Today, let us remember the lives of transgender people lost out of hatred and fear.
The list is long again this year.
As countless gay folks promise us that 'it gets better', let us pause to remember those whose lives were ended before they could; those who were the target of violence because they were living authentically.
For me, as a daughter, I think of the loved ones left asking, 'Why?'. The tear-stained cheeks of daughters, siblings, parents, sons, partners, friends. The heartache and the memories, the anger and fear. The feeling of helplessness in the face of severe injustice.
In honor of our transgender loved ones and all those who have died,
Let us find the space to heal.
Let us find the courage to stand up as allies.
Let us find the strength to build a more just world. For all of us.
Showing posts with label Trans Day of Remembrance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trans Day of Remembrance. Show all posts
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Transgender Day of Remembrance
Thursday, November 20th was the Transgender Day of Remembrance. GLAAD asked people to answer the question "What does Transgender Day of Remembrance mean to you?" Here is my response:
During the Transgender Day of Remembrance service, we are reminded – these people are children, siblings, parents, friends, and lovers. As we read the names, I think of the mother mourning her transgender child’s death, the brother who will never understand how someone could take his sibling’s life. There is a small child whose parent committed suicide, an adult whose parent died because the doctors refused treatment. I don’t know their names, but anti-transgender violence has taken their family members.
In this moment, I find sadness. In this moment, I find rage.
Then, my thoughts turn to the transgender people in my life. I picture my father and her partner, the peaceful life they have pieced together in the small town surrounded by mountains. Grateful that they have a place to live, that she has a job. They are less vulnerable than many of those on the TDoR list, but still the fear creeps in. I could be that family member, holding a picture at the vigil. This year, I am not. I say a little prayer that my loved ones – family and friends – live free from violence.
In this moment, I find sadness. In this moment, I find rage.
While marching through San Francisco’s Tenderloin neighborhood, I meet a woman whose name could have been on the memorial list. She tells me her story of surviving stab wounds and being left at Ocean Beach, of the children who found her there, of her recovery just two years ago. And she is marching next to me, holding a candle just like mine.
In this moment, I find perseverance. In this moment, I find hope.
May this compassionate rage fuel our collective efforts to recreate a world where people live free from violence and discrimination.
During the Transgender Day of Remembrance service, we are reminded – these people are children, siblings, parents, friends, and lovers. As we read the names, I think of the mother mourning her transgender child’s death, the brother who will never understand how someone could take his sibling’s life. There is a small child whose parent committed suicide, an adult whose parent died because the doctors refused treatment. I don’t know their names, but anti-transgender violence has taken their family members.
In this moment, I find sadness. In this moment, I find rage.
Then, my thoughts turn to the transgender people in my life. I picture my father and her partner, the peaceful life they have pieced together in the small town surrounded by mountains. Grateful that they have a place to live, that she has a job. They are less vulnerable than many of those on the TDoR list, but still the fear creeps in. I could be that family member, holding a picture at the vigil. This year, I am not. I say a little prayer that my loved ones – family and friends – live free from violence.
In this moment, I find sadness. In this moment, I find rage.
While marching through San Francisco’s Tenderloin neighborhood, I meet a woman whose name could have been on the memorial list. She tells me her story of surviving stab wounds and being left at Ocean Beach, of the children who found her there, of her recovery just two years ago. And she is marching next to me, holding a candle just like mine.
In this moment, I find perseverance. In this moment, I find hope.
May this compassionate rage fuel our collective efforts to recreate a world where people live free from violence and discrimination.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Resources GO and Mo
I'm still getting used to having a blog, so I will keep updating it as I remember. I had a great weekend in San Fran, which has me feeling grounded here for the moment. Of course, my flight back east for the holidays is next week. The intentionality with which I'm treating December seems to be working. This city is certainly good for manifesting intentions.
A few of my KOT-related intentions were realized this week. One was to create an email list specifically for people with transgender parents. Another was to update the list of Transgender Family Resources on the COLAGE website. I created this survey to collect the stories and advice of folks with transgender parents for the resource guide. If you or someone you know fits the bill, it's not too late to fill it out. I'll even send you a little thank you package. The amazing thing about networking is that it really does work. I emailed the survey to all of my contacts and for the last month or so I've been receiving a multitude of KOT experiences in my inbox. I remember a time when I was sure that my sister and I were the only ones. What a pleasure it's been to prove myself wrong.
I'm beginning to write the actual resource guide, which is really daunting, but will be my main focus for the next few months. Meredith reminded me today that I am an expert. The challenge of creating the content is in articulating what I know into the form of a resource guide for youth. This is the culmination of years of research and activism, so it's hard to push it all out. Not as much a birthing process as my thesis... maybe it's easier with the second one; i'm used to carrying the weight from the first time. This feels more like I'm birthing Joanna Newsom - "I wasn’t born of a whistle, or milked from a thistle at twilight./ No; I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright." This resource guide will be ready to walk as soon as it's printed. We've been waiting; all of us.
In other news, FAIR (Fairness and Accuracy In Reporting) published a critical review of transgender coverage in the media. There has been a good deal of progress in terms of humanized, rather than sensationalized, coverage of transgender people, who now appear on Larry King instead of Jerry Springer. There is still a fixation on "the operation", whether people have had it or not.
I've never liked this question, which comes up when I disclose to someone that my father is a transwoman. "So, has he..er..she had the surgery?" When I'm feeling bold, I respond, "How would you like it if I asked about your parent's genitalia?" Most times, I calmly explain that she lives as a woman and that I'm really not interested in discussing the operation. This question bothers me for the obvious (i don't want to think about my parent's genitals), but the FAIR article reminds me of the other reasons. Why are those hung up on the gender binary so fixated on this miraculous surgery? They assume that there are only two sexes and in order to become a woman, you would need to lose your penis. (God forbid the media include a narrative other than the upper/middle-class white MTF transsexual.) Gender is a spectrum. Genitalia does not necessarily determine gender identity. Stop talking about the operation. It is none of your business.
It is always encouraging when some one else publishes something you'd been wishing anybody would say. FORGE published a list of SOFFAs who were victims of transphobia in honor of this year's Transgender Day of Remembrance. Loree Cook-Daniels has written a great deal about the role of SOFFAs in the trans community and she reflects on the impact of transphobia here. She is becoming one of my heroes.
I attended the SF Trans Day of Remembrance event with my boyfriend while he was visiting over Thanksgiving. (He is not in the photo from the Sentinel.) The intersections of my SOFFA identity were tangible on November 20th. Earlier that day, I wrote this piece from a KOT perspective. Then, I met up with K for the event at the LGBT center, visible as the SO of a transman. We saw Jamison Green speak, which is always a treat. After the vigil was over, I approached him to say hello. We had met this spring at IFGE and talked about his daughter. I've been trying to get her involved in KOT stuff, but it seems she's not interested. Maybe I wouldn't be either if my parent were a professional transgender activist. Well, my dad has taught me some things about transgender issues and activism, but she leaves the conference going and organizing to me.
I never said this wasn't complicated.
Today, though, it feels pretty good to be a super SOFFA.
A few of my KOT-related intentions were realized this week. One was to create an email list specifically for people with transgender parents. Another was to update the list of Transgender Family Resources on the COLAGE website. I created this survey to collect the stories and advice of folks with transgender parents for the resource guide. If you or someone you know fits the bill, it's not too late to fill it out. I'll even send you a little thank you package. The amazing thing about networking is that it really does work. I emailed the survey to all of my contacts and for the last month or so I've been receiving a multitude of KOT experiences in my inbox. I remember a time when I was sure that my sister and I were the only ones. What a pleasure it's been to prove myself wrong.
I'm beginning to write the actual resource guide, which is really daunting, but will be my main focus for the next few months. Meredith reminded me today that I am an expert. The challenge of creating the content is in articulating what I know into the form of a resource guide for youth. This is the culmination of years of research and activism, so it's hard to push it all out. Not as much a birthing process as my thesis... maybe it's easier with the second one; i'm used to carrying the weight from the first time. This feels more like I'm birthing Joanna Newsom - "I wasn’t born of a whistle, or milked from a thistle at twilight./ No; I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright." This resource guide will be ready to walk as soon as it's printed. We've been waiting; all of us.
In other news, FAIR (Fairness and Accuracy In Reporting) published a critical review of transgender coverage in the media. There has been a good deal of progress in terms of humanized, rather than sensationalized, coverage of transgender people, who now appear on Larry King instead of Jerry Springer. There is still a fixation on "the operation", whether people have had it or not.
I've never liked this question, which comes up when I disclose to someone that my father is a transwoman. "So, has he..er..she had the surgery?" When I'm feeling bold, I respond, "How would you like it if I asked about your parent's genitalia?" Most times, I calmly explain that she lives as a woman and that I'm really not interested in discussing the operation. This question bothers me for the obvious (i don't want to think about my parent's genitals), but the FAIR article reminds me of the other reasons. Why are those hung up on the gender binary so fixated on this miraculous surgery? They assume that there are only two sexes and in order to become a woman, you would need to lose your penis. (God forbid the media include a narrative other than the upper/middle-class white MTF transsexual.) Gender is a spectrum. Genitalia does not necessarily determine gender identity. Stop talking about the operation. It is none of your business.
It is always encouraging when some one else publishes something you'd been wishing anybody would say. FORGE published a list of SOFFAs who were victims of transphobia in honor of this year's Transgender Day of Remembrance. Loree Cook-Daniels has written a great deal about the role of SOFFAs in the trans community and she reflects on the impact of transphobia here. She is becoming one of my heroes.
I attended the SF Trans Day of Remembrance event with my boyfriend while he was visiting over Thanksgiving. (He is not in the photo from the Sentinel.) The intersections of my SOFFA identity were tangible on November 20th. Earlier that day, I wrote this piece from a KOT perspective. Then, I met up with K for the event at the LGBT center, visible as the SO of a transman. We saw Jamison Green speak, which is always a treat. After the vigil was over, I approached him to say hello. We had met this spring at IFGE and talked about his daughter. I've been trying to get her involved in KOT stuff, but it seems she's not interested. Maybe I wouldn't be either if my parent were a professional transgender activist. Well, my dad has taught me some things about transgender issues and activism, but she leaves the conference going and organizing to me.
I never said this wasn't complicated.
Today, though, it feels pretty good to be a super SOFFA.
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