New Post Format?

Once, I went to this really great transgender ally workshop at a conference. We worked together to come up with a categorized list of experiences—actually, we had four huge pieces of paper and fifty markers and were turned loose. I can’t remember all the categories right now—I wrote them down and I can get back to you on that—but my favorites were “I smile when” and “I hurt when.”

Sometimes, the hardest thing about being a trans ally is that you have no one to share those experiences with. That’s why I started this blog originally. Actually, the idea came out of the first workshop of this style I ever went to; the mother of a transman was using male pronouns with a female name and wishing for a resource—not for the answers, but for some kind of compassion, understanding, companionship. That could have been four years ago. Her son is actually my roommate now, but I assure you that’s a weird coincidence brought on from the fact that everyone knows everyone in queer New England. He and my cat are currently neck-and-neck in a snoring competition on the couch next to me. Cute little pests. *petpet*

Anyway. I started working on my own lists, based off my own experiences and off of things I’ve heard or seen or read. It’s a work in progress, multi-author kind of thing. But I think you might enjoy it.

Indiana School Apologizes, Offers LGBT Protection

So, in a nutshell—in 2006 (oh man, that’s when I graduated, too), a transgender student in Indiana was not allowed to attend her senior prom because she was wearing a dress but was born male. The refusal was in keeping with a policy about sexually appropriate dress, and was applied to K.K. Logan even though a biologically female student was permitted to attend the dance in a tux. Four years later, the school has awarded Logan an indeterminate sum, agreed to provide LGBT sensitivity training to administration, and adopted policies protecting the rights of LGBT students. The school issued a public apology and promised to “ensure that something like this does not happen again.” I’d say that’s a taste of success, wouldn’t you?

Longer story here!

Infant Dies for Breaking Gender Roles

Okay, here’s something to get mad about.

The first headline I caught read, “Long Island Man Kills Infant Boy for Acting Like a Girl.” I’ll understand if you don’t want to read anymore, really.

Any news story out so far doesn’t have much more information than that. Apparently, this twenty-year-old guy was babysitting his girlfriend’s seventeen-month-old son (that’s about a year and a half for those of you keeping up) and decided he had to teach him a lesson about masculinity. It’s unclear just what the infant was doing that was so feminine, but it must have incited some kind of fury in Pedro Jones, who beat the child several times with his fists. The child was found alive, in cardiac arrest, and died later that night in the hospital. Jones reportedly explained, “I was trying to make him act like a boy instead of a little girl.” Here’s the kicker; the additional admission, “I never struck that kid that hard before.” I don’t even know what to say about that one. Jones will be tried for first-degree manslaughter, which apparently could equate to anything from five to twenty-five years in prison.

You’d think this kind of thing only happened in highly conservative states, right? You’d be wrong, though. Roy A. Jones lived and died on a reservation on Long Island.

Whether you add Roy to the list of people killed in the name of transphobia is probably a personal choice; it’s doubtful that we’ll ever know much more about what actually happened. Either way, though, the fact is clear that gender roles still play a huge role in our society. When gender roles are questioned or broken—even, apparently, by toddlers—it can and does provoke a strong, immediate, and sometimes violent and irrevocable reaction. I find this fascinating, given the fact that gender is an entirely socially constructed concept. Nevertheless— the danger is real. This is why we do what we do, folks. Keep your head above the water, and keep living with love—and keep the Jones family in your thoughts this week.

Is This Thing On?

Let’s be honest… this is a shameless, shameless attempt at interaction. I keep making those. But at this point, I’m SO interested in feedback, I’m willing to dedicate an ENTIRE post just to getting some! Yay self-promotion!

I want to know what you think, but specifically, I want to know what you want me to write about. Blogs really only work if the blogger is writing about things the reader cares about, see. I do what I can to mix up the topics and keep things interesting, but more often than not, the post passes on down the page, comment-less and sad. I know you’re reading them though—blogger tells me you are anyway—so I’m just wondering—where’s the response?

I want this blog to be a really flexible resource for everyone—parents, friends, siblings, partners, and of course the curious onlooker. That’s a pretty diverse group, so of course the blog reflects that—in content as well as in style. Some posts only pertain to parents or siblings, while others are partner-specific, which is why the tags exist. Additionally, while some posts are about general topics and personal experiences, others focus on time-sensitive news, or else highlight an important resource to the trans community that I think you might like to take a look at.

But you already know all of that! I guess what my question for you is—is it working? I want to hear from you! If you let me know what you want to see more of, what works and what doesn’t, I’ll definitely keep that in mind when I write. Suggest some topics! Share some experiences! I’d hoped that this blog would be a way for people to connect—so feel free to use it!

When A Partner Transitions: Part Two: Conflict

If you’ve never done it before, dating a trans person can be hard— especially if that person is someone you’re used to thinking of as a girl or boy already. Don’t feel guilty for the feelings you have about the transition—rather, explore them, be aware of them, be honest about them, and do your best to work through them. It can be really hard to feel like you have to give up the person you know, and really hard to start using a new name and/or pronoun because, let’s face it, you cared for that person strongly as they were, and maybe you don’t want them to change. The most important thing to remember in this situation is that your partner is not gone, and you are not now dating a stranger. Your partner did not change overnight; rather, they chose to share something with you that they’ve undoubtedly been thinking about privately for a long time. The person you love is still right there by your side. In fact, if you stay through the tough beginning parts, I can almost guarantee that you’ll begin to see a happier, more confident version of your lover emerge.

Beyond the “loss” experience, there’s the matter of your own private identity to attend to. If you’re queer, you’ve probably struggled a bit to come to that conclusion; you may have lost friends, fought with your family, broken a couple hearts, and spent a real long time choosing the words you use to identify with. If you identify as a lesbian, chances are, you’re proud of it; and if your partner is now a man, chances are, you’re facing a crisis. If you’re straight, dating a trans person is just as earth-shattering because you, my friend, are about to lose the heterosexual privilege that you have carried with you unknowingly every day of your life.

Can you continue identifying the way you always have? Probably—but be very conscious of how you do it. You don’t want to accidentally cause your transgender partner pain or offense. Be aware that this is probably even harder on your partner. Never, ever disregard their identity in order to cling to your own; it’s okay to acknowledge both. Go ahead and say you’re a lesbian dating a man—educate someone by example. Over time, you may begin to consider adopting a more fluid label, and you may even develop a strong sense of pride in your role in the trans world (I was a lesbian once too, you know!). Generally speaking, if your partner is transitioning, you are too. Embrace it. You’re about to have a wonderful experience. And remember—you’re not alone! We’re here!

When A Partner Transitions: Part One: Questions

I can TOTALLY say everything I want to say about this topic in four hundred words… Ha. This is going to be my first ever double post. Just promise to pick up my book someday.

Last week, we figured out that your sexual identity hinges largely on the gender identity of the people you date. So—what happens when your long-term partner comes out as transgender? Do you have to use the new pronoun all the time? Will you still be able to be physically intimate in the same way, or will that change too? Now that your partner’s come out as transgender, do you have to come out as something else? What is that even called? What if you’re comfortable with the label you’re already using, and don’t want to change it—is that okay?

Funny story—the answers to these, and the million other questions going through your head, are different for every single person. Surprise! No two transitions are the same. Each starting point is different, each ending point is different (Hormones? Surgery? Name change? Just a haircut?), and each individual journey has about as many factors and variables attached as a human life can possibly have. A trans person could opt for a whole bunch of surgery, or they could be perfectly happy with a wardrobe change. Your partner might “go stealth” and try to “pass” as a biological male or female all the time; your partner may also go the “trans pride” route, and tell anyone and everyone about what transitioning is like. There are also, of course, a million in-between scenarios. In each case, you are going to have to make some compromises—but remember, nothing happens overnight.

The bottom line with this is, you’re going to have to talk to your partner— a lot. The word “transgender” is a lot like “Christian” or “Democrat” in that lots of people use it, but it means something different to everyone, and no one aspect of the concept is guaranteed to be real to any given person who claims the label. The only never-fail rule for dating a trans person is this: to stay with your partner, you’ll have to accept this new aspect of their identity. You will have to have some long, honest conversations, and you will have to compromise—and you WILL make some mistakes. Let it happen. You’re both new at this; you’re trying, and your partner will appreciate that.

Dating a transgender person is tricky; part two of this post (which is already scheduled to post, yay planning ahead!) gets more into the potential difficulties. Stay tuned…

Dating 101

Mainstream heterosexual dating is pretty straightforward; boy meets girl. Queer dating is more complicated because queer people tend to identify themselves based on who they date. Thus, every time you enter into a relationship (or even find someone attractive), the words you use to identify yourself may change.

This whole defining-your-identity-by-who-you-date thing is no trouble at all for someone on either end of the Kinsey scale (i.e., straight or gay); it’s the rest of us, in the middle, that have trouble with it. Say you identify as bisexual, but are committed to a woman and present yourself as a man. Anyone who sees you with your partner assumes that you are a heterosexual guy. If you correct the assumption, a whole bunch of other ones—that you’re cheating on her, etc—are quickly and inevitably made. This phenomenon—bisexual invisibility—is just the tip of the iceberg of problems that arise from using the gender binary to define who we date.

Last week we talked about how no two women have the exact same gender; thus, no two people you’ve dated have had the exact same gender, although you probably have a certain “type” (tomboys, athletes, etc). Sooner or later, you figure out your type, and use that fact to choose the binary words you identify with—gay, straight, bisexual. But what if you realize your “type” isn’t about boy or girl, but about something else? Maybe you’re attracted to artists regardless of gender; maybe you’re specifically attracted to androgyny (the melding of feminine and masculine traits). When this is true, you aren’t attracted to people who fit into the girl-boy binary; thus, using words that adhere to this binary doesn’t do your personal identity justice. Tough, right? To express yourself more completely, you can use labels that acknowledge and support the fluidity of gender. The word “pansexual,” for example, essentially takes bisexuality to the next step, and means the person is open to dating men, women, and transfolk. I like to identify using the word “queer” because all it really means is I’m not heterosexual; thus, if I date a woman for a while, a transman, and then a biological man, my label doesn’t have to change.

Speaking of which, here’s the real monkey wrench: if identity hinges on attraction, what happens to your identity when your partner’s changes? If your lesbian lover comes out as a man, can you still be in a lesbian relationship? I love this one—I’ve seen it several times now, and have a couple stories to share with you next week!