Dear Susan: Am I Not Loving Gays When I Tell Them the “Truth” About Their Sin?

Dear Susan: Am I Not Loving Gays When I Tell Them the “Truth” About Their Sin?.

Constance, I hope this morning finds you well.  I also hope you will read Susan’s article in response to a letter she received on her blog.

I am posting it here because of the relevance of the attitudes of the correctors…not necessarily as a comment on the issue itself.

You see, I too have been victimized by people who say things like those referred to in this article:  I have had it hurled into my face by those who tell me with a straight face that it is their obligation to out me to others and comment on my transition to them (before I even have the chance myself to say a word to people who are unaware of my choice and the journey to that choice)…and then comes the coup de gras:  “If I don’t take this stand then your blood is on my head!”

Did you catch that?  I am deprived of my own chance to speak for myself in the name of being “loved”, and then told that the one “loving” me with such betrayal is doing so to avoid having my “guilt” attributed to them!!

So love is involved…but it is not love of me…it is also not love of the person they are gossipping about me to (yes, it is gossip)…the “love” that is in operation here is the love of self, which is idolatry.

Christians who violate other people in the name of love are simply practicing the sin of idolatry.

Susan comments very well on this subject…take a look.

And then consider a novel thought:  allowing God to be God and the One and Only True Knower of the Hearts of Human kind, and taking your place on level ground the moral equal of ones that you have judged and judge wrongly.

Do justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.tumblr_mnw8oxlzn11qapjp8o1_500

From Living to Die to Dying to Live

Constance…

Due to harsh circumstances both in my own life and in the life of my truest friend, I have been thinking a lot about death…

…what is death?

Is death the loss of animation, the exit of that ineffable spark undefinable?  Is it the fleeing of warmth and movement?

Or is it something more, something deeper and more final, more tragic and fatal?

Back up, waaaay back to when I was around 25 years old and torn asunder from myself and tromping all over me with the jackboots of performance and despair…at that time I considered that the days I had on this earth were a prison sentence that I had to serve before I was finally released through death and reunited with God.

I was living to die.

And in a very real and primal sense, I was already dead and just didn’t have the good grace to realize it and lay down somewhere.

But now?  Oh Constance, these days I endure “death” in so many ways…but it is in my deepest desire to live at last, so I am dying to live.  I have “died” in the workplace.  I have died to ever being able to go back and get a do-over.

And I have “died” to people…this is what grieves me most deeply as it is now that I am finally and fully alive and awake!

So I ask you:  does the declaration of others make me dead?  People who have not talked to me in forever?  People who resent me because in their hearts, I Charissa have killed their friend, their relative…

And yet they refuse to really know me, to taste my life and see that the Lord is good, good to me and thru me…

When someone doesn’t care deeply enough to experience my life, why are they so driven to declare me dead?

Honestly, it feels to me like they are the ones who are dead…they are dead to their responsibilities to the living.  They are dead in their hearts which should be tender and lively and rejoicing in good…at least it feels like that.

My very best dearest friend is facing death right now, stark and real.  Not some romanticised falsely tragic vision of death placed in service of a world view that is dedicated to self, but real, ugly, stinky, terrifying death carrying with it all of the ultimate and final separation that is the true horror called death.

I am sure she would get my heart cry:  dying to live rather than living to die.

I am thinking of her, as I was struggling with these ideas, and sending her all my love, and every single molecule of life I can channel from the Life Giver Themself!tumblr_nh42bx2QI21rpwlwto1_1280

 

Barry Williams Makes Insensitive Comments About Bruce Jenner And ‘Going Transgender’

Barry Williams Makes Insensitive Comments About Bruce Jenner And ‘Going Transgender’.

Constance…

You will notice that I have not as of yet commented on Bruce Jenner and the news that he is grappling with gender identity issues.  There are a lot of reasons why, beginning with the unfortunate context of his life in the “celebrity limelight” and running the gamut all the way down to the fact that Bruce has not made a comment yet on the record regarding the whole complex topic.

Therefore:  we do not yet know what is transpiring and thus should just wait.  Why wouldn’t we?  Why is it so important for everyone to know?

Ahh…that brings me to the real reason I haven’t commented:  I am hoping that by now you who regularly read here would be spotting the tropes, cliches and inaccuracies in the story.  Such as these:

One doesn’t ever change “gender”…we are born to the gender we identify as, and pretty much nothing can change that.  Based on the bell shaped curve that nearly every phenomenon of this world falls on, most people’s gender orientation and biological sex match up…but there are literally millions of people alive today, and sprinkled throughout the ages and epochs of history whose gender orientation and biological sex do not match.

Thus, to say that Bruce is “becoming a woman” is a deadly ignorant inaccuracy.  If Bruce is for real, and not simply exploiting a “hot topic” in service of the celebrity status that plagues that family, then Bruce has always been a woman, and is just now becoming congruent with the fact that Bruce’s biological body and gender orientation have been at odds in a lifelong conflict…and at long last is taking the steps necessary to invoke that congruency.tumblr_n988sx6qrY1re12ono1_500

Other repulsive things are being said and done, but one of the most repulsive is when people accuse Bruce of “going transgender”…such a story is behind the link that I put at the top of this post.  An aging ex-celebrity made this comment in the form of a bad joke and showed several things in it:

First of all, he showed the permanence and insistence of gender orientation!  Yes, the fact that he was outraged by it enough to joke about it shows the thing that I have written of many times before:  the outrage of so many cis-gender people when contemplating a “gender change”.  Since gender orientation doesn’t really change, the concept of body and orientation being juxtaposed is simply not acceptable as a state of being…welcome to our world!

If this idiot really did seek to transition his body, he would be buying a ticket on the train into gender dysphoria-ville, not out of it!

I say to this person:  go ahead.  Do it!  I dare you…start dressing female, start grappling with the rejection, the ridicule, the open stares of disgust, and the troglodyte attempts at humor that testosterone-fueled people make repeatedly…and thrive.

Wait, what?  You would hate that?  You would find the price not worth it because instead of gaining anything you lose everything?  Well, goodness gracious…isn’t that a shocker!!  You just discovered that you aren’t really transgender, and you proved the permanence of gender orientation!  Because truly dysphoric people do indeed walk the transition road I described above, endure the horrors I enumerated, and end up more whole as people, more at peace, and more fruitful as human beings inspite of all those bad things!

The peace and “fit” of gender orientation inside an incongruent body is such a deep and important factor in a healthy human organism that almost all of the terrible things we go thru seem as nothing compared to what we gain…if we are of stern enough mental mettle to endure the fiery trials that the cis-gender world rains down on us…driven as they are by their own horror at imagining living as the other gender with their own unchanging and unchangeable gender orientation!tumblr_n9kj52yfDb1tp8szvo1_500

But this first point, the location and persistence of gender orientation, is as nothing compared to the deeper and far more subtle inference that is on display:  that being a woman is a horrible thing and a human being should be ridiculed for openly embracing one’s being if they are doing so from within a biologically male body.

I mean, think about it:  since when did women have such a road in life that all they have to do is announce to a magazine that they are a woman and they immediately get a career, fame, fortune, attention, and ego gratification?

Since when did being a woman not mean making around .75 for every $1.00 a man makes in the same job?  Since when did being a woman not mean that merely walking down the street alone puts her at risk of sexual assault and possibly being murdered?  Since when did being a woman not mean dealing with being treated as an object of no value save what sexual pleasure she could provide and what reproductive opportunities she could grant?  Since when did being a woman in our world mean any kind of advantage at all???

Clearly, the man is an insensitive and unaware buffoon, and I wouldn’t even give him the time of day normally…but he provided such a good mirror opportunity for those who are thoughtfully educating themselves about gender orientation, those who are taking their courage in hand to realize that there is no inherent morality in how we are oriented, but rather in how we live that orientation out.

What other things do you see hidden in this man’s stupidity?tumblr_n9igfjjFFI1tuih7ho1_500

Now…back to Bruce.  I encourage you to read of this journey, from the most reputable sources you can find, and really listen.  Listen.  Listen to what Bruce says, if anything at all.  Listen to the way things are reported.  Listen to the spin that reporters put on things.

Pay attention to the patriarchal paradigm assumption that are foisted on this.  Notice them, and draw inferences from that.  Watch for the things that happen at the level of what is assumed, such as one’s status and worth as a female and one’s status and worth as a male.

Be aware of the gossip and talk surrounding you in your daily life when this topic comes up and the flaming ignorance that will abound and be celebrated…watch how that will be mostly male humans who act that way.

And then…I have no right to ask this of you, I realize, as I am transgender and thus of an inferior human caste, so I am humbly beseeching you, Cis-gender Constance…then consider maybe speaking up in the midst of this ridicule and flaming ignorance, and bringing some correction and truth and light into the situation.

I seem to remember some admonition that true religion involves defending the powerless and the alien, the widow and the orphan and the stranger…here is the perfect chance!

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly,

Charissa Gracetumblr_n81ff1rQWM1spq83no1_1280

…”and a little child shall lead them…”

Constance, I ran across this account from a blog aggregate site.  I am going to post it here without much comment, other than to say yes, I am aware of the scatalogical vocabulary, and urge you to overlook it in order to access the deeper truth.

It is towering to me that there is more of the gospel expressed in the lives of hearts that are simply oriented to love, regardless of dogma, orthodoxy or persuasion.

I wonder what would happen if we all practiced this sort of love, and left the judging and convicting and convincing to the One Person in the Entire Universe Whose job it is to do those things (Mama)?

Hmmmm…

*****     *****     *****     *****     *****

spaceyacey:

Fuck i’m crying now

So my mother was up to her usual shit; calling me useless and entitled. Saying that I’m no longer allowed in the bathroom with a shower and I need to clean the other one by noon tomorrow morning or else keep in mind it hasn’t worked in 3 years.

I was hiding in my bedroom while my parents argued over who’s fault I was when my sister came in. She walked up to me and opened up her fist revealing a rainbow popsicle ‘best friends’ necklace. She thrust it into my hand and whispered that she wanted me to have it.

“because it’s a popsicle?” I asked

“no silly because it’s a rainbow. I know- I mean- I thought you’d like it.”

She then winked and told me that I no longer needed to worry about cleaning the bathroom because she had spent the past hour doing it for me.

This seems so petty and small until you realize that for the past two years my parents have been doing their darnest to get rid of me. My sister will admit that I’ve always been the scapegoat but since I came out it seems their attacks are more pointed.

My sister is 11. She has grown up in a homophobic home and listened to my parents bitch about “those damn gays” her entire life. A couple months ago I came out to her and told her the reason our parents have been threatening to kick me out or send me away. I explained that sometimes gay girls and gay boys are even beaten up by people, just because of who they love.

I cannot express how much her support means to me; perhaps I am not the one who’s wrong. If an 11 year old who has been taught nothing but hate, perhaps there is hope for the future.

*****     *****     *****     *****     *****

Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:  for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’

“Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink?  When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’tumblr_mvv942qCB71ry5naio1_400

Transgender kids show consistent gender identity across measures

Transgender kids show consistent gender identity across measures.

Good Morning Constance!

I am posting this link for a couple of reasons:

First, because it is educational and will help you in your continuing learning curve regarding gender orientation…it may even inform you some about your own gender orientation, and why you hold it so strongly!

I have long theorized that the intense resistance to gender variant people is at root the projection of the power-holder’s  own deeply held gender orientation!  Because gender is so hardwired and awareness of it so deeply entrenched, it is impossible to imagine anyone who appears one way on the exterior who is so vastly different on the inside.tumblr_niuf18dk4c1r2zs3eo1_1280

In an odd sort of way, the very intensity of the resistance is the affirmation of the phenomenon!  All humans are intensely and deeply oriented gender-wise!  But what is becoming more and more known is that not all humans have a body whose biological assignment matches that interior orientation.

It’s actually pretty simple.

There is one other thing, though, that this article infers: just because I never said anything to you about my gender dysphoria doesn’t mean that it didn’t exist.  Just because I hid it…out of fear of rejection, ostracization, accusation, and ultimately alienation as “the other”…doesn’t mean that it wasn’t there.

By the way…those fears were well founded!  All of those things happened to me…sometimes it was by people who didn’t know any better.  Sometimes it was by people who do.  Regardless…it still happened.

Reader…no one “owes” you a justification for their orientation.  You are not on the Judgement Seat, you are not the one who passes muster on this topic about anyone…or, really, on any other topic.  It is not your place to make those calls.tumblr_nivnd26wg71qeku48o1_1280

It is your place to love God, and love your neighbor with pure religion which is caring for widows and orphans and outcasts.  Oh, and if you really want to know someone?  Get close enough to sample their life…taste the fruit that is there.  This is the one action that Jesus sanctioned as okay per His own words.

Oh wait:  I heard the objection to that one, when I was told that it was possible for me to manifest good fruit in my life (such as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness faithfulness, and self control, all things against which there is no law) and still be possessed by a demon!

Seriously, that was communicated to me.  The fruits of the Holy Spirit were present in my life by the power of the “transgender demon” that had possessed me!  That is sort of like saying that an oak tree was bearing the fruits of an apple tree or a pear tree!

Yes…it was indeed astonishing in its twisting of logic and reason, and yes it was indeed painful that the person who said this went on to say that unless I “got delivered” from this spirit and stopped the dangerous foolishness that is in actuality my transition, the person who said this would no longer associate with me or have anything to do with me or be my friend.1743621_10152939462053631_4900759173207350112_n

After over 3 decades.

A person who was born and raised in the church and steeped in scripture, who knows full-well Jesus’ words, is showing me the ugly face of modern christendom as expressed to LGTBQ people.

Well…I recall the old old chorus “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” which contains the verses that say “though none go with me, still I will follow” and “the cross before me, the world behind me”.  I am more deeply committed to these words than any other time in my life…and I am finding joy inexpressible and peace like a river in God.tumblr_mx3biu6O4M1t1ohj9o1_400

Constance, those of you who read here and are not christian are most likely shaking your heads and muttering that this is why you are not a christian!  Sadly, I cannot disagree with you.  This is not what it is to be a christian, abandoning people, shunning people…that is what it means to be a religious nut who loves themself more than God.

But please:  do not judge God by the insanity of some of Their followers…they know not what they are doing.  God is not like they are.  Not one bit.Image 003

And now we are at full circle, and the true rootedness of gender orientation is on display.

Christian Constance…non-christian Constance…all valued and received and loved by me Charissa…I exhort you to do what you know in your heart is the inarguable truth in relating to human beings in your life:  treat them the way you in your heart want to be treated by others, and do so as the proactive person in that transaction!

Don’t sit back and wait until someone does this for you!

Do it now…first!  Do it extravagantly, passionately!  Do it with undeniable vigor and gusto!  Do it, dripping with passion and love and joy and peace and patience and kindness and gentleness and faithfulness and goodness and self control!

And if you fall short?  M’eh!  Who doesn’t fall short?  Since when did the failing to achieve something obviate the goal?  Willie Mayes struck out a lot.  Michael Jordan missed a lot of game winning shots.  John Elway led his team to a couple of bitter Super Bowl defeats.  And all three athletes went on to lead their teams to glory and go down in the annals of sports history as among the greats of all-time.

Missing the mark is the best qualifier for your return to the range for more practice!

So practice the golden rule…love one another…and look for ways to affirm everyone you meet in every way you can!

Including gender orientation.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa Gracetumblr_n2dq0uj9xr1t4oyc2o1_500

When you call a transgender person by their birth-name:

Trans people shouldn’t have to “get over” being called by their birth name.

Mistakes are human, but keep in mind that they hurt, especially when it comes to identities.

How You Can Be A Trans-Ally

…just in case it got lost at the bottom of the last post!

tumblr_nie15vIO8O1u5rdwvo1_1280

Polarity vs Duality: Understanding the Way Forward

Constance…there is a plethora of provoking proclamations this morning!  I am pasting here the transcript to a talk given by Ash Beckham, in which she eloquently discusses “polarity vs duality” in regards to our being as humans sharing a common existential experience as expressed in a wonderful variety of ways…many faceted wonder.

The part that I put in blue text is the part that resonated particularly deep with me.

Oh…and her rhetorical question “Have you ever been called something that you’re not” and then her own recounting of how she felt?  Daily experience for me.  Just sayin.tumblr_mmpw60cPyT1r2q0ouo1_r1_1280

*****     *****     *****     *****     *****

Ash Beckham

September 2014 Boulder, Colorado

Ash Beckham: This summer I was back in Ohio for a family wedding, and when I was there, there was a meet-and-greet with Anna and Elsa from “Frozen.” Now, not the Anna and Elsa from “Frozen,” as this was not a Disney-sanctioned event. These two entrepreneurs had a business of running princess parties. Your kid turning 5? They’ll come sing some songs, sprinkle some fairy dust. It’s great. And they were not about to miss out on the opportunity that was the phenomenon that was “Frozen.”

So they get hired by a local toy store. Kids come in on a Saturday morning, buy some Disney sway, get their picture taken with the princesses, call it a day. It’s like Santa Claus without the seasonal restrictions. And my 3 1/2 year old niece, Samantha, was in the thick of it. She could care less that these two women were signing posters and coloring books as “Snow Queen” and Princess Ana with one n to avoid copyright lawsuits. According to my niece and the 200 kids in the parking lot that day, this was the Anna and Elsa from “Frozen.”

So let me paint the picture. It is a blazing hot Saturday morning in August in Ohio. We get there at 10:00, the scheduled start time, and we are handed number 59. By 11:00, they have called numbers 21 through 25. This was going to be a while, and there is no amount to free face painting and temporary tattoos that could prevent the meltdowns that were occurring outside of this store. So, by 12:30 we get called. “56-63, please.” And as we walk in, it is a scene I can only describe to you as saying it looked like Norway threw up. There were cardboard cutout snowflakes covering the floor, glitter on every flat surface, and icicles all over the walls.

And as we stood in line, in an attempt to give my niece a better vantage point than the backside of the mother of number 58, I put her on my shoulders and she was instantly riveted by the sight of the princesses. And as we moved forward, her excitement only grew. And as we finally got to the front of the line and number 58 unfurled her poster to be signed by the princesses, I could literally feel the excitement running through her body. And let’s be honest, at that point I was pretty excited, too. I mean, the Scandinavian decadence was mesmerizing.

So we get to the front of the line, and the haggard clerk turns to my niece and says, “Hi, honey. You’re next. Do you want to get down or are you going to stay on your dad’s shoulders for the picture?” And I was, for lack of a better word, frozen.

Hello my name is ?

It’s amazing that in an unexpected instant we are faced with the question, “Who am I?” Am I an aunt or am I an advocate? Millions of people have seen my video about how to have a hard conversation, and there one was right in front of me. At the same time, there’s nothing more important to me than the kids in my life, so I found myself in a situation that we so often find ourselves in — torn between two things, two impossible choices.

Would I be an advocate? Would I take my niece off my shoulders and turn to the clerk, and explain to her that I was, in fact, her aunt not her father and that she should be more careful and not jump to gender conclusions based on haircuts and shoulder rides, and while doing that, miss out on what is at this point the greatest moment of my niece’s life?

Or would I be an aunt? Would I brush off that comment, take a million pictures, and not be distracted for an instant from the pure joy of that moment? And by doing that, walk out with the shame that comes up from not standing up for myself, especially in front of my niece. Who was I? Which one was more important? Which role was more worth it? Was I an aunt or was I an advocate? And I had a split second to decide.

Us/Them

We are taught right now that we are living in a world of constant and increasing polarity. It’s so black and white, so us and them, so right and wrong. There is no middle, there is no gray, just polarity.

Polarity po-ler-e-te Noun 1. A state in which two ideas or opinions are completely opposite from each other 1. Diametrical opposition

Polarity is a state in which two ideas or opinions are completely opposite from each other, diametrical opposition.

Which side are you on? Anti War – Pro Choice – Anti Death Penalty – Pro Gun Regulation – Open borders – Pro Union or Pro War – Pro Life – Pro Death Penalty – Pro 2nd Amendment – Anti Immigrant – Pro Big Business

Which side are you on? Are you unequivocally and without question anti-war, pro-choice, anti-death penalty, pro-gun regulation, proponent of open borders, and pro-union? Or are you absolutely and uncompromisingly pro-war, pro-life, pro-death penalty, believe that the second amendment is absolute, anti-immigrant, and pro-business? It’s all or none. You’re with us or against us. That is polarity.

Now, the problem with polarity in absolute is that it eliminates the individuality of our human experience, and that makes it contradictory to our human nature. But if we’re pulled in these two directions but it’s not really where exist — polarity is not our actual reality — where do we go from there? What’s at the other end of that spectrum?

Duality du-a-le-te Noun 1. A state of having two parts 2. Simultaneous existence

And I don’t think that it’s unattainable harmonious utopia. I think the opposite of polarity is duality. Now, duality is a state of having two parts but not in diametrical opposition — in simultaneous existence. Don’t think it’s possible? Here are the people I know. I know Catholics that are pro-choice and feminists who wear hijabs and veterans who are anti-war and NRA members who think I should be able to get married.

Those are the people I know. Those are my friends and family. That is the majority of our society. That is you. That is me. Duality is the ability to hold both things, but the question is can we own our duality? Can we have the courage to hold both things?

So I work at a restaurant in town and became really good friends with the busser. I was a server, and we had a great relationship. We had a really great time together. Her Spanish was great because she was from Mexico. That line actually went the other way. Her English was limited but significantly better than my Spanish. But we were united by our similarities not separated by our differences.

And we were close even though we came from two very different worlds. She was from Mexico. She left her family behind so she could come here and afford them a better life back home. She was devout, conservative Catholic, a believer in traditional family values, stereotypical roles of men and women. And I was, well, me. But the things that bonded us were when she asked me about my girlfriend or she shared pictures that she had from her family back home. Those were the things that brought us together.

So one day we were in the back scarfing down food as quickly as we could, gathered around a small table during a very rare lull. And a new guy from the kitchen came over, who happened to be her cousin, and sat down with all the bravado and machismo that his 20-year-old body could hold. And he said to her “Does Ash have a boyfriend?” And she said “No, she has a girlfriend.” And he said, “A Girlfriend?!” And she set down her fork and locked eyes with him and said “Yes, a girlfriend. That is all.”

And his smug smile quickly dropped to one of maternal respect, grabbed his plate, walked off, went back to work. She never made eye contact with me. She left, did the same thing. It was a 10 second conversation, just a short interaction. And on paper she had so much more in common with him — language, culture, history, family. Her community was her lifeline here. But her moral compass trumped all of that. And a little bit later they were joking around in the kitchen in Spanish that had nothing to do with me, and that is duality. She didn’t have to choose some PC stance on gayness over her heritage.

She didn’t have to choose her family over our friendship. It was not Jesus or Ash. Her individual morality was so strongly rooted that she had the courage to hold both things. Our moral integrity is our responsibility, and we must be prepared to defend it even when it’s not convenient. That’s what it means to be an ally, and if you’re going to be an ally you have to be an active ally. Ask questions, act when you hear something inappropriate, actually engage.

I had a family friend who, for years, used to call my girlfriend my lover. Really? Lover? So overly sexual. So ’70s gay porn. But she was trying, and she asked. And she could have called her my friend or my “friend” or my special friend or even worse just not asked at all. Believe me, we would rather have you ask. I would rather have you say “lover” than say nothing at all.

People often say to me, “Well, Ash, I don’t care. I don’t see race or religion or sexuality. It just, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t see it.” But I think the opposite of homophobia and racism and xenophobia is not love, it’s apathy. If you don’t see my gayness, then you don’t see me. If it doesn’t matter to you who I sleep with, then you cannot imagine what it feels like when I walk down the street late at night holding her hand and approach a group of people and have to make the decision if I should hang on or I should drop it when all I want to do is squeeze it tighter. And the small victory I feel when I make it by and don’t have to let go. And the incredible cowardice and disappointment I feel when I drop it.

If you do not see that struggle that is unique to my human experience because I am gay, then you don’t see me. If you are going to be an ally, I need you to see me. As individuals, as allies, as humans we need to be able to hold both things. Both the good and the bad, the easy and the hard. You don’t learn how to hold two things just from the fluff, you learn it from the grit. And what if duality is just the first step? What if through compassion and empathy and human interaction we are able to learn to hold two things? And if we can hold two things we can hold four. And if we can hold four we can hold eight. And if we can hold eight we can hold hundreds. We are complex individuals swirls of contradictions. You are all holding so many things right now. What can you do to hold just a few more?

So, back to Toledo, Ohio. I’m at the front of the line, niece on my shoulders, the frazzled clerk calls me “dad.” Have you ever been mistaken for the wrong gender? Then, not even that. Have you ever been called something you are not? Here’s what it feels like for me. I am instantly an internal storm of contrasting emotions. I break out into a sweat that is a combination of rage and humiliation. I feel like the entire store is staring at me, and I simultaneously feel invisible. I want to explode in a tirade of fury and I want to crawl under a rock.

And top all of that off with the frustration that I am wearing an out-of-characteristic, tight-fitting purple t-shirt, so this whole store can see my boobs, to make sure this exact same thing doesn’t happen. But, despite my best efforts to be seen as the gender I am, it still happened. I hope with every ounce of my body that no one here heard. Not my sister, not my girlfriend, and certainly not my niece. I am accustomed to this familiar hurt, but I will do whatever I need to do to protect the people I love from it.

But then I take my niece off my shoulders, and she runs to Elsa and Anna, the thing she’s been waiting so long for. And all that stuff goes away. All that mattered is the smile on her face. And, as the 30 seconds that we waited 2 hours for, comes to a close, we gather up our things, and I lock eyes with the clerk again. And she gives me an apologetic smile and mouths, “I’m so sorry.” And her humanity, her willingness to admit her mistake, disarms me immediately, and I give her a, “It’s OK. It happens,” type of thing.

And I realize in that moment that I don’t have to be either an aunt or an advocate. I can be both. I can live in duality, and I can hold two things. And if I can hold two things in that environment, I can hold so many more things. And as my girlfriend and my niece hold hands and skip out the front of the door, I turn to my sister and say, “Was it worth it?” And she said, “Are you kidding me? Did you see the look on her face? This was the greatest day of her life. It was worth 2 1/2 hours in the heat. It was worth the overpriced coloring book that we already had a copy of. It was even worth you getting called ‘Dad.'” And for the first time ever in my life, it actually was. Thank you, Boulder. Have a good night.

TEDxBoulder is Supported by Applied Trust

END TRANSCRIPT

There may be small errors in this transcript.

How You Can Be A Trans-Ally

Police search for clues in murder of transgender woman in Texas – LGBTQ Nation

Police search for clues in murder of transgender woman in Texas – LGBTQ Nation.

Constance, I am sure you already know about this crime, and so my posting it here is redunda…oh wait…of course you haven’t heard about it yet!

It is just a “so-called transgender woman”…poor thing just got what she deserved.

Nope…nothing wrong here.  Move along, move along.

Obviously, I was writing sarcastically to expose the reality of the underlying assumptions that empower the continued lack of it being any sort of an agenda item to protect the rights and well-being of transgender people.

And the count rolls on…good thing we have a transgender remembrance day so her death will not be in vain, right?  She can now serve as a lil tidbit for the cis-gender world to consume as an assuagement of conscience!  A lil “transgender tums” to relieve the indigestion caused by the wanton devouring of transgender people.

Do JUSTICE

Love MERCY

Walk HUMBLY

Francisco_de_Goya,_Saturno_devorando_a_su_hijo_(1819-1823)

Charissa Meditations on Rape, Gender and the Patriarchy

Idaho Chief of Police Mic Drops On Transgender ‘Bathroom’ Bill Section.

Good Morning Constance…

I am pressing this article here on Grace Notes for a couple of reasons:  the low hanging fruit here, of course, is the putting on blatant naked display the kind of ignorance and misogyny that transgender people face…but specifically transgender women face to a far larger degree than transgender men do.  As I read the kinds of assumptions that are made and asserted, I am astounded at the towering lack of knowledge and the even deeper unwillingness to be educated about the issue.
tumblr_niqt0jmmzu1r2zs3eo1_1280

But let’s dig a bit deeper here…note that the primary canard that is hysterically hurled over and over again is that “men” want to rape women, and so they will go to any length to engage in this violation, including “dressing up as a woman”, entering a bathroom, and then feasting like a wolf on defenseless denizens within.  Thus we cannot risk allowing transgender women to use the women’s restrooms, but will force them into men’s restrooms…

…Constance, did you catch that assumption that slides right by and gets a nod of tacit agreement?  And did you see the inherent contradiction that is actually supported by documented epidemic-like numbers?

The assumption is that men are creatures with one primal driving force in their lives…having sex.  Even if it means taking sex from unwilling females who are just in the general vicinity.  The assumption is that we need to build our society around this reality and do our best to just “limit the damage” caused by this basic fact about men.

Rape is institutionalized as an accepted feature of our society!tumblr_nit5kckaeX1s1vn29o1_1280

Rather than deal with that underlying horror and the cultural constructs that have given rise to the unspoken reality that men not only take what they want sexually but are entitled to this taking, we instead get ourselves all twisted up over the bathroom.  Rather than teach our little boys how to be real human beings and what being male means, and what it does not mean, we just sort of wring our hands and hide our eyes when the moon is full and hope the werewolf stays away from our door.

We are fully capable of this teaching…if:  if anyone really knew anymore what it means to be a man!  What does that mean, men?  To you…what does it mean to be a man?  And, as part of your journey of discovery, have you ever inquired of women what being a man means?  Have you ever even thought to seek some of your self-definition in the understanding and grappling with what it means to be a woman?tumblr_nipdsiK2LD1rv5690o1_1280

See how this would preclude rape as an even slightly acceptable option for men?

But no…this is not what we do with that subject of rape:  we continue to keep it disconnected from the poison and demonic roots from which it sprang, and those are the roots of patriarchy and male privilege.  Women already know this, men, but for your own education…ask any woman you know what kinds of situations does she feel safe from the possibility of being raped.  Ask yourselves how you have socialized your own daughters regarding dress, safety in public places, when to be outdoors and when to be home “safe”.  Ask any woman if they think they are made safe from the possibility of being raped just because transgender women are kept from the right restrooms…

And that leads us to a deeper reality:  the reality, backed up by the blood and tears and horror and even murder of transgender women…who have been forced into men’s restrooms and there been harassed, assaulted, raped, and left for dead (if they are lucky) or murdered outright!  This is an actual fact that happens hundreds of times a year.  The dynamic I wrote of in the preceding section of my essay here is given free reign!  As a society we are demanding that some women be placed into serious jeopardy to their very beings and existence…because we refuse to deal with the horror of rape as a feature of the patriarchal paradigm we are all enslaved by.tumblr_nhp3bxAGEi1r3lb7ro1_1280

It is another example of how rape is sanctioned as part of the price that must be paid by women in order for all men to retain their granted privilege…and the really awful thing about this particular expression of this blood-spattered reality is the sad result on display of how some women become collaborators with the paradigm:  they would rather consign their transgender sisters to this fate than stand against the oppression and iron-fist of the patriarchy!  This is a phenomenon not unlike how certain Jews collaborated with the Nazis in the hopes that they would then be left alone and unharmed.

It is a Mephistophelian bargain…the soul is lost in the gaining of a few untroubled hours.  Sadly, it puts the pervasive infestation of the patriarchy’s insidious distortions of masculinity and femininity on furious display!  And the fruits…rotten, poison, despairing.tumblr_ni8qguc8Kd1qkezoco1_540

But now I want to get to the deepest reality for transgender people and specifically transgender women:  the deepest reality for me.

When people rant and rave in public hearings such as happened at the one the article speaks of, they communicate to me that I am utterly worthless of knowing, inquiring of, or understanding.

They blatantly display their own ignorance, assumption, and unwillingness to have those things enlightened and transformed!

I can tell you that when I read about what they think I want to do in the restroom, I am staggered with the mainifestations of their own evil imaginations of things that have literally never entered my heart at any time…and then I am defeated by the weights of ignorance and unwillingness that press down, inexorable and unrelenting.

All of the ignorance about transgender is displayed as if it is a float at the Rose Parade, and then it is lauded and institutionalized…and the marginalization of an oppressed segment of people is further cemented.kushiel

There is a logical question that comes to mind, as we work our way thru the house of mirrors that is the current paradigm, and that is this:  Why not make a place for transgender people to testify at these hearings…to say why they want to use the bathroom of their choice?  After all, that is what happens at other hearings of any kind:  testimony is sought from all parties interested and affected, so why not here?

Ahh…you follow me, don’t you?  Because our perspective is considered invalid at best and insidious at worst.  We do not have any valid standing in this present paradigm.  We are human chattel, and need to be either “fixed”, “healed”, “delivered”, or forced to “repent of the sin of being created transgender”.

And what is worse?  Even if there was a forum offered us to testify, very few of us would come forward…because that would be to make ourselves visible, and incur the wrath of family, so-called friends, and virtual strangers.  From that moment on we would hear the snickers when we walked by, the shouted insults and slurs, the out and out hatred blazing from the eyes of people who have never even talked to us but somehow know we are “bad” because they know we are transgender.tumblr_nibcqj8GLi1s5neh1o1_1280

So, sadly…we hang back.  We stay silent…and suffer.

Listen:  if you know of a transgender person, take some time to get to know them.  Talk to them, and not with an agenda.  Treat them the way you yourself would like to be treated.  Use their name.  I can tell you this:  when people use my name it is the most gentle and tender healing in my soul.

Hey…we just want to breathe, like anyone else…and use the bathroom when we need to potty.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.
Charissa Grace10168117_776099229127125_8050935839656435878_n

Why Reverse Oppression Simply Cannot Exist (No Matter What Merriam-Webster Says) — Everyday Feminism

Why Reverse Oppression Simply Cannot Exist (No Matter What Merriam-Webster Says) — Everyday Feminism.

What a great article, one that plays directly into the post I just made about Side-B and the ex-gay movement.

The point here?  When you are in power it is by definition impossible to be oppressed…and what most people who have privilege do not realize??

Being treated mean does NOT equal being oppressed.

Period…period.  Oppression is a systematic squelching of all hope, light and life…and yeah, it is indeed mean…but meanness is not oppression in and of itself.

Thoughtfully consider the points here…and then go out, and give up some power!

tumblr_nh4wuopi8N1s2z59jo1_1280

“When Side B is the New Ex-Gay”

“When Side B is the New Ex-Gay”.

Oh Constance…what a poignant and well written post awaits you behind the above link!  Please head over and read it, and while you do, keep in mind something:

As John Pavlovitz says, it is no longer possible for you to bury your head in the sand of platitudes and assumptions about what it means to be gay or lesbian or transgender and be in love with God all at once.

Let me be clear with you all:  my gender journey is not like the one that gay and lesbian christians are on, in that my journey is not about who I feel sexual attraction to, but rather it is an adventure that involves living out my female being in this body that is biologically male…okay?  It is important you know that.

I also want to again reiterate and confess something:  much to my great sorrow, before I was personally confronted by Mama about my gender identity, in inescapable ways, before that incredible and sacred day?  Well, I really didn’t do a whole lot more than mouth platitudes myself.  I didn’t really think about it much.  Oh, I have talked with many gay men who have sought me out to confide in me…but while I was kind and loving to them?  I really had nothing to offer other than the same old junk that I had been taught myself.

I was not capable of walking in their shoes!  I had no true empathy with their plight and path.  And thus I had no true motivation to really discover what their life is!

We made friends with a lesbian couple who have become very dear friends…in fact, they were the first people I came out to…but even in that friendship, I still didn’t know.

Well, I do now.

I do…cus I get it now, I get the same discrimination.  I get the same hatred.  I get the same rejection.  I get judged the same way with virtually the same judgments.  I pay some of the same prices, and I pay additional different ones.

But besides that?  What I got was a huge dose of Humble Pie from Them…because it was so absolutely clear to me that I had not been truly like Jesus when I thought I was being like Him.  I was so blinded by my own arrogant preening righteousness.  I was so certain that the people that I talked to were just trying “to justify their sin”…as if every single other f***king christian in history hasn’t done the same g*dd*m thing!!

Every.  Single.  One.

Friend…you who “prays for me, that I will be delivered from this deception”, you should rend your own hearts and pray for yourself, that God would send you to Damascus and perhaps knock you off your ass and the scales from your eyes.

You just don’t know.  You think you do…but you don’t.

People deal with all matters of interaction with God in all manner of ways…and you aren’t qualified to pass muster on them.  But you are qualified to lay down your weapons, lay down your platitudes and easy caricature-arguments, and simply love…lift…and laugh.

Point to Jesus, not at sin.  Point to the Cross and not to anything else.  And then actually spend some time with people.  Go to the Gay Christian Network Conference…Go to a Reconciling in Christ Meeting…Go to a welcoming of LGTBQ church…talk to the clergy…talk to the congregants…listen…listen.

And when done listening…well, listen some more.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa GraceImage 001

How to Respect a Transgender Person: 9 Steps (with Pictures)

How to Respect a Transgender Person: 9 Steps (with Pictures).

Good Morning Constance!  🙂  I hope all is well in your life today.  If you are facing obstacles, may our wonderful God provide you with the Grace needed to transform obstacle into opportunity, resulting in the joy of having overcome.

I am linking to this article today, because I think there are many people who read here who are allies, but still learning how to demonstrate that alliance in fruitful and effective ways.  It is simple and direct without being buffoonish and reductionist.

Please take these things seriously…they matter to us.  I will never forget how small I felt when I was told by someone who claimed to love me that they refused to compromise their faith and they were compelled by their conviction towards God to tell everyone they interacted with about me and that they considered me disobedient to God and in sin and deception because I had decided to transition.

To this day, I can feel that sharp sting, followed by that numbing zing like powerless electricity thru my bones…not good for anything but hurting…

I think the thing that really strikes me is how many things are done in God’s Name that are really a mere reflection of an individual’s own attempts to prove to themselves or to others that they are really and truly a Christian.  In my case, it was as if this person was worried that someone would think ill of them if they did not make sure and let everyone know first of all that I was transitioning and second of all that they “knew” that I was “sinning”, but most importantly that they themself had sought to warn me and were thus the heroic rescuer who had valiantly attempted to save me…and their efforts were “unsuccessful” but only because of my deceived, rebellious and unsubmitted state.

That interaction left its marks.  It showed me, sadly, that love is too often only word deep, and is forced into the template of self and put under the pressure of self-serving agendas, and what is extruded from that certainly is not love.  And it is interesting that I have not heard from that person since…I think primarily because they were “shaking the dust off of their shoes” after warning me of what was going to happen to me:  I was going to be outed at their own discretion, and then each person that I was outed to was going to be fed a version of me that came from another person…not from me.

But God is faithful…God is good.  They have added people into my lives of such amazing quality and genuine heart!  I have acquaintances now who I see a lot, present in my life and feeding in encouragement, truth, goodness, and love.

So it is not really so much about me, whatever “ruination” is come my way reputation-wise…but rather, it is about the words said about someone to someone else and then repeated again and repeated again take on a “telephone game” quality.  Eventually they will come to someone who has gender issues themself or knows someone who does…and the full implication will communicate to them that they are not okay and loved, valued in and of themselves for who they are…and bam.

Another Leelah Alcorn.
Another statistic.
Another life tragically lost…

…and in the name of “love”.

So:  head on over, read…get educated…and resolve in your heart that God is God and you are not, and that loving someone with kindness in word and deed is never going to sully Them or yourself.  This would be the “walk humbly part.”

Do justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly.

Charissa

7 Reasons the Church Should Be Afraid NOT to Affirm LGBTQ

7 Reasons the Church Should Be Afraid NOT to Affirm LGBTQ.

Okay, so this post is startling in its implications.  The author relates a Q she was asked by a friend, who was fearful for her.  Her friend asked the author “What if you’re wrong affirming LGTBQ people as loved of God and worthy of being received as part of Christ’s Body”…

She turns that Q on its head in her post, and asks “What if you are wrong in fearing and rejecting LGTBQ human beings?”  And then she goes on to list 7 potential consequences of that wrongness.

Her plea?  Just love.  Since you really aren’t the Holy Spirit, you are off the hook in correcting anyone and you are free to just love and trust that God is big enough to get the message across.

I mean…hey, They got it across to you, didn’t They?  If They are powerful enough to get it across to you, well then They can get it across to anyone!  Right?

Right!

To a Church That Dehumanizes Gays

To a Church That Dehumanizes Gays.

This letter.

Read.

Constance…pure and simple, the church simply must search its heart and come up with a better response than it currently has towards LGTBQ people.

I fear that it may never but for the same reason that so many cis-gender people may never grapple with the discrimination and hatred that is exuded towards transgender people:  if it doesn’t affect you, you generally fail to really let it impinge upon your comfort.

When you are impacted by either of these issues, or really any issue, then it changes your heart and opens your eyes.

Blessed are those who would humble themselves and ask for a heart like Jesus and eyes like Mama.

Loving LGBT People Well, 12 Suggestions for Traditional Churches | A Queer Calling

Loving LGBT People Well, 12 Suggestions for Traditional Churches | A Queer Calling.

Good Morning Constance!  🙂  Once again I want to thank you for being here, on Charissa’s Grace Notes with me, and journeying in your own ways from works and death to Grace and Life…your presence here, your comments, your shared humanity brings me hope and adds ammunition for those lonely times in the night when all are sleeping, all is still, and I watch…awake on the walls.   ❤ Thank you ❤

So the link above is from an interesting blog that is worth perusing.  It lists several suggestions for Christian people to love and serve in ways consistent with the gospel, and likely far more congruent with the heart of Jesus Himself, the Great Friend of Sinners.

We have all heard the old saw “love the sinner and hate the sin”…heck, prolly a whole lot of people who read here have even said that.  I have before…much to my great regret…I have indeed.  When I did, I didn’t really realize what that said and implied about the person I was speaking to…and even worse what it said and implied about my own heart and self evaluation.

Alas…what I and others were usually saying is we think the loving thing to do is make sure the person knows they are a sinner.  And quite simply, this is just not the way that Jesus did things…oh wait!  There were times that He outright called people out on their sins!  I forgot about those!

Yeah…it was to the Pharisees!  Ya know those folks of that day who were the ones who loved to point out how everyone else was a sinner!  He ripped them a new one over and over and over again because who they were in their own eyes was more important than who their neighbor is in God’s eyes…and that is fatal.

Of course I am not advocating “loving sin” by opposing the use of that phrase!  Don’t be ridiculous!  What I am saying is you ought to major in people, and minor in sin management.  After all, your skills at sin management must suck, or Jesus would not have felt the need to descend from His state in Heaven, take on human flesh, and then suffer and die for you (ya know, a sinner).  Right?  If you were capable of managing sin, well then He would have just encouraged and taught you until you got it right!

Jesus never said “love the sinner but hate the sin”, and no one believes that meant that Jesus was compromising, prevaricating, or condoning anything evil.  No…Jesus understands one crucial thing:

Saying Yes to Love is far more effective and powerful than saying No to sin.

The true YES renders the no moot.

And that brings me to why I link to this article, because if we are going to discard futile harmful platitudes, then how to we pick up effective and edifying alternatives?

They list a dozen, and they are “process oriented” and not items that you can check off on your daily righteousness list.

They demand that you see the people in your life as your moral equals.
They demand that you give the people in your life the same standing as worthy of God’s love as you have.
They demand that you understand that your perspective is extremely limited and insufficient by definition, as you are a very finite, very imperfect, and very limited being.

As you go, take with you my lil motto that I have pulled from Micah 6.  It is a superb guide for keeping it simple and loving.  And it has an order of listing for a reason.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.
Love, Charissa

tumblr_ngs5owtcyu1s2z59jo1_1280

Statements of being, not of preference!”

“Let’s hope this will be the year when we stop using language that invalidates transgender and nonbinary people. Our gender is as valid as everyone else’s.”

Why did David Reimer commit suicide?

Why did David Reimer commit suicide?.

Dear Constance:

Okay, so you wanna know what it is like to be transgender?  Well…read the article at the link above.  It is the story of a natal male who was horribly maimed during circumcision and was then subjected to a further mutilation of his body to “change him into a girl”.  The theory was that gender identity was purely a matter of external plumbing, and that if this little person “woke up” and saw their external plumbing was female, and that their clothes were female and their name was female and they were treated as female by everyone else, well they would just “be female”, case closed and everyone lives happily ever after.

Except it was an illusion.  A tragic and horrible illusion.  And it ended in suicide after 38 years of horror and suffering.  The article explains that all very well.

So how does it relate to a transgender person?  It goes to the location and seat of gender identity!  Under the current paradigm of the binary gender orientation, I am defined by my external plumbing.  From birth, I have been named, dressed, treated and socialized in the role consistent with my external genetalia, regardless of how I feel, think, or see the world which is totally the opposite…and this contradiction results in the same sorts of feelings and reactions as this poor soul in the article.  Oh, I processed things a bit different, but as I read of his despair, well it was too close to home.

Imagine for a moment:  if you woke up tomorrow, and all your clothes were the other gender…everyone you knew called you by a name that felt like sand in your own mouth and heart…you were expected to excel in the roles assigned by the opposite gender…you were expected to “know” the things the opposite gender has as inherent to them…

Maybe even at first you would think “cool”, what a chance to see the other side!  (Disregard the fact that you have prior experience already “seeing” your correct and natural side and would carry that experience with you as a help and buffer…we transgender people don’t even have that much).

But eventually, you would tire of this…enough, you would think.  I am going back to my real self, laying all this crap aside.

Oh but wait!  Everyone everywhere and every arm of society is now poised against you like the bramble bushes that were against Prince Charming as he sought to set Sleeping Beauty free!  It is all one giant Mirkwood filled with Shelobs and worse!  You show up to work wearing your right clothes and get mocked, threatened and terminated.

I think you get my point.

Gender is not located in external plumbing, and when your internal sense of gender and your external manifestation of this don’t line up the conflict is cataclysmic!

But the reverse is also true!  When a person’s body is surgically attended to with skill and care, and brought into alignment with the internal sense of gender, why voila!  The conflict dramatically diminishes and even disappears…and normal life happiness results.

We have always been taught not to judge a book by its cover.  We are taught that it is not outward appearance that impresses God, for They regard the heart and assess that.  So why in the world do we insist on imposing gender standards from the outside in, rather than discovering who our family and friends are from the inside out?

Listen:  being transgender is not a mental illness.  It is not a demonic spirit, any more than epilepsy is either of those…or a cleft palate is either of those…or a leaky heart valve is either of those.

Being transgender is a state of being, one that has been a part of the human experience of gender as far back as historical records extend, and it is across all cultures and races…it is something that is a function of the core of some people’s lives…

BUT:  if this condition is left untreated, then that neglect can result in horrible consequences: addictions, depressions, emotional and spiritual despairs, and ultimately the overwhelming desire to not hurt anymore, suicide.

But no…for some reason that completely mystifies me, we think that transgender humans are “adopting a lifestyle” or “adopting a new sexual proclivity” or are “seeking to overthrow marriage” or “rebelling against God”, or “are freaks” or…or…or…

It never ends, those “or”s.

If you are an ally, thank you, and please continue to support with your time, talent and treasure until these lies are shattered and a whole beautiful segment of humanity is liberated.

But if you aren’t…if you are “neutral” or simply new or think it is blechy…well just imagine if you were forced…yeah.  Not good.

I am a letter, and the envelope I am in has changed…a lot.  But I am still the same letter I always was…and if you have courage, maybe I will let you read me!  🙂

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa

za_pavucinou_by_tomsumartin-d6ras8t

Transmisogyny 101: What It Is and What Can We Do About It — Everyday Feminism

Transmisogyny 101: What It Is and What Can We Do About It — Everyday Feminism.

Dear Constance…I would be honored if you would read the article I linked to above.  It is about a real thing, a thing that I am experiencing more and more each day that goes by.

For real…transmisogyny is real.  I know first hand.

I want to tell you something:  if someone you know is transphobic and/or transmisogynistic, and you know better but do not stick up for the transgender people you know, then you are empowering that transphobia/misogyny.

They are not going to truly understand and get it that it is not okay to be that way until it hits them directly…affects them directly, and with consequences.

Constance…this is not the ranting of a shrill disenfranchised jealous outcast.  I was for 53 years considered amongst the brightest and the best.  I am a college graduate, with a 4.0 GPA since I was in the 7th grade.  I was a respected speaker, thinker, and leader.

And then I committed “Gender Murder” when I chose to transition and become myself…I was guilty of two unforgivable sins in our patriarchy:  first, choosing to be female when I could simply “be” male…and second:  “wasting a perfectly good man” as I was told…literally told that.

Did you get that?  To be a woman when I could continue to fake it as a man was a waste.

Cis-Sisters:  when you allow transmisogyny/phobia to occur in your presence, you actually reinforce your own worth-less-ness in the eyes of the patriarchy in general and the person hating in specific!

Cis-brothers:  when you allow people to hate on transgender people, especially when you allow other males to do that, you are tacitly hating too…and you are not only hating transgender people, you are devaluing your own wives, daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts, grandmothers and female friends.  You make a mockery of nobility and civility and honor.

Strong words.

I know, right?  The nerve of me…pleading for sincere and honest action to back up words with.

But hey…it’s either that, and the potential discomfort it will cause for a bit, or it is stay silent, and work on that Transgender Remembrance Day Roster for next November…and you can sit in silence and feel good about your courageous acknowledgement of more dead people while their blood cries out in echo of the previous year’s…and the previous year’s…and…and…

My prayer is that one day we don’t even know what a transgender remembrance day is…because there is no more need for one.

PS:  If you are reading and thinking “but I don’t even know a transgender person” then I will clue you in:  you likely do, but don’t know they are transgender…and even if you don’t, then I ask why not?  If you have sympathy with our plight, there are services you can volunteer with, there are transgender people who need help, and all of us need a friend.

PPS:  And you still should make sure those around you know that it is not okay to be misogynistic/phobic, trans- or otherwise.

In serious stillness and love,
Charissa

Mama Comments on Charissa’s Comments on Leelah

Dear Constance…

Nights are not good.

Almost every night of my life since I was around 4 I wake up in the night, and I am petrified.  Skert stiff, and I mean that literally.  I don’t know why.  And inner voices that say horrible things that crush…flat, inflectionless, as if I am so worthless that those voices will not even waste their powers on one as meritless as I.  No need to tell you what they say.tumblr_ng9ytraHch1rznwtzo1_500

In 1966 I was exposed to a horror movie that really hooked into my dysphoria and an extremely traumatic event that had taken place a few months earlier, and since then, I have bad dreams, too.tumblr_lyzkcoRLuB1qc0cxpo1_500

That’s a lot of years.
That’s a lot of fears.
That’s a lot of tears.

As I grew, I discovered that talking with God helped…some.  And after I had grown some more, I learned to recognize Their voice back to me…each one distinct and each one full of Love.

Well, if you have been reading here lately you know that I have been in a rough patch.  A bit challenging in fact.  And those voices?  The ones that say crushing and horrible things?  They have utilized the raw materials in my life of trial, betrayal, abandonment, loss, and sorrow, and added that weight and depth and breadth to their curses…and I could not escape their toxin.  I had to just listen…and endure.tumblr_lzo2uhPk6v1r1kan8o1_1280

Until last night…after waking, freezing, cramping, clenching, crying…and ripping apart again…

I heard my Mama’s voice quiet and sure, certain underneath the Mordor doom-drums and orc snarls…and we talked.  A long time.

At the end, She exhorted me to write some of what She told me…here on Grace Notes…as a faith step and an exercise…an attempt to call myself into fullness and being, because I have languished for so many years encased in roles, expectations and binary bondages.  I have even torn myself in two in my desperate attempt to perform and thus be worthy of love and acceptance…and so all those voices whispering all those years are like a gravitational pull to be overcome.tumblr_nhh7fcE3RD1twprg3o1_400

So here is a bit of what Mama told me…translated from spirit/soul/heart talk to written words:

I am Charissa Grace, and I am not the person everyone thought me to be (including myself).  tumblr_nhf6qrQfda1rpe84qo1_1280

I am made sensitive and tender…so I feel the pains and sorrows and hurts and worries of everything and everyone around me…in the same way that a tuning fork hit with vibrations will itself vibrate in frequency, or a crystal goblet will sound when it is circled with a finger.

It is not a function of something wrong in me when I feel all of that…it is a function of how my Mama created me, and so I am to stop calling myself names and blaming myself for things that are not my fault…they are simply the things that I feel because of how I am made by Her.

I am made to drink cups and drain dregs…many of them bitter and some sweet.

I am made to transform things…to catalyze their becoming into who and what they are destined to be, but I myself am not made a part of that…rather I remain apart…alone, and in my Mama’s Hands.mamas hands

I am precious to Her, and She watches over me in such Joyous Jealousy, having purposed to allow me to experience pain in order for Her good riches to be birthed into this world.

I am Mama’s womb of Life…having no womb of my own and born so barren and lonely.  She intentionally formed me intricate, delicate and robust, so easily woken but desperately determined to hang on…hang on…hang on.

I am Her Instrument and She delights in my unique and utterly singular voice, and so She tunes me…constantly…to be sure I am in tune to Her song, Her heart…She tightens me, She loosens me.tumblr_nh5lyiVPc31qgk7mfo1_500

Above all…I am not evil.  I am not “wrong” or “null” or “nothing” or a “monster” or a “freak”.  What I endure is a function of Her goodness and intention and not a function of my flawed-ness and failures, and there are many of those by the way…flaws and failures.  But to Her they are akin to the chiseled away wood or stone…they are like the clay She pushes away as She makes me into Her Own.tumblr_mg1b54JLRN1qbwkv3o1_500

I am the daughter of Holy Spirit, Great Lady Grace…my Big Mama…and I am good.  She has said it and my Precious Merciful Jesus has made it true in His own Love dripped completely over me and washing totally thru me cleansing me and making me Their Righteousness.

I will live, and still pine and long…grieve and mourn…but I will also see the Dawn morning by morning and I will keen under Her loving caresses to my hair and cheeks as She wipes away travail and gives…

…gives me Beauty for ashes…and the Oil of Joy for mourning…and She clothes me in Songs of Praise glorious and radiant and She disappears the spirits of heaviness…as She plants me in Her Own Orchards of Righteousness and calls me Her Very Own…and I will indeed day by day glorify Her Name and call Her good and only good as She brings me to the Father of Lights from Whom every good and perfect gift comes.day_50_by_secrets_of_the_pen-d4qb4z8

I am a prophetic declaration to a world that is spiritually cross-borned, just as I am physically thus.  Yes, each and everyone of us is “transgender”…walking around with this knowing inside us that we were not destined for death and dissolution and destruction, knowing that we are victims of time, knowing that who we are in our hearts is somehow choked down and held down and thrown down by something that ought not be…

…and so as I live and love, as I trust and talk, as I weep and write, I am becoming a living word of love to whoever will listen, and let their own hearts awaken the dawn.Image 001

These things I say in faith…believe me, they are not said in boast, or even really anything that I think about myself.  But I do know that I have heard from my Mama…and these sorts of things, the things I have written here?  They aren’t even remotely like anything the voices have ever cursed at me, and like nothing I tell myself…wait, correction:  told myself…so I know that they must be Her.

Mama said She was so thrilled when I picked out the name double-grace…She promises She will make good on it.

I am Charissa Grace, and I am in my Mama’s Hands.  May my song ever be sweet and my tune ever triumphal, even in tears.tumblr_mv2tt5HQEw1rybem6o1_400

 

Charissa Comments On Leelah

So…at last I think I can comment about the tragic death of Leelah Alcorn.  There has been a maelstrom of emotions inside me over this.

I won’t list them here, because some of them may shock, outrage, or worry some of you.  Suffice to say that I absolutely and completely understand in my marrow the very heart-fire of what she wrote in her note.

But what is more interesting to me is this:  her parents had a choice to make…a choice about gender, gender orientation, and even a choice about Who God Is in light of Gender.  They had to either choose to reach out to their child in spite of their own feelings about gender and what it is and how it is derived, or to slap her down in the name of the binary.  They had to either love their child in spite of anything, everything that she had done or failed to do, and love her just because she was here and gifted to them…or to repudiate her in the name of who they conceive God to be in their own small and stony hearts…

Well, actually let’s boil it down further:  they either had to choose to love Leelah, or love themselves.tumblr_nhhqy6QtCa1tuw8wbo1_1280

That is the bottom line.  Let me unpack this a bit for you.

First, let’s start with gender, and the crucial thing here is to really feel the distate and horror they had for a transgender person, the visceral reaction they had to what they felt was wrong wrong WRONG!  Oh Constance, how is it not more clear, the strong and unchangeable thing that gender orientation is!!?  Because their rejection of who Leelah was and the feelings that they had?  They are the same feelings and depth and strength and absolute that transgender people feel inside about who we are gendered as!

They would rather see her die than to see her live as a gender they thought she was not…and I will confess that I would rather die than live any longer as who and what I am not.  That is not a life anyway, and never was, not at its core.

They imagined that it would be torture for them, to see Leelah dressed properly female but to their eyes looking like a clown (one of my former best friends told me that I look like a clown, by the way, thanks for that, former 33 year friend)!  They pictured a life of seeing her over years and that making them uncomfortable.Image 002

Constance…this is how we feel…transgender people…when we live in a world where our very breathing is transgressive!  And to walk around being in such a way to reduce the absolute hatred we face from others when we are ourselves is to choose to be something that is indescribable agony inside ourselves to be!  We get treated “fine” (and that means with indifference and left alone)…but it is an abattoir inside our hearts as our own life blood is spattered on the walls of our souls as we claw at our chests trying to tear the pain out of our hearts!tumblr_nfb8vsABbE1qznvrxo1_r1_400

But wait!!  We can take hormones!  We can dress properly…and even better, we can actually have medical attention that literally transforms that pain into joy, and fills that horrible void with presence!  The statistical evidence is overwhelming on this point, by the way.  But it comes with a price:  we exchange our inner torment for torment and rejection from our social groups and culture.  The torment just changes location…sadly, most people in our society are just like Leelah’s parents and they  begin to exercise the dominance of the binary.  They want to avoid their own discomfort and are willing for us to die, whether it be by our own hand or theirs.

That is the choice we have:  suffer in how we are made…or suffer at our own hand…or suffer from the hands of other people.tumblr_nh62vnYyO81u6arw9o1_500

Because God forbid that my choice of clothing and presentation make anyone uncomfortable or antsy, right?  Better that I just go away, or even better, change back…I am blood guilty, after all, of “wasting a perfectly good man” as another 3 decade long friend said to me in utter seriousness after 3 and a half hours of me trying to explain to him what it is like.

But that brings us to the next point in regards to the Leelah Alcorn tragedy:  Who is this God that Leelah’s parents supposedly worship and live for?  What is this God like?

Well, if we look honestly at this situation, Leelah’s parents believed that they themselves would be guilty of sin if they reached out to Leelah and did whatever it took to be sure she was mentally stable, healthy and able to actually live everyday without being bullied, othered or policed.  They literally believe that God would call them unfaithful sinners and accuse them of enabling their child to be in sin, and then remove all blessing or protection or support from their lives.

They see God being who they themselves are!  To their way of looking at it, Leelah’s suicide was the lesser of two evils, and really they actually are implying that God would say to them “Well Done, Good and Faithful Servants!  You held the line against immorality and sin, even at the cost of your own child!  You sacrificed your own flesh and blood for your own standing as righteous and defending My Honor!”tumblr_necznlA2Ma1r1arpmo1_1280

That’s essentially what happens inside their heart…they were willing to endure the death of their child in a horrific way, and live with that their entire lives, her blood crying out in every sunrise and sunset…because they think that brings God pleasure.

Where did they get this picture of God?  I really want to know this!  Because they certainly did not get this from the Bible, a book that I have read countless times and studied for years at various stages of life and maturity.

Here is who the Bible says God is…the Father who had children who chose selfishness, self-worship, hatred, strife, murder, envy, greed, malice, war, slaughter, wantonness, foolishness and darkness instead of simple fellowship with Him.  So THIS Father did something completely other than what Leelah’s parents did.  This Father instead searched out His children, went where they were, and gave a manifestation of His Heart on their behalf.  He didn’t require them to die for their deeds and lives…instead He had His own Heart die for us instead, as a transaction of love which covers everything.tumblr_ng20au91Nc1s2z59jo1_500

When you love your children regardless of their actions, reactions, deeds, words, silences…well you are imitating God that that finds great favor…when you put your children to death with your own words, deeds, actions and reactions…well flat out you are imitating the devil and worshiping yourself…because the only spiritual beings who take pleasure in evil are satanic and people who put themselves above everything else.

So this post is a very emotional and very crappy piece of writing.  I am too close to it to not be all over the map…but just try to grasp these things:

The horror that cis-gender people feel when they are around us is nothing compared to the primary horror we are inside ourselves waking up and finding our heart/soul/mind/spirit at complete odds with the body we walk around in and are consigned to for everyday of our lives, and the secondary horror we will cause ourselves if we dare to give away who and what we are or even worse if we avail ourselves of the medical miracles there are which will almost entirely cure us.

It is the same absolute for us that we are not congruent inside and outside as it is for cis-gendered people that we are just mentally ill and can be fixed so we are just like them.

These two points illustrate the lie that has so long deceived us all…that gender is derived from plumbing…because if that all it is why do they freak out so bad if they even think about dressing or acting different?  Wouldn’t it be as inconsequential as being in costume for a play?  That it is NOT that inconsequential proves absolutely that gender is something inside and it is what it is!!

I mean, I truly think they would rather us kill ourselves than let us live and move and have our beings just like them!  But if we are too stubborn to kill ourselves, there are plenty of brutes every year who are happy to execute us for the sin of breaking the binary.tumblr_ndrlprYaIl1txj8zfo7_250

It is so strong that they will even remake who God is to justify it…well, sadly, God gets remade all the time to justify the evil that people do.

I hurt and suffer as a human being, in common with everyone else…but I hurt and suffer as a transgender person in addition to that…and I hurt and suffer additional burdens because of what others do and say, fail to do and say…and I hurt and suffer at the lies that people live out as testimony of who they think God is.

Because that is not who They are.tumblr_nc9u51asVe1qa5hedo1_500

Now the confession that I have been avoiding:  in all truth, I am envious of Leelah, because in the midst of all the sorrow and horror and grief, her own torment has ended…and that prospect, of that low grade fever buzz of wrong being gone finally and there being blessed silence, sweetness, and rest…well that is something that I wish I could have.

And I feel a huge amount of guilt over that envy…because it is very clear to me that were I to seek relief it would be at the lifelong expense of many people I am connected to, and I would buy my own release with their pain…and that is unacceptable to me…so I sit…and mourn Leelah even while I am longing for what she now has…and feeling this awful mix of guilt and cowardice and bleakness…and thank God for Them, and They do bring comfort and joy and security even in the midst…no, especially in the midst.

I have many blessings…I have inner peace in terms of the Ultimate End of things…but I struggle, oh I struggle so hard, and I truly fear at times that I am not up to the task of being.  I try to be honest with myself, and that means feelings…but then again I am not like other people and able to just rise above them.  And that adds to the guilt and shame of not being good enough.

I wish I knew if Leelah would want me to live…I think she would, actually, because I think she wanted to live…it just got too hard, too heavy.tumblr_mx5becxnZE1shqs68o1_500

Hey Constance…regardless of your feelings about gender…if you have any feelings what so ever about being a good person?  Try making the burden lighter for people…with compassion, kindness, tender heartedness and smiles, instead of heavier with judgment and rejection.  You would be amazed to know what one kind word can do.

Confused rambly Charissa is now done gushing and vomiting.

Sorry for the succumbing to the passion and letting it produce a big messy dump of a post…I just could not live with all this inside me any longer.

tumblr_m2a0n0HFGX1qj6zmko1_500

 

 

SmartAssJen | listening to the living and the dead: ruminations…

tumblr_n32tdwdZ0i1qzxeqqo3_500SmartAssJen | listening to the living and the dead: ruminations….

Long post…rambles a bit…and scintillating in every single point, as an emotional map tracking the swings and oscillations of my heart and soul.

Trigger warning:  boring for cis-gendered people…and explosive for transgender people.

Charissa

Dread and Presences

Dread.

I feel it still.
Laying

at the base
of my throat
and throbbing dully,
quietly slumbering

with one leering eye
cocked open always
and leaning towards
my heart.

My heart…
chipped and worked,
touched and chilled
by the frozen fingers
of dread and

shards of it lay scattered
at my feet clear,
jagged glimmering
broken.tumblr_nf01s3Hemc1sjr8bdo1_1280

I step to the rail and look back
peering intently into the fog
thick and lingering, but
2014 is shrouded, hidden
and if I hadn’t lived it
I wouldn’t have believed it
was anything more
than a dream.

It was a year that hollowed out
thinned out, emptied out
but never declared its intention.

I don’t think it ever knew
or if it even could.

It was a year
without windows
but many doors
and ladies
and tigers.

There is more to life than meets the eye,
more than can be measured
by the senses or a census
but this morning there is just
the fog behind and the early dark
ahead awaiting dawn.

and Dread

and my heart shaped
in its cold hands
and God’s Warm Heart.

Across the prow of my ship
the rain slants and glints
in the deck lights (dark lights)
like silvery needles
sent to stitch
the past and future
together in this moment.

I think of Presences.

Emptiness…
Nothing…
Silences…
Absences…

Love…
Memories…
Hope…
Them…

there and here with me
in time and triumph,
tears and tragedy
but only One
does my heart
awaken in this dawn
and set afire tears
upon my face

a God of grace,
a God of love,
a God of…justice?

Justice.
I don’t even know where
to start with that!

I face forward
into dawn’s early light

empty,
confused,
seeking,

the way of grace
not effort!

Image 001

God doesn’t make mistakes, people do

Constance, the amazing Lori Duron says it best. Please read her post below. I am still processing this horror, but may have some thoughts in a few days.

Walk Humbly. Just that.

raisingmyrainbow's avatarRaising My Rainbow

Art by Leelah Alcorn Art by Leelah Alcorn

The suicide and suicide letter of Leelah Alcorn haunt me. They have gripped my heart and not let go, squeezing tighter every time I think about them. And, I think about them often.

Leelah’s suicide affects me so deeply because, like her, my child is differently gendered — putting him in the group of children who have the highest rate of suicide attempts in the world.

That could be my child. That could have been my brother.

We grew up in very religious home. We went to youth group on Wednesday nights and church every Sunday. If you didn’t go to church, you didn’t go anywhere else.

Starting in seventh grade, at age 12, I was taught that being gay was one of the worst sins a person could commit and being transgender was unspeakable. When I was in high school and my brother came out…

View original post 400 more words

Suicide Strikes Again

Constance…this appeared on my Facebook feed…I am distraught.

***********************************************************************************

Leelah was a 17yo ‪#‎trans‬ girl who just committed suicide. Rejected by her Christian parents. Put through reparative therapy. Her suicide note is below.

(Yes, it’s a verified real story. This post is from the City Councilman. Leelah is misgendered in news reports and images say “beloved son.” Love your kids, no matter who they are.)

10882203_10152890370433559_4919673113361989723_n

Some very sad news to share.

Yesterday, a 17-year old committed suicide by jumping in front of a semi on I-71 near the South Lebanon exit.

It has come to light that this person likely committed suicide because she was transgender.

While Cincinnati led the country this past year as the first city in the mid-west to include transgender inclusive health benefits and we have included gender identity or expression as a protected class for many years….the truth is….it is still extremely difficult to be a transgender young person in this country.

We have to do better.

By reading her letter, Leelah makes it clear she wants her death to, in some way, help “trans civil rights movements.”

Please join me in making a donation (investment in our trans kids) right now to TransOhio.

Invest by clicking here: http://www.transohio.org

SUICIDE NOTE
If you are reading this, it means that I have committed suicide and obviously failed to delete this post from my queue.

Please don’t be sad, it’s for the better. The life I would’ve lived isn’t worth living in… because I’m transgender. I could go into detail explaining why I feel that way, but this note is probably going to be lengthy enough as it is. To put it simply, I feel like a girl trapped in a boy’s body, and I’ve felt that way ever since I was 4. I never knew there was a word for that feeling, nor was it possible for a boy to become a girl, so I never told anyone and I just continued to do traditionally “boyish” things to try to fit in.

When I was 14, I learned what transgender meant and cried of happiness. After 10 years of confusion I finally understood who I was. I immediately told my mom, and she reacted extremely negatively, telling me that it was a phase, that I would never truly be a girl, that God doesn’t make mistakes, that I am wrong. If you are reading this, parents, please don’t tell this to your kids. Even if you are Christian or are against transgender people don’t ever say that to someone, especially your kid. That won’t do anything but make them hate them self. That’s exactly what it did to me.

My mom started taking me to a therapist, but would only take me to christian therapists, (who were all very biased) so I never actually got the therapy I needed to cure me of my depression. I only got more christians telling me that I was selfish and wrong and that I should look to God for help.

When I was 16 I realized that my parents would never come around, and that I would have to wait until I was 18 to start any sort of transitioning treatment, which absolutely broke my heart. The longer you wait, the harder it is to transition. I felt hopeless, that I was just going to look like a man in drag for the rest of my life. On my 16th birthday, when I didn’t receive consent from my parents to start transitioning, I cried myself to sleep.

I formed a sort of a “fuck you” attitude towards my parents and came out as gay at school, thinking that maybe if I eased into coming out as trans it would be less of a shock. Although the reaction from my friends was positive, my parents were pissed. They felt like I was attacking their image, and that I was an embarrassment to them. They wanted me to be their perfect little straight christian boy, and that’s obviously not what I wanted.

So they took me out of public school, took away my laptop and phone, and forbid me of getting on any sort of social media, completely isolating me from my friends. This was probably the part of my life when I was the most depressed, and I’m surprised I didn’t kill myself. I was completely alone for 5 months. No friends, no support, no love. Just my parent’s disappointment and the cruelty of loneliness.

At the end of the school year, my parents finally came around and gave me my phone and let me back on social media. I was excited, I finally had my friends back. They were extremely excited to see me and talk to me, but only at first. Eventually they realized they didn’t actually give a shit about me, and I felt even lonelier than I did before. The only friends I thought I had only liked me because they saw me five times a week.

After a summer of having almost no friends plus the weight of having to think about college, save money for moving out, keep my grades up, go to church each week and feel like shit because everyone there is against everything I live for, I have decided I’ve had enough. I’m never going to transition successfully, even when I move out. I’m never going to be happy with the way I look or sound. I’m never going to have enough friends to satisfy me. I’m never going to have enough love to satisfy me. I’m never going to find a man who loves me. I’m never going to be happy. Either I live the rest of my life as a lonely man who wishes he were a woman or I live my life as a lonelier woman who hates herself. There’s no winning. There’s no way out. I’m sad enough already, I don’t need my life to get any worse. People say “it gets better” but that isn’t true in my case. It gets worse. Each day I get worse.

That’s the gist of it, that’s why I feel like killing myself. Sorry if that’s not a good enough reason for you, it’s good enough for me. As for my will, I want 100% of the things that I legally own to be sold and the money (plus my money in the bank) to be given to trans civil rights movements and support groups, I don’t give a shit which one. The only way I will rest in peace is if one day transgender people aren’t treated the way I was, they’re treated like humans, with valid feelings and human rights. Gender needs to be taught about in schools, the earlier the better. My death needs to mean something. My death needs to be counted in the number of transgender people who commit suicide this year. I want someone to look at that number and say “that’s fucked up” and fix it. Fix society. Please.

Goodbye,

(Leelah) Josh Alcorn

A 9-year-old girl gave this heartfelt letter to her teacher after he came out as gay · PinkNews

A 9-year-old girl gave this heartfelt letter to her teacher after he came out as gay · PinkNews.

Okay, that was fast, God!!

tumblr_mx4x1r1ySq1srt2ido1_1280

4th Grader Asks Santa For Equality, Writes About Transgender Sister

4th Grader Asks Santa For Equality, Writes About Transgender Sister.

Constance…I am a total wreck right now.

Just tears.

God…please, more people like these?tumblr_naka9qSUsT1thqgeao1_1280

always ever treasured

in the silent moments,
when nothing speaks
(you did know that, didn’t you?
Nothing speaks.
Have you not heard its voice?)

and to stopper its relentless words
my mind goes elsewhere,
and I wander back thru pages of the days
and chapters of the years
and past volumes of the decades
until I stop at last
in children’s books well thumbed
and read nearly to death.

it is there I see you still,
and in your running laughter
released and giggly grasping
our guts in gales of mirth.

i see your eyes unguarded,
your innocence intact,
your trust still whole, unshattered
unsullied by grief’s touch.

I see your wispy curls, I see your toothless grin,
I hear your nonsense singing always
and you there, secrets within and harbored deep and lonely
I see you there within.

you cannot know how I feel, here
now…because the books won’t open
into your life unlived and yet to be discovered.
Well…you could believe and listen
when I reach out wholehearted
and full of love to give
and wanting to redeem all
that depression ruined
and self-loathing polluted.

lovelies I was always there
though trapped so deep inside!
I was shipwrecked just as you
when you felt choked by your hometown
well I was dying in my body
smothered in its horror.

The present yous swim into view
and lay yourselves upon
the little yous there innocent,
those brand new perfect yous
and I see at the same time
the spectrum of your beings
in scintillating sharpness
so smudged by separation
and blurred by longing tears.

I see your cold and austere looks
I hear your voice demanding
your questions stark, commanding

“what does your flaw have to do with me?  What is your point?
So you suffered, big deal! Worse, you broke me mangled, mutilated
folded spindled, permeated all the air I ever breathed
with your dysphoric world!

“I was not given a choice! If I was, it would not be you!
so just step back, just go away and fade into the pages back
before our volume started, we are now ever parted”.

But as I said…they cannot read into their future
those pages remain stuck together, gummy in a messy wad
of yet to be determined, yet to there be written
in the blood of choices made and in the ink of voices raised
to speak of deeper things…or not.

regardless, I can still take out those books
and thumb the well worn pages
and read the much loved stories
of long lost wholesome glories.
and I will always love my babies there so cherished
and kissed and ever treasured, ever, ever treasured
always ever treasured.

Tomb Raider: Definitive Edition

 

Breaking the Gender Covenant | On Being

Breaking the Gender Covenant | On Being.

and

Gender and the Syntax of Being: Identity and Transition (a podcast)

Can I just…say…wow.

Joy Ladin has shared some incredibly important and significant ideas at the link above.  I have read her book

Through the Door of Life: A Jewish Journey between Genders

It is incredibly moving, deafeningly poetic and lyrical, and it captured my life as very few accounts have been able to.

In the article I am linking to, I can assure you that she gets it right, and while I never was forced to break the gender covenant with my wife, it has happened to me in other areas to the extent that I can verify her words as true in my own life too.

So…Constance:  it goes without saying that it is the right thing to be kind to transgender people, to be kind to everyone…but there is a deeper reason that I post this.  Are you able to read this article, synthesize out of it the core issues of becoming, and then find a way to apply them into your own life and experience?

There are ways that you too are “transgender”.  Oh no, I am not talking here about biology and the mind-body dichotomy.  Rather, I am talking about you the spirit inside you the body, and ways that this is often just not a good fit…you yearn for something more, something beyond.

I am talking about you the entity in this world, as if you the entity is your “internal sense of gender” and the world is “your exterior genitalia”…there are times when the fit is so wrong and so alien that you feel as if you would explode.

That is the place that is of greatest interest to me, Constance…because it is in that place that you and me and all of us are on the same sojourn to congruence and wholeness.

Advent Poem: The Season of Emptiness

I remember
last Christmas,
lingering in my mind
midst memory’s fogs
and memories
…just grey mists now,
swirling and coiling
back on themselves,
roiling forward
from the past
and boiling over
into this morning,
this day…

LS_14_020L1

this time sitting
in the midst of ashes
dead and flat remaining
from that cold conflagration
of becoming thru the fires
of that season.

Friends, job,
name, family,
reputation,
all consumed
by fire,
all revealed as
morsels of the moment
(that lasted 55 years and still just a moment)…

last year,
I had it all
at least in the eyes
of those who don’t matter,
I had it all…especially
the awful yawning
void of nothing
gaping inside
me, most real
inside me,Processed with VSCOcam with x1 preset

I remember
the day after Christmas
reduced me to a place
in the hills adjacent
to the place a woman
took her own life
this year,
reduced me
to screaming incoherence
because I had run out
of words to scream and
I had just begun
to scratch the surface
of what there was
to scream about,
that awful
substantial black
nothing.

that day,
it was a close matter
a razor’s edge tumble
into red greedy flames
burning long and low
all year until
they blazed in fury fanned
when smothering shrouds
were snatched away sudden
in torn and tattered strips
to consume the bribes
and chains of nothing
clothed in costumes.

This Christmas,
nothing has been exposed,
revealed as the imposter
it still masquerades as.
I am empty of screams
but full of me and
ready to receive
the Promise of words
to give voice to
what’s unspeakable, unnameable,
to dress that wound
infected with nothing
and salve it with
the scratchy tickle of truth
and set free we
shadowbound to be
our shining selves,
casting shadows
instead of being flat
and cast by them.

It is the season of emptiness, and places
prepared by pain are hungry
for the Presence
and the Promise
that only emptiness contains.

tumblr_ng22q1tCrR1sn5m44o1_1280

 

Myths About Transition Regrets | Brynn Tannehill

Myths About Transition Regrets | Brynn Tannehill.

Constance, I have pressed several articles by Brynn…here is another scintillating one, very informative and helpful in educating those who wish to learn.

As to those who don’t wish to learn, don’t waste your breath there, that is what I am learning!tumblr_nfyhwvKKif1sym2bco1_1280

The main reason that I am pressing this:  it gives me opportunity to talk about regret.

Regrets…oh how they haunt me.tumblr_mumeduCow21qiz3j8o1_500

I regret that some how some way I am distanced from the ones I love most (except for my baby and Them, thank GOD!).
I regret that I have a different understanding and experience of what love and relationship is than they do.
I regret that I then blame myself for this.

I regret that I no longer have any idea what it means to be a friend…the things that I think it means are so vastly different than the things that other people think it means…at least, in the language of deeds…

I regret that there are people who have turned on a dime and cut me out of their lives because they found out I am transgender…and even more who have simply faded away, carrying on as if I have died.

I regret that my pace and that of the rest of the world are so out of sync, so different.  In some ways I wander lands so free and boundless that they seem to never come to an end…and in other ways I am so chained and static and marooned behind prison walls that bar me from my true north place.

tumblr_ngf1naTgzl1sh8g7no1_500
I regret that I feel like anathema to some, and a trophy to others…these two groups are mirror images of each other…neither of them likes me, knows me, but each of them loves to have my pelt mounted to their heart’s wall.

LS_14_030L1

I regret that I am not a better person.

But transition?  Come out?  Be honest with myself and the world?

Well, I will never ever regret that, and only wish I had found my moment sooner.

God knows the timing of that moment, and just as when the Child came to us “when the moment was perfect”, so too did my moment come.

Listen to me Constance:  if you know someone who is transgender, and they have chosen transition, you can either be a cause of gratefulness, or a cause of sorrow…but your reaction and choices either way will not make them “un-transgender”.  So wouldn’t you rather have it on your eternal resume that you brought joy and gladness, kindness and comfort to the lowly and hurting

tumblr_nggsqomXKT1r2zs3eo1_500

…than have it written of you “this person kicked them when they were down, and helped them to kill themself”?

tumblr_lyzkcoRLuB1qc0cxpo1_500

This Advent…be a bearer of tidings…

…comfort and joy, Constance.
Comfort and Joy.

Comfort-And-Joy-2012-Logo

 


California Department of Education Lies, Does Not Investigate LGBTQ Bullying

I cannot even begin to speak of how I feel after reading this. Thank yous to Lori for finding her voice to write about what I felt frozen by.

If you read this, and then go on business as usual, you need to realize: there may be someone in your circle of influence who is either bullying or bullied.

Your involvement could make all the difference.

We feel the tragic nature of these sorts of things because someone unique, utterly precious and beyond priceless has been snuffed out. But the same principle holds the other way: you…you yourself are unique, and have a power and a voice that impacts the universe.

But only if you use it. If you don’t, well we all know the black tide that seeks to erode everything and pull it into itself and its seething mass of hurt and horror.

raisingmyrainbow's avatarRaising My Rainbow

Ronin-cheerleader.jpg.pagespeed.ce.3GDLKTtQ8BRqgOhqwhHY Ronin Shimizu

Like my son, Ronin Shimizu was a young boy living in California. He was a cheerleader, like my son hopes to be one day. Ronin is described as positive and happy, like my son is often described. He endured bullying because he liked something that some people is “only for girls.” Sadly, my son knows exactly how that feels.

Last week, 12-year-old Ronin decided to end the bullying by ending his life.

I worry every day that my son will have this too in common with Ronin. Because the group of kids like Ronin and my son have the highest rate of suicide attempts in the world.

The articles about Ronin’s death report that in the years leading up to his suicide, Ronin’s parents made multiple complaints to his school about the homophobic and gender-based bullying their son was experiencing. The school’s response was inadequate and the bullying…

View original post 637 more words

The Tranny-curse (haiku)

tumblr_nex8dv3atF1s2z59jo1_1280

there, around my neck

choking me in its fat fist

branding me unclean

tumblr_nf77nnsqBH1rns0quo1_500

The curse is in the word, and words like it…not in my being who and what I am.

Just Because He Breathes: Learning to Truly Love Our Gay Son | Linda Robertson

Just Because He Breathes: Learning to Truly Love Our Gay Son | Linda Robertson.

Crying so hard that it took this sacrifice:  this child sacrifice in order for

these pitiable people to realize something about God…

He does not ever require us to sacrifice our children to Him, because He has already given Jesus to us who chose to be our sacrifice of love.

Listen…make it really easy:  you are not God.  Thus, your one and only job here  in the earth is to Love Them, Love your neighbor, and be kind.  Believe it or not, God really can get thru to people…way better than you can.

And pray that it doesn’t take something like this for you to see clearly.

 

Only Winter Really Knows

That last leaf, on that dry branch
scratching at grey skies and digging for rain,
digging in my heart for seeds of grief
buried so deep.

What is it about the last one?
Leaf, apple, pine cone?
Winds rake and tug, greedily scooping prizes
sweet, tart, bristley, floatey…

but there always are those hangers on tenacious,
and never saying die…
or is it that they cannot do it? Say die?
or even “dead”.

Is it that they refuse
to let go? Or is it
that they cannot?
Let go?

And here is the killer:  some people think they are resilient
and full of perseverance and persistence,
and some people think they are noble
and full of loyalty and loose liberty.

But I wonder if they are
just not capable, if they are
just crippled by their
inability to let go and move on?

I know how many days have come,
winds blowing, raking and pawing at me lusty,
unwanted doggy beasts, knocking me loose
and then away and disappearing.

I know how many thrusts, rooting have picked me over
and my secrets tumbling dead and colorful in air
away to dirt but I left lonely, hanging unrequited there
and flapping solitary in the winds of shame.

But there are still some (leaves, secrets, treasures)
still hanging on and unable to let go,
adorned in funeral robes dolorous
and hued in autumn splendor.

Most see them as emblems, medals,
battle spoils dearly won and worn…
but they are just proof
of my weaknesses and loss

and inability to quit,
to let go and enter
into that towering
still White transition called

Winter…

which, disguised as death
to frighten all assailants,
holds my dreams and hopes and losses
all in trust and buried deep in wombs
of merciful becoming masquerading
as cold tombs silent, dark and numbing,

Winter…

who holds my heart gripped
in her frosty kiss desperate,
longing for her last gasp
before presenting me
to the sprites of spring and then
the suns of summer.

The last one…there.
map, marking ways
hidden and secret to find
my deepest treasures,

or medal, memory of moments
living and filthy with love
long ago so bold and given over now
to the grave so lonely and cold.

I guess only Winter
really knows and will proclaim
when She calls roll and
the Final Thaw begins.

tumblr_nemc3xMGGx1s2z59jo1_1280

Going for the Throat of Love

I have always
gone for the throat of love.
Right?  I mean,
what else is there, really?

See, you are wiley…
you have your snares, your wire-traps…
but you know your way
around these woods

you touch those red trunks thick
and feel the moss and know
when that woody heart is open
and thirsty and available

you sense the wondering wildlife
hid nearby and hushed,
and know just how to move thus
and not startle the deer

and how to whistle for the birds,
you trill in practiced ease, that’s you…
touching terrain, scheduling territories,
reading maps and visiting…

spreading out your hunter’s eye
in webs and nets
and next thing you know, why
love is there and snapped

neatly on your leash and sat,
ears cocked, so it knows to roll over,
and speak, and play dead
(with a smile).

But me?  I have eyes that see, inside
those scented trunks concealed with fringey moss,
and ears that hear inside the hearts of harts that crouch so still
and hidden there so neat and underneath the wings of birds.

But I don’t have body, right?
When I move, I snap twigs and crash,
noise and blunder, all bleeding desire
and wet contagious bonding sticky heart

that catches on the thorns you deftly step around
and tears on twigs and snags on gnarly cedar fingers
and then clutches at the brush to cover
my embarrassing naked need of something other

my need of what I was not even given
the dignity of denial,
denial of my heart-felt soft request…
like a tree not granted the dignity of a forest.

So I just jump que sera sera, aiming for
the things I see inside the hearts of trees and
the things I hear singing inside the flight of blackbirds in the night…
and the humming of the bees

…and find myself missing…
…over and over and over…
and thumping hard on stones and tumbled
scratched and hotly embarrassed

by yet another fruitless
leap of faith while moments
walks right past me,
walk right thru me!

I imagine you, your skillful
deft dread lilting steps
and secret smile of success,
you equipped and given grace that matches…

and moving
in the forest ways
and easy and always
so at home.

Finally I pick myself up,
and listen, look, and get a bead
on that pulsing place so secret there,
the tender hollow of its neck,

love,
and I get myself ready to go
for the throat of love once more,
and missing take my deep compelled encore

in hope that I will
catch my quarry, or am still
and never need to long
or ever jump again.

Image 001

 

Under the Surface

I never scuba dive.
I’m afraid of those sharks,
great white sharks
(I could never figure out what was so great about them).

I think what they mean
is big white sharks.
and they aren’t even really white!
(why do we call things white that aren’t even?).

Their teeth are white though,
white razors running
from snout to throat and down
(I think they chew their way thru the water).

Besides, I am in enough danger (on land)
from things called great (that aren’t)
from things called white (that are just pale fish belly dead)
from things with teeth (that are hungry for blood).

515df046c201e

Transgender woman dies suddenly, presented at funeral in open casket as a man | The Miami Herald

Transgender woman dies suddenly, presented at funeral in open casket as a man | The Miami Herald.

I am at a loss for words to describe how evil this is…this is the sin of necrophilia, in that it rapes someone after they are dead.

I want to fill this post with iterations of the F word, but will just say how F ing petty…

…how effing pathetic.

Jennifer, I promise to you.  I VOW to you…I will never forget you

Worthless…on Transgender Remembrance Day

Constance, here is the sad truth:  if I was murdered for being trans, I would be blamed, othered, misgendered in my death, and then forgotten as a sad cautionary tale of someone who went cray-cray…and once again the epidemic of hateful absolutely vile demonic murder would continue unchecked by my death any more than the tsunamis are checked by lil old seawalls along the oceanfront.

It is not a joke.  It is not just me being shrill.

It is pure unadulterated evil.  Killing someone because they do not conform to societal norms.

The post below is my contribution to Transgender Remembrance Day…the blunt and brutal fact that I am worth about as much to towns, communities and society as the dog crap in the street that needs to be cleaned up and disposed of with laws discussed to control the dogs.

Keep on fiddling, Nero…keep on fiddling.  You are sawing your own neck in two.

tumblr_mlcx2vXeF61qdachco1_1280

Excerpted from a larger article:

Remembering Us When We’re Gone, Ignoring Us While We’re Here: Trans Women Deserve More


There’s an interesting phenomenon that I’ve witnessed over the past few years. The names of trans women of color will be in the mouths of the queer community after they’ve been murdered, but support for us while we are still alive is sporadic at best. Trans women are pushed out of queer spaces by cis people, dfab genderqueers, and trans men, just to name a few. Women’s spaces are frequently hostile to us because we aren’t “real women” but trans men almost always get a free pass. And I’ve seen more than one cis queer say that trans women are “appropriating” the gay rights movement, totally ignorant of the fact that we started the damn thing. I have seen more than one cis queer say that we have nothing in common with them, that our issues are completely unrelated. We have a hard time finding dates, finding support, finding community. And when we dare to call people out for their transmisogyny, we are labeled crazy, hysterical, divisive. I have been called Austin “queer scene’s” number one enemy. All for daring to share my thoughts on the world around me.

image via http://www.gazettenet.com

Trans Day of Remembrance is filled to the brim with the names of murdered Black and brown trans women, but is a single evening of remembering enough? And what does it mean that TDoR doesn’t explicitly talk about race and is often dominated by white people? Here in Austin there’s this tradition of calling the names of the dead and then having an audience member sit in a chair that represents where the dead trans woman would sit. The seats are always filled with white people and non-trans women. What do our deaths mean when our bodies, our lives, the physical space we take up, is appropriated by white folks? How can I mourn for my sisters when the space set up for that mourning is so thoroughly colonized? And how can I even see hope of living a full life when I don’t see myself reflected in what is supposed to be my community?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to honor those women who came before us, those women murdered by colonial patriarchy. But it seems like more often than not, the queer community at large is content with just remembering. We only hear about trans women after their deaths. And even our deaths are not our own. A week doesn’t go by without a white queer citing the deaths of trans women of color as the evidence of how oppressed they are. These stats are often used in service of their own assimilation; meanwhile, they’re happy to leave us out in the cold. We don’t even have dignity in death, nor the ability to decide what it will mean for us.

 via http://giveout.razoo.com

Support for trans women dwindles when we are still alive. Nowhere is this clearer than in fundraisers run by and for trans women. There have been some success stories, but they always seem to be few and far between. More often than not, a trans woman’s fundraiser will get a few signal boosts, maybe a couple of dollars and then languish. Meanwhile, trans men’s fundraisers for transition related care often get fully funded. This funding disparity is also clear institutionally, where organizations that focus on the concerns and issues of trans women of color get a miniscule amount of all the money from LGBTQ foundations. This is especially true in the South, where LGBT organizations only get 3-4% of domestic LGBT funding. Again, cis, white, rich institutions are quick to use our murders in their statistics then turn around and spend their money on organizations that look like them: cis, white, and rich. Organizations that push for assimilation.

Via americanprogress.org

Obviously financial support isn’t the be all end all action to support trans women of color, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. And the fact that it’s a struggle for trans women to acquire financial assistance is symptomatic of our society’s priorities. It points to who is valuable and who is disposable. At the bottom of this article is a list of fundraisers and organizations for trans women that I would strongly encourage you to support. If you’re not a trans woman and you’re reading this, think long and hard about the ways that you’re supporting trans women in your community. Do you see trans women in public community spaces? How are your actions pushing them out? Don’t think that just giving money nullifies your collusion in transmisogyny. Financial support is important but it is not the only step. As we honor the memory of those girls who have been murdered, ask how you’re helping the living.

Bleeding Light and Memory: On Transgender Remembrance Day

Here is my first poem written regarding this thing called Transgender Remembrance Day.  I wrote it last year on this day.  It is located here:

Bleeding Light and Memory (Without Images for Structure)

I present it to you again today…and it has grown, shrunk, matured and gained its presence a bit.

In other words I edited it.
Please…read it and let the reality of it hit your heart with the tattoo needle and not the jester’s feather.  Please be changed…how can we  live if you won’t unbend, unfold and become?  I am right there with you Constance, wings straining for every weft of breeze, sails hoisted and praying for that puff divine and transformative…

Love, Charissa

*****     *****     *****     *****     *****

Bleeding Light and Memory (2014 version)

When light struck my soul I blazed fierce and exultant!
Into awareness, I bled joy so radiant just like the horizon
bleeds sunlight at dawn.  I gazed in the gawky glass of exultation
(and I in my youth seeing darkly thru that glass)
I knew myself and was gaudiloquent and I was so glad and full,
I was so wonder-full.tumblr_musnzoGltW1ss5om1o1_500Til it rained, titters fell tinkling down on heart-tin, then rebukes raging,
lashing at my roof and thrumming and drumming til I saw no more thru that
bright young glass darkly, but dull thru a lonely storm dimly and starkly
and everything eerie and glowing in green, and radioactive remarks so redactive
and careless cerulean comment, alas! I came to know what I was
and was not and I melted misshapen and crippled.

Then came the days long and same and repetitive,
passing by people of 2 kinds that easily pass, they belong
but they never see beyond, they never see inside the rose.
So I plucked throbbing buds, thorn blood price cheap and held them out
from my side of that dark glass wet with stormy tears, washy with rivers
of arrogant vain assumed presence attributing value and worth.
Life ground me down as it moved without mercy, a glacier inexorable
grinding in glances so cold and so frozen, that flow moving over
the dark silent boulders of being…I saw bones strewn round me
like gruesome pick-up sticks, cast-offs from careless hands,
players who tired of children’s games, children’s cruel nicknames,
grown weary they tore out their hearts with bare hands mad with grief
but the world grinding by didn’t care.tumblr_mv21x4W9Lk1rk1cbbo1_1280Until at last long from those dizzy heights brilliant awareness burst over me,
bleeding in fullness and in terror tinklings, thrumming and cold and that
startling certain blue clarity…I finally remembered who I am, and know
finally what I am, that I am, and my long lament “alas” nevermore uttered!
For I am become me…at last, me…a lass.

That’s me in a nutshell, my story and journey transgender…but what about you?
Will you take time to think and remember? Will you find mercy today?
Will you find the care? Will you go gently with us into our long night,
will you rage, rage with us gentle and bless now the living of the light
that’s straining to dawn bright and final in blazing clear beauty?
You too are dual natured, corrupt and dying and incorrupt rising!
We share one grim struggle, together the dead and together alive
in one deadly bold dual to live.  You….are US. and we are you…
but you without arms, without eyes, without mouths
we scream loud and cry for release!  We cry out
for the midwives of mercy to meet us and make us
so beautiful for situation at last and delivered of our awful charge.

OPEN YOUR EYES AND EARS FOR US.tumblr_mv2wk5jIW71spa6l5o1_500See us…and hear us…don’t fear us, don’t fear to see yourself,
come stare down your own stormy floods, sit and listen!
Don’t be afraid to hear us, we’re the voice of the echoes you hear
in your own fearful nightmares of being, oh Daughters of Pharaoh!
Reach down and lift us up out of the reeds and mud! Because of you
a whole nation was freed, and we too are Eve’s sons and the daughters of Adam,
but trapped and acutely aware we are helpless!  Too often we’ve fallen
to dread hands and dead eyes of no grace and no mercy
and no compassionate symmetry!

Today…here…
Light strikes in blacksmith blows,
soul sparks chip off and away on this day…
I intention…remember
my own radiant flood
bleeding light and day’s promise,
remember the resonant thunder,
remember the frowning floods
the gushing gouts
and the othering stares
and the brutal don’t cares
of long years I walked
in the country of lost men
and longing despair…

I remember the pangs and the waves and the lurching
of labor as I, pregnant with my own measureless mystery
and full of such knowing began to emerge and break forth
deep-touched forever warded by Grace, and kept safe
from that pit which has tripped far too many and eaten them,
chewed them like Goya’s devourer,
Zeus eating every last child in his madness and horror…
incarnate in this patriarchy that rounds us up
into its abattoir death camps like cattle
and herds us into chutes and charnal house horrors
of slaughter and blood-spattered baptism.Francisco_de_Goya,_Saturno_devorando_a_su_hijo_(1819-1823)(let their fate haunt you
and give you holy hush
and give you sacred silence).

Dare. Look. Feel.
I will too, and somewhere
we will fight off those demons
compelling and fell
that haunt us and cause us
to rave and destroy…
Then we shall be set free to fly again
all together in one flock of birds
of all feathers and all calls
become One Glad Song!
We will dare to fly off
to the sun and beyond
where our song will bleed joy
and rain down on the earth
to bring healing and hope
home in Love…

forever…
together…
we’ll
Bleed
Radiant
Light.tumblr_ndi8fmiols1tfagvko1_1280

 

Remembering What Never Was (Transgender Remembrance Day 2014)

Constance…I got fed up this year…well meaning cis-gendered people who yesterday and today started talking about remembering “all the poor dead transgendered people”…not because I do not think we should!  God no!  But I got fed up, because since my first one, last year, it seems to me that things have gotten worse and not better in terms of violent assaults, rapes and murders of transgender people.

This poem is my blunt confrontation of that fact, attitude, bent of being.  It is me speaking in the voice of the dead.

 

*** *** *** *** ***

my face was bashed in,
smooth creamy skin
(lasered free of wiry black blunt hair)
only to be turned
purple ugly and pug,
battered blue
and then torn,
just a rug
yanked out from
under my life
and I
falling
desperately
flailing, then
dying there
on the dark brown
hardwood oak floor.

But that’s not good enough
(actually, not bad enough),
right?

There are penalties
for assuming the right to be,
for breathing while transgender…
so you grabbed that
red rusty fire extinguisher
from the dull chrome bracket
over my old pale green and white
deluxe Glenwood gas stove

(the one I used when
I made your favorite
red gravy and mushrooms
over pasta with cheese
and you smiled and said
I was a good woman,
but that was before
you ate your fill
and got bored).

and then you broke
my face against it,
pulped my nose and
broke my dead jaws
as you jammed the blunt end
down my slack throat
and I already
dead and already
flown away

but that’s not good enough
(actually, not bad enough),
right?

To let a transgirl
have a face
in her transgressive act
of saying I Am, well,
as the Dude says
(regal in all his privileged glory)
This aggression will not stand, man!”

cus me, well
I am aggressive,
I am transgressive,
I dared to live,
I dared to cry
I dared to feel and
I dared to fly
I dared…

and died.

my face…bashed
my body…slashed
torn, stabbed and then
raped to make sure
I never rise from the grave,
my flesh thrown in the dumpster
with the rest of the trash
dead or alive,

and then set on fire.

Hey,
I don’t want you to worry though!
Because everything is AOK,
because Remembrance Day…
because remembrance day,
but how do you re-member me
after I am chopped to pieces
for the heresy of seeking
integration?

My name,
recited solemnly,
a legerdemain of modern time and place
masquerading as elegy and tribute to
trans-trouble, torches smoking,
choking and dead.
This mummery murmers
name by name
to appease the lurking beast inside
(such civilized animals)
and I see sage cis-heads
nod slow and I think
of bobble-heads bought
with gender currency and guilt,
bought with blood money
from gory grisly gruesome chests
passed down father to son
since Cain.

Tomorrow,
you’ll breathe deep,
sigh and toss salt
over your left shoulder
while forking off the evil eye
with your left hand
stabbing like a striking snake
against trans-mystery and tragedy.
And then you will fix your gaze
high on horizons, not even
glancing in gutters where we lay,
still and bleeding in our becoming
and desperate to re-member,
every day, especially those
days where you just
want to forget.

tumblr_n6tvodXa4h1scvowlo1_1280

A Note To My Kid: Do Unto Others: An Open Letter from Violet About Her Gender Nonconforming Child

A Note To My Kid: Do Unto Others: An Open Letter from Violet About Her Gender Nonconforming Child.

Best Quote Ever:  “My love is stronger than your hate.”

Corollary:  Mama’s Love is stronger than death.

Men really need to stop calling women crazy – The Washington Post

Men really need to stop calling women crazy – The Washington Post.

Hi Constance…this is such a great article, for reasons you would expect…and wow did it hit me hard!  See, back in the old days when I was still diligently trying to adhere to the societal role my body’s biology sentenced me to, I would continually get called over-sensitive, over-emotional, crazy, clingy, etc. etc.

This would be anytime that I would express myself about something that I cared deeply about, and especially anytime that I was talking about something I didn’t like.  You have no idea the pretzel state I would get myself into before hand, seeking for some way some how to say what I thought like other “men” and somehow get the same reaction they got:  respect.

And then, any protest I made to defend myself was proof that I was guilty as charged!  Any holding back and not comment was me getting silenced and policed, and put in my place…gosh, even back then I was getting treated according to who I really am and not the role I was forced into.

Constance, I suffered under the worst of both roles, and was denied the best.

I think this article is worthy of reblogging, because the assumption is so deep!  We women even do it to one another all the time, and we need to assert that we can indeed be rational and emotional at the same time!  It is not like God making a rock so big They cannot lift it!

Key quote:

“Crazy” is such a convenient word for men, perpetuating our sense of superiority. Men are logical; women are emotional. Emotion is the antithesis of logic. When women are too emotional, we say they are being irrational. Crazy. Wrong.

 

Women hear it all the time from men. “You’re overreacting,” we tell them. “Don’t worry about it so much, you’re over-thinking it.” “Don’t be so sensitive.” “Don’t be crazy.” It’s a form of gaslighting — telling women that their feelings are just wrong, that they don’t have the right to feel the way that they do. Minimizing somebody else’s feelings is a way of controlling them. If they no longer trust their own feelings and instincts, they come to rely on someone else to tell them how they’re supposed to feel.

Small wonder that abusers love to use this c-word. It’s a way of delegitimizing a woman’s authority over her own life.

tumblr_nf93r966Lo1qft4nwo8_1280

To The PTA Moms at My Son’s School

Constance, you have heard me speak of Lori Duron before, seen my reblogs of a few of her posts…well, I am back reblogging (again)! I just had to!

Why? Because she basically wrote the model post for how to refute your haters/detractors/opponents/ignorant people very free with feedback/etc. Written with intensity and self control, scintillating and uncompromising without resulting to the tactics of fear or manipulation or ad hominem attack, she shows us all how to defend without defaming. I was honored as I read it.

Let’s all learn from Lori, and then take our courage in hand and refuse to let haters and ignorance-imbibers rule the day.

Charissa

tumblr_new3e2mqmj1soaqh2o1_500

raisingmyrainbow's avatarRaising My Rainbow

Last week I published a blog post about things said during a PTA meeting I attended at my youngest son’s school. I wanted to shine a light on the homophobic, transphobic, insensitive, hateful and hurtful things that some moms said during the meeting and show that as far as we have come in LGBTQ acceptance and equality, there is still much work to be done. And sometimes that work needs to be done in heavy doses at places much closer to home than we’d like.

Almost immediately, PTA moms from our school started commenting, messaging and reacting viscerally on social media.

As they did, I stared at the PTA tagline: Every child, One voice. I’m not convinced that our PTA as a whole cares about every child and some of the voices I heard that night are not voices I want speaking on behalf of my child. That being said…

View original post 1,491 more words

Speaking up for Gender Equality: “If not me, who? If not now, when?”

I don’t know why I didn’t think of reblogging this immediately!! But I dreamed about it last night, so here it is Constance.

Here is the deal with Dani…writing technique is precise and on point, intelligence and awareness informs that technique and keeps it quickened and living, topical selection is relevant and current, but more than anything else is that living throbbing sticky HEART that keeps every single one of us coming back for more.

I have been accused of being a fawning sycophant for Dani (giggle…first time in my life for that one!!)…but that is not true.  The fact is she is a writer of true talent and dedicated application of that talent.  Don’t believe me?  Just browse back thru her posts…you’ll see.  She will get you with one of her arrows, for sure.

🙂

You go, Girl, you go…and Constance, you go too over the BloomingSpiders and push “Follow”.

Love to my Sis…Charissa

Image 001

Dani's avatarDani De Luca

All that is needed for the forces of evil to triumph is for good men and women to do nothing. –Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

Image courtesy of www.imaginepeace.com Image courtesy of http://www.imaginepeace.com

I turn 35 in nine days and, as is customary for this time of year, I take some heart notes on where I am and, more importantly, who I am.  I’d like to say that I have it together.  That I know every scar and tear in my soul’s heart, but that would be a lie.  And I don’t lie.  Not anymore.

This past year my thoughts have drifted over the length of who I am.  I have chosen my emotional metric to be strides taken, words spoken and moments of self shared.  I have looked beyond my shell to the soft center of my personhood.  And there…I have found pearls.  Among them sits this:

I am a woman.

And blessed to…

View original post 738 more words

ASSUMPTIONS

Constance, I simply have to comment on a photo I saw, one intended to give freedom and respect to women, by the way.  I really do believe that.

But here is what is soo disheartening to me, so discouraging to me:  the white board in the photo says “No Rush…whenever you are ready”.  It is in reference to whenever a woman wants to have sex with any of these guys (or any guy, I guess).

Good for the realization that women are subjects with free will and intelligence and inherent worth and supreme value…but ohhhh, it broke my heart in its assumption.  When a woman was going to have sex was oh so graciously ceded as her choice to make, supposedly without pressure…THAT there would be sex however, that seems to me to be just assumed as a fait accompli!

The implication to me was that a woman was still viewed as an object for sexual pleasure, just one a bit more complicated and finicky and in need of careful managing in order to pull off a successful congress.

Until such a sign is not really even thought of, there will always be the presupposition that a woman must eventually enter into sexual contact to experience validity.

I have strong feelings about sexuality which are by far in the minority these days, and I am sure that colors my reaction to the picture.  But maybe it lends my point of view some credence if you imagine pics that are in reference to say going for a walk and talking about ideas and the pic says “No rush…we can walk and talk and think if you would like to do that”…

…or walking the dog:  “Would you like to walk my dog with me?”

…or going to the symphony, or going to a decorative garden, or a lecture, or a movie just for, not as a prelude to anything.

I absolutely believe that a woman is in charge of her life, her destiny and who she decides to do what with and when.  Nothing to dispute there…I am just lamenting assumption, and its limiting, shrinking effect on who we are.

Charissa Grace

tumblr_mlha39ZAzo1r27ndso9_r1_1280

When Did Girls Start Wearing Pink? | Arts & Culture | Smithsonian

When Did Girls Start Wearing Pink? | Arts & Culture | Smithsonian.

Constance, I just had to press this for you…a smart and informative article on the “genderfication” of the clothes.  Do yourself a favor and read this…and then make the obvious leap of insight…realizing “hey…so if clothes color has been dictated by fashion, tradition, and social norm, what other aspects of gender have been dictated as well?”

Here is my current conclusion:

The awareness of gender, and who someone is  seems to me to be inherent with how someone is formed in utero.  Everyone has a gender awareness and identity, even if it is uncertainty.  That much is there pretty much from the start.

But the expression of gender…now that is almost purely a function of societal and cultural dictates and is not at all inherent or written in stone.

Wow, that really helps us…I mean, think about how much energy it takes to be all up in everyone’s business all the time, policing them and making sure that they are conforming to your interpretation of things.  If it is all just a function of your epoc, why then there is no ultimate defense you need to make to fend of the certain doom of Ragnarok the instant that you choose to simply take logs out of your own eye and leave the sawdust in other people’s eyes alone.

tumblr_mmuv5cjzV31qdh7g0o2_1280

The Courageous Debi Jackson

Constance, I am posting here a speech given by Debi Jackson…it speaks for itself very well.  Debi is a woman who loves God, loves people, and has a transgender daughter whom she is championing in a way that I am totally certain makes Mama proud.

Please check it out and let your heart be encouraged that hate can never ever conquer.

Debi…from me my deepest thank you’s and admirations for making a way for your child.

If only…if only…

Love, Charissa

Debi Jackson PFLAG Speech

Twins