't
help but pay attention.
For better or worse, that night at the Egan Center changed my life.
That night is part of the reason I've decided to leave Alaska, and
it will play a large part in where I choose to live next. I scan
maps of the Midwest these days and ask myself not where I'd be
happiest or where I could live most cheaply in order to find more
time to write, but where I am least likely to be raped or beaten or
escorted from a public restroom.
What I find is that I'm limited to the purview of Craigslist, to
larger college towns and hipster urban centers. I can live where
I'll be safe, or on a country road with birdsong and little traffic,
but never both. I can have wild places or my own heart. Even the
muddy-heeled farmer's daughter in me, faced with such a choice,
looks to safety.
A month ago, when I began talking about the move, a queer friend of
mine gently suggested Thomas Wolfe's novel You Can't Go Home Again.
This winter, I read every review of Brokeback Mountain I could find.
I watched the movie in the theater twice, savoring its grand scenery
and pressurized dialogue. But I cared far more what the public
thought about the film. I wanted to use Brokeback Mountain as a
litmus test from which to project my own future happiness. But the
conflict of Jack and Ennis is not my conflict. It's Felicity
Huffman's Bree in the movie TransAmerica whose life resembles mine.
Like Bree, I've chosen to live with my truest self on the outside.
Like Bree, what I want is a life with the unselfconscious ease of
those who fit within the gender norms. Bree, in fact, passes where I
never could safely, because she aspires to a normal gender role.
As I age, my hair will gray, and my shoulders will round, but I will
always embody the undefined. I do not ask for society's validation
as either a male or a female. I make a far more difficult request. I
ask - in my appearance, in my mannerisms, in the way I live my life
- whether gender is the best criteria by which to evaluate a human.
There's a scene in TransAmerica in which Bree sits in a restaurant.
The child at the next table, maybe 10 years old, turns in her chair
to face Bree, to ask her, as children often ask me, "Are you a boy
or a girl?"
Put me, then, in Bree's chair. Not a slender, well-mannered
male-to-female transsexual, but a soft-faced, bookish butch in black
Danners and jeans. I sit with my arms folded, slouched into the
chair, legs apart. I'm distracted. I've been eyeing the waitress, a
worn but dignified small-town beauty who's refrained from "sir" or
"ma'am" by calling me "hon."
I turn to this child who evidences, in her innocence, all the
difficulties my mother foresaw when, just months after Matthew
Sheppard's death, I came out to her. "Amy," my mother said, "they
kill people for that!"
She has come to regret what she said - and I have come to see how
right she was. I can't go home, ever. But I can find love in the
safe places, and I can live with some dignity. I can turn to this
child who will not remember what I say, though she will remember for
years how I look, and ask her, because it is the question she should
ask, "Are you kind?"
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