I have a lot of queer friends. We have a lot of interesting conversations about identity and legality and how crazy the world is. I recently got to witness a conversation that exemplified, at least to us, why this whole bi-trans debate (you know; does the term ‘bisexual’ negate transfolk and uphold the gender binary?) is really unnecessary. The setup: a lesbian, a bisexual, a pansexual and a transsexual (all terms used generally) walk into the room (we were not at a bar, but you can pretend). The lesbian and bisexual are dating, are both female, and are very affectionate; whenever they get caught in a PDA moment, someone inevitably goes “ewwwwww, lesbians!” At first it was funny, but after a while, the bisexual friend in question starting voicing how this actually made her feel uncomfortable and overlooked because it entirely undermined her bisexual identity. And some people were like, oh right. Our bad. But some other people were like, get over it, you’re a lesbian right now.
Cue the pansexual (female presenting) and transsexual (male presenting), who are also dating and are also fairly affectionate, but get less teasing from the general group. During one of THEIR recent PDA moments, the bisexual friend interjected, “ewwwwww, breeders!” Everyone laughed, but the pansexual girl, who may or may not actually be me, was like, oh hell no. Saying that entirely undermines my queer identity. And people were like, oh right. Our bad.
The bisexual friend said nothing, just let it sink it. One by one, the members of our little group realized that if we’re going to respect one queer’s preferred identity label, we’re going to have to respect another’s, too. We haven’t had our next group get-together yet, but I’m willing to bet there will be far fewer lesbian jokes aimed at my clever bisexual friend.
Moral of the story: There is no queer hierarchy, no right or wrong way to be who you are. We all identify differently because that difference makes us beautiful; respecting that difference makes our friendships beautiful. Don’t overlook identities you don’t understand; you never know when it’s going to come back to you.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Excuses Excuses: Suicide Prevention
There are two things I could pass my clear failure to keep my promise on. The first is my dead laptop charger, which I couldn’t afford to replace until recently. The second is the fact I have hit a rocky spot in my personal life (which DOES exist, you know), and ultimately came pretty close to dying myself.
Suicide is a huge problem in the GLBTQ community. Statistically, queer (gay/lesbian/bisexual etc) youth are four times more likely to attempt it than heterosexual youth. Transgender youth often have even less places to turn, and arguably even more isolation and confusion to deal with; thus, trans youth are even more at risk. In fact, I don’t think I know more than a couple transgender people who have never seriously considered suicide. It’s depressing, but that’s the reality.
Suicide comes from feeling helpless and hopeless, which is why transgender allies like us can be so important; we provide that help and hope. It’s tempting to pass off a comment about suicide as a joke or a moment of melodrama; everyone wants an excuse not to believe that the person is serious. Even really fantastic people, or people with counseling training, don’t want to admit that someone they love could be struggling. Trust me. I know.
Luckily, Suicide Prevention programs and hotlines exist EVERYWHERE. The first, and most well-known, 24/7 Suicide Prevention Hotline for GLBTQ youth is called the Trevor Project. The project was born from a short film, called Trevor, about a suicidal gay boy; the creators used the money from the film to start a resource to help people in Trevor’s position. Phone counselors go through 40+ hours of training and can be reached at ANY time at 1-866-488-7386. The website, www.thetrevorproject.org, has plenty of other resources too!
It’s scary, but not impossible, to help someone who’s contemplating suicide—but the first and hardest step is to admit that it’s a possibility. Don’t look for excuses to shy away from the word or the person; ask outright, and keep checking in. Chances are, just having someone to talk to frankly will help that person dramatically. But remember too that YOU are not a professional—so after that initial conversation, be sure to get outside help for that person. Call the Trevor Project, or if it’s a real emergency, 911. Ze may be mad at you for a day or two, but ultimately, ze’ll thank you for saving hir life. Trust me.
Suicide is a huge problem in the GLBTQ community. Statistically, queer (gay/lesbian/bisexual etc) youth are four times more likely to attempt it than heterosexual youth. Transgender youth often have even less places to turn, and arguably even more isolation and confusion to deal with; thus, trans youth are even more at risk. In fact, I don’t think I know more than a couple transgender people who have never seriously considered suicide. It’s depressing, but that’s the reality.
Suicide comes from feeling helpless and hopeless, which is why transgender allies like us can be so important; we provide that help and hope. It’s tempting to pass off a comment about suicide as a joke or a moment of melodrama; everyone wants an excuse not to believe that the person is serious. Even really fantastic people, or people with counseling training, don’t want to admit that someone they love could be struggling. Trust me. I know.
Luckily, Suicide Prevention programs and hotlines exist EVERYWHERE. The first, and most well-known, 24/7 Suicide Prevention Hotline for GLBTQ youth is called the Trevor Project. The project was born from a short film, called Trevor, about a suicidal gay boy; the creators used the money from the film to start a resource to help people in Trevor’s position. Phone counselors go through 40+ hours of training and can be reached at ANY time at 1-866-488-7386. The website, www.thetrevorproject.org, has plenty of other resources too!
It’s scary, but not impossible, to help someone who’s contemplating suicide—but the first and hardest step is to admit that it’s a possibility. Don’t look for excuses to shy away from the word or the person; ask outright, and keep checking in. Chances are, just having someone to talk to frankly will help that person dramatically. But remember too that YOU are not a professional—so after that initial conversation, be sure to get outside help for that person. Call the Trevor Project, or if it’s a real emergency, 911. Ze may be mad at you for a day or two, but ultimately, ze’ll thank you for saving hir life. Trust me.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The Tough Parts
Being a trans ally, or “Transgender Defender” if you’re feeling super-hero-y about it, isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s awkward, or alienating—you can’t explain your feelings to people who embrace the binary, but you can’t truly relate to the transfolk who utterly reject it either. In fact, being a trans ally can be downright depressing sometimes.
Say you’re dating a transgender person, and all your friends freak out because you’re no longer adhering to their definitions of ‘gay’ or ‘straight’—a dichotomy based on gender. Say your parents freak out because they don’t think you’ll ever have children. Or, say your aunts and uncles don’t let you near your baby cousins because you might somehow destroy them. That part’s my favorite.
Say you’re related to a transgender person, and the rest of the family starts whispering behind your back. Wondering why you’re so supportive of the perversity, as they see it, wondering what it is you have to gain from making all of them feel so awkward. Trashing you because you’re not united against the problem like the rest of the family; you’re not helping to find a solution.
Say you’re just friendly with a transgender person, and your friends and family all worry that you might decide you’re going to change your appearance or even body, too. Say you get shunned because no one wants to be associated with someone, who associates with someone, who’s different.
Say this all happened years ago, and you think by now everyone’s over it. Then your transgender friend does his first drag performance, and someone who’s known about this friend for years—someone who’s supposed to love and respect you unconditionally—says, “when will it make up its mind?” That can throw you into a funk for a weekend.
Thing is, no matter how far you come with the people you love, there’s still some more to go. Unless everyone you know is marching alongside you in the transgender pride march—and sometimes even then—there’s going to be strife. Sometimes you’re aware of it and can sidestep it. Sometimes it blindsides you out of left field.
There are two things to remember when this happens. One, if you feel ostracized, just imagine how the transgender person who got you into this community feels. Two—you are not alone. There are tons of transgender allies out there, and they are all facing the same kinds of things in their daily lives. In fact, that’s why this blog exists.
Say you’re dating a transgender person, and all your friends freak out because you’re no longer adhering to their definitions of ‘gay’ or ‘straight’—a dichotomy based on gender. Say your parents freak out because they don’t think you’ll ever have children. Or, say your aunts and uncles don’t let you near your baby cousins because you might somehow destroy them. That part’s my favorite.
Say you’re related to a transgender person, and the rest of the family starts whispering behind your back. Wondering why you’re so supportive of the perversity, as they see it, wondering what it is you have to gain from making all of them feel so awkward. Trashing you because you’re not united against the problem like the rest of the family; you’re not helping to find a solution.
Say you’re just friendly with a transgender person, and your friends and family all worry that you might decide you’re going to change your appearance or even body, too. Say you get shunned because no one wants to be associated with someone, who associates with someone, who’s different.
Say this all happened years ago, and you think by now everyone’s over it. Then your transgender friend does his first drag performance, and someone who’s known about this friend for years—someone who’s supposed to love and respect you unconditionally—says, “when will it make up its mind?” That can throw you into a funk for a weekend.
Thing is, no matter how far you come with the people you love, there’s still some more to go. Unless everyone you know is marching alongside you in the transgender pride march—and sometimes even then—there’s going to be strife. Sometimes you’re aware of it and can sidestep it. Sometimes it blindsides you out of left field.
There are two things to remember when this happens. One, if you feel ostracized, just imagine how the transgender person who got you into this community feels. Two—you are not alone. There are tons of transgender allies out there, and they are all facing the same kinds of things in their daily lives. In fact, that’s why this blog exists.
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