Number 174

 Rabbit Hole Hell

It's Grace's fault really. I was perfectly happy leading a TikTok free existence until she got me hooked on the addictively short DIY videos TikTok is famous for. Who knew there were so many auteurs out there? My first obsession were videos put out by other trans folks. That led me to medical doctors that had a lot of trans-supportive content. Interestingly, many of those doctors are female OB/GYNs. From there, I discovered videos produced by progressive Christian pastors (and a few articulate atheists with whom I agree with quite often). There's a few other folks I've bookmarked, but that's basically it.

Except there's a little more to it than that. If only I would check in with the creators that I've bookmarked, it wouldn't be that big a deal. Remember - these are short videos. No, the problem is that it is super easy to get sucked into a rabbit hole on some particular topic, and the next thing you know you've lost an hour. I mean, if I only eat a few potato chips, I'm not going to blow up my diet, right? But if I come up for air only to  realize I've eaten the entire f*cking bag, all I can offer up is a repentant, "oops, didn't mean to do that..."

Yesterday, one of my pastor crushes posted a video in which she replied to a commenter who declared she shouldn't even be a minister because she possessed, GASP! a vagina. I made the mistake of clicking on the profile of this individual with whom I disagreed, because the next thing I knew I fell down a rabbit hole that presented excerpts from sermons being preached by a variety of independent, conservative preachers. I suppose my only defense is to point my finger at y'all, and make the accusation that you, "slow down to stare at car wrecks, too!" A dubious defense at best because it's tantamount to an admission of guilt.

Now, so far, I've tried to play nice, but I'm about to take my gloves off. There's no way I can tell the rest of this story attempting any sense of neutrality. So if there are any overly sensitive independent, conservative preachers out there, you might want to step away from this post, because I'm about to get medieval on your ass. To start with, in the above paragraph, I used the word "preached." That was incorrect. I should have used the word "ranted." Or "spouted off." "Bloviated," "blustered," or "bellowed," would have worked, too.

Then there were the intermittent interjections of "Praise, Jesus," or other some such; at such random occurrences, as to render the expression meaningless. And the spittle. There was a lot of that, too. One of the random, overweight, white guys (seriously, maybe they can't help their ethnicity, but most of them look like "all you can eat buffet" are their five favorite words - eat a salad, guys), was telling us why Robert E. Lee was an exemplary Christian. There was also a fair bit of homophobia, which was particularly telling, because homosexuality was rarely the topic upon which they were inarticulately sounding off upon. Apparently it's just some random chum they  like to toss out to the sharks sitting in the pews every so often. But more than anything else, the topic that kept popping up was a particularly vicious strain of misogyny that would make Mel Gibson blush.

The worst was this one dude who kept listing all the different ways that a woman shouldn't dress for fear that she might be accused of being the worst sort of evil temptress. There are so many problems with this that I don't know if I can unpack it all. (1) It's victim blaming of the worst sort. Anything bad that happens to a woman because a man sees an inadvertent bra strap is her fault (2) It implies that men aren't responsible for their own behavior. He can't help himself if he sexually assaults a woman wearing a sleeveless blouse. (3) If this dude really wants to make a point about dressing more modestly, why doesn't he detail the way women should dress, rather than going on and on about how women shouldn't dress. Apparently spewing about modest dress is not very interesting to him. Too bad it's easier to impart a lesson by stressing the positives than it is the negatives. So much for the alleged doctorate he claims to possess. (4) Listening to this dude go into such great detail describing the sartorial sins that a woman can commit made me feel so dirty I felt like I needed a shower. He has obviously obsessed about this subject a great deal. The way he describes the slit of a woman's skirt, I can only imagine he wrote that particular section of his 'sermon' one-handed. He was a disgusting man blaming women for his own lustful thoughts. 

The way the all spoke with such complete certainty was scary. In my mind, one of the biggest mistakes a person can make, is to believe completely in the inerrancy of their opinion. As soon as you stop questioning or wondering about things and close your mind to other possibilities, you start to stagnate. To me, a closed mind is incredibly dangerous. The most depressing part of this whole rabbit hole experience was the part I couldn't see or hear. Every single one of these idiots had a receptive audience.

Number 173

 Apologies & Forgiveness

I try to avoid using the expression "I hate [whatever]," because I find the concept of 'hate' rather repugnant. That said, there are a few things that I actually do hate. Certain things, such as cruelty, injustice, greed, or willful ignorance almost all other people find hateful, too. Other things are more idiosyncratic. Examples of this kind might include lentils, people who don't use turn signals, or women's clothing with functionless pockets. For the purposes of today's post, I especially hate apologies that include the word "if." Seriously, any apology that contains the phrase "If you were offended by my words/actions...," makes me lose my shit. They're wasted words that put the onus upon the aggrieved person - like there is something wrong with them for being hurt and/or offended. You either regret your word/actions or you don't. If you do, offer up an unqualified apology, if you don't, don't.

Except it's not quite that simple. For one thing, some people (ie. women), apologize far too often for many things that don't require an apology. Other people lack the self-awareness to understand when they've really stepped in it, and don't apologize nearly enough. Which leads to the biggest problem with apologies: sincerity (or the lack thereof). If it is brought to a persons's attention that they need to apologize for something, AND they do so; do they really mean it? The only person who really knows is the person who apologized. Ultimately, the receiver(s) of an apology need to decide two things: (1) Is the apology sincere; and (2) Will they accept it.

Which brings me to the main point I want to make. I am greatly concerned by our society's trend towards a hard-hearted and cynical reaction to public apologies. We are living at a time where we are beginning to better understand that our culture's tacit acceptance of institutionalized racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. has resulted in devastating consequences for so many of us. (And let me be clear, not only do I support this movement, I'm doing my best to work on my own shit, too.) As a result, many people are being held accountable for past bad behavior. It is entirely appropriate that this is happening. And the fact that many people are offering unqualified apologies for past mistakes (whether they were made intentionally or not), is also a good sign. It's what happens next that concerns me.

Above, I said that the only person who knows if an apology is sincere, is the person who makes it. That leaves it to the rest of us to make our own judgments as to its genuineness. "I don't know? Whadaya think? Do they really mean it?" are exhausting questions to ponder. And the reality is, we'll never know the answers. However, if it's someone whose politics closely align with mine, I'm much more likely to believe the apology than a person's that don't. And that's a dangerous bias I'm pretty sure I share with, oh I don't know, let's just say, everybody else. And that just breeds more distrust and division in an already fractured society. Scary, right?

So I've thought about this a lot. What happens inside of me when I accept an apology? What happens when I don't. When I don't forgive an apology, I hold on to the hardness I feel. It leaves me tense and anxious. In the long run, a lack of forgiveness on my part will hurt me more than my antagonist. On the other hand, choosing to forgive usually makes my heart lighter and help me feel more at peace. And forgiveness doesn't equate to forgetting, despite the conclusion of the trite cliche to "forgive and forget." It is important to remember, because if somebody keeps trying to get away with the same shit then it's on them if their sincerity is considered suspect.

I suppose what I'm asking is that everyone turn their default switch to one of acceptance rather than cynicism. I suspect that makes me sound a little bit like Pollyanna, and I can accept that. I just know that for myself, trying to put my faith on everyone else's better nature makes my life more serene and pleasant. And for the record, I'm not naive. I know there are bad people out there, and I pay attention when my interpersonal barometer tells me to be careful around someone. It's just this. I have done things in my life that fill me with shame and embarrassment. I've apologized for many of them over the course of my life, and I believe I've mostly been sincere. I've also grown and become a better person, in part, because of my mistakes (as well as my willingness to acknowledge that many of my past assumptions about fairness and equality were, in a word, wrong). I'm just willing to assume that I'm not the only one who has failed to be perfect as we stumble through our lives together.

TTFN

Number 172

Clocking

So I'm sitting in my favorite coffee shop (yes, the Hag). I sat down planning to write about apologies and forgiveness (which will come next, in fairly short order), when I realized there was a trans woman sitting near me. Now you may wonder how I knew she was trans. Did my 'tranny sense' start tingling?* Was she wearing a sign? Did she give off a scent that only I could smell? No, it was none of those things. Sometimes you (and by "you" I mean "I"), just know. What do you think I did?

A. Went over and greeted her with the secret trans woman handshake.

B. Greeted her by her name since we obviously all know one another.

C. Both A & B, but I also tossed a handful of glitter into the air to celebrate us living our authentic lives.

D. Nothing.

It's not A. There is no secret trans woman handshake. I'm sorry to disappoint you, because I'm sure, if we had one, it would be fabulous. It's not B. We don't actually all know one another. Some of us are introverts. It's not C. Glitter is bad for the environment (sad but true). That leaves D as the correct answer (also sad but true).

However, this has less to do with shyness or introversion than you might imagine. It has much more to do with the concept of passing. "Passing" is a term used by our community to communicate how well our outward appearance resembles the gender image that most aligns with our own sense of gender. If a trans person is 'passing' well, a casual glance by the public at large sees them as a cis member of the gender they feel themselves to be. If they are 'passing' badly, the public sees them as the gender they were assigned at birth.

For some trans people, passing vs. not passing is a huge deal. For others, not so much. But since we don't actually all know one another, trans people tend to ignore each other when we come across each other. To do otherwise, is to be guilty of "clocking." This is a term used when anyone brings attention to a trans person specifically because they are trans. If you do this, you are guilty of clocking, and it is one of the worst gaffes you can make within the trans community. 

It's a shame, really, because there's not a trans person alive that doesn't need a little outside affirmation every once in awhile. And, in general, who understands better the particular challenges of being a trans person better than another trans person? It's not to imply that all trans people should automatically be best friends, or that we should convene a support group on the spot every time we encounter one another. But what would be wrong with a subtle nod of the head to one another? For many trans people, being out in public can be a scary thing. I think it would be wonderful if we could acknowledge one another's presence, if for no other reason then to let each other know we're not alone, or that at least one other person in the room is supportive.

Once again, I don't have an answer. The issue is actually more complex than my brief overview, in part because there are as many opinions as there are trans people. Or rather, since the continuum on the importance of passing is vast, we all just default to ignoring one another, unless we are specifically gathered in a setting geared towards our trans identities (ie. PRIDE, or some other gathering of queer folks). 

If you're old enough, you might remember a movie called The Sting. (Really, a great movie - search it out if you've never seen it.) In it, a group of con artists work to take down a mob boss. Every time they encounter one another in public, they acknowledge each another by subtly swiping their nose with a single finger. I wonder if I can get my trans brothers and sisters to adopt the same signal?

*Regarding my use of the word "tranny." I can use it. Other trans people can use it. Cis people cannot. For many in the trans community it is a hurtful, derogatory word. I only use it when trying to display my awesome sarcasm skills. And even then, I usually play around with language to see if there is another way to convey my intent without using it.

Number 171

 Nora Builds a New Life

Most of you know I had a wife, Rebecca, who passed away five years ago in February, 2016. Though I am intentional about continuing to reference her and our marriage in my posts, for the most part I have not written a great deal about her death. That's not going to change with this post, but it does kind of serve as a starting point for this entry.

I had a lot of thoughts in the hours after her unexpected death (go figure), but one of the clearest was the idea that, without her, the girls and I would soon be living on the streets without any health insurance. That irrational fear was soon put to rest. When I called our financial planner with the news of her passing the next day, he was stunned and saddened, but he immediately said, "You're OK. We planned for this," (meaning a worst case scenario-type situation). I shouldn't have been surprised. Rebecca had always been an amazing planner. She left us financially secure, in a house with no mortgage, and intact health insurance. 

In the years following her passing, the following things happened: I retired from teaching, and let my certification lapse. I began therapy which unearthed long buried thoughts of gender dysphoria. I surprised myself and fell in love again. Also, my two daughters grew into young adults who no longer needed me for daily (or even weekly), parental guidance. Finally, I realized I was a transgender woman and began my journey through the gender confirmation process. In other words, not much (haha).

For those of you who know anything about gender care, it will not surprise you a great deal that much of my time and energy since Rebecca's death has been focused on my transition. Not exclusively, mind you, but it certainly took a large majority of my attention. Two months ago, my efforts culminated in gender affirming surgery that left me feeling like a woman - both inside and out (yay!)

Since that time, I've felt a bit adrift. A large part of this, of course, was related to the considerable healing that needed to happen related to my surgery. There's not a great deal you can do when you're lying around weak and exhausted. The other part of my drifting is related to thoughts of "what now?" Where am I going to focus my time and attention now that I've, more or less, faced down and conquered my gender demons.

Before answering that, I need to go deep for a minute. What is the purpose of life? Why are any of us here? I am not super religious, though to outsiders looking in, I appear to be an observant Christian. I'm certainly not a nihilistic anarchist that feels that life just stumbles from one chaotic mess to another. Call me a philosophical spiritualist who believes we're all here for reasons greater than any of us are capable of understanding. Or maybe it's not that complicated. And what I mean by that is, when I strip my life down to its essential core, I believe I am here (indeed, all of us), to make the world a better place. And while I'm not so sure about the whole God thing, I am confident that the words/ministry of Jesus provide all the guidance I need to keep my eyes on that particular prize. (Which only means that that is the culture I am most familiar with; and not that there aren't other admirable folks for others to use as the 'North Star' for their own moral compasses.)

So I am rebuilding my life with my mind firmly set on doing 'good works' ... 

[Pardon the interruption: originally this part of the paragraph was filled with details of the things I am, or planning to do. But then it started to feel like I was going to dislocate my shoulder patting myself on the back, which was certainly not my intention when I came up with the idea for this post, so I deleted it. Let us now return to this paragraph, already in progress] 

... Of course, the main reason I have the time, resources, and ability to do these things are the numerous privileges and good fortune that have come my way during my lifetime. It is only appropriate for my to try and 'pay it forward.' With hope, I'll be successful.

TTFN

Number 170

 🌈 PRIDE Month

It's the first of June, 2021. That means it's the start of Pride Month. It's the one month each year where LGBTQIA+ folks (along with our wonderful, can't do it without you allies), celebrate our wonderfully varied, crazy, wack-a-doddle, authentically queer lives. For the record, we don't all know each other. As our world sloooooooowly emerges from our Covid enforced hibernation, this year is special. For the most part, Pride celebrations were canceled last year in response to the global pandemic. In that way, the queer community was one of the leaders in making the difficult, but prudent decision to put public safety ahead of individualized agendas. It was a hell of a sacrifice, because we love to throw big parties. 

It's the 52nd year for Pride. The first 'celebration' was actually a civil disturbance/riot (to-ma-to/to-mah-to), outside of the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, New York City in 1969. The Stonewall was a known gathering spot for homosexuals. As such, given the times, they were subject to regular harassment by the NYPD. However, by 1969, the queer community in the city had run out of patience. A violent confrontation with law enforcement followed. That there were many trans BIPOC individuals on the front lines is a particular point of pride (no pun intended), for me. Since then, this event has been thought of as the beginning of the still ongoing 'Gay Rights' movement.

As befits our legacy, there continue to be controversies in the queer community related to PRIDE events. Realistically, that will probably never change. C'est la vie. Currently there are three topics that cause the most angst: kink at PRIDE, law enforcement participation at PRIDE, and PRIDE being co-opted by the corporate world. I don't feel well enough informed about those three issues to offer an opinion. I have heard compelling pros and cons regarding all three. 

Perhaps it's not a surprise that there are people in the queer community that are disdainful of PRIDE events. Even the greatest works of art have detractors - and PRIDE events are definitely not great works of art. In fact, with all the different rainbows, they usually look like the aftermath of an explosion at the Lisa Frank folder factory. 

Personally, I love PRIDE events. To me, they feel like really big family reunions without all the interpersonal issues. I like gathering with my community when the focus is one of celebration rather than protest. It's true that I'm still relatively new to the whole thing, so maybe my ardor will cool off in a few years, but for now, I'm gonna put on my best rainbow clothing and wave my trans flag high!