My Honest and True Assumption

Constance, let’s face facts.

This woman is never going to be seen by the eyes of this paradigm.  It ain’t gonna happen.  Too many layers of judgment, too much weight of assumption, and not enough understanding of the nature of gender orientation and where it resides in a human being.tumblr_nkbhxsERto1qccjsuo1_1280I am never going to be “pretty” in the sense of how human eyes grown in the world in which I live perceive beauty.  My only possibilities for beauty lie within my soul…in my heart…in my spirit…in that inner life that my spirituality and theology teach me is the truest reality anyway and the only one that extends eternally.

Mama, please give me a hunger for true things that outweighs the longings that plague me, that cry out from each and every chromosome that finds itself at odds with the spiritual DNA that flows from (what, my brain?  My soul?  My heart?) me…

I close with this quote I ran across, and make it my goal…kindness, good humored, smart, and strong of heart.

We get so worried about being pretty. Let’s be pretty kind. Pretty funny. Pretty smart. Pretty strong.” tumblr_nkakqbLCV81r7huino1_500

Another Day of Insults, but…

…thank God for the director at the center where I volunteer!  She knows what the right thing to do and say is!

So…there was this “specimen” who came to the center today.  I know him, and he “knew” me…and did not even come close to recognizing who I was.  I was dressed in a very nice American Eagle plaid shirt, soft pink, flannel, and a tie-die spink broomstick skirt, with a black t-shirt top and pink jewelry.

I looked nice.

But as I walked by, I felt his eyes, I felt his derision.  I was in his vicinity less than 5 seconds, and yet for some reason he was compelled to refer to me to my director as “a dude in a dress”…

…as in “what’s with the dude in the dress”…

My director simply said “She wanted to wear a dress today”.  When he sought to contradict that and reiterate his insult, she stopped him, and repeated herself…and then a third time!

I was soo blessed by that, what she did.  She did not try to go into any explanation, she did not differentiate me in any way whatsoever.  She simply cut him off, and told him that I wanted to wear that pretty dress today.

I don’t know which was stronger…the resignation and sadness over another insult by another privileged boy, or the gladness and genuine admiration for this strong and steady soul who sees something worthy in me and lays it out straight to anyone who comes around.

I think I will go with the latter…

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.
Charissa Grace

tumblr_nkczrtVz8S1qefrmxo1_1280

North Carolina mom believes bullying led to transgender teen’s suicide – LGBTQ Nation

North Carolina mom believes bullying led to transgender teen’s suicide – LGBTQ Nation.

Constance…ears are deaf to our pleas…another one has gone over the precipice of despair.

This area is the same one where some of my own dementors hail from, those truly baffling souls so full of hate that they are compelled to speak spite and make sure that they attempt to infuse my heart with that poison…oh yeah, cus they love me so much.

I am deeply saddened but not one bit surprised that this poor dear despaired in such a caustic and hateful atmosphere as this.

Ima keep on posting these things…you cannot pretend it doesn’t happen.  You cannot pretend that reading here is the same as supporting a transgender person.  If you read here but do nothing, you are like the rich person who walks the streets in -20 degrees below zero and tells the ones who freeze in their nakedness “be warm, be warm.”

Listen:  it is not going to stop until you get you up out of your ease and privilege and stand with me!  With us!  In your community…and yeah, you will lose face and reputation and may be called a name or two…quel horreur!

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.
Charissa Grace

http://www.wsoctv.com/videos/news/mother-believes-bullying-led-to-transgender-teens/vDH8L9/

Can you stop killing us for just one week?

Jan 1st to Feb 22nd 2015 one Transgender person is being murdered every 29 hours. | Planet Transgender.

Constance…did you realize this?

I invite you to consider this request.

Being called he/she, and having it justified by a spiritual comment, well it smacks a bit of feeling like getting groomed for other, deeper transgressions.

It is a true reality that I could get murdered, just for walking transgender.

As long as you cis people read and feel all bad and stuff, and then see what’s on tv, we will keep being killed.  No one will stop killing us until they are forced to stop…a bit like the police force and their wanton slaughter of young black men.

Please…we really are not doing anything to you.  Just let us live.

The Last Week of February is Worldwide

He/She…

…I was called this today. It wasn’t malicious in intent…but it was vicious in result.  Apparently this person had referred to me that way behind my back and felt guilty about it. So they confessed to me today…

The reason given?  Apparently they say that they “see Jesus in me so much that I am a “he” to the person. 

Hmmmmm. I wonder if she calls Beth Moore a he/she? Or any other woman leader in church?  There are a ton of cis-women far more full of Jesus than I.

But even more, I wonder: why even say that? Like it is so deadening, so numbing. And I feel empty inside already.

Thanks, person. You really must be lightened in your conscience, confession made straight to my face and words used 3 times in explaining why it’s okay.

But hey why should I care? I am dead so big deal. 

Honestly, sometimes I wish I were. So many lives would have so much less to deal with.tumblr_mwe8yxcZhZ1rouua1o6_1280

BU researchers find biological basis for transgender identity — The Daily Free Press

BU researchers find biological basis for transgender identity — The Daily Free Press.

Constance, we are slowly discovering the biology that underlays gender orientation.  This is a process inevitable, and limited only by the edge of technological advancement.

Most importantly, it is the same curve of advancement that has existed for other things that were once considered evil, the results of demons, etc. and are now seen as the reality they have always been.

In a generation or two, we will look back on those who thing that gender variance is a moral evil, failure or choice as the beknighted ignoramuses that they in fact truly are.  They will be in the same drawer of history that contains those who opposed the civil rights movement, those who owned slaves and used the Bible to justify it, those who thought that epileptics were possessed by demons rather than simply the denizens inside a chemically unbalanced brain.

I have tried and tried and tried, over and over, to show you in everyway possible and all the ways you judge yourself and your own righteousness that my gender orientation does not impute to me any greater or lesser moral evil!  Because it is not a matter of inherent morality!  Anymore than your own gender adds any sort of moral texture to your own spirituality!

Isaiah 58 comes to mind as a pretty good list of things that would actually be far more pleasing to God than writing letters to people that boast about rivers that you will not cross or that conflate your own sexual proclivities and addictions with my gender orientation!

Directly speaking, I strongly exhort you to have the faith of your convictions and humble yourself and simply love.  Cross rivers.  Swim oceans.

But have a care not to make your converts twice as fit for hell as you are yourself.

Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.tumblr_mqlvipSQmW1r20af2o1_1280

Gender Bound | Judi Herring | TEDxJacksonville – YouTube

Gender Bound | Judi Herring | TEDxJacksonville – YouTube.

A very interesting short talk about gender…and how the binary has trapped and limited us as beings

 

Just Overheard This…

“Don’t come at me with all your ‘weird little man logic’, okay?!?”
From the movie “The Other Woman”

oh gawd how I laffed at that…remembering all the weird little man logic I overheard for years…tumblr_lojcwnx4at1qknvf5o1_1280

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.tumblr_mnw8oxlzn11qapjp8o1_500

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

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

Constance…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly,

Charissa Gracetumblr_n81ff1rQWM1spq83no1_1280

Van Nuys transgender woman stabbed to death then set on fire | Planet Transgender

Van Nuys transgender woman stabbed to death then set on fire | Planet Transgender.

Constance…nice to see that the perp got the obligatory “setting the corpse on fire” piece correct…right??

Sigh…always the post mortem mayhem and mutilation.

What does say about the strength of gender orientation?

(And no, Hater…the answer is NOT “the bitch had it coming”)

Well, at least we can all console ourselves with the knowledge that our Transgender Remembrance Day is gonna be soo great for all of us who live, and we will have plenty to preen about and feel ever so sad over as we break our arms patting ourselves on the back for how progressive we are because we cry and remember the dead ones.

Oh, but we must be oh so careful to never actually do anything about this ongoing murder spree lest we make the need for Transgender Remembrance Day disappear…can’t have that, now, can we!!?  I mean, actually do something??  *Shudder*

Yes, Constance, you did a remarkable job in detecting my extreme sarcasm…get the point, and then get to work.  This will not change until cis-gender people with privilege speak up and use their power on our behalf.

Grim Charissatumblr_niy1u2vGyP1qhap7so1_1280

Transgender kids show consistent gender identity across measures

Transgender kids show consistent gender identity across measures.

Good Morning Constance!

I am posting this link for a couple of reasons:

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

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

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

It’s actually pretty simple.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After over 3 decades.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Including gender orientation.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa Gracetumblr_n2dq0uj9xr1t4oyc2o1_500

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

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

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

Polarity vs Duality: Understanding the Way Forward

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

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

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

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

Ash Beckham

September 2014 Boulder, Colorado

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

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

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

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

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

Hello my name is ?

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

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

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

Us/Them

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TEDxBoulder is Supported by Applied Trust

END TRANSCRIPT

There may be small errors in this transcript.

How You Can Be A Trans-Ally

Charissa Meditations on Rape, Gender and the Patriarchy

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

Good Morning Constance…

I am pressing this article here on Grace Notes for a couple of reasons:  the low hanging fruit here, of course, is the putting on blatant naked display the kind of ignorance and misogyny that transgender people face…but specifically transgender women face to a far larger degree than transgender men do.  As I read the kinds of assumptions that are made and asserted, I am astounded at the towering lack of knowledge and the even deeper unwillingness to be educated about the issue.
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But let’s dig a bit deeper here…note that the primary canard that is hysterically hurled over and over again is that “men” want to rape women, and so they will go to any length to engage in this violation, including “dressing up as a woman”, entering a bathroom, and then feasting like a wolf on defenseless denizens within.  Thus we cannot risk allowing transgender women to use the women’s restrooms, but will force them into men’s restrooms…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.
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“When Side B is the New Ex-Gay”

“When Side B is the New Ex-Gay”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, I do now.

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

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

Every.  Single.  One.

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

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

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

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

And when done listening…well, listen some more.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa GraceImage 001

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and in the name of “love”.

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

Do justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly.

Charissa

7 Reasons the Church Should Be Afraid NOT to Affirm LGBTQ

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

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

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

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

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

Right!

To a Church That Dehumanizes Gays

To a Church That Dehumanizes Gays.

This letter.

Read.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The true YES renders the no moot.

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

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

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

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

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

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Why did David Reimer commit suicide?

Why did David Reimer commit suicide?.

Dear Constance:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think you get my point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It never ends, those “or”s.

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

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

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

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly.

Charissa

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strong words.

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

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

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

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

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

In serious stillness and love,
Charissa

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

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

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

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

Charissa

Suicide Strikes Again

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

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

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

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

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Some very sad news to share.

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

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

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

We have to do better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodbye,

(Leelah) Josh Alcorn

11 Ways 2014 Was the Biggest Year in Transgender History | Rolling Stone

11 Ways 2014 Was the Biggest Year in Transgender History | Rolling Stone.

Good Morning Constance…

I ran across this article this morning, and of course was interested to read of this historical recounting of an amazing year of awareness growing…

…and yet, somehow, I found it strangely disconnected from my own life.  In the midst of these events, I swam in my own seas of trial, toil, sorrow and joy.

My own year:

In early January, I went to my therapist dressed as myself…outside in public.  It terrified me and I thought I would die of fear.  When I walked into her office, she cried in joy.  Her tears are jewels in my memory.

In late January I had my ears pierced, and though it hurt like crazy, I was ecstatic.  A week later, I was derisively interrogated by subordinates at work “what the F**k had I done with my ears?”.  That particular brand of self-loathing, shame, fear and anger gave me its first sip…it is not intoxicating.  It is hell.

In February, I began HRT…and the horror fires banked so long in forges that rival Mordor in despair began to diminish, and then extinguish, and streams of mercy clear and relief substantial coursed through my veins…and who I am began to blossom and bloom…I was well named at birth, if it is considered what that sort of thing is destined to do…

In April, I had more experiences at work that were distressing.  I also joined my poetry group, and that cadre of people who have only ever known me as myself are such salt of the earth wonders, who simply know me as Charissa, the odd poetess.  One beautiful woman in particular has taken me under her wing…and on that first fearful night, she looked at me with open face and clear eyes.

In Spring and summer, I sold my truck and used the proceeds to fund my transition…of this I can only refer you to those months.

In summer a relationship that is very significant to me began to be built, the first one, in fact, as me Charissa.  It is a very simple one in its arc and scope…it is very complex in that it is unfolding from the end to the beginning, and someday we shall arrive where we are meant to begin.  It is encumbered with obstacles, none insurmountable but all onerous…distance, time, and prejudice rooted in ignorance and fed by distrust are outside forces that have so far driven us on with sails full before those winds, and we have sailed to many wondrous shores…may there ever be another, DDH…ever be another until the Last.tumblr_nh5lyicxll1qgk7mfo1_1280

And in the autumn, I took my own journey down The Green Mile that most of my sisters walk…I was murdered professionally, guilty of the crime of becoming myself and throwing off the chains of privilege and white male power and position.

This is the ultimate crime in our patriarchy.

A human being, born biologically as an XY chromosome-assigned being, and granted all the accompanying privileges, rights and riches, power and position, initiated into the ways of “men” and present in their spaces…this human considers all that as utter futility compared to the all surpassing richness of being myself and authentic…and I am unabashedly thrilled to be myself…I openly declare being a woman to be the better destiny and life.

For those crimes I had to die.  I have been put in my place, and my tale of woe would be recognized by any woman anywhere who sought to be herself in places she was not permitted to be.

Since that moment life is full of unbecoming…unwrapping, unraveling…the chrysalis is split and the butterfly within is terrified as its house and covering is torn asunder…only the future will inform her she can fly while she writhes in the clutches of the threatening lonely present.

Abandoned by friends, neglected by loved ones, showered by Mama, constantly encouraged by one…the heart of my heart and constant support and nearly my life itself…16601790-standard

…that is the year in review for me.  A year of portent.  Perhaps the overall macro view contrasted with the small view of this flea will give you some perspective in the issues we face that cis-gender people take for granted.

May 2015 contain triumph to match the certain tears…may there be joy enough to overcome my fears…and may I find somehow the grace to continue on, in the midst of lonely silence and neglect and need, laying aside my own selfish point of view and greed to feed and care for myself…may I be a vessel poured out over and over again, trusting Mama to fill me full and looking never to others.

Blessings to you Constance…and deepest heart gratitude that you are reading here this day.  Your support has been so precious and invaluable.

Charissa Grace…a butterfly emerging and persistent.

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California Department of Education Lies, Does Not Investigate LGBTQ Bullying

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

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

Your involvement could make all the difference.

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

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

raisingmyrainbow's avatarRaising My Rainbow

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

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

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

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

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

View original post 637 more words

Leaning Hard Against That Night

icicles hung glittering clear,
they shot diamonds, mercury bright
and gleams refracting morning light
they hid the horrid crime that happened
in the cold and dark black night…icicle

how can people do it, say it?
well, last night the deed was done
beneath clouds scuttering wet and rainy
(like my covers wet with tears,)

it will be done again you know,
but only lonely dead will weep
and they are dead…so that leaves just
the children crying in the cold
and hungry violence of the night.

that hand groped blind and deaf, and reached
for icicles hung in the dark,
all light drained dry and swallowed down
fear’s greedy gullet, sucked into
the belly of the raving beast. IMG_6829

that tongue, fearsome and cleaved in twain
and mute, waggling helplessly
between those fearful gnashing teeth
it fluttered, spit, stuttered and hit
with lies, with bitter accusations
comforting and crooning.

the disembodied hand snapped off
that cold icicle, that one that
the red light of Mars’ distant eye
unblinking, licked, caressed and sharpened,

then the hand floated across
the room so dark and thick with terror,
while some choked disembodied voice
muttered Mene, Mene, Teqel, Upharsin
and I knew I was a wall
and it the hungry writer, and
then it fell in fierce red streaks,
such icy strokes of death tattooingbloody_icicle_by_achmedxd-d37863p

“unclean!”     “beware!”     “mind-whore!”

my blood was its gory ink
and my heart was its inkwell, screaming
as it wrote again, again,
it wrote again, til I drained dry,
lay still, eyes glassed and blindly staring
at the black sky spinning, fading
from my view while that night faded
into grey dawn streaked with crimson
bursting full into today.

I woke up and found my face
was wet, and thank god it was just
my tears and not my blood, but wait…
my eyes were caked, dry, rimed with salt
and sleep…the clammy wet was really
that icicle and the secret
kill it keeps inside its melty
hungry heart so ravenous
and never satisfied or sated,
just drunk on my blood and terror,
drunk on me, so feared and hated.
icicle (1)

i died last night…but in my dreams,
so there is not a corpse remaining
and the murder weapon melted
(they always do in dreams, you know)
and so the killer walks the earth
so smug and lily pure and knowing
that the sprawling feast is now
secure and safe and once again

the killer sings out

“all is well inside the city!”

walls so high, so white, so white,
just like the cliffs of Dover standing,
leaning hard into that night.

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The Tranny-curse (haiku)

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there, around my neck

choking me in its fat fist

branding me unclean

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

This is me…

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this is me, inside my heart, my soul cupped in my hands
and lifted high in graceful beauty unto heavenly lands,
this is my spirit, beautiful and yielded in my place
on sacred prayer mat made of love and tears and joy and grace.

but this is that me, seen, encountered, clumsy in this world,
the way i am perceived and felt, the heated judgments hurled,
hard and horned, coarse and dull, imprisoned in my place,
of silence, sorrow, empty house, tears always on my face.

Bisonbulle(Bison Bull)

Under the Surface

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

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

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

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

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Worthless…on Transgender Remembrance Day

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

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

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

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

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

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Excerpted from a larger article:

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


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

image via http://www.gazettenet.com

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

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

 via http://giveout.razoo.com

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

Via americanprogress.org

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

Bleeding Light and Memory: On Transgender Remembrance Day

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

Bleeding Light and Memory (Without Images for Structure)

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

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

Love, Charissa

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

Bleeding Light and Memory (2014 version)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Corollary:  Mama’s Love is stronger than death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Key quote:

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

 

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

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

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16 years after gang-rape allegation, Brenda Tracy steps from the shadows

Canzano: 16 years after Oregon State football gang-rape allegation, Brenda Tracy steps from the shadows | OregonLive.com.

Dear Constance:

I am pressing this article here for you to go and read.  I want you to know that I personally know people involved in this story.

I also want you to know that it is illustrative of 2 things:

First, just how much things have changed in the last 16 years!  To read of how this matter was handled…to be reminded of it.  Oh, I remember when it happened, and how back then “He said She said” was a viable defense, how helpless feeling I was, reading about these things, knowing in my gut the sick feeling that horror was playing out right before my eyes and yet my mind fogged by ignorance, privilege, and frankly by the kind of thought prevalent then and even now that says “a woman who goes to those places gets what she deserves”.

God…I am so sorry for that foggy ignorance!

The second thing this incident is illustrative of is this:  for women?  Nothing has changed!  In thousands and thousands of years of abuse, violation, dehumanization, crushing…nothing has changed.  So the culture today is catching up and getting better…does that make a victim feel any better in the moment?  Does it make the violation less death-dealing?  Does it somehow minimize the crime, in that the rest of us are getting up to speed?  Does that make them better?

No…no.  A thousand, million times no!  How many women throughout history have been violated?  Seriously…think about that number.

(And men, shut your pie-hole about the numbers of males who also have suffered.  Yes, humans are absolutely demonically awful to each other, but the stark fact is that when you take the number of violations as a ratio to the overall population the overwhelming disparity is the stuff of legendary absurdity!)

I guess the final thing is this:  I wept bitterly and deeply as I read this…because it triggered me in my own violations I endured…and they weren’t even physical in nature!  So trying to imagine her plight, her horror, seeking to measure her courage was beyond me.

This is Transgender Remembrance Week…the week during which we remember the transgender human beings who have been murdered simply for “breathing while trans”.  But today…broaden it out. Contemplate the ways great and small that it is “okay” for this sort of treatment to occur…

…and resolve to be a part of the change!

Do justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly.
Charissa

Brenda Tracy

 

To The PTA Moms at My Son’s School

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

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

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

Charissa

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raisingmyrainbow's avatarRaising My Rainbow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🙂

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

Love to my Sis…Charissa

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Dani's avatarDani De Luca

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

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

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

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

I am a woman.

And blessed to…

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

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

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

Here is my current conclusion:

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

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

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

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The Courageous Debi Jackson

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

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

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

If only…if only…

Love, Charissa

Debi Jackson PFLAG Speech

Twins

I SOO love the exposure of the entitlement thinking here…

the following photo was take in 1937 and captioned as follows:

In 1937 two women caused a car accident by wearing shorts in public for the first time

I read the following comment on a site where I just spotted this:

No they didn’t. The man driving his car who took his eyes off the road because he was staring at a pair of women caused a car crash. He averted his eyes from the road, he endangered other people and he crashed his own car. This is all the proof you need that we live in a society that blames women for things they didn’t do.

Constance…your assignment for today:  think of all the ways that we blame shift in our society…because blame-shifting is such a common thing for humans to do anyway (hey, see Genesis:  the woman blames the snake, and then Adam blames the woman, and then blames God too…).

But there are huge ways we do that culturally…rape is a good one to look at.  Ways that people are either empowered with entitlement in shifting blame to women for being raped, or ways that women are violated even deeper in that they are made responsible for their own violation.

Race is another one…and the issue of “driving while black, walking while black, or fill in the blank while black” and how police authorities then blame-shift their own hatred, or fear, or whatever onto the ones they brutalize.

Religion is another, and it is a veritable tennis match as haters on both sides shift viscous volleys of blame back and forth from “those damned liberals” to “those ignorant fundies”.

And now that you are warmed up…how about just lil old you?  How do you blame shift onto others?  (Charissa will not comment regarding her own woodshedding with Mama regarding that Q)

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I’m attracted to trans women – Salon.com

I’m attracted to trans women – Salon.com.

I am pressing this, Constance, because it is the chronicle of the courage of a person to explore the dynamics and politics of gender in a world that is gradually moving from ignorance into enlightenment in this area.

No…this does not mean that I want to date men.

No…this does not mean that I want to date women either!  Quite simply, gender and sexuality intersect only to the degree that the individual person connects them, they are not inextricably joined at the hip!

All desire to date anyone disappeared from within me the literal instant my eyes saw my beloved.  She is my “sexual orientation”…She is my “sexual preference”…I don’t know if I would have seen her if she was male-bodied, but now that I have lived with her these last decades, well it would not matter to me what body she had…she is herself, and forever my one and only love.

Just wanted to mention that because of the coming crap storm from my self-appointed “lovers of the sinner” who will say that I am (fill in the blank from their fetid minds and sordid imaginations and black hearts)…

Nope, none of that, I want you to please read the thoughtful intelligent steps of courage of a human being.

It is only circumstance that I met my beloved before dealing with my gender issues…who knows how the struggle would have been?  And that is why the issue must be grappled with.  Each person needs love and someone to love…even transgender people.

Charissa

PS:  I just noticed that this article appeared in a different form at this link:

Defeating Shame: My Story of Trans-Attraction

It is just enough different as to be interesting.

10 questions to never ask a transgender person by Laura Jane Grace

I found this online, Constance.  It is not mine:

 

 

21 Gun Salute

They stood there,
silhouetted against the sunrise
and rifles aimed, at me
silhouetted against the velvet dark
of dawning and birth and being,
silhouetted against that red brick wall.

21 guns, barrels like unblinking eyes,
black, flat depths unblinking too
and peering from their graves
in grim unfeeling determination
to put me in my place,
put me in my grave,
put me back with them.

There are 3 bullets among them,
the 21 guns staring unblinking and grim,
and they comfort themselves with lies
that they do not know who has the bullets…
but I do, I know, I see
the silver winking bright
in the unblinking barrels

once (Father!)
twice (Forgive them!)
thrice (They know not what they do!)

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And then the lightning struck
in those volleys of thunder raining down
over my ears as my eyes went bright
and my vision streaked red and silver
in terror and tragic tremour and
violent shuddery release.

It knocked me out of my shoes
and pinned my shadow against that
smooth red brick wall, now pitted
three times pitiless and gaping,
and I felt funny somehow, floating there,
hanging light and airy, somehow too light
without my shadow, crumpled
and remaining nailed
to brick and beam
by palm and palm and foot
and those empty shoes, kicked akimbo
by my eager rushing exit from that place.

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Right under their noses!
I rose up unseen
while they stared on
in horror and resignation
except for the three
who leered in hungry glee
and desperate jealous lusty thirst.
But for just a bit, I stayed,
to move from gun to gun
and kiss the barrels each one cold
(and 3 so hot and acrid)
and then I began to rise and leave,
when I heard some flat dead zombie voice say
“get that thing out of here and clean this mess up”.

I saw that it was one of them,
a former being who was
a current corporate walking dead
(but hey, see this company credit card?)
and dressed
in shoes and sunglasses
and lumpy
in the dawn’s early light
and I couldn’t tell
what was more offensive:
my shoes skewed
sideways and useless
or my shadow
pinned and unmoving?

I shed one celestial tear
and rose up on the sound
of 21 flat cracks still ringing
and I leapt graceful
on feet bare and light
from sounds of wrong
to sounds of ever right
and found my wings
midst the flurry of sound and fury
and flew away for good
to a 21 gun salute.

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10 Things You’re Actually Saying When You Ignore Someone’s Gender Pronouns — Everyday Feminism

10 Things You’re Actually Saying When You Ignore Someone’s Gender Pronouns — Everyday Feminism.

Constance…immediately pass this on to every stubborn person who is important to you.  It is that good, and it does give the basic and true message communicated by those who refuse to use proper pronouns.

I know in my life?  So unfortunate, but the people that I love, was willing to sacrifice for and even die a bit for, well, they did not feel the same way about me and they engaged in terrible acts of betrayal.

So, weirdly, it set me free.

Now?  Well, thanks to them, and my wonderful horrible very own haters who come as dementors, I have toughened up…and here is the truth:

When you gender-shame me with improper pronouns and hate filled speech, you identify yourself as a hater, and make the whole thing easy for me.  I can save my love and effort for those who are engaged and loving.

“But wait!!”  I can hear the haters right now.  “Wait!  You have to love your enemies and be kind to those who persecute you!”  Well hater…I will after you do.  You stop showing up here spewing your crap, and show me how to love…and in my case, I am not even your enemy and have never done a thing to you, have never even met you!  So you have the easy down hill…you simply be nice and love me…and then I will think about it.

“But what can I do to love you??” asks the hater…

Use the proper pronouns.  We’ll start there.

Charissa

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8 Things Parents of Trans Kids Want You to Know | Brynn Tannehill

8 Things Parents of Trans Kids Want You to Know | Brynn Tannehill.

Posted without comment, on advice from my bff and my baby.

Constance, please read this…please hear hearts

Charissa

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Terminology and the problem of unintended offense (Part One)

Constance, I think I will be okay to post about this, as it is unrelated to the other issues I am dealing with in my life.

I want to talk about terminology…and the way that an issue is presented, discussed, talked about and written about has such a profound effect on the overall zeitgeist of what the issue actually is.

Let me build on the article I posted yesterday (right here is the link again:  Gender Confirmation Surgery:  What’s In a Name? ), and tell you a bit about what it is like to be someone like me…or really, someone from any minority group that is little understood…but I only know about mine, right?

Imagine if you will that suddenly, for no reason that you could tell, everyone you met began calling you by the gender other than the one you identify as…if you are a woman, they called you a man, and if you are a man, they called you a woman.  What would you do?

First, you would correct them…but wait, then you see the looks of confusion, or puzzlement, or irritation, cus no one likes being corrected for anything.

So then you will think, well, I just wasn’t careful enough…what is obvi to me is hidden to them, for whatever reason.  So you decide to explain a bit…and the eyes glaze over, or they roll cus you sound so condescending and pedantic in your convoluted attempt to explain you are the gender you are.

Next, you will check yourself…your dress, your pants, your shoes, all the visual cues you can control, your voice and your walk and gestures…but nothing works.  No matter what, you are still called the opposite gender.

No…really try to take a moment…don’t just read the next line.  Please stop:  imagine…there.  Now you are getting a scintilla of the experience, minus the wonders of the gut-grind of dysphoria.

That is the first thing.

The next thing is say that it was permanent for you…and you needed to do something or die.  You began transition, and you found others who are like you for support…and then lo and behold the culture begins changing a bit.  You discover allies!  Even friends!!  YAAAAYYY!!!!

But you also find that there is a lot of simply uninformed thinking operative in those allies and friends.  You feel like you already are getting so much forbearance from them that it seems nit-pickish to point out their well intentioned but inaccurate vocabulay…or the truly supportive but incredibly wounding comment…what do you do?

Correct them, to save them future embarrassment and feeling bad because the support they intended ended up wounding just like the bullies who misgender on purpose?  Or overlook it, and continue to try to educate as a context for the relationships so they can soak it up and find themselves in the right spot organically.

I will be vulnerable and tell you all something:  whether I am misgendered by a bully who does it on purpose to hurt me, or whether I am misgendered by a friend who literally has no idea, it hurts just as bad.

And it is a defeating hurt, a deflating one…punctures, drains, and then, nothing but empty and worthless…the shell seen and nothing inside.

I don’t know what is right, so I will just tell you what I am choosing here:  I am going to try to gently, gracefully and lovingly correct.  As I do that, I will ramble and say waaaayyy more than I likely need to…cus I would rather err on that side than the terse too brief and too open to question posting of “just the facts” Joe Friday style.

Part 2 will continue below.  I hope the things I write here have some impact…honestly I often feel like it is shouting into a canyon and what I hear coming back is just the echo of my own voice in the lonely stillness.  But that is nothing I can control…I write, so that is what I will do, regardless

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‘Gender Confirmation Surgery’: What’s in a Name? | Loren S. Schechter, M.D., F.A.C.S.

‘Gender Confirmation Surgery’: What’s in a Name? | Loren S. Schechter, M.D., F.A.C.S..

Hi Constance… I just referred to this in a comment over at Dani’s blog, which hopefully I handled in a graceful and kind way.

I thought you all might enjoy reading it as well.

Blessings,

Charissa

 

The T Word: Transgender

Constance…I have no words to express what this means to me…what is being said to me…both in the post and in the comments. I simply will repost this, and let you know something: each of you is a potential ally in someone’s life. I an so very blessed to have the one that I do, and she knows how I feel, who I am, and our welcoming, beckoning road…and thus for me to say anything more is inappropriate, in that the only legit words for to say are uh-MAZED and broken thank yous…55 years of loneliness is a long time.

Dani's avatarDani De Luca

You don’t get to decide the truth. Other people have their own experiences, just as valid. This is easy to forget. Your slice of life seems so large and unmistakable, like a mirage of wholeness from where you stand. But it is your job to know better and not confuse your small piece for the whole, even if you sometimes forget. Life is big—much bigger than just yours. This is the only note to self: other people are real. That’s all there is to learn. 

— Frank Chimero – The Only Note To Self

At an event earlier this month, I sat reading over the only flyer available: an advertisement for The New Three Tenors.  As I glanced over the neon page, I saw two sandled feet standing inches from where I sat.  I found the feet peculiar, noting that the toes weren’t bare but layered with seamed stockings, and…

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So true…but the headwind, ohhh…the headwind

Saw this just now, and wow did I relate…the quote, I related to it in that I have some blessings in my life who assiduously refuse to allow me to beat myself up (if they see it! lol), and the pic…well that is just life right now.

Stop beating yourself up. You are a work in progress –
which means you get there a little at a time, not all at once.

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Branded

Constance…right now I feel pretty darn unlovely, if I am open…

struggling thru these circumstances where it is my truest and best self that I have been becoming, with soo much good and yet that is going to get me fired from my work…

or worse, leave me there after they have so deeply violated me and ripped out my guts…

I find out tomorrow…oh yes, in their exquisite torture they wish to prolong the agony, in the name of further investigation.

Q: you are a smart and perceptive person Constance…in anything I have written since post #1 have you read anything that would indicate I am a “vindictive”, “revengeful”, “bully” who uses position and power to coerce and threaten others…?????

I confess that the way they used those words…well it was as if they grabbed branding irons and branded the insides of my thighs and while I know in my heart that is the literal opposite of who I am, it left these severe marks…

…perhaps with Mama’s grace I can someday wear them as badges of honor, but until then the pain is nearly unbearable

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