Trans*forming Mom did a similar post on her blog, so I asked if I could do a “Five Things” post too and she said “Sure!,” so here I am. Also, trigger warnings for transphobia and transphobic violence.
(Karen, you probs shouldn’t let your son read this unless he’s in a very stable mental state today.)
So this is a highly emic perspective, and it’s not a pretty one. We’re scared all the time; our language usually doesn’t even acknowledge our existence; laws are structured, sometimes out of malice but most often out of negligence, so that it’s almost impossible for us to exist without committing crimes. I almost don’t want to publish this; it’s that grim. But if nobody knows, how will it ever change?
As you can see, I’ve changed my blog theme. It was good while it lasted, but as this blog evolved from the personal to the academic (as it seems do all things I touch), I needed a more professional theme; the notepad and the bright colors started to seem a bit childish. I may add a tasteful photo in semi-transparent pastels to the header or left gutter, but that’s a project for after classes settle down. However, I’ve found a program called FireAlpaca which has an interface much like MS Paint but a functionality about 50 times better, and my roommate has offered to let me borrow her drawing tablet. I’ve also just edited my About page and made a new page on gender-neutral pronouns. Due to a slight technical majority on my poll (and I would really appreciate it if more than 4 people voted on that in the next few days), I will probably create a separate poetry blog and convert my Poetry page to a link.
Now the bad news. I lost my flash drive. The one I had all my stuff from last year on. I can probably recover all or most of my coursework from my email, due to the Bryn Mawr custom of emailing papers to one’s professors, but all the creative writing is lost. This is mostly a very bad journal, but also a multi-page Homestuck fanfic, some assorted prose I cannot remember (I suspect most of it exists on my blog), the anti-Romney Catullus parody that I posted all over two Classics departments but am not sure I still have a hard copy of, and at least two very good sonnets that I wrote during The Episode after last fall break.
Also lost is all my research and notes for the ACT UP post. That’s about 10 pages of notes, at least, and it will take several hours to re-read and re-note all of that. I am really sorry to have to say this, but I don’t think I’ll be able to publish it until late September or early October. Guess I’ll have it done in time for Outweek, at least.
Instead, in the next few days I will write a post about what are 5 things I want cis people to know about transgender people. I got the idea from Trans*forming Mom (who is also the reason I currently have a binder). I’ll try not to repeat her too much. It won’t be a hard post to write; all the “research” is the time I’ve spent living as trans* on Tumblr and at school for the past year. I should have this posted for Monday.
My personal life:
I’m back at school, I don’t currently have a job because everybody thought that notifying me of times for shift signups was Somebody Else’s Responsibility, Dining Services can’t hire me for at least a week because (ironically) of a policy to prevent the kind of mishap that got me into this situation in the first place from happening to current frosh; and SEO applications don’t have a blank for preferred name. Meanwhile, I have no money, may not be able to fully pay my tuition (let alone buy textbooks), I gained 10 pounds and my binder is pinching me (and honestly I’m not sure whether it was really big enough in the first place, though it’s WAY better than a sports bra), and half my socks are about to sprout holes. The dining hall is still letting me swipe in for meals, though, and I can still get into my dorm (the doors lock automatically, and you get in with a swipe card, which can be deactivated). Also, both my professors and my dean are using my preferred name. I notified them via a short email, and they’re all cool.
I went through a workshop on navigating the job market, and discovered that a really good career option for me in the next 10 years might be managing organizations’ media presence. (I’m not changing my blog title yet, though.) I’m considering an independent double major in Classics and G&S studies. Or I may just switch to G&S in grad school and meanwhile get some kind of degree in business as well. (Classics, activism, and marketing: I still have the same basic career tracks as in 11th grade. Now how to combine the three….) In any case, there’s an on-campus job involving online education and media that I’m hoping to get, and I’m going to pitch it to the RenChoir that I could manage their media presence (and maybe get more than 2 dozen people to come to concerts) either for “feed me occasionally” or coffee money–almost like an internship for an independent consultant. (I can’t ask them for more than that, because they already have to hire a new director.)
It’s 11:30 pm and I have classes in less than 12 hours, so I should finish this post and go to bed, and hope that something works out. I will post again soon.
There once was a country that was due to host the next Winter Olympic Games. This nation had worked very hard to secure the games.
This nations leader saw it a matter of both national and personal pride. His nation was emerging from period of economic and political upheaval stemming from the collapse of its former imperial system and the resulting loss in prestige.
Due to various things such as having to spend most of August with my parents, not having time to go to the still-extant Philly chapter of ACT UP, and having to return a certain book to the library, the ACT UP tribute post is delayed until around early September. (Now I can stop feeling guilty about that and maybe make some other posts requiring less research in the meantime.)
"This is America and I can say what I want."
I stare intensely down at my salad, as if the perfect retort were hidden somewhere under the leaves and blue cheese dressing. My mother's voice is stubborn, laced with a proud defiance that one more often hears from the lips of rebellious teenagers. It's also a bit too loud for the polite restaurant setting, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat, embarrassment seeping in.