Transgender Violence Is a #YesAllWomen Issue | The Nation

Transgender Violence Is a #YesAllWomen Issue | The Nation.

Constance.

Please.

Read this. Sorrowfully, sadly, I confess…before I came home to myself as who I am…a transwoman redeemed, I blindly and unconsciously participated as an oppressor in this issue.  <sob>

I am sooo sorry, Sisters…never again.  Ever.

And now, to find myself near the bottom of the power pyramid, by choice and never happier…the irony is rich, and radicalizing.

Teaser quote:

“All women are subject to the threat of violence when they exert agency over their own bodies, defying the expectations of men. For trans women, this agency also takes the form of choosing to express their true gender in public. They act against society’s expectations, especially those of men who feel they are entitled to define trans women’s gender. When trans women attract men, they anger those same men who cannot accept their attraction to a woman who was assigned male identity at birth. Because of this, trans women become the targets of violence…

“Like women who are held responsible for being raped because of their dress or demeanor, trans women are also blamed for presenting themselves according to their true gender. Like other women, trans women are accused of deceiving men, and their histories are used to justify violence against them…

Understanding trans violence as a women’s issue benefits both the trans and women’s movements. It allows trans women to connect their struggles with a broader and more extensive history. But more important, it also deepens our understanding of the struggles of all women, highlighting the lengths men are willing to go to in order to preserve their control over our bodies. It is only when women achieve equality, successfully battling against male entitlement, that trans women will no longer pose a threat to this social system. Trans women’s rights therefore serve as an ideal barometer for women’s rights in general.”

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Re-Post: Why it’s so hard for men to recognize misogyny.

#YesAllWomen in the wake of Elliot Rodger: Why it’s so hard for men to recognize misogyny..

Constance…this is a must read to understand the current climate of spiritual being inhabited by the human race.

Each of us is living in this prison!

Women, who suffer as inmates…

…and men, who are born little boys, and socialized into jailers, and thus inmates as well…

…and the rest of us, on that continuum and without territory, the cleaner of latrines and the off-scourings of both or either.

If you read here for the poetry, consider this post to be talking of that entity that strikes at Poetry’s Heart, that malice, spite, hatred, rage, “anti-life black hole” gawping hungry and ravening, raving in rage against the light.  You need to find your way to your compass, and follow it to that way of being that is in the land Beyond and whole…

If you read here for the spiritual orientation, consider this post in light of Paul’s great rejection of privilege and station in Galatians: “For in Christ, there is neither slave nor free, greek nor jew, male nor female…”  Paul was not teaching that there is no gender or nationality or station in life, but rather, he was pointing out that Jesus has united us all in a land of freedom where there are no more jails, no more jailers, no more inmates.  All have equal worth, value, and significance, whose limit is defined by the price paid to purchase all things…and you simply have no other option than to find the courage of your convictions, leave the safety of the “bus-stop of evangelism and the 4 spiritual laws”, and strike out boldly into the territories waiting for your courage, your faith and resolve, and most of all, your love oozing and dripping from your heart instead of the very blood of the monster that enslaves this world and us by proxy to the degree that we do not speak out, live out our words and embody in our beings the very law of liberty!

If you read here for the perspective of a transgender person in a binary world view, for my own outrage and bucking against an entire construct of ancient evil birthed in rebellion and ego, then take stock of your own station and participation in this concentration camp culture and way of being…

…start bucking.  Kicking.  In that way which is right for you to do, for some have hooves, some wings, some words and some deeds…

Above all, find that radical action which transcends revolutionary overthrow and effects true change of being, essence and substance, and does not simply burn out in tiredness and cynicism or become co-opted in its strength and potency by consumerism which simply re-packages genuine action into the latest consumer product and trend.

Blessings of uneasiness and no peace until you confront yourself in this gaol…

Charissa Grace, circumspect and sober of spirit.

(small quote from the entire article to whet your appetite:

These are forms of male aggression that only women see. But even when men are afforded a front seat to harassment, they don’t always have the correct vantage point for recognizing the subtlety of its operation. Four years before the murders, I was sitting in a bar in Washington, D.C. with a male friend. Another young woman was alone at the bar when an older man scooted next to her. He was aggressive, wasted, and sitting too close, but she smiled curtly at his ramblings and laughed softly at his jokes as she patiently downed her drink. “Why is she humoring him?” my friend asked me. “You would never do that.” I was too embarrassed to say: “Because he looks scary” and ‘I do it all the time.’ “)

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Very Informative article regarding Sexual/Gender Orientation and rude questions

Hi Constance…I am still on slow burn from this morning’s disheartening news…but this article covers several good points regarding what not to do or say when you encounter a person who is different than you.  She writes of the LGTBQ community…but I find these ideas extremely applicable under any circumstance with anyone.

Blessings to you, and grace to have courage!!

Charissa

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Why Your Disbelief in My Queer Identity Doesn’t Negate Its Existence

July 14, 2014 by Erin Tatum

LGBTQ folks have to put up with a lot of ignorance.

One of the most obnoxious forms of said ignorance comes in the form of identity policing, which often manifests as other people providing “theories” to explain your sexuality.

These microaggressions can ruin your day and even erode your confidence about your identity. A microaggression is a small, intentional or unintentional statement or action that is often repeated, to the point where the person experiencing them feels worn down or attacked.

Microaggressions occur in everyday environments, and as their name implies, they often go unnoticed and easily accumulate.

Identity policing certainly falls under the umbrella of microaggressions. When someone makes an assumption about an identity that isn’t theirs, particularly in regard to sexuality, it comes off as interrogating the other person’s self-perception, with the implication that their understanding is somehow flawed or inferior.

Being queer means that people who aren’t in your community always feel entitled to an explanation or worse – they think they know better.

Let’s explore how ridiculous this notion is by going through the various incarnations of queer identity police.

1. The Judge

I always cringe internally whenever anyone outside of my queer bubble brings up anything that would give away my sexuality. Not because I have any problem with my orientation or because I fear rejection, but because I’m never in the mood to go through the inevitable point-by-point analysis to justify how I identify.

Whether you’re coming out for the first time or simply mentioned your sexuality offhand, the obligation to explain your queerness to someone outside your community is cumbersome and irritating.

This is doubly true with cis and/or straight people, who always play the role of heteronormative defense lawyer, no matter how genuinely curious or non-queerphobic they claim to be.

They expect you to lug around your mental briefcase of citations, detailing when you first felt the way you did and when your first experience was and all the times you felt “not normal” since you were a fetus–bonus points for self-loathing or anything that sounds like they may have heard it in a Macklemore song!

Apparently, you can’t be queer without having enough history and credentials to fill an encyclopedia. After all, you’re clearly just craving their approval and validation, right?

As a woman who has considered herself bi/pansexual with leanings towards ladies for several years, I’ve frequently tried to convince myself that I’m actually a lesbian because people understand that so much better than “I realized I don’t really consider gender as a defining factor in who I’m attracted to.”

That’s right, I was allowing any skeptical rando to gerrymander my orientation into something that it wasn’t. I paradoxically used everyone else’s reactions as a barometer for how I ought to define myself.

No one owes you an explanation of their gender or orientation.

Conversely, if you don’t understand someone’s gender or sexuality and you don’t recognize it as legitimate, that doesn’t mean you can pretend it doesn’t exist.

2. The Detective

Then there’s the next level of intrusive – people who think that they have all the answers to your identity. You can say almost anything about your gender or orientation and they’ll always have an objection or a suggestion.

Sometimes these comments are benevolent; sometimes they’re offensive. They range from stereotypical (“you’re bisexual so you must be obsessed with sex”) to just flat out rude (“you’re asexual so you must’ve been though trauma”).

People also have an impulse to conflate gender or gender presentation with sexuality, when in reality there may not be any correlation. For example, straight trans* individuals are frequently accused of pretending to identify as a different gender to avoid the pressure of being gay.

Newsflash: Although it may be tempting, it’s time to take off the Sherlock Holmes hat. If someone you know identifies as queer, it’s not a gateway to interrogate them.

People who are in the majority can go through life with their identities unquestioned. Even if the majority person is well intentioned, the marginalized person should not be forced to jump through hoops to educate or cater to the status quo.

Beyond that, it’s incredibly insensitive to steamroll someone else’s already hard-won identity with your own opinion just because you think your perspective is superior to or more sophisticated than theirs.

Gender and sexuality is not a fun whodunnit mystery or an opportunity to show off your liberalism or level of education. You don’t have to insist on creating a rationale for every piece of the puzzle.

Frankly, queer people couldn’t care less about your analysis.

3. The Authenticity Jockey

Perhaps the most galling is queer people who have the audacity to question or put down the identities of other queer people. Really? Just… really?

We face so much prejudice already, you’d think more of us would have the good sense to respect everyone’s autonomy to define their own identities.

Given that so many outside of our community preach to us about how we are or how we should be, it’s unfortunate that we sometimes treat others with the same scrutiny and skepticism.

The LGBTQ community has been derided as all about the LG with only a reluctant willingness to acknowledge the BTQ, which regrettably holds true too often.

Bisexual and trans* individuals are thus more inclined to be subjected to a volley of “interpretations” – often thinly veiled insults or discrimination – from fellow queer people.

Unfortunate confirmations of this include the alarming consensus that bisexuals are promiscuous or untrustworthy, or that being trans* is a trend that’s now perceived as merely an evolution from being gay.

There seems to be a bias in every subset queer community against just about everyone. Drawing briefly from my own experiences with queer women, feminine women routinely face objectification and misogyny, while others scoff that masculine-identified women “aren’t real women.” You just can’t win.

So, why do we feel the need to cut each other down? By questioning the legitimacy of someone else’s queer identity, Group X asserts that their identity is superior to Group Y, therefore implying that their identity is more respectable.

A hierarchy of authenticity soon forms as everyone works to reaffirm their superiority in the imaginary battle to determine what the best type of queer is.

Here’s a secret: there isn’t one! There’s no manual or checklist on how to get the most queer brownie points.

Queerness is yours to explore however you want and we should all embrace that rather than inexplicably recycle asinine heteronormative policing.

If you’re queer and you feel the need to inform another queer person of how you think their identity works, think about how irritating you would find the same behavior if it came from a straight/cis person. You wouldn’t like it, so don’t inflict it on someone else.

Everyone’s Experiences Are Valid

It may sound like a kindergarten lesson, but it bears repeating: treat everyone with respect. If what they’re doing isn’t hurting you, leave them alone and let them do their thing.

It takes a lot of determination and passion and confidence for many people to be queer. Queerness obviously has a complex and often tumultuous history. Turning it into a platform for your own monologue or a silly game of 20 Questions for the sake of giggling at your own knowledge demonstrates an unbelievable disregard for the person’s journey.

Queer experiences are crucial. They constitute the cornerstone of our understanding of ourselves as individuals and our community in a broader sense.

Queerness usually involves a great deal of reflection and introspection, so don’t pretend you know our sexuality better than we do because you took one gender studies course or watched a documentary.

At the end of the day, your theory amounts to little more than white noise.

The integrity of our experiences and identities will never fail to transcend your “theories.”

My Lil Hamster mind is churning…

So, Constance, I have been thinking about Trans-girl at the Cross’ post which I re-posted…I decided to do some study on some of the words she referred to but chose not to expound on right then, as the analytical linguistic study of greek words and modern meanings can get pretty stodgy!

BUT:  in the process of studying, I found a resource which I found very helpful:

http://www.stjohnsmcc.org/new/BibleAbuse/index.php

Here you will find a kind, understanding tone, and a genuine attempt to shed clarity and light on how certain passages from the KJV translation of the Bible have found their way into the warp and weft of christian presupposition in our culture today.  They consider the historicity of the times the biblical passages were recorded, as well as the same dynamic for the times of the translators.  They consider various agendas that were historically influential in the power struggles between church and state and how that struggle led to error.

Best of all, they try to give a nuanced and detailed understanding of the various words both biblically  and in the common use of the day culturally.

If you are a believer and grew up being taught the common cultural expressions that christendom was infected with from the KJV, and if you also sense in your heart that those positions just do not cut it and are not reflective of the Love of Jesus and His lifestyle, and if you still want to feel good about living by the Bible and its teachings so you don’t just get tossed about on every wave of doctrine and current fashion of thought, then this site will be of help!

If you are a believer and you are of the ilk that considers homosexuality to be the ultimate triple-dog-dare double secret probation sin above all sins, this site may help you see how your approach “murders” the very ones you profess to love so deeply while despising their short-comings.

And to all of us, Constance…let’s strive to accept everyone we meet in the very way we desire to be accepted!  I think that the story of the prodigal son provides a good model for us, in the person of the father…and I have this sneaking suspicion that anything different than this sort of acceptance and compassion would be a shadow on His heart and a pain in His side.

 

Love, Charissa

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The Doctrine of Trans, Part 2

The Doctrine of Trans, Part 2.

Good Morning Constance…Part 2 from Trans-girl at the Cross.

Prolly of interest only to my readers who are Christian, but even if you aren’t it is worth a look, for it gives some insight into the subtlety of biblical interpretation, and the importance of letting the text speak for God instead of the reader reading her own opinions into the text and then taking the name of the Lord vainly by claiming that God has said something He has not said.

Praying that Lady Grace prevails in the hearts of the Church, and that a place for all LGTBQ people is warmly secured at the table of Their Communion and Fellowship,

Charissa

In the Oak Grove

All existence seems qualified
By your smile–
or a dubious look in your eyes
All existence becomes distinct, (distinct)

crystalline and substantial
(succinct)
by the grace that flows
from a movement
of your hand that confers
forgiveness for words spoken
without reflection

All existence is turning here, now,
About a fragment moment.  OH!
You must know that only you
Bring me health and a
Cooling breeze from heaven.

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Transgender Violence Is a #YesAllWomen Issue | The Nation

Transgender Violence Is a #YesAllWomen Issue | The Nation.

Constance…this is must reading, but even more so…must living.

It must stop.

I do not care if you are male, female, gender fluid, straight, gay, bi, asexual…

I do not care if you are conservative or liberal, christian identified or not…the killing of women in general, and trans-women specifically is literally unacceptable!

By any standard, in any ethical system.

And yet it continues…

Men:  if you do not begin to lead out strong in your groups and spaces, and live out just and humble relationships, then you are as guilty of these crimes as the actual perpetrators…

Women:  if you stay silent, in word and deed, and do not find a way to make it clear to the people you are in relationship with that this way of living is unacceptable, then you are the modern day equivalent of the 1940s Jewish collaborators who sought to avoid persecution by collaborating with their oppressor.

I regret that I did not understand these things years ago…but that is irrelevant, for this is now.

Change must start now.  Right now…for if not, when?

After thousands more have been brutalized and senselessly slaughtered?

Sober and sorrowful,

Charissa

How should we then speak?

Hi Constance…I am recovering nicely after yesterday’s very difficult day, thanks for asking!       🙂       Writing those poems helped some, getting those feelings out there so I could see them, and somehow wrestle my own self into a somewhat numb place, to endure.

For anyone reading this who isn’t susceptible to the assault that feelings can be on your heart, think heavy rainstorm:  you can walk around in it with regular clothes, or you can dress in rain-gear and an umbrella…but you cannot make it stop raining.  It will stop when it stops.

Anyway…I am re-posting an article that I thought was very educational about gender dynamics and socialization in our culture…please read it and follow the numerous links for a pretty good layout of the issues.

But here is why I am re-blogging this:  I am wondering, as a daughter of Lady Grace and child of The Father and sister to my older Brother Jesus, what should my speech dynamics and content look like?  This question popped into my lil hamster brain and has been running on the wheel ever since.

I do believe that even a cursory search of the New Testament will give plenty of raw material directed at speech and conduct that is gender-neutral, and is directed at looking after yourself first instead of correcting and policing others in their behaviour according to your own pet view of what these verses say and mean.

It always does a ton of good to bite your tongue, literally if need be, before you utter one negative or harsh word to someone else.  First, walk an entire week practicing the very thing you wish to lay on someone else.  Second, read about beams and sawdust specks in the Sermon on the Mount.  Third, walk another week practicing the thing that caught your attention.  And then, lastly, finally let it dawn on you that Lady Grace was prompting you on the very thing you projected onto someone else.

You will then be so sweet that people will be drawn to you like bees to a sweet flower, and they will ask you for input.

Just some thoughts from Charissa Grace…now read on for far more erudite and informed ones!

Love, Charissa

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Soraya Chemaly Headshot

10 Words Every Girl Should Learn

Posted: 06/30/2014 1:57 pm EDT 
WOMAN LISTENING TO MAN

This article updated from original, which appeared in Role Reboot.

 

“Stop interrupting me.” 

“I just said that.”

“No explanation needed.”

In fifth grade, I won the school courtesy prize. In other words, I won an award for being polite. My brother, on the other hand, was considered the class comedian. We were very typically socialized as a “young lady” and a “boy being a boy.” Globally, childhood politeness lessons are gender asymmetrical. We socialize girls to take turns, listen more carefully, not curse and resist interrupting in ways we do not expect boys to. Put another way, we generally teach girls subservient habits and boys to exercise dominance.

I routinely find myself in mixed-gender environments (life) where men interrupt me. Now that I’ve decided to try and keep track, just out of curiosity, it’s quite amazing how often it happens. It’s particularly pronounced when other men are around.

This irksome reality goes along with another — men who make no eye contact. For example, a waiter who only directs information and questions to men at a table, or the man last week who simply pretended I wasn’t part of a circle of five people (I was the only woman). We’d never met before and barely exchanged 10 words, so it couldn’t have been my not-so-shrinking-violet opinions.

These two ways of establishing dominance in conversation, frequently based on gender, go hand-in-hand with this last one: A woman, speaking clearly and out loud, can say something that no one appears to hear, only to have a man repeat it minutes, maybe seconds later, to accolades and group discussion.

After I wrote about the gender confidence gap recently, of the 10 items on a list, the one that resonated the most was the issue of whose speech is considered important. In sympathetic response to what I wrote, a person on Twitter sent me a cartoon in which one woman and five men sit around a conference table. The caption reads, “That’s an excellent suggestion, Miss Triggs. Perhaps one of the men here would like to make it.” I don’t think there is a woman alive who has not had this happen.

The cartoon may seem funny, until you realize exactly how often it seriously happens. And — as in the cases of Elizabeth Warren or say, Brooksley Born — how broadly consequential the impact can be. When you add race and class to the equation the incidence of this marginalization is even higher.

This suppressing of women’s voices, in case you are trying to figure out what Miss Triggs was wearing or drinking or might have said to provoke this response, is what sexism sounds like.

These behaviors, the interrupting and the over-talking, also happen as the result of difference in status, but gender rules. For example, male doctors invariably interrupt patients when they speak, especially female patients, but patients rarely interrupt doctors in return. Unless the doctor is a woman. When that is the case, she interrupts far less and is herself interrupted more. This is also true of senior managers in the workplace. Male bosses are not frequently talked over or stopped by those working for them, especially if they are women; however, female bosses are routinely interrupted by their male subordinates.

This preference for what men have to say, supported by men and women both, is a variant on “mansplaining.” The word came out of an article by writer Rebecca Solnit, who explained that the tendency some men have to grant their own speech greater import than a perfectly competent woman’s is not a universal male trait, but the “intersection between overconfidence and cluelessness where some portion of that gender gets stuck.”

Solnit’s tipping point experience really did take the cake. She was talking to a man at a cocktail party when he asked her what she did. She replied that she wrote books and she described her most recent one, River of Shadows: Eadweard Muybridge and the Technological Wild WestThe man interrupted her soon after she said the word Muybridge and asked, “And have you heard about the very important Muybridge book that came out this year?” He then waxed on, based on his reading of a review of the book, not even the book itself, until finally, a friend said, “That’s her book.” He ignored that friend (also a woman) and she had to say it more than three times before “he went ashen” and walked away. If you are not a woman, ask any woman you know what this is like, because it is not fun and happens to all of us.

In the wake of Larry Summers’ “women can’t do math” controversy several years ago, scientist Ben Barres wrote publicly about his experiences, first as a woman and later in life, as a male. As a female student at MIT, Barbara Barres was told by a professor after solving a particularly difficult math problem, “Your boyfriend must have solved it for you.” Several years after, as Ben Barres, he gave a well-received scientific speech and he overhead a member of the audience say, “His work is much better than his sister’s.”

Most notably, he concluded that one of the major benefits of being male was that he could now “even complete a whole sentence without being interrupted by a man.”

I’ve had teenage boys, irritatingly but hysterically, excuse what they think is “lack of understanding” to [my] “youthful indiscretion.” Last week as I sat in a cafe, a man in his 60′s stopped to ask me what I was writing. I told him I was writing a book about gender and media and he said, “I went to a conference where someone talked about that a few years ago. I read a paper about it a few years ago. Did you know that car manufacturers use slightly denigrating images of women to sell cars? I’d be happy to help you.” After I suggested, smiling cheerily, that the images were beyond denigrating and definitively injurious to women’s dignity, free speech and parity in culture, he drifted off.

It’s not hard to fathom why so many men tend to assume they are great and that what they have to say is more legitimate. It starts in childhood and never ends. Parents interrupt girls twice as often and hold them to stricter politeness norms. Teachers engage boys, who correctly see disruptive speech as a marker of dominant masculinity, more often and more dynamically than girls.

As adults, women’s speech is granted less authority and credibility. We aren’t thought of as able critics or as funny. Men speak moremore often, and longer than women in mixed groups (classroomsboardroomslegislative bodiesexpert media commentary and, for obvious reasons religious institutions.) Indeed, in male-dominated problem solving groups including boards, committees and legislatures, men speak 75% more than women, with negative effects on decisions reached. That’s why, as researchers summed up, “Having a seat at the table is not the same as having a voice.”

Even in movies and television, male actors engage in more disruptive speech and garner twice as much speaking and screen time as their female peers. This is by no means limited by history or to old media but is replicated online. Listserve topics introduced by men have a much higher rate of response and on Twitter, people retweet men two times as often as women.

These linguistic patterns are consequential in many ways, not the least of which is the way that they result in unjust courtroom dynamics, where adversarial speech governs proceedings and gendered expression results in women’s testimonies being interrupted, discounted and portrayed as not credible according to masculinized speech norms. Courtrooms also show exactly how credibility and status, women’s being lower, are also doubly affected by race. If Black women testifying in court adopt what is often categorized as “[white] women’s language,” they are considered less credible. However, if they are more assertive, white jurors find them “rude, hostile, out of control, and, hence [again], less credible.” Silence might be an approach taken by women to adapt to the double bind, but silence doesn’t help when you’re testifying.

The best part though is that we are socialized to think women talk more. Listener bias results in most people thinking that women are hogging the floor when men are actually dominating. Linguists have concluded that much of what is popularly understood about women and men being from different planets, verbally, confuses “women’s language” with “powerless language.”

There are, of course, exceptions that illustrate the role that gender (and not biological sex) plays. For example, I have a very funny child who regularly engages in simultaneous speech, disruptively interrupts and randomly changes topics. If you read a script of a one of our typical conversations, you would probably guess the child is a boy based on the fact that these speech habits are what we think of as “masculine.” The child is a girl, however. She’s more comfortable with overt displays of assertiveness and confidence than the average girl speaker. It’s hard to balance making sure she keeps her confidence with teaching her to be polite. However, excessive politeness norms for girls, expected to set an example for boys, have real impact on women who are, as we constantly hear, supposed to override their childhood socialization and learn to talk like men to succeed (learn to negotiate, demand higher pay, etc.).

The first time I ran this post, I kid you not, the first response I got was from a Twitter user, a man, who, without a shred of self-awareness, asked, “What would you say if a man said those things to you mid-conversation?”

Socialized male speech dominance is a significant issue, not just in school, but everywhere. If you doubt me, sit quietly and keep track of speech dynamics at your own dinner table, workplace, classroom. In the school bus, the sidelines of fields, in places of worship. It’s significant and consequential.

People often ask me what to teach girls or what they themselves can do to challenge sexism when they see it. “What can I do if I encounter sexism? It’s hard to say anything, especially at school.” In general, I’m loathe to take the approach that girls should be responsible for the world’s responses to them, but I say to them, practice these words, every day:

“Stop interrupting me,”

“I just said that,” and

“No explanation needed.”

It will do both boys and girls a world of good. And no small number of adults, as well.

Follow Soraya Chemaly on Twitter: www.twitter.com/schemaly

Must Read Article If You Are A Regular Sunday-Meeting Attender

Hi Constance…if you go to a building known as a house of worship on Sundays regularly, and meet with God and like-minded individuals…commonly and carelessly called “going to church”…then you need to read the article posted below.

I sort of have a bias against that phrase “going to church”, because the church is a living organism that exists in a spiritual state of being.  It is the whole comprised of the sum total of the relationship of believers with each other, with God individually, and with God collectively.  It is like unto our own bodies, and as such it can get sick…it can be maimed…it can flourish…it can cut off limbs from itself…and above all it should grow and mature.

Right now there are many illness and afflictions which characterize the church far more than her strengths and beauties (which are there, btw).  One of them is the stronghold of cold love that has crept into the heart of the church.  Another is the haughty spirit of self-righteousness that has led her to believe that she is made beautiful by her right actions in adhering to a set of standards that she has diligently carved out of the sum total of God’s love letter to us, The Bible.

This haughtiness is there against sooo many people and classes…it is never more visible than it is in the way that the LGTBQ is treated by her and by sooo many of her individual members.

Sadly, she thinks she does a service for God by this!

It has to stop…for her to truly become beautiful, and for her to grow up into that mature and complete person that Paul speaks of in Ephesians.  Her destiny is to be the Bride of the One who gave all to bring us back to wholeness!!!!  Will He want to marry someone soo stuck up that He could never EVER bring His friends home for dinner??

This article is strong, concrete and gives 5 things that we can do and stop doing to help the church humble herself and open her arms and join the rest of the human race on level ground before the Cross where the work of all righteousness was done and completed once for all and for all time!

Spoken with heartfelt passion and utter seriousness, in love and the hope that the wounds of this friend will be found faithful, and more to be desired than a thousand kisses from an enemy…

Charissa Grace

 

 

Five Reasons Churches Need to “Come Out” on LGBTQ Rights

Posted: 06/17/2014 9:19 pm EDT Updated: 06/18/2014 8:59 am EDT
LGBTQ YOUTH SUICIDE
 Our entire family, including my wife, Rev. Amy Piatt, and my two kids, took part in the Portland Gay Pride parade this weekend. We stood on a float in the rain and waved to thousands of people lining the streets, from the park blocks to the riverfront. It truly was a joyful day, but of course, not everyone is comfortable with the idea of the church officially being represented in the parade.

Why not just take part as individuals? Why bring such a polarizing issue into the spotlight, especially one that might make many people uncomfortable?

Here are five reasons we, as Christian institutions, need to take public stands on behalf of our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer sisters and brothers:

1) Much of the pain, and therefore, suspicion and resentment, lies at the institutional level. It’s one thing for a person who identifies as a Christian to take the risk of putting themselves out there to say they support or affirm someone’s God-given orientation or identity. It’s entirely another when a church body does so. As long as the efforts to reconcile the brokenness between the Christian community and the LGBTQ community remain at the individual level, the history of marginalization and judgment lingers like an ever-present shadow.

2) The Churches’ window of opportunity to be on the right side of history is closing. At the risk of sounding opportunistic, too many Christians found themselves on the rather embarrassing end of the debate about slavery, desegregation, and even women’s rights and in some cases still today. Nearly anyone with a compassionate heart and some sense of history would look back on those movements as something for which Christian churches should have been champions on the forefront. Yes, some were, but certainly not enough. And honestly, if we continue to advocate for some people being treated as “less than” others in any way, how can we claim the Gospel as our mandate with any credibility? We’re seeing history change before our eyes with regard to same-sex rights; shall we be remembered, once again, as one of the few holdouts clinging to the social equivalent of a flat-earth mentality?

3) People need to know where their sanctuaries are. Despite much progress toward equality for LGBTQ persons, there still is an inherent fear, or at least anxiety, about where one will be tolerated, if not openly welcomed. By taking such a public position, churches assure those seeking refuge from a lifetime of judgment or condemnation that there is a place for them.

4) We’re commanded to go to those in need of God’s grace. Sure, it’s all well and good to take an official stand as a congregation or denomination from a boardroom or in a set of bylaws no one will ever read. But saying we’re affirming of LGBTQ rights takes very little risk on our part. If someone has taken the bold step to be open and forthright about their identity or orientation in the public sphere, the least we can do is act in kind. Yes, it’s vulnerable and a little bit scary to go as a group of Christians to a pride parade. Someone might reject us. Someone might unload their pent-up pain or anger toward Christianity on us. Much like they’ve had people do to them, no doubt, being part of the LGBTQ tribe. Jesus didn’t sit back at the temple and wait for people to cue up and ask for his grace; He went out into the world, noticed where the needs were around him and addressed them, head-on. Why, as followers of the path Christ illuminated for us, should we expect our work to be any different.

5) Love is without condition. Period. Perhaps you’re still wrestling with the “gay issue” because of your understanding of scripture. As long as you’re at least wrestling, I applaud that. It means you care. But if you use such reservations about an issue to withhold radical, boundary-smashing love and grace from any of God’s children, you’re denying the humanity at the heart of the Greatest Commandment while navel-gazing and calling it Bible study. Your LGBTQ brothers and sisters are worthy of your love and grace, and God’s love and grace, as much as those you find it so easy to love. But Jesus is clear that we should not be content with loving the one’s we’re already comfortable loving. The very people who you struggle to open your heart to are the ones to whom you are commanded to give yourself fully. With all your soul, strength and mind. And if we can’t stand shoulder-to-shoulder on such principles as this, what in the hell are we worth as Church universal?

Follow Christian Piatt on Twitter: www.twitter.com/christianpiatt

Worthy Podcast Interview w/Alana Nicole Sholar & Bobbie Thompson

Transition Transmission Transgender Podcast : Transition Transmission Transgender Podcast Ep 043 – Interview with Alana Nicole Sholar & Bobbie Thompson.

Constance…I want to reblog this podcast episode that I listened to yesterday.  While there are things here that I do not necessarily find consonance with, nevertheless there is plenty here to inform, educate, and encourage.

It’s rare to find a supportive spouse when a transgender partner comes out and this couple seems to be a very good example.

I also like how they do not choose to be offended and haughty when they are asked well meaning but ignorant questions.  This is the kind of attitude I believe in general is most fruitful and specifically when our toes get stepped on?  Well…that is love, pure and simple.

So when you have an hour or so where you will be doing something that you can do while you listen?  Give it a go…while ironing, while cooking something, while exercising, whenever…I don’t think you will be disappointed with the time investment.

It is my hope that someday I can be this bold and straightforward and gracefully “unaware” of the hurtful and destructive things around me.

Transition Transmission Transgender Podcast : Transition Transmission Transgender Podcast Ep 043 – Interview with Alana Nicole Sholar & Bobbie Thompson.

Direct download: ttep043.mp3

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It’s Time For People to Stop Using the Social Construct of “Biological Sex” to Defend Their Transmisogyny | Autostraddle

It’s Time For People to Stop Using the Social Construct of “Biological Sex” to Defend Their Transmisogyny | Autostraddle.

Reposting this interesting and informative article.  It debunks the major tropes that reinforce the binary gender roles that our culture is wed to.

I will just say this:  regardless of what the defenders of orthodoxy say, in my own life experience I never found integration with the strange awkward body I “woke up” in.  I never had identification to the part of “my organism” that hung between my legs, and I never understood why the presence of this defined my entire being and thus consigned me to a prison of expectations that were untenable, societal roles that were monolithic and dictatorial, and a life of sorrow and confusion when young, and numbed monochromatic denial and the mere passing of days in the prison sentence called a life.

And my experience is mirrored by uncountable people born just the way I was, and feel like I feel.  That was the phenomenous thing to me:  when I started reading the stories of other transgender people, and it was eerie how exact our experiences were!  Regardless of if it was MtF or FtM or intersexed…the emotions, the dissociation, the dysphoria, the presence of abuse if action and life attempted to be taken based in our actual being rather than the assigned roles…

I have made it a central assumption here in this blog, in my spiritual writings blatantly and in my poetry implicitly, that all humans are in a transition that is essentially the same as the one transgender people make.  From my p.o.v. sanctification is the spiritual equivalence to what transition is…all of us wake up in a world that seems off, that seems twisted sideways to what our hearts anticipate and expect…all of us act in accordance with our true essence, and then get slapped down hard by the broken twist in this realm, and all of us know it ought to be different, and hope that someday…someday we shall know as we are known, and be revealed as who we are really and be received in love to live happily ever after in shalom.

When you contend for the lives and rights and beings of trans-humans, you contend for your own liberty.

Those of you who are regular here:  thank you for your kindnesses.  They have many times been the difference in my life during the storms which may otherwise have swamped me for good.

It’s Time For People to Stop Using the Social Construct of “Biological Sex” to Defend Their Transmisogyny | Autostraddle.

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Solemn…then outrage. A re-post

just to be clear – a woman who created a hashtag meant to convey the message “no, not all may be sexual aggressors but yes, all women have experienced sexism to some degree” shut down her account after repeated harassment. she wasn’t generalizing men. she wasn’t making broad, sweeping statements that people claim are the problem with women’s movements. she was only opening a conversation centered around personal stories. what is anyone supposed to take from this except that many people are simply not interested in hearing these stories at all, as sugarcoated as they may be, as tactfully they may be put? not without redirecting the conversation to focus away from women, at any rate.

A woman starts a discussion about how all women are harassed, and people respond by harassing her. There’s no room for irony in the world anymore.

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High Spring Pastiche

We had just finished our ride,
and we were parched and pressed
to sling a leg off the back of our bikes.
Salt crusted jerseys glared flat and dull
in the sultry sun of High Spring, falling
all shimmery clear and gold, splashing
on the hot black radiant parking lot
like wedding rice.

Across the street
the stilted and dumb
rain-birds spit water
on the swollen
green baseball field,
which was so happy
in the drizzle
it reeked noisily
of lazy drinks at twilight
and kids at play.

We looked on silently,
and then drained our own draughts
and added our tired joyful scent to the melange.

Soon, bikes bunked again in the van
and our 455 air-conditioner at a lazy 45,
we rolled towards dinner and wine,
and the lovely sleep of the dead a bike ride bequeaths.

My soul sang and hummed along
with the soft sibilant tires,
and I knew my favorite pasture
was soon to jump up into me
from across the ditch.

I hung my head out the window,
let my tongue taste the air
and the wind bury wild
sensual fingers in my hair.

And then she was there,
smelling ancient and new
and fresh and fertile and pulsing,
eager like love making on an endless afternoon
sweet and free under plush rustley blue skies.
I heard her song,
I felt her tug in my guts,
I tasted her tang in the wind
and shivered with delight.

She was shorn, fresh-mowed
and relieved, light and lively
and sprawling in mystery,
cloaked in new nakedness
and hidden behind beauty marks revealed.

She breathed…
deep rhythm
and spin and pulse…
deep.

Silly Samsons thought
she was Delilah returned,
so they came for
assey jawbone revenge,
and left with her full
alfalfa tresses tamed and taken.

I think she just laughed.
Because, blinded by the usual,
they had no clue that my Deborah,
my delight, my paradise
had wonders not touched
or dreamed of save by dreamers
and by trackers and wonder-holics
with the DTs of delectation
who would sell their mama’s souls
for just a whiff, just a taste, just a touch
of beyond the Beyond…
she is there for us always.

Time stood still as we passed her,
and birdsong wove wonder-ways
into her chambers, and there,
in the deep back,
where her leggy tree thatches
came together and merged,
where her center throbbed,
supple gloaming dark,
soft and silky rose
from beneath the wood,
seeped black and creamy
from the edge of field
and trees.

And I knew that I beheld the center,
the wellspring of beauty and
the font of her rivers,
her fertile forever flow,
her temple, her womb.
And I felt her curve
round her children yet born,
even as she reached
and caressed my cheek
as I flew by with kisses
of a queen to me her
handmaiden.

Soon we were passed,
hurtling headfirst towards tomorrow
while she moved and danced
and stayed rooted in her everthere.

Light just so, wind just so,
I knew that door
would never show again.
I sighed, licked my salty lips
and ached fiercely with heart

full of her sweet always song.

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Kevin Williamson shows us how to dehumanize a trans person, in three simple steps.

Kevin Williamson shows us how to dehumanize a trans person, in three simple steps..

Constance…this will give a snapshot into ways that so often we dehumanize one another…specifically in the LGBTQ community.

But think about it:  how often do these same concepts and methods get applied to one another in whatever social context we find?

Love Mercy.

Do Justly.

Walk Humbly.

 

Love and Grace,

Charissa

Kevin Williamson shows us to dehumanize a trans person, in three simple steps..

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4 Reasons Why We Need to Drop ‘You Must Be Doing Something Right!’

Constance…this is a great article!  Please read it, and put its advice into practice.  I know for myself, sometimes here I have made pleas for support, for a kind comment, for an encouraging word, and they have not returned fruitful.  I thought it was just that people didn’t care, and only wanted the pretty poems and love songs to God…well, maybe it was just that we aren’t very good at it.

Anyway, I found it helpful myself, and am resolved to encourage, regardless of the actions of others.

Yours in Encouraging Words…Charissa

 

4 Reasons Why We Need to Drop ‘You Must Be Doing Something Right!’

Source: Picky Wallpapers

If you do social justice work – especially if you’re vocal in this simultaneously glorious and frightening world known as The Internet – you’ve undoubtedly suffered your fair share of abuse.

If you’re in a marginalized community, it’s likely come in the form of oppressive violence targeting your identity in an attempt to silence you.

And if you’ve refused to shut up and sit down, I imagine that you, like me, have experienced the terror of death and rape threats.

And if you’ve ever been vocal to your friends and family about your experiences, I’m going to bet that at least once in your life, someone has attempted to placate you by letting you know that “you must be doing something right” if you’re making people angry.

And, okay, I get their point.

Social reform doesn’t come easy. And attempting to affect the fundamental nature of society is, of course, by definition, radical.

I may have a complicated relationship with the word “radical,” but the truth of the matter is that questioning – let alone actively working to upset – the status quo is always going to be radical in nature. Because it makes people uncomfortable.

But there’s a big difference between making people uncomfortable and making them violently angry.

Making people uncomfortable? That’s part of the job. That’s a good sign that you’re doing something right.

People coming at you with death threats? Not the same thing.

And I don’t know about you, but when people apply the “you must be doing something right” band-aid to every instance of my feeling vulnerable and emotional, it has the opposite effect that they hope it will.

It doesn’t feel comforting and inspiring. It actually feels kind of trivializing – and even silencing.

So here are some reasons why you might want to drop “you must be doing something right!”

1. It Isn’t Necessarily True

I do values clarification-based education for a living. My job, day in and day out, is to run workshops where I challenge people to question their most deeply held beliefs around sexuality and relationships.

Facilitating affective learning is a skill – and it’s a hard one. It involves very consciously and deliberately bringing people to the edge of their comfort zones to offer them alternative perspectives. It also means (at least externally) withholding judgment, which includes in its bag of tricks a very practiced poker face.

Now, if I do my job correctly, people will walk out of my workshops with a little bit of anxiety and a whole lot to think about. They should leave there feeling challenged, but safe. They should feel that their worldviews were respected while also engaging in different viewpoints.

But sometimes that’s not what happens.

Sometimes I get that one student on an already stressful day who continually disrupts my lesson to assert their belief that – most commonly – people who stay in abusive relationships must like being abused or there are conditions under which people cannot say no to sex.

And sometimes when this student really grates on my nerves, I can lose my cool and say something snarky or otherwise assert my dominance as the leader in the room. It happens rarely, but it happens.

And that is the point at which I have failed.

Because that student is going to walk away having learned nothing except that the lady who came to their class to talk about domestic violence can’t follow her own ground rules around respecting others’ opinions.

In the case where someone feels unfairly disrespected by me, I have not “done something right.” If anything – and trust me, my supervisor would agree – I have done something wrong. And telling me that turning what could have been a teachable moment into a power struggle was appropriate actually isn’t helpful.

Look. We’re all human, and we are all expected to have these days where the weight of the world is simply too much to bear and we take it out on someone whose comment is our last straw, but that is not an indication that we have done something right.

It’s simply an indication that our work is still desperately needed.

Bringing people past the brink of discomfort is not what most of us are setting out to do – certainly not if we’re trying to affect real change.

And telling us that we “must be doing something right” just because we got into a verbal scuffle with someone diminishes the good, hard work that activists and educators are doing every day.

Instead, try this: “It sounds like you had a really rough day today. I’m sorry that that conversation escalated to a place that made both of you angry. The work that you do is greatly valuable and necessary – as is evident by this story. I’m glad you’re out there in the trenches. If you need anything, let me know.”

2. It’s Misunderstanding the Issue

I have friends – many of you are probably reading this now: hi! – who I greatly respect who sometimes I have huge disagreements with. Sometimes the articles that I share on Facebook become battlefields where groups are pitted against one another, trying to prove their points.

And we get passionate. And we get frustrated. And probably for a little while, we’re not one another’s biggest fans.

But then we calm down, we remember how awesome one another is, and we agree to disagree.

This can happen with strangers, too.

Sometimes people really do want to engage with you intellectually, even if the two of you completely disagree. Sometimes people really are looking for a debate, rather than a fight. And if you find those people hovering in your Twitter mentions, it’s okay to engage with them.

A conversation can be passionate without being threatening.

And while you might feel frustrated or misunderstood for a little while, usually these conversations don’t end in your feeling scared or dejected. They don’t inspire subtweets or venting text messages to your activist friends.

These aren’t the conversations we’re referring to when we go on a rant.

These are conversations that you expect and even sometimes invite. I – as naive and idealist as this arguably is – want to have conversations and work toward creating a better world. Sometimes that means debating.

Those are the times when, yes, I am “doing something right.”

But when some asshole on the Internet is calling me an ugly slut because I wrote an article about how grammar snobbery is oppressive, that’s a problem.

And when you lump a productive (albeit stressful) debate together with a straight-up attack and apply the same salve to those wounds, you’re missing out on a hugely important difference.

In one case, there is equal power in the conversation. In the other, one person is asserting control.

And when the latter happens, it doesn’t make me feel better to be told that I “must be doing something right.”

Instead, try this: “I know that you probably already know this, but that person had no right to say that to you. It was brave of you to engage in a conversation with them, but also remember that you deserve to take self-care, and it isn’t your job or responsibility to respond to trolls. You can call me to vent if you want to!”

3. It’s Dismissive

If I put up a Facebook status that says that I had a really difficult interaction with someone, particularly on the Internet, that resulted in my feeling uncomfortable at best and threatened at worst, the last thing I’m looking for is quote-unquote “validation” from someone letting me know that I “must be doing something right.”

What I need in a time like that is support.

If I’m reaching out to you – either directly, like in a text, or indirectly, like in a general post – it’s because I need something more substantial than a pat on the back.

And while I tend to be really, really good at specifically asking for the type of support that I need, most people are not. Most people will throw a general comment out into the void, hoping (consciously or subconsciously) that someone will come along and say or offer the right thing.

Rarely is “you must be doing something right” what they’re looking for.

Unfortunately, on top of the many other ways in which society has screwed us over, most of us were brought up thinking that we’re magically supposed to know how to solve every problem. It’s like we think we came equipped with problem-solving abilities at birth, and that if we can’t fix it, we must be failures.

So, for that reason, people feel really, really uncomfortable asking, “What kind of support do you need right now?”

Well, everyone except therapists and some other human service professionals, in my experience.

The impression that “you must be doing something right” can give is along the lines of “you’re strong enough to deal with this on your own” – which I don’t think has ever really made anyone feel much better.

So often, other people (especially women, especially women with other intersecting marginalized identities) that I’ve known have shared with me something that I’ve felt for my entire life, too: that they need space to feel weak sometimes.

The point is: Yes, we know we can get through this. But if I threw out a cry for help, it’s because I need help – not because I need a reminder of my strength or righteousness.

So help me.

Throwing out a pseudo-inspirational gem is dismissive of the severity of the problem that I’m having and of my need for support.

You don’t need to have a magic cure. But it certainly helps more when you offer me a life raft than when you remind me that I know how to swim.

Instead, try this: “I really want to support you right now, but I’m not sure what you need. Just remember, honestly, that I’m always here for you. Here’s my number in case you don’t have it. Maybe we could do dinner next week? Anything you want. Just let me know.”

4. It Implies That Abuse Comes with the Territory

I know that this is going to feel like a huge jump to make, but hear me out.

Something that I hear a lot working for a domestic violence agency is the idea that sometimes abuse is excusable – or at least something that simply needs to be tolerated.

From “they’re violent because they’re passionate because they love you so much” to “you live a good life and are well-taken care of, so this is a small price to pay,” some people hold onto the notion that we have to take the good with the bad – even when the bad is abusive.

So let me be the first to tell you: That’s bullshit.

Just like I make it clear to my workshop participants that no one deserves abuse ever, I want to make it clear to you activists out there that no one deserves abuse ever.

There is not a single thing on Earth that you can do that warrants being attacked – physically or emotionally.

And the implication that “you must be doing something right” in your activism if you’re on the receiving end of cruelty and threats is a dangerous one – because it implies that abuse comes with the territory.

Does abuse come with the territory? Unfortunately, yes.

Should it? Hell no.

And you should not be expected to tolerate it.

If you want to block @MRAsAreSoCool on Twitter, go ahead. If you want to disable your comments on YouTube, you can. If you want to shut off anonymous asks on Tumblr, that’s an option for you. If you need to unfriend some annoying acquaintances on Facebook, go for it.

And if you want to complain about abuse and expect your loved ones to support your liberty to be an activist without the threat of violence, that is in your right.

And no one – no one – should make you feel like you deserve (or should expect) it for “doing something right.”

Because when I’m doing a good job, I want a gold star or something (hey, I’m easy), not someone to tell me that they want to smash my teeth in.

And (shockingly!) that’s not an unfair expectation.

Instead, try this: “No one deserves to be talked to that way. I’m sorry that that happened to you. I know how frustrating this side of activism can be. If you want to talk about it over coffee, I’m down. Just remember that block features exist for a reason, and you’re not showing signs of weakness by not tolerating this kind of nonsense.”

***

When I’m in a stable place and a good mood, I can roll my eyes and laugh off some threats, knowing that all these people are doing is proving that my work is necessary.

But there are other times when I cannot contain my anger, my fear, or my tears.

And that’s okay.

But at the end of the day, when I’m crawling into bed, I already know that I’m doing something right – or else I wouldn’t be doing it.

Sometimes what I need to be reminded of is that my friends and family care about me, support me, and will defend my right to live fearlessly.

Give me more of that.

Yes. All Men. | Consent Culture

Yes. All Men. | Consent Culture.

Constance…I am pressing yet another fabulous piece on misogynist culture and our responsibility to take our courage in hand and root out this evil mode of being.

I believe it is more than thought…it has become a lifestyle.

The language and spirit of this piece is tough, but so what?  Plow thru it anyway…and men, particularly note the mandate you are issued towards the end of your responsibility to go to work specifically in “men-only” spaces.  In my life of consignment to men-only spaces, I was not the only one protesting the treatment of women precisely 4 times, and that is in my lifetime so far to the best of my recollection.

It doesn’t take courage to beat up a girl…but it does take courage to stand up to other men and say no more.

Yes. All Men. | Consent Culture.

Misogynist Extremism part 2:

Another scintillating article,  from

 

Read it and weep!

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When I was a freshman, my sister was in eighth grade. There was a boy in two of her periods who would ask her out every single day. (Third and seventh period, if I remember correctly.) All day during third and seventh she would repeatedly tell him no. She didn’t beat around the bush, she didn’t lie and say she was taken—she just said no.

One day, in third period, after being rejected several times, he said; “I have a gun in my locker. If you don’t say yes, I am going to shoot you in seventh.”

She refused again, but right after class she went to the principal’s office and told them what happened. They searched his locker and there was a gun in his backpack.

When he was arrested, some of my sister’s friends (some female, even) told her that she was selfish for saying no so many times. That because of her, the entire school was in jeopardy. That it wouldn’t have killed her to say yes and give it a try, but because she was so mean to him, he lost his temper. Many of her male friends said it was “girls like her” that made all women seem like cockteases.

Wouldn’t have killed her to say yes? If a man is willing to shoot someone for saying no, what happens to the poor soul who says yes? What happens the first time they disagree? What happens the first time she says she doesn’t want to have sex? That she isn’t in the mood? When they break up?

Years later, when I was a senior, I was the only girl in my Criminal Justice class. The teacher, who used to be a sergeant in the police force, told us a story of something that had happened to a girl he knew when she was in high school. There was a guy who obviously had a crush on her and he made her uncomfortable. One day he finally gathered up the courage to ask her out, and she said no.

The next day, during an assembly, he pulled a gun on her in front of everyone and threatened to kill her if she didn’t date him.

He was tackled to the ground and the gun was taken from him.

When my teacher asked the class who was at fault for the crime, I was the only person who said the boy was. All the other kids in the class (who were all boys) said that the girl was, that if she had said yes he would’ve never lost it and brought a gun and tried to kill her. When my teacher said that they were wrong and that this is what is wrong with society, that whenever a white boy commits a crime it’s someone else’s fault (music, television, video games, the victim) one boy raised his hand and literally said; “But if someone were to punch me and I punched him back, who is at fault for the fight? He is, not me. It’s self-defence. She started it, so anything that happens to her is in reaction to her actions .It’s simple cause and effect.”

Even though he spent the rest of the calss period ripping into the boys and saying that you are always responsible for your own actions, and that women are allowed to say no and do not have to date them, they left class laughing about how idiotic he was and that he clearly had no idea how much it hurt to be rejected.

So now we have a new school shooting, based solely on the fact some guy couldn’t get laid, and I see men, boys, applaudin him, or if they’re not applauding him, they’re laying blame on women as a whole. Just like my sister’s friends did. Just like the boys in my Criminal Justice class did.

This isn’t something that’s rare. This isn’t something that never happens, or that a select group of men feel as if they are so entitled to women that saying no is not only the worst possible thing a woman can do, but is considered a form of “defence” when they commit a crime upon them (whether it be rape or murder-as-a-reaction-towards-rejection).

Girls are being killed for saying no to prom invites. Girls are being killed for saying no to men. They are creating an atmosphere where women are too scared to say no, and the worst part is? They are doing it intentionally. They want society to be that way, they want women to say yes entirely out of fear. Even the boys and men who aren’t showing up to schools with guns are saying; “Well, you know, I wouldn’t do that, but you have to admit that if she had just said yes …”

If you are a man and you defend this guys’ actions or try to find an excuse for it, or you denounce what really happened, or in any way lay blame on women, every girl you know, every woman you love, has just now thought to themselves that you might lose your shit and kill them someday for saying no. You have just lost their trust. And you know what? You deserve to lose it.

Misogyny: A virulent doctrine of demons

Misogyny:  The mistrust and hatred of women.

That is how the dictionary defines the word…and it is a real thing.

I know.

I was “undercover” in men only spaces virtually my entire life, and the things I heard were appalling, chilling, infuriating, depressing, and maddening.  Words laced with violence, and then passed off has humor or jokes…words that objectified women, and even worse.  Words spoken with literally no awareness at all of what they were actually saying, and when challenged, the challenger is immediately attacked and dehumanized as well…I know that from experience also.

I heard young boys talk about beating up girls who didn’t dance with them in middle school.  I heard older boys/young men in high school tease one another about not “getting any” from their girlfriends, and then urge one another to take what they want because “the bitch is holding out on you and wants you to take it” (literal quote).  I heard men at work tell each other that they needed to back hand their uppity wives who nagged them or spoke out to them.  I heard men in church (God please have mercy) speak of women in ways that were as demeaning as any of the things I listed above, just minus the language…men who told their wives to shut up, in front of other people (and then get praised for it as being a proper head of their wife), men who rebuked other “men” who didn’t constrain their wives or daughters (happened to me all the time, except that I argued back…these are the fellows who will curse me as a hell-bound demon possessed sex crazed pervert when they find out that I am transitioning…I dread that time coming up, and hope I survive it).

We need to fully wake up as a society to the virulent cancer that is amongst us and rots at half the human population indirectly, and often kills the other half often while constantly doing them spiritual, emotional and mental harm.

The roots of this hatred are ancient.  It seems to be present in all eras in all places, with few exceptions.  I hate it…with a passion, and I have absolutely no agreement with it.  I believe that this hatred is demonic in nature, certainly metaphorically if not literally.  It is informative that Genesis 3 has words about the “why” of misogyny, but this post is not about that for now.

We just had a massacre, an orgy of violence occur, and it seems that the main response has been that it is a tragedy perpetrated by a crazy man…except that it happens so often, and across so many racial and cultural lines, that to excuse it as the act of a crazy man is just not a sufficient explanation.  Because it implicates vast scores of men as crazy.  Even a cursory examination of crime files and stories reveal case after case after case after case of men who use violence to act out against women, and typically in rationality, knowing full well what they are doing.

It is time to wake up:  Men!  This is not in anyway shape or form okay, and it is not acceptable any longer for you to excuse these acts by the liteny of magic words continually used “…but not all men are that way…”  D’rrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!  That misses the point!

Women!  It is not okay any longer for you to enable this behaviour and mode of thought with “Stockholm Syndrome” behaviour (if you don’t know what that is google it).  It is not okay for you to empower this attitude and practice in men in the hope that your own deal will be a little better.  The life of a collaborator is a pale shadow of fulfillment, and is the epitome of lukewarmness.

The article I am re-posting is full of anger, grief, rage, and a little fear as well…consider it carefully.  Let it hit you in the gut.

And then remember that the statistics of violence and murder against transgender women are exponentially higher than those regarding the cis-gender population of women…to the order of this:  proportionately there would need to be over 2.4 million violent acts ending in medical treatment or death  per year to achieve equality as a ratio with the number that occur against the transgender female population per year.  Chew on that number!

Every single reader of this…stop and ask for a scouring of your heart, soul, and mind.  Is there a vestige of this horrible cancer within you?  If so, beg for it to be rooted from you, and your thoughts and attitudes cleansed, and your determination to eradicate this evil grow, soaring and firm!

Do Justly.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa Grace

 

Let’s call the Isla Vista killings what they were: misogynist extremism

For some time now, misogynist extremism has been excused, as all acts of terrorism committed by white men are excused, as an aberration, as the work of random loons, not real men at all. Why are we denying the existence of a pattern?

A shattered window at the crime scene in Isla Vista. Photo: Getty
A shattered window at the crime scene in Isla Vista. Photo: Getty

It’s time to call misogynist extremism by its name.

On Friday night, a young man went on a massacre in Santa Barbara that left six other people dead and seven injured. In the hours before the massacre, the suspect, 22-year-old Elliot Rodger, had uploaded a video to YouTube titled “Retribution”. In this, and in a 140-page manifesto published online, Rodger claimed that he was going to prove himself the ultimate “alpha male” and take revenge on all the “sluts” who had sexually rejected him:

“Tomorrow is the day of retribution, the day in which I will have my revenge . . . you girls aren’t attracted to me, but I will punish you all for it. I’ll take great pleasure in slaughtering all of you. You will finally see that I am in truth the superior one, the true alpha male.”

This is not the first time that women and unlucky male bystanders have been massacred by men claiming sexual frustration as justification for their violence. In 1989, 25-year-old Marc Lépine shot 28 people at the École Polytechnique in Quebec, Canada, claiming he was “fighting feminism”. Fourteen women died. In 2009, a 48-year-old man called George Sodini walked into a gym in the Pittsburgh area and shot 13 women, three of whom died. His digital manifesto was a lengthier version of Rodger’s, vowing vengeance against the female sex for refusing to provide him with pleasure and comfort. Online misogynists approved.

“When men kill women, the underlying reason is almost always an unfulfilled psychosexual need . . . to men celibacy is walking death, and anything is justified in avoiding that miserable fate,” wrote “Roissy in DC” of the Pittsburgh killing, as reported by Jezebel in 2009.  “At least it is implied that feminism is to blame and he is taking a last stand,” said another. “I had been waiting for this (almost thinking I had to do it myself) and I am impressed. Kudos.”

The ideology behind these attacks – and there is ideology – is simple. Women owe men. Women, as a class, as a sex, owe men sex, love, attention, “adoration”, in Rodger’s words. We owe them respect and obedience, and our refusal to give it to them is to blame for their anger, their violence – stupid sluts get what they deserve. Most of all, there is an overpowering sense of rage and entitlement: the conviction that men have been denied a birthright of easy power.

Capitalism commodifies that rage, monetises it, disseminates it through handbooks and forums and crass mainstream pornography. It does not occur to these men that women might have experienced these very human things, too, because it does not occur to them that women are human, not really. Women are prizes to be caught and used or hags to be harassed or, occassionally, both.

Violent extremism always attracts the lost, the broken, young men full of rage at the hand they’ve been dealt. Violent extremism entices those who long to lash out at a system they believe has cheated them, but lack they courage to think for themselves, beyond the easy answers they are offered by pedlars of hate. Misogynist extremism is no different. For some time now misogynist extremism has been excused, as all acts of terrorism committed by white men are excused, as an aberration, as the work of random loons, not real men at all. The pattern is repeatedly denied: these are the words and actions of the disturbed.

“All I ever wanted was to love women, and in turn to be loved by them back. Their behaviour toward me has only earned my hatred and rightfully so! I am the true victim in all this. I am the good guy. . . I didn’t start this war.” 

This is how extremism works. It takes the valid and substantial anger of the dispossessed and tortures it into something twisted. It promises the lost and despairing that they will have the respect and sense of purpose they have always longed for, if they only hate hard enough. And often it starts as a game, as shadow-play.

I make no apologies for the fact that this piece is full of rage. When news of the murders broke, when the digital world began to absorb and discuss its meaning, I had been about to email my editor to request a few days off, because the impact of some particularly horrendous rape threats had left me shaken, and I needed time to collect my thoughts. Instead of taking that time, I am writing this blog, and I am doing so in rage and in grief – not just for the victims of the Isla Vista massacre, but for what is being lost everywhere as the language and ideology of the new misogyny continues to be excused.

Why can we not speak about misogynist extremism – why can we not speak about misogyny at all – even when the language used by Elliot Rodger is everywhere online?

We are told, repeatedly, to ignore it. It’s not real. It’s just “crazy”, lonely guys who we should feel sorry for. But as a mental health activist, I have no time for the language of emotional distress being used to excuse an atrocity, and as a compassionate person I am sick of being told to empathise with the perpetrators of violence any time I try to talk about the victims and survivors. That’s what women are supposed to do. We’re supposed to be infinitely compassionate. We’re supposed to feel sorry for these poor, confused, vengeful individuals. Sometimes we’re allowed to talk about our fear, as long as we don’t get angry. Most of all, we mustn’t get angry.

We have allowed ourselves to believe, for a long time, that the misogynist subcultures flourishing on- and offline in the past half-decade, the vengeful sexism seeding in resentment in a time of rage and austerity, is best ignored. We have allowed ourselves to believe that those fetid currents aren’t really real, that they don’t matter, that they have no relation to “real-world” violence. But if the Isla Vista massacre is the first confirmed incident of an incident of gross and bloody violence directly linked to the culture of ‘Men’s Rights’ activism and Pickup Artist (PUA) ideology, an ideology that preys on lost, angry men, then it cannot be ignored or dismissed any more.

We like to think that violent misogyny – not sexism, but misogyny, woman-hatred as ideology and practice, weaponised contempt for one half of the human race – isn’t something that really happens in the so-called West. No matter how many wives and girlfriends are murdered by their husbands, no matter how many rapists are let off because of their “promising careers”, violence against women is something that happens elsewhere, somewhere foreign, or historical, or both. So anxious are we to retain this convenient delusion that any person, particularly any female person, who attempts to raise a counter argument can expect to be harassed and shouted down.

As soon as women began to speak about the massacre, a curious thing happened. Men all over the world – not all men, but enough men – began to push back, to demand that we qualify our anger and mitigate our fear. Not all men are violent misogynists.

Well, there have always been good men. Actually, I firmly believe that today there are more tolerant, humane men who recognise and celebrate the equality of the sexes than there have ever been before. Today, what I hear from many men and boys who talk to me about gender justice – decent, humane men and boys of the kind the twenty-teens are also, blessedly, producing in great numbers – is fear and bewilderment. Who are these people? Where do they live? And the unspoken fear: do I know them? Might I have met some of them, drunk with them?  If the wind had changed when I was growing, if I had read different books and had different friends, might it have been me? If any man is capable of this, is every man capable of it? 

Well, those are the correct questions to ask. What I hear more often, however, is “not all men”. I hear that age-old horror of women’s anger drowning out everything else. Not all men are like this. Don’t look at us. Don’t shout at us. Please, don’t ask us to stand up and be counted.

One thing I’ve found, when talking to people involved in the savage end of the “Men’s Rights” community, the Pickup Artist scene, or both, is that to a chap they are keen that I understand the difference between their grouplet and the next – those guys over there hate women, those guys over there have a broken worldview, we’re the reasonable ones. And before the charges of book-burning and censorship begin: interpretation does change everything. There are certainly men out there who engage with the ideas of “Pickup Artistry” without absorbing the contemptuous misogyny at its core, much less pursuing it to its conclusion. One of my best relationships, in fact, was with a young man who swore by The Game as a handbook for shy boys who wanted to be able to talk to girls at parties, whilst mocking the sexism at its core.

So no, it’s not all men. But then it never was.

But if you think for one second, for one solitary second, that demanding tolerance for men as a group, that dismissing the reality of violence against women because not all men kill, not all men rape, if you think that’s more important than demanding justice for those who have been brutalised and murdered by those not all men, then you are part of the problem. You may not have pulled the trigger. You may not have raised your hand to a woman in your life. But you are part of the problem.

This is not the time, to use the refrain of apologists for bigotry, to play devil’s advocate. The devil has more than enough advocates today. On most days, I can put up with aggressive faux-objectivity being used to shout down women’s experiences and silence gendered trauma, but not today.

“Women should not have the right to choose who to mate and breed with. That decision should be made for them by rational men of intelligence . . . Women have more power in human society than they deserve, all because of sex. There is no creature more evil and depraved than the human female.”

I know for sure that just by writing this I will have exposed myself to more harassment, more threats, more verbal assaults. The comments below this piece will be stuffed, as they always are, with rank sexism, along with by a few brave souls trying to counter their arguments or maintain some pretence at tolerant, adult debate. I have clear memories of a time when I really looked forward to engaging with people who commented on my blog, even when we disagreed, when online politics was an exciting, dynamic space of living conversation. I remember it, and it’s in the cache, so it must have happened. But many young women at the start of writing and digital careers today have no such memories.

I didn’t experience violent misogyny as a child –  sexism, yes, but my early years were free of direct experience of woman-hatred against me or my loved ones, except as an abstract concept, the fear that gets taught to all girl-children as soon as they can stand unaided: don’t walk down that street, don’t wear that skirt, don’t speak too loud or upset the men. You’ll get hurt. You could get killed. For today’s girl-children, that has been expanded to include: don’t go on the internet. Bad men are there, men who will hurt you.

Many of us choose to ignore those warnings. We choose to act instead like we are real human beings with a right to take up space, like almost all women and girls who have managed to achieve anything throughout history, because that’s what those warnings are for, what the violence behind them is for – to scare us into submission. We make that choice again every day, and somehow it does not get easier – because the older and stronger we get, the bigger and stronger the new feminist movement gets in all its glorious variety, the more vicious and committed the backlash becomes. The backlash is real. There is ideology behind it. It hurts. Sometimes, it kills.

For the countless women and girls who have come to live with harassment as a daily cost of being in public and productive while female – let alone while feminist – the tragedy at Isla Vista has been a chilling wake-up call. I know I will never be able to tell myself in quite the same way that the men who link me to two-hundred-post threads about how I ought to be raped can’t actually hurt my body, no matter how much they savage my peace of mind.

We have been told for a long time that the best way to deal with this sort of harrassment and violence is to laugh it off. Women and girls and queer people have been told that online misogynists pose no real threat, even when they’re sharing intimate guides to how to destroy a woman’s self-esteem and force her into sexual submission. Well, now we have seen what the new ideology of misogyny looks like at its most extreme. We have seen incontrovertible evidence of real people being shot and killed in the name of that ideology, by a young man barely out of childhood himself who had been seduced into a disturbing cult of woman-hatred. Elliot Rodger was a victim – but not for the reasons he believed.

Misogyny is nothing new, but there is a specific and frightening trend taking place, and if we’re not going to accept it, we have to call it by its name. The title of the PUA bible belies the truth: this is not a game. Misogynist extremism does not exist in a mystical digital fairyland where there are no consequences. It is real. It does damage. It kills.  And this is no longer a topic where abstraction is anything approaching appropriate.

Laurie Penny’s Unspeakable Things: Sex, Lies and Revolution is available for pre-order.

Dialogue: the key to kind acceptance of another person

Think about a time when you met someone, someone you instantly clashed with, without a word being spoken…go ahead, I will wait…we have all had that happen.  Now:  think about someone that happened with, and then as time passed and you got to know them you discovered you were totally wrong about them, that your reaction had been all within you, and was unrelated to them completely.  I am not going to wait on this one, for these sorts of endings are more rare…at least in my life they were.  Sadly, far too often I just avoided the person and then lived…until I forgot about them, and went on in my cushy-comfy zone of complacency.

Wanna know the basic root of this phenomenon?  I think it is Xenophobia:  fear of the unknown.  A person will look different, or act different, or some other factor about them is something unknown to us…so we clench up, clam up, and withdraw…and then make up all sorts of rationales to justify our low  and venal rejection of a fellow creature made in Their image.

Generally, at least for me, dialogue precedes the change of heart and mind that I undergo when I have been in this boat.  After talking with the person (not at, or over), I discover that we have so much more in common by virtue of our shared human experience and reality than we are different.  Especially when I was firmly locked away in the christendom ghetto…I dared not talk with different people, unless I totally dominated the exchange in a monologue “devoted to evangelism”, but in truth designed to shield and protect myself from having to stretch and include someone in my world.

I think this is why so many so-called “evangelistic-efforts” end fruitless, and at times even exacerbate the divide between we who call ourselves “saved” and they whom we designate as “needing to be saved”.

Genuine dialogue bypasses all this.  Trust me, if your faith is living and genuine, and you are in relationship with Jesus more than with His book, then you will not be able to miss the chances to give an account for the Hope that is in you…they will beg to hear why you seem different (you do seem different…don’t you???).  You will find that connection…and begin to learn that the things you hid behind as reasons to not connect with people have become touchstones of punctuation in the quilt of common experience.

This is one of the main reasons I post essays on a lot of topics, and other people’s interviews of interesting people…and it is why I recommend reading the interview with Janet Mock that I post below.  It originally appeared at http://www.rookiemag.com/2014/05/janet-mock-interview/ and it is a fabulous window into the existence of one of the most influential people in our times.  Janet is uniquely positioned to touch a lot of spheres in life, and she is articulate enough to create that dialogue.

Dialogue is not something that is sorta like the old “I won’t hit you if you don’t hit me” game…that is stasis, and dead waters.  No…dialogue is living, interesting, and often the very vessel They can get into to reach our hearts and minds.

Check out the interview…I am pretty sure you will be glad you did.

Love always, and Grace upon Grace…

Charissa

 

You Can Be Free: An Interview With Janet Mock

In which we talk about her feminist icons, how teenagers are way cooler than the media thinks, and why she identifies with Tracy Flick.

Photo by Aaron Tredwell.

Pardon the hyperbole, but Janet Mock may be the best person ever. I felt this way after reading her 2013 book, Redefining Realness: My Path to Womanhood, Identity, Love & So Much More, a beautiful, powerful memoir that follows Janet from her childhood in Hawaii, where she grew up as a transgender girl, to her current position as a high-profile (and still young!) writer and activist who inspires people everywhere to live exactly as they want to live.

She decided to come out as trans in a 2011 essay in Marie Claire magazine; since then, she has worked hard to increase the visibility of transgender people, including starting the hashtag #girlslikeus, which encourages trans people to share their stories on Twitter. (She is also very good at social media.)

My feelings about her greatness only intensified when I actually got to talk to her on the phone last month, when she’d just returned home to New York from one of her many college speaking gigs. You know how sometimes you’re talking to someone and they’re just so on it that their voice crackles with electricity? That’s how Janet was.


JULIANNE: So much of Redefining Realness is your very specific memories from your childhood, some of which are so wrenching! How did you remember all of that, and how were you able to get it all out in your writing?

JANET MOCK: I started by writing journal entries. I made a commitment to myself to write 500 to 1,000 words every morning—to just catalog every memory, even if it was just a fragment, on paper. Once I really got into that space and got disciplined, I was able to re-imagine what happened and to mine the feelings and the details of that time period. That’s why there are a lot of pop culture references, because I watched so much TV! I would try to remember certain things by asking myself, What song lyrics was I trying to memorize? What type of dance moves was I trying to learn?

But then you have to remember the pain, too, and that was the hardest part—the wrenching part, as you say—having to revisit that, not as an adult, but going back as a child and feeling it again as a young person who didn’t have much agency over their body and how it felt to go through those traumatic events. So I just had to be very kind to myself as a writer, but also kind to those who wronged me, kind about the mistakes people made and how they contributed to my pain.

As a fellow writer, I have found when you’re accessing those painful things, there is an instinct to lie to yourself, in order to protect yourself. How did you avoid that?

There are certain moments in the book where I call myself out for wanting to soften things or exclude things, and that was part of being transparent. I was committed to being transparent not just through the stories I chose to tell, but throughout my writing process. I talk about my mother’s suicide attempt, and about not wanting to [write about it] because I didn’t want to see her that way. Also, some of the details of the sex work I went through as a teenage girl—sometimes I wanted to erase those from the record of my life. But being honest about that actually helped me. It relieved me from my silence and shame, and hopefully it can help other people feel that sense of relief about something that may be heavy that they’ve been holding on to for a long time.

Was wanting to find that relief one of the reasons you started writing the book?

Yeah. At first I wasn’t writing with the intention of making a memoir—I just did it ’cause I wanted to have a record for myself. It was a selfish project—there was no sense of intersectionality or social-justice jargon or anything like that. It was just about me, this girl, and her story and her pain. I was trying to get it as raw as possible on the page so that I’d know that it was real.

But when I stepped forward publicly in Marie Claire, I was like, Wow, there’s a powerful story here that I think I’m supposed to tell. I don’t mean that in a boastful way—there just aren’t many books by young marginalized women like myself who did what I did, the way I did it.

Since that Marie Claire piece came out, social justice ideas and words like intersectionality have become way more widespread, especially for young people, partly because of Tumblr. Have you seen a shift?

Ooh, Tumblr’s powerful, yes. Those words are very powerful tools for describing this oppression. And it’s great that some people have access to them—but most people don’t. For me, it was super important to not use those terms in the book, because they exclude a lot of people who don’t have educational access, or who may not be engaged in social-justice stuff, but who want to be enlightened about things, to have their political consciousnesses raised a bit. I wanted to write the book for everyone—including that girl who I was in seventh grade who didn’t even know the term transgender. I wanted to give her a book so she could also feel like she was in the know, without being talked down to or made to feel like she has to aspire to something “higher” when she already has all the knowledge she needs to define her own experience. It’s not for me to define it for her. So I wanted to use words and language that she understands.

Your book has done a lot to help trans people be recognized in the larger culture. Did anything help you feel recognized that way? There aren’t that many books out there like your book.

My reflection of myself has always been a composite of many images and people that I have met along the way. I talk a lot about Beyoncé and Clair Huxtable and Toni Morrison, and I talk about the trans women who were in my life as a teenager, and the women around me when I was growing up, my father’s sisters, my grandmother, and my mother. I saw all of these women as mirrors, and made them into my own little mirrored mosaic.

But regarding the whole genre of “trans books”—I guess they would call them “transition stories” or “transition books”: So many of them do not have the intersection of youth, and that’s pretty important, because young people oftentimes don’t have much body agency in our culture. Like, your parents can literally pick you up and take you somewhere and put you wherever they want and tell you want clothes you can wear and what clothes they’re willing to buy you. All of these things are what make finding yourself and expressing yourself and your own authenticity difficult [when you’re young]. That’s one of the things I notice when I speak to young people, that sense of struggling with their lack of agency. I just tell them that, yes, you do have agency, despite your parents. Live your life on Twitter, put up some selfies! Reblog some things! That sense of self-representation is so important.

In terms of trans women, I’m happy that there are more of us visible in mainstream media. Platforms like Tumblr and YouTube allow people to create images that they don’t see in the mainstream media—and to also talk back to mainstream media when they fuck up. Rookie is a testament to that!

Thank you, we’re trying! You’ve talked about how reading the work of several female authors of color—like Zora Neale Hurston, Maya Angelou, and Toni Morrison—helped you get to a place where you could “just be.” As you were reading them, did you feel like you were being seen?

I think the first one I was exposed to was Maya Angelou, in probably eighth- or ninth-grade English class, when we read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Being the only black student in class I was like, Oh god, we have to read this? I knew everybody was gonna look at me and think this was my experience. But then I read it, and I was like, Oh my god, this is my experience! It was powerful to read—specifically the parts where she talks about sexual abuse as a child. That was something that I had never told anyone I had gone through, so seeing that someone had written it down in a book that we were reading in class, I was like, Oh my god—this exists in the world?

So that was one of those things where I was like, I need to go to the library and read more books. Because I also didn’t have access to books, unless it was school. (I always talk about my youth struggle of never being able to order anything from the Scholastic catalog that was passed around in class, and always yearning for those books delivered to me the following week!) [Reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings] prompted me to get a library card and just sit among those stacks and read books by women who looked like my self-image. That was important to me, because [those women] lived the life that I saw myself living one day, as a black woman. In my own reality, that didn’t exist for me yet. I was this trans girl who wasn’t out, who wasn’t revealing herself to the world or even to herself. It was so helpful to be able to look into those books and be like, Wow, this is what life could be like for me.

But the top one would be Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. For me, that book was everything. The idea of this woman on a quest to find herself and to find the right kind of love and fulfillment and identity and not being smashed into her community’s fantasies of her—that gave me so much agency. It pushed me to dream of greater possibilities for myself. It just blasted my mind open! You can be free!

What were you like as a teenager?

By the time I turned 13, I had met my best friend, Wendi. When you have a pivotal bestie, you kind of become the same person but you also complement each other. Wendi was so unabashedly unapologetic about who she was that no matter what I did—even when I started transitioning—I could never seem as “out there” as her. I was always slightly in her shadow, which gave me safety. From 12 years old all the way until we were 18, we were like close close close tight. So when you ask me what I was like, I can’t talk about my teenage self without talking about Wendi, because we’re so linked.

But I was very internal, if that makes sense. I think I was a deeper thinker than my best friend was. I enjoyed the library. I enjoyed quiet space, because I didn’t have that at home. But I also wanted attention, right? I was always kind of seen as a natural leader—people listened to me, and what I said mattered. So I never felt as though I was dismissed.

I loved school, and I was someone that people would ask for style advice. I always seemed like I was with it. I wasn’t a popular girl, but people liked me. I wasn’t ever going to be the prettiest girl in school, because I was a girl that wasn’t even supposed to exist. But I hung out with the popular girls, and they were my friends, so that gave me access points. It was almost like I was tolerated because I had these cool friends. So I always felt like I was internal, but I bet a lot of people from high school would remember me. I felt like I was invisible, but I knew I wasn’t, because I was so visible.

I think that once you’re out of high school, you start to understand that the way people see you does not necessarily line up with how you see yourself.

Mm-hmm. I had this sense of like…oh my god, I was such a victim. But then I realized that I’d internalized what people think trans people go through in high school. Like, it was tough, but high school was tough for a lot of people! I’m sure that my multiple layers of identities that I inhabit made it more difficult, but to be honest, I enjoyed high school. I wanted to go every day.

It wasn’t my peers who gave me problems—it was mostly teachers who didn’t understand how I could thrive, how I could be so liked, how I could be in marching band and debate club, how I could be captain of the volleyball team and be elected a student leader and become a peer mediator. They didn’t understand how a trans girl could do all those things, so it’s almost like they didn’t want it to be true.

When I was in the eighth grade, me and Wendi started a petition to get the intermediate school to allow us to wear makeup. [Laughs] I didn’t include this in my book because it’s something I forgot, but other people remembered us going around with a clipboard and some notebook paper and getting people to sign a petition so that we could wear makeup. In my memory [Wendi and I] just walked into school wearing makeup. I don’t remember ever getting in trouble for wearing makeup. I was that student, though, that’s who I was. When I watch Election, I’m like, Oh, I was soooo Reese Witherspoon!

Related, the times I’ve seen you speaking on TV, you seem to have so much grace and poise. Where do you learn those things?

In the mirror!

Do you think [poise is] something you can learn, or do you just embody it?

[Laughs] I feel like because I’ve had to juggle so much, that there’s not much that bothers me. There are a lot of high-pressure things that are stressful—especially live TV appearances! They’re so stressful, no matter what. Even if it’s a “safe” environment with a host that you really like, it’s still super stressful. What grounds me in this idea of having “good composure” or being eloquent or graceful is over-preparedness. Over-preparing puts me at ease and allows me to be present when I’m there. I can control how I act, how I react, how my face looks, how I sit, and what comes out of my mouth, which allows me to appear as though I’m totally at ease. It call comes from just growing up, juggling a lot at home, family dynamics, my own struggles with identity—wanting to be great, you know? Daring for greatness. Juggling all of these things was the boot camp. But preparedness is what grounds me. Knowing your environments so you can expect them, and even knowing the failings of your culture. Like, if you’re going into a racist, capitalist, sexist corporate environment, and you know what it is and its failings, then you can know how to operate around it. You kinda seem like #unbothered.

What do you do when you are suffering, and how do you help your friends when they are suffering?

The space of suffering, I struggle with, because I’m part of a community that’s so steeped in trauma. A lot of people talk about trans women of color and the violence that we deal with. But when we’re together, we don’t talk about that. Because the world will remind us of that. We know that when we walk in the world, we are under attack. We understand that. And so when we get together, we wanna talk about Beyoncé and have a couple cocktails, you know? Hang out and just be. Just be happy. Being happy together builds our sisterhood, but it also builds our resolve and it’s just like, This is revolutionary for us to be in this world and its suffering and to deal with suffering, but be fucking happy, too. We don’t need to sit in it all the time, because we exist in it.

Do you keep inspirational Post-it notes around your workspace?

Well, I do have one that my boyfriend, Aaron…he was listening to an audiobook about the I Love Lucy show—it’s random, but he loves inside-Hollywood stories. The head writer who helped them create that juggernaut of a television show said the two things that matter in Hollywood are ownership and perception. So I have a Post-it note that says ownership + perception.

The work that I do, it really informs me. I want to own the content I make—I don’t want to just be a subject on someone else’s show. I want to be leading those conversations. “Perception” is the idea of definition–I can create the image of myself that I allow others to see. And I can maintain my boundaries in a public world.

Also, I have a sticker on my planner that says It’s your turn to change the world.

Speaking of, I read that you work with Youngist, a platform for young people to do citizen journalism and have an amplified voice in mainstream media. What do you do there?

I mostly just giving editorial advice, but I think it’s so important for any silenced group of people, like young people, to have their own platforms. Everyone loves to talk about millennials—I guess that’s you guys!—but it’s important to give them power to have their own voice. Everyone always asks me, “What advice would you give young people?” and I’m always like, young people know exactly what they wanna do! If they want advice from me, that young person will come to me, you know? They know their experiences. They know what they’re going through. They know who they are. And my job is not to talk down to them, or to give them some aspirational message. It’s just to let them know that they have all the power to determine their own lives, to define them, and to declare them.

Youngist takes the political and pop culture news and really gives [millennials’] take on it, instead of older people always being like, “The millennials are taking selfies! They’re so absorbed with themselves!” It’s like, uh, no, look on YouTube, look at what they’re doing.

It’s nice to hear you say that—those selfie articles are so make-fun-able.

It’s always like, some 50-year-old cisgender white hetero man talking about young girls and what they’re doing. It’s like, this is so pervy, first of all! [Laughs] It’s these people who think all young people are the same. No, they’re not! It’s really simplistic and reductive, and I think young people can just, like, grab their computers and blow shit up. ♦

A fantastic and very informative essay helping to clarify gender

Constance, I think the biggest obstacle between most people and acceptance of the multiple gender expressions in our world, is ignorance.

Ignorance.

So, the most effective way to eradicate that obstacle is education.  In that spirit I offer yet another reblog of a post that does a great job providing such education.  As technology has advanced, the nuances of our universe are increasingly revealed…they have always been there.  We have defined things by what we see, what we know…it is only natural to do this.

So…I pray that your eyes would be enlightened and your horizons expanded by the following post.

Love, Charissa

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Intersex: What is It, and What It Means for Sexuality

Intersex: What is It, and What It Means for Sexuality

If some people are born neither male nor female, what does that say about our traditional views of sex and gender, and as these individuals will grow up to have sexual orientations, how can those orientations be defined? These are the questions asked by Michael Passaro in an essay which explores the possibility for a labeling system which validates and makes visible intersex individuals.

Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking about the gender and sexuality spectrum. I’ve discussed many things, from how we can and should define bisexuality, to whether sexual orientation should be a special class from other attractions. I will most likely do separate posts on each of these but one of the topics which interests me most is that of biological sex. What is sex? What are its defining characteristics? And how does it intersect with our many other characteristics and identities?

Lets start with the very basic. What is sex? Seems obvious to most. Sex is being male or female. Right? Well, yes. But maybe no. At least we can say that this is the widely understood use of the word. Let’s note that sex is not to be confused with gender. Gender is the social construct of categories of people and the behaviors and ways people are supposed to feel and relate to those categories/behaviors. But let’s explore a little bit into what it means to have a sex.

I suppose the simplest way to do this is to ask how do we know what sex you are? This is determined at birth by a doctor and is dependent on your developed sex organs. If you have a penis and testes you are male. If not, female. Simple right? We run into problem with this system when we encounter infants born with differences in their sex organs’ development so that they don’t really have a penis or a vagina or a clitoris. So which sex are these people? Well, doctors have decided in the past that they should be altered to fit into a binary system that cannot represent the form of the child.

As you can imagine, this worked for a time but soon came under scrutiny. People were slipping through the cracks. Because most of the children who were operated on were made into ‘girls’ these cracks were pushed open when people started to experience problems related to men’s health. This combined with the growing science around DNA moved sex’s definition to determined more by the the chromosomes contained within your cells.

This has led to even more interesting areas of what it means to be male or female. Almost everyone knows by the 7th grade that a female has two X chromosomes and a male has one X chromosome and one Y chromosome. However like all things in life, things aren’t this simple. There are many variations that can occur. There are people who only have one X chromosome. People who are XXY or XYY. There are XXX people and there are XXY people. What do we make of these? If DNA is the defining factor and there are so many different possibilities why do we only have 2 sexes?

Science has created a circular loop. We look at your physical characteristics at birth, and if needed we look at your DNA, but if your DNA isn’t fitting into the XX or XY categories we then look at your physical development again.

I, and many others, propose that there is a false sense of security in there being only two sexes. Anne Fausto-Sterling, a professor in biology and gender studies at Brown University, put forward that there could be as many as 5 different sex classifications (in a thought experiment). There is growing recognition in the scientific field that intersex is a legitimate claim against a binary understanding of sex. Germany and Australia have officially recognized that sex may not necessarily be only male and female. Australia allows for a sex “X” and Germany allows for children to be born with an indeterminate sex (to be determined at a later time).

There are many issues to deal with for intersex individuals. Issues of gender, issues of recognition, issues of bodily integrity and many more. All of these are best addressed by those who are directly affected by such things. So I would like to look at what this means for the rest of us who are (think we are) conventionally sexed. What does this mean for our understanding of sexuality?

The most glaring complication is what this means for our understanding of sexual orientation. In general sexual orientations are in relation to one’s self and the object of desire. Namely, if they are your sex, or the ‘opposite’. This is complicated when we talk about sexual orientation in terms of gender instead of sex but let’s focus on sex. Because now we do not have a binary what does it mean to be ‘heterosexual’? What is the opposite of male? What is the opposite of intersex? This is further complicated dependent on the number of sexes we allow. Can only some people be heterosexual then?

A further complexity arises when we look at what it means to be bi/pansexual. Again, operating under the assumption of sex as the object of sexual orientation, bisexual and pansexuality are the same (because traditionally there is only two sexes). However with the introduction of intersex this changes. Do we then interpret bisexual to mean two sexes? Do we adopt the view of many bisexual activists and say its attraction to one’s own sex and others? Maybe this would depend too on how many sexes we deem there to be.

Lets assume there are 3 (male, female, and intersex). Is a bisexual person still the same as a pansexual one? A person who is attracted to their own sex and others? Or is it a person attracted to two sexes? Many people might say the latter. To those I raise this question: Suppose I am a male, and I am attracted to females, and attracted to intersex individuals. BUT let us also say that I am only attracted to intersex people who resemble females. What is my sexual orientation? I seem to be bisexual. Because technically I am attracted to two sexes. However, am I really attracted to intersex people or am I actually attracted to their female-ness? It seems inaccurate to say that I am attracted to intersex people as a whole because its really only some.

This seems to justify breaking sex down further than only 3 sexes. Lets say we adopt the 5 sex system put forward by Fausto-Sterling (or even more sexes). Now how do we deal with the bi/pansexuality issue? Does/should bisexuality apply to those who are attracted to 2, 3, 4 sexes (and on and on)? Or ought we have trisexuals, quadsexuals, etc.? I’m not sure.

For clarity’s sake maybe classification ought be specific to the number of sexes you are attracted to. But is it the same for a male to be attracted to a female and a male as it is for a female to be attracted to females and female-presenting intersex? I’m not sure. Maybe we ought overhaul our entire classification system? Maybe the number is not the important bit but the specific sexes we are attracted to. Is it better to have a more complicated but also more comprehensive/accurate system?

Its clear that the system that we have doesn’t work. We can’t decide how to determine sex, let alone tell how many there are. The current binary places people into tiny boxes and clearly others many. It has been used to justify altering infants bodies unnecessarily, not only dangerous for the child then but then altering their entire life (forcing them to take hormones and still have the risk of medical complications later). As for sexual orientations – as a classification system we need to make a judgment call as to what it is that is important. Is the defining characteristic the number of sexes your attracted to? Or is the sex of the person important? If all we want is simplicity then clearly numbers is the way to go but I would question the value of a classification system that doesn’t accurately reflect the diversity that exists.

Read more about sexuality here.

This essay was originally published at Issues of Humanity. Republished with Permission. Image via Shutterstock.

Love, in a sexual world.

Constance…I am finally ready to write about love and sex.

Yep…if you are offended by the mere mention of such things, you should probably skip this post.  I knew a lot of christian folk who actually thought sex was a nuisance at best, and dangerously distasteful at worst.  Somehow, someway, one of the most incredible processes They created, if not THE most incredible act of all time, became “dirty”, “shameful”, and downright distracting.

Here is a pretty accurate rod of discernment:  if something is simultaneously hated and feared and attacked by christians in general while being venerated, exaggerated and obsessed with by the world at large, the odds are very good that we are seeing the polluting of something originally designed to be a high and awesome thing.

Now…I want to be totally clear:  I do firmly believe that the highest and best expression of sexual union is in a monogamous relationship where the partners are committed for life.  I truly believe that when two people make love, there is a transaction emotionally, mentally, and spiritually that melds them together in some unique and irreproducible way.  There is a joining, a union that is one that should make us feel a hushed awe that such a thing could occur:  that I am still in a separate and distinct body from my beloved, and yet something of her somehow someway has melded in me!!  I also believe that They created sex for far more than mere procreation.  There are deep and mystical truths that await the lovers who commit to travelling down Love’s Road of Sacrifice.  They made it pleasant, fun, enjoyable.  They hooked up our brain chemistry to change in reaction to sexual activity, they hooked up our hearts to immediately think love in association with sex.  I do not believe it is sinful to talk of sex anymore than it is to talk of cows:  the sinfulness enters in through how we talk about either thing.

Growing up, of course I experienced sexual feelings, although they were sometimes pretty confusing for me, and I even had a few girlfriends with whom I was physical and made out…didn’t go “all the way”, but too far down the way, in hindsight.  But I was by no means a sex-driven person, and I was flummoxed in the locker room listening to the guys talk about sex in ways that I didn’t even know of, let alone enter my mind!

I met my darling, and I was so incredibly blessed to find a genuine lover of God who matched up with the principles I held.  We married, and our marriage was a wonderland for us each.  We were hungry for one another with love’s appetite, and sexuality was like our spoon to feed each other.  I cannot recall even one time when either of us denied the other if they needed the release, the comfort, or just the very humorous amazing wonder that making love is!

During the time we were growing up, sexuality and its expression in our culture changed dramatically.  There were a lot of oppressions, a lot of things wrong, and in the effort to get free of those things, things got unmoored…and drifted out to sea…until, we are where we are now.

(Remember Constance, this is not a rant against sex! lol)

Venereal diseases are on the rise, and harder to cure.  Unwanted pregnancies result in brokenness and or death.  Hearts, spirits and psyches are fractured regularly.

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And now…young people don’t even have the thrill of dating anymore, but instead “hook-up”.

Porn is virtually everywhere (I actually literally mean virtually).  Any of you could stop reading here, go to google, type one word and BAM!  Whatever you would imagine is most likely just a click away.  It’s so different than a generation ago, when there was little accessibility and virtually no anonymity.

Throw in all the issues of becoming as a human being, growing up and developing, wrestling with our separation and alienation bred by the brokenness of this world, throw in gender issues, or existential issues, or grudges against God due to the foolish and hateful activity of people taking the Father’s good Name in vain…and you have a real witches brew which is such a draught as to poison anyone.

But…….

….maybe……

…………………..just maybe……

we might reach a tipping point the other way.  Let me explain.

When I was in college, I worked in the KMART deli, and scooped ice cream.  I was allowed to eat as much as I wanted.  And after about 10 days, I did not eat ice cream until I had been away from that job a good 2 months!!  It was so common, so pervasive, that I was hungry for something different!

I am hoping that something similar would happen to us culturally.  How many different pictures can there be of a woman’s body, of a man’s body, and of the finite number of ways those biological organisms can combine?  Surely it gets boring eventually?  Surely there is the cry rising in the heart, “There must be MORE than this!”?  Surely there is an acknowledgement of the increasingly fractured essence we see in so many these days?

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Constance, I would gently propose that even some of you have wounds, scars and terrible memories and burdens that were a result of sexual experience that was not of the highest and best?

But here is one of the core things I wanted to get to:  as my transition progresses, my libido has fallen way off, and I want to tell you:  it has not made one bit of difference in our relationship!  We were soo fortunate in that our foundation was first, last, and always love.  I feel a closeness and intimacy and adoration for my baby such as I have never known could go so deep, and climb so high.

It is as if the very best aspects of sexuality have been distilled down and filtered out, and we can drink the “essence of Union”.

If either of us wanted, we would do our dead level best to satisfy the other…but we are both deeply contented and flourishing in love.

The message in the culture these days is that this is a state of affairs which ought to be corrected!  If you aren’t having sex and lots of it all the time you just ain’t with it, according to that message.  And if you are like me…sob…you are to be pitied deeply!  “Poor thing!  Get some Viagra, some Cialis …get a new car and new clothes and a new sexual partner!”

I rejoice that I have been given such a tremendous gift…the most amazing person anyone could want…and also the gift of my gender sorting taking place in a context completely free of sexuality or sexual desire.  It lends a clarity and depth of insight which would otherwise be covered up.

Here is a gentle nudge:  clear your mind and heart of the constant clamoring regarding sex.  Once clear, set it on higher things, like love, joy patience, peace and pursue serving some other person with your life, with no expectation or requirement of payment.

You will be amazed at how things change…

 

With tender care and love,

Charissa

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Spitting Bones

I remember the bones…smooth
with the thick patina of reverence and religion.
Pushed thru the bars of my crib, one by one,
proffered by priests and priestesses
frantic in the grip of their god.
Their god of two faces, only two…
and bones, always endless bones.
I cried fearful and turned away from
the face their god thrust into mine,
wrathful and hungry to eat me,
and spit me out as bones.

I remember the birth of days, endless continuum
of spitting bones (they fed) forced into my heart
by fingers of dread and violation.
Their food was wormwood, was fungal,
was necrotic and charnel charcuterie,
it was bones thrown, divining that
never-never-land, that future of failure
and folly-laced affliction offered
as communion that roundabout me
all partook of, eating the body and drinking the blood
of a god breaking them all for itself!
Wretch that I was, east of Eden and hungry,
alone and spitting bones.

But the days when my cradle concealed
only an ash heap desolate and bleak in the wind,
and the nights where my bars branded themselves
into my soul to make me their always-prisoner,
began to be cracked by winds, by tremors, by thunders
and by storms, always storms railing,
leaving me soaked to my bones
and raw from my bars,
but slick and wet, ready for birth.

And even as I had spit the bones of that god
bitter from my velvet mouth, I reached,
and gripped hard, and wrenched in desperate anguish
until at last those sharp teeth
(that hungry god’s unwisdom teeth)…
those brands burnt sizzling into my heart tore loose!
Bloody and gore spattered, glistening
with dread power draining, diminishing.
I welled up my outrage, my despair,
my affliction and conjured from them
alchemal ancient power and found my niche,
found my mission spitting bones!

And now?
I sit on downy green mounds,
on high hills become mountains!
I forage in fields of gold, omnivore
and gleaning food from gods forgotten,
gods ignored, from Grace Herself
Who is bounty and variegated victory!
And I eat, freely, with no fear or terror
of the old god who died and cannot rise again!
I draw strength from the meat of complicated cuts
that must be cured and marinated and braised off
until they loose their grip on gore and their poison is annulled.
For all my days, I will be one who can consume all things
and grow to grace others and thrive,

eating the food… and spitting bones.Luna

My Heart of Hearts

The dawn, peach fuzz on this dripping peachy day,
smelled like juice dribbling down my chin,
and musky yellow perfume.

Your earrings flashed in the sunbeam sneaking thru the blinds
Your eyes flashed, lamplights of love sneaking thru my blind
and gleaming like that cat Cheshire.

I intended to rip my heart from my chest
but it came free eager in my hand
which was covered by yours (I had not noticed that happen)
tumblr_mqtuqw1Evm1rwuj4qo1_500Fell from me like that peach
with groaning, heavy relief and ache
into your waiting basket (I was the only one there)

You carried me to bed, and there we sectioned our fruit
and fed each other with fingers, slick and sticky
and smelling of the peachy summer day

And we drowsed, and woke to find our hearts grown again,
except mine was now you, and yours was now me
Oh my Heart of Hearts, My Heart of Hearts.tumblr_mbyc264X6q1qllucco1_1280

My Heart of Hearts (sans images)

The dawn, peach fuzz on this dripping peachy day,
smelled like juice dribbling down my chin,
and musky yellow perfume.

Your earrings flashed in the sunbeam sneaking thru the blinds
Your eyes flashed, lamplights of love sneaking thru my blind
and gleaming like that cat Cheshire.

I intended to rip my heart from my chest
but it came free eager in my hand
which was covered by yours (I had not noticed that happen)

Fell from me like that peach
with groaning, heavy relief and ache
into your waiting basket (I was the only one there)

You carried me to bed, and there we sectioned our fruit
and fed each other with fingers, slick and sticky
and smelling of the peachy summer day

And we drowsed, and woke to find our hearts grown again,
except mine was now you, and yours was now me
Oh my Heart of Hearts, My Heart of Hearts.

Harvest Dream

Last night we had a rain storm
to beat the band…wind blowing hard,
rainy fat little lakes of water
hurtling along and surfing the windy currents.
The air was wild and electric, fresh.
We left the bar and walked.
We were stirred up and feeling wild.
She was practically vibrating
with desire and pent up energy,
and wanting to be wild,
so I drove us to the vineyard

…late…

and among the groaning
vines fat with fruit
we took off our shoes and clothes
and let the weather drench us
with its furious grip!
The grass was tall between the rows,
the dirt sodden around the vines,
and there we ran,
and tackled each other,
completely stark naked!!
Down to the earth we fell,
again and again,
rolling and kissing…

and everything.tumblr_n284i9tGMN1qj9ytzo1_500

Later, we sprinted to the winery,
and rummaged for extra clothes, towels,
and a coffee maker and fridge in the crush.
We dried each other off and
put on some warm clothes
and then let our others dry
while we had coffee,
and then beer.
The space heater toasted us up,
until we were warm enough
to go to the cellar…

in the ground, in her womb,
the smell of yeast pungent
like the smell of us.
I grabbed a couple bottles
and a wine key (to heaven),
she carried lots of blankets and candles.
We went to the deepest quietest place,
back in the corner and had…

Communion…

I the bread and she the wine.
If I am dreaming,
never wake me,
for it is bliss.tumblr_n29vrxYJQR1risr9ko1_1280

 

 

Outcast by Acceptance

Skuttery winds were
huffing our hurt like
kids in the alley
behind the bar.

We trudged along over landscapes,
seascapes white and
grey and smudged and
our eyes were dulled
by unrelenting blur of
borders and divisions,
demarcations between
heaven and earth.

We were the Consigned Ones,
those policed and othered and
cast into chains
feigning freedom.
We were the Dispossessed Daughters
outcast by Acceptance,
cloaked in bleak black bindings
and hooded with the words of those
swaggering and unconscious creatures.
We toiled
slow between life
and the null.

My fire seethed,
I burned indignant and slow,
until I wanted
a flare to become and ignite
into blazing truth
the scope and shape
of that prison!
I seized my moment
and took pilgrimage
to that high ground
waiting for me, for us all.
And there
I lit my signal,
I lit my heart, and
sought to immolate
the Lie.tumblr_n3nqv6yUiz1r7d4coo1_500

 

My Heart Dares

My high hills have heaved into mountains!
They’re muscling and bunching with glory
and streaming my Star-Ribbon story.

Hills of want, hills of pining and yearning
were worn down by storm torrents and winds,
became mounds, became cairns to lost futures
for this poor girl born so out of time
and so life-lorn and null in her place.

But up! They have been drawn, been pushed,
been called clarion and clear, brassy-broad,
with fresh timeless bright voice, they have answered,
and begun to grow high right before me,
in my solemn amazed wide eyed presence.

And my heart dares to become a mountain!
Thrusting boldly through stained steely clouds,
into blaze, into dithery-dazzle,
into light and life, cold and warm sun,
and they thrive midst glad gales of good Portent!
Noble sigils and icons of trust,
And I let my glad self stand and live!

Thus I sing to the Dwellers in Shinar
lift your heads, lift your eyes, lift your hearts
Take you hope, take ye courage and comfort,
Grace and Peace be your portion,

Amen.tumblr_n389xmQuD21qft4nwo1_1280

Vignettes from the outlet mall

she was talking, allowing her voice to carry.

“She is a loud, obnoxious froward woman!”

she was quiet, moving from rack to rack, circumspect and quick inside.

“She is an icy haughty bitch, too good to talk to us!”

she dressed with pizazz and showed a bit of skin with skillful concealment.

“She is a slut and slingin’ it around, the little prick tease!”

she dressed modestly, clothes fig leaves concealing naked limbs.

“She is such a shovel face, plain patty and doesn’t give a crap about how she looks!”

she smiled at his compliment.

“She wants you, dawg!!”

she shot him a dirty look and told him to back off.

“She is such a c***! Can’t she just accept the attention and be grateful!?”

Sadly, all of those incantation,
spoken to control and other
came from both
male and female hearts,
brains turned off
and lights inside
darker than death’s own heart.

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Underneath the Surface

Will you look?
There, beneath
grey quicksilver waves…
Under brown boulders
lashed by billows and tides
Wreathed in seaweed strands
of surface stuff that clings
and grasps and changes
ever in riptides and caustic currents.

Will you look?
There, I am sitting
small, quietly azul and shimmering
Circumspect in flowing thoughts
Piled up like surf
queuing to rush the beach
and show themselves
in my limpid eyes,
my  starry smiles,
my liquid laughter.

Will you choose
to grant me freedom
by limiting yours freely?
Then join me, and fly
Underneath the Surface.

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Freedom Face

Attacking the barrier with faces,
we dent, crack, and bust it.
We see from our side
Progress! Advancement, baby steps.
Them? We are
Cracked, obscured, broken
Forgotten…
But the cracks run ragged, the breaks flow deeper,
and freedom’s whisper is strong
and Insistent.

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A Delightful Child’s solution to homophobia, reposting a wonderful article

Post image for Maddie Matters: A Six-Year-Old Solves The Gay Acceptance Riddle

Maddie Matters: A Six-Year-Old Solves The Gay Acceptance Riddle

by JEAN ANN ESSELINK onFEBRUARY 11, 2014

in ASIDES,JEAN ANN ESSELINK,NEWS

My six-year-old granddaughter Madison – Maddie to her friends – is a regular one-kid think tank. She knows “gay” means girls loving girls and boys loving boys, and while she really has no concept of the “why”, she knows there are places in the world where gay people are not accepted, and people in the world who do them violence. That’s why Nana – me – writes for The New Civil Rights Movement.

Last Saturday, I was working on Sunday’sOn Our Radar column about the “Olymbians” who are competing in Sochi, and to keep her occupied, I had Maddie help me choose their photos. Before long, she began wondering aloud how anyone could be less than awestruck by these amazing women – and for the first time she began thinking about the concept of being gay.

The conversation went like this:

Maddie: (Talking about David Badash, founder of The New Civil Rights Movement.) Does your boss know I’m not gay?
Me: It really hasn’t come up.
Maddie: Am I gay?
Me: No one can answer that for someone else. It’s like asking me if you’re hungry or sleepy.
Maddie: Is there anything else you can be? Besides regular or gay?
Me: It’s called straight, not regular. And if you are thinking about Mario and Luigi or the Monster High kids, there is no “attracted to cartoon people” category at this time.
Maddie: So just the two?
Me: Well, there’s bisexual. That’s people who are attracted to both men and women, they just fall in love with a person because of who they are on the inside.
Maddie: (Thinks about this with a scrunched up face.) Do people know about bisexual? Because if we all just say we’re bisexual no one will care who you love.
Me: An excellent plan, Maddie. I think that could work.
Maddie: You should tell your boss. He could put it on his website so Russia will know what we’re doing.

So I did. And here it is, Maddie’s childlike solution to homophobia on our grownup gay website. If only I could make her dream come true….

tncrmJean Ann Esselink is a straight friend to the gay community. Proud and loud Liberal. Closet writer of political fiction. Black sheep agnostic Democrat from a conservative Catholic family. Living in Northern Oakland County Michigan with Puck the Wonder Beagle.

Visionary

She laughed as she thought about that
sideways thinker,
or was he just hungry,
the one who first thought to look past shells
and the smell of seafood…
limpets, mussels, clams, shrimp, snails,
oysters (omg shudder shiver).

Desperate, or bored?
Interested or Inspired?

No matter…what a world he opened up, what a
feast of delicate and wondrous
flavors, aromas, delights.

I lick my fingers,
and suck butter out of my
garlic escargot, and ask Lady Grace
to give me courage to look
past shells, smells, false tells,
with no fear and great inspiration
to find true treasure in everyone I meet
drawn up from
God’s Great Sea.

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On the Outing and resulting suicide of a transwoman, and the aftermath

Are you aware of the recent outing of a trans-woman by the blog Grantland?  It is a heartbreaking story to all of us who share humanity, as there was yet another life laid on the altar of the yawning maw of the false gods of trans-phobia and hate…and it is a tragic and gut-wrenching story to trans-humans everywhere…countless other blogs have written in detail about it, but I want to give my thoughts and reactions to this thing.

First of all, just google the Story of Dr. V, or Inventor of magical putter…go to Grantland.com and look for the archives and it is easily found…you can read the original story and if you are cis, you will have one reaction to the story…but this was my reaction:

Here is someone like me in terms of the volcano of hurt and despair and desperation and ultimately hopelessness that happens within someone who has woken up in the wrong body and has to serve a life sentence.  She had to try to cope, and then when she (like me) discovered that something can actually be done about it, there is indeed a trapdoor through which one can slip out of jail, but also that the hounds will trail, will bay and howl and sniff…

…so she took her courage in hand, pulled the rip chord, and then did her best to stay escaped, walking in the waters to hide her scent from the dogs, walking on the rocks so as not to leave tracks, striving to leave behind her past…not because she is ashamed of who she was!!!  But rather because if the hounds and jailers found out who she was THEY would make her present a paradigm of shame and loathing and she would be then seen as a freak, and worse.

Alas, life.  Life happens to we humans, regardless of gender.  All humans have made mistakes, all humans have told lies, all humans have presented themselves outwardly to others differently than who they truly are inside.  All humans have endeavored to present themselves truly, and then perceived falsely and thus been labeled liars or worse.  For the cis world, wrapped in the legacy gifted to them by their gender “normalcy”, there is compassion for the wrongly accused, there is mercy to the fallen, and ultimately, for the ones who intentionally deceive for sordid gain there is pity and the sop of correction via the penitentiary system.

But if you are also a transgender human, suddenly you find a level of malevolence added to all of the above, a sense of de-legitimacy is bound round about you…what might be a simple failure of life common and possible for anyone to stumble in instantly becomes a deviant and diabolical plot to deceive and defile.  And for some reason or another, the fear that someone might actually bond with a transgender person and like them engenders so much loathing that the justified reaction to that is to destroy them violently (and usually with extreme malice…this is factually the case nearly always: dismemberment, the complete basing in of the face and head, and worse)…

…and then there is the “compassionate reaction”:  simply shame them, rain down ridicule and hatred with such unrelenting force that they kill themselves!  Perfect solution!  Make the trans human do your dirty work for you, so you can sit with Pilate and clean hands looking on.

This poor woman transitioned, and then, only she knows what she did and more importantly why she did it…she falsified credentials and history, and then created a brilliant new golf club that many people liked very much.

Along came a young and curious cis-gender male, wrapped without knowing he was, in all his priveleged splendour!  Eager to practice all he had been taught in becoming a journalist, he did his best investigative reporter schtick and began to try to do a feature story on this club and its creator…and in the process, thanks to his talent and skill that lay tragically uninformed by wisdom or education, he realized that things were not adding up.

I will let you read for yourselves the resulting conclusion he came to and what he did with it.  But let me just say this:  if you google transgender, and scratch even a shallow ways beneath the sensational and porn polluted links that form the cartoonish and lewd popular image of trans-people, you can find pages and pages of well written, calm, scientific explanation of a real condition that falsifies the binary and woefully insufficient definition of the gender experience of human beings. You will find story after story of men and women who very successfully and morally transitioned to their proper body orientation thanks to modern medicine, and have gone on to live fruitful and contributing lives in a wide variety of ways.  You will find that gender variance is more common than many birth defects that are accepted as nearly instantly correctable.  And you will find that new and enlightened views on gender do not assume that variance is a result of a defect at all!

It is actually quite encouraging, interesting, fascinating even.

You will find that other cultures and other times have actually been light years ahead of us, having far more enlightened and merciful views on these things.

And you will also find tragic stories that read so similar to any tale of the desperate and cruel measures taken by people of privilege when that privilege is threatened and on the wane.  The same tactics of othering and then destroying.

This can be done in a matter of days…and for an important article such as the one that this author aspired to produce, it seems obvious in hindsight that such research should have been done.  Consulting with other transgender people and asking them how they see the issue before anything else is done would seem obvious.

But not only was this not done…it was not even THOUGHT OF!  Gawd…it never even occurred to the author, or the editors of the sight.

The transwoman begged them to not go forward with things…and they heard the pleas of a con artist found out, instead of an escapee from gender prison who felt the hot breath of the hounds on her heels.

I felt her fear…I felt her horror…I felt her terror…I felt her despair…and at last, I felt her death, and it rocked me back, it frightened me and terrified me.  I cried most of the day after I read it, for with the wrong step, the wrong word, that could be me, and the walls come tumbling down onto me, destroying my life as I know it.  I plan to leave this life behind…but in due season and time, like a child leaves the womb at the right time.

MY GENDER IDENTITY IS MINE TO REVEAL AS I CHOOSE, WHEN I CHOOSE, and HOW I CHOOSE!

The thought of some stranger coming into my life, prying, asking questions, and making threats chills me.

Bill Simmons wrote a well intentioned apology, and it was pretty good for one soused in ignorance.  I can only hope that he is haunted by knowing that indirectly her blood is on his hands…and maybe he can be motivated to educate himself on these issues and allow his consciousness to be raised.  Think of what could happen if he allowed transgender contributors to educate, inform, and then ultimately just join in the conversation and judged only on the content of their ideas and not on the label put on them gender-wise.

In conclusion…a word of thanks you you my followers, for I have been received as me…without exception!  Many of you have written me the kindest little notes that have encouraged me to keep on writing.

“Oh Humans…we have been shown what is good, what is required of us…it is simple and short:

Do Justly.

Love Mercy.

Walk Humbly.

Love one another, forgive, and be kind.”

that’s it.

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ROTFLMAO!!!

LOVE this post…it made me giggle so hard I snurfed my coffee outta my nose!

 

man i wish homophobic people were actually AFRAID of gay people like could you imagine having the power to strike fear in peoples hearts with your homo…”If I do not have one trazillion dollars on my doorstep by noon tomorrow, I swear I will KISS THIS WOMAN on the MOUTH in front of your children.”

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Velvet River

ALERT!  ALERT!

The following poem is of a sensually charged nature…if you are one who loves to take up offense and carry it like a badge of honor, if you are easily inflamed by the actions and words of others that you disagree with and then choose to be offended over, then you need to skip this post.

It is about desire, about connection, about the wondrous and primal physical analogue to the mysterious spiritual ecstasies that are woven into the warp and weft of our being human.  After all…we are spiritual beings who are having a physical experience, and yet we are also physical beings who are having a spiritual experience too (otherwise, what is the point of a physical resurrection???  Hmmm????

Anyway, I am not hiding on this blog, and I am going to share.  Look away if you are afraid, and read if you dare.

Velvet River

Darkness grips
with velvet claws and fastens
Fat and swollen
all around the bed…but soft
and welcome.

The darkness of becoming.
The unbecoming darkness.
The one at whose door
evil darkness can
only scratch in
frustration, shut out.

The darkness of a womb waiting.
The darkness of a room…
bed waiting…body aching…
The darkness of the moon,
watching
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Then you come,
sliding and gliding
hat low over
one steely glinty eye
behind which hides
a wide and glowy winking eye
merrily seeking me.

your tie askew,
your blouse undone
I lay in the darkness…
in the grip of velvet claws
Fat and swollen…echoing
my fat and swollen river banks

And the velvet river
wakes and stirs.

you sit
on the bed
and touch my legs
with that eye,
that glance,
that want.
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And the river runs
velvet and soft
and your
touch is plush
your tongue my hero,
my champion.

sounds in the darkness
cannot be heard elsewhere
and i groan and moan
with longing and desire

and then
we plunge
into the river
and breathe
underwater
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On the Shore

On the Shore

Brrr…I am a lil skert, starting this blog.  It is the very first baby step towards being out as who I really am, the me that I was born to…I am frightened, and yet so excited all at once.  I love this picture, because it shows how I have always been…gazing out, yearning, standing off to the side, there but not there…and I like that there are 3 women down in the shelter.  They represent my core support…bless you ladies who love me with your hearts!

And I love that we are all surfers in this pic…waves are toys and funland rides to surfers, skimming along on stormy waters and dancing.

I have no idea where I will be in 3 months, in a year.  I have no idea who will be in my life besides the ones who are with me, and who will be out of my life.

May God give me grace to welcome all in, and never shut any out, and then I can have peace, knowing that I have lived in integrity and shalom, and that I am literally not responsible for the choices of others.

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