I came out at work, redux

Eight years ago, after a long buildup, I finally came out at work (an elementary school) as trans, and more specifically, non-binary. It was right after Trump had been elected, and before he took office. It feels like a long time ago now. Lots of new staff members have been hired since then; I don’t have reasons or avenues to come out to any of them.

Last week though, an opportunity arose. Er rather, I took something as an opportunity and ran with it. Trump has been elected again, hasn’t taken office yet. It’s a weird-feelings time, to say the least.

An email went out two weeks ago that a teacher wanted ALL STAFF to send her a photo from when they were in elementary school. I didn’t think much about it; I’ve participated in school-wide things from time to time over the years, to varying levels of satisfaction; at this point, I usually just opt out. The next day though, I passed the teacher in the hall and she said, “I need your photo!” I asked, “What is it for?” And she gestured toward the front entryway, saying it’d be posted there. Sure enough, there was a banner saying, “Once upon a time, we were kids too,” and really fun photos were already going up – kids in jumpers with frilly bibs, bob cuts, bowl cuts, polyester blouses with rounded collars…

My gears started turning and I asked my mom if I could stop by to look as some school photos after work. We had a nice bonding moment, looking through old stuff and laughing. I took a 5X7 of my kindergarten picture and also looked for photos from a few years later. Before and after my initial transition, from girl to tomboy, midway through 2nd grade.

In 1987, I was a kindergarten student at the school where I now work. As far as I can recall, I thought of myself as a girl. I looked and dressed like a girl and did girl things (whatever that means).

In 2nd grade, I made a new friend and never looked back. She looked like a boy, sat at the boys’ table, played with boys, and I was thrilled she made an exception for me. As more years went by, I skewed more and more masculine. Er, maybe it wasn’t that linear, but it definitely did start there.

I decided that I was going to submit both photos for the bulletin board. I asked the teacher to put them side by side, with the same number so it was clear they were the same person. (No one was identified by name – only number; maybe it is a guessing game.) She replied that she applauded my bravery and celebrated me, but I’d have to pick just one. That was the rule. If I picked the kindergarten photo, I imagined hardly anyone would know, and people would be shocked in the “reveal,” if that was what we were doing, if they were paying attention. I imagined if I picked the one of me as a bigger kid (guessing I’m 11 here?) people would easily guess, and what I was going for would be completely lost.

My response might have been a bit over the top; suddenly I was feeling very passionate about all this. I said,

“I’m sorry, but I can’t pare it down to just one.  This is one small, quiet way I choose to come out, for kids and the school community.

When I originally came out at school 8 years ago, I had to push hard, mostly against the principal at the time, to have my message received the way I intended.
I understand this is a fun way to share who we were as kids.  
I will gladly talk further with you in person.  I feel resolute about it.
Thanks,
Kameron”

My mind was churning through everything I had already gone through and everything I might have to go through to fight in the future. And will I have less to stand on down the road? As in very, very soon? This was going to have to happen now. It was a lot for a little while there.
Luckily, she replied that she understood and she would get both photos up.

They’re there, amongst about 70 other staff photos. These two are squished and elongated, because they were formatted to fit on one page, but that’s OK – they’re there. And if kids and adults are confused, there are other adults around who can fill in the story (I already heard one story about how this did happen.) I have a history at this school; it’s taken a lot out of me to feel comfortable here, and I only want to be even more out and visible, as opportunities arise.

It’s a conversation starter. A statement. And it’s already led to a chance for me to come out to my newest co-worker; I’ve wanted an in for about 4 months…

Backstory: Toward the end of the summer, we had to tackle a huge, last-minute task, involving lots of heavy lifting, moving, taking legs off tables, setting up desks, etc. I asked my co-worker if she could get started on it the night before a huge delivery – I’d be in first thing the next morning, filling in for my supervisor. She did a lot, and then I did a lot, and when we overlapped the next day, she relayed what she had done, but also how she had hurt her foot, and how she had not done as much as she projected. She said, “I’m not a man!.” And I replied, “I get that.” And she just sort of rolled her eyes at me. I wanted to say, “Here’s how much I get that – I’ve been both. I’ve been doing this job both without testosterone coursing through my veins and then also with this magic muscle elixir making aches and pains vanish out of thin air, everything suddenly lighter, more stamina, shifted center of gravity allowing me to get a whole lot more out of my whole body everything suddenly easier, more tolerable, more doable.” I could have ranted on and on. The differences are huge. But, in the moment, I didn’t, didn’t say anything further, because I didn’t know her well enough yet and although I’d be more comfortable with more people knowing, in theory, there’s always a risk. I let the moment pass.

When I told her last week though, in the context of this bulletin board fun guessing game, she was completely shocked (which always boggles my mind a little!) and very supportive, connecting super hard with me and even sharing that her sister is a transwoman and showing me pictures. And just being with me as I relayed the tiny drama that was getting 2 photos on the board because I wanted to tell a story.

I’m going to continue telling this story whenever it comes up or makes sense to share.


The Future of Queer People in the Janitorial Field

I got an email from a reader named Ike the other day. They said,

“hi there! found this site killing time before my shift as a fill in custodian for the NYCSSS and it was about exactly what i was looking for lol. I wish my question was more close ended, but basically, what do you think is the future for being queer in a field like this? At the moment, i have only worked alongside someone else even close to my age once (just turned 20), and other than one OTHER person, its pretty much been 30-50 year old cis men on the job. Why don’t queer youth see this is a possible job i guess, even for a summer like i’m doing it. And is it bound to change? As being queer becomes more normalized, will the next generation of janitors be more evenly diverse in that way? And is that even necessarily something wanted? Nothing against being a custodian i’ve actually enjoyed it a lot, but i feel most of my generation has big plans for their future, and being a custodian is very much a local service. Hope you’re well 🙂 “

And it gave me a lot to think about!

I also started in this field at age 20, first on a paint crew for the summers and then as a fill-in cleaner and later full-time.  At that time, I also had a hard time because no one else was my age (they were on the paint crew, but not once I started working as a cleaner).  I considered going into food service or retail instead so that I could work with younger people and maybe even make friends through work.  I also thought that since I went to college, this can’t be enough; I should be looking for bigger things.  And I think being visibly queer was a big factor in thinking about all this stuff as well.  Things seemed more limited because I wasn’t willing or able to conform.  I wanted to be out and loud and proud, but I also very much wanted to be safe and protected and to stay in control.  A public-facing job with other people my age was appealing for those reasons, but it also seemed like it was going to be way too much of a drain, knowing how introverted and sensitive to stimuli I tend to be. And so I stayed where I was, sometimes just by default, and grappled with doubts that it was the right choice.

Now, 22 years later, I am so glad that I did stick with this line of work.  I found peers and community through other avenues, and work is very much compartmentalized, in a good way. I get great health benefits, an annual raise I can count on, insane amounts of paid time off, and an actual pension when I retire. At this rate, I will be able to retire at age 55, which is starting to become a little bit unheard of these days.

I’ve definitely worked with a lot of older cis men, but over the years, I’ve also worked with many women, people of color, and immigrants from all over the world, including Eritrea, Poland, Barbados, The Philippines, Macedonia, Jamaica, Taiwan, and other countries. And now that I’m older, I’ve even worked with some younger people on occasion; I wasn’t the only one!

As far as queer people going into this line of work, and the trades even more so (plumbing, electricians, HVAC, etc.) though, it can definitely be an upward battle. When there’s a pre-scripted culture of homophobia, misogyny, racism, it can feel confining and stifling, to say the least. It can be flat out dangerous. It most certainly depends on the individual people and whether they’re willing to bend and change. It helps to be in a union. It helps even more to be within a school, in a liberal state and town. I have a lot of protections at work. I have to wear a uniform shirt, but otherwise I can wear whatever I want and look however I want to. The bathroom is a non-issue, my name and pronouns and honorifics are what I say they are. If I were being made to feel uncomfortable, there are a number of channels I could go through – my supervisor, the principal, the union. It might not be sorted out perfectly (from experience, it never is!) but at least there are structures in place, and I have felt supported where it matters.

I sincerely do hope that as being queer becomes more normalized, these standards will spread outwardly into some of the more traditionally masculine fields than the one that I am in. I hope things are bound to change! These types of fields offer stability, decent pay and benefits, upward mobility, and lots of autonomy and opportunities for job satisfaction. When I think about other lines of work that people can get into without much experience or education – food service, retail, piecing together a living through the gig economy – it sounds draining with lots of hustling and scrambling involved. If someone calls out last minute, you might be called in on a day off. If customers are rude, you do your best to absorb it or shield yourself from it. You might have to be potentially available or on call way more than 40 hours a week in order to piece together enough money for that week. The work ebbs and flows; many factors are unpredictable. These statements are all just coming from personal opinion, for sure. It’s all about finding the right fit, and for many people, especially younger people who might be more transitory and looking for temporary situations, these areas of work can be a great fit. For me, it’s been about stability, predictability, independence, and low-stress environments.

I do feel like being a cleaner is a secret dream job, a hidden gem.  Too many people might not even consider it because of the low social status.  And/or the “yuck” factor.  Or it’s just too menial and repetitive. They might even think the work is degrading. I struggled with some of this when I was starting out. Especially because I was working in schools that I had attended, just a few years prior, and was running into teachers and personnel who had know me as a high-achieving student. I even remember thinking (and this is a bit embarrassing) that I was too beautiful (I was fabulous and queer!) to be hidden away at a 1pm-9:30pm shift all by myself with no one around to appreciate my style! Haha.

And so I got out more. I used the late nights to my advantage. I did drag, I saw local bands, I became someone who is seen and known out-and-about. And that’s totally separate from my job, which has its own set of perks – I just listen to music and podcasts all day. I get daily exercise. And I finish with enough time to sit down and get some reading done. All the work stays at work.

If younger queer people are feeling a bit aimless after finishing their education (I know I did!), or are overlapping their school and work life, it would make sense they might be looking into temp work or nothing they have to invest too much into. Being a cleaner can definitely be that, but on top of it, if it’s a government job, it has stability and longevity incentives built into it, so if you just keep finding yourself still there (I did!) it might pay off in the long run! And it’s important to keep dreaming big; having a regular day job (or night job) can really help that inspiration flow, even if that seems counterintuitive. If basic needs are being met without too much effort, the sky’s the limit for what else is possible!


Ten year anniversary of this blog!

Ten years ago, today, I started “janitorqueer.” I wanted to write about being queer, specifically genderqueer, and about being a janitor. Mostly though, I wanted to find and connect with others who had similar stories. I wanted to be on testosterone long-term, but I was afraid that it was going to do irreversible “damage” to my body and my life. And before that stage, I was so afraid of even just trying to access testosterone as someone who is nonbinary. I was looking for other people who had traversed that frontier specifically of low-dose testosterone, so low that no one could detect anything going on at all. In the process though, that end goal changed, and my fear of being detected drastically shifted. I am now out in all areas of my life, and I like being pretty loud about it if the opportunity arises. I found other people trying to walk this thin tightrope, but more importantly, I found many many others who dance under this broad umbrella of transgender experiences, and I learned so much from all of these peoples’ writings, more than anything else.

I used to spend 2-3 hours a day reading and commenting on blogs. At the time, it directly fed my soul. And I would write! Write so much, at least once a week, during my “heyday,” which I’ll quantify as being between summer of 2013, and spring of 2018. What changed? Probably a combination of finally feeling comfortable in my skin, and shifting my writing energies toward a memoir. And also going back to my roots of journaling. Been doing a lot of journaling. I don’t think I’ll ever return to this blog with the fervor I once had, but this blog will remain open and public; that I am sure of.

In that first entry I wrote, back on July 24, 2013, entitled “low-dose testosterone for the rest of my life,” I chronicled how being on testosterone had been going so far.

I wrote,

“About 4 months ago, I started a low-dose testosterone adventure.  I wanted to take testosterone long term while ideally, not going through any physical changes.  I didn’t know whether this would be possible, and I still have yet to find any information about whether it’s possible, specifically.  I largely feel comfortable with where I’m at in terms of gender presentation and expression.  But I’d been wondering a lot if certain internal experiences could be better.  Gradually, I found myself in a place where I realized, I need to try out a few things and see what works for me.  I got on a really low dose of Androgel and was completely floored by how well my body seemed to connect with additional testosterone.  To me, it feels like it has a whole lot more to do with my mental health than it does with my gender identity, but of course, it’s all intertwined.  As of now, I plan to be on testosterone for the rest of my life if possible, while minimizing physical changes.  I’m taking testosterone toward androgyny.  Although, I’m already androgynous, so I hope to be transitioning (outwardly) toward more of the same, actually.” (If you wanna read the whole post, it is here: https://janitorqueer.com/2013/07/24/low-dose-testosterone-for-the-rest-of-my-life/ ).

What is striking to me now, is this dreadful fear of changing. It clearly was about a coming-out process, but I would not have framed it that way for you at the time. I wrote, about some physical changes I was hoping to dampen, “Other subtle changes have plateaued out, and I stopped worrying so much that I was going to have to choose between coming out in new ways to people I that didn’t really want to come out to, or stopping this thing that I was falling in love with, internally.” I would have said I don’t want to come out because there’s nothing to come out about, at least nothing that makes sense for me in society as it is now. Looking back, that fear had me patrolling my own body in some strange ways. I’m so much louder, fancy-free, and out and proud these days. (Still do patrol my body a bit – don’t want to go bald! but there’s so much more room for my body to just be, now.)

body, just being, fancy free (from 2 days ago!)

I didn’t know I was going to end up wanting to try all types of doses of testosterone. I didn’t know I’d want to stop and start and stop and start with such (ir)regularity. I didn’t know I’d end up wanting some of the external masculinizing changes. I didn’t know I had the capacity for happiness I now inhabit. If someone had told me I could one day be happy, I would have said, “sure, I guess, this is some version of happiness.” I found something different.

I haven’t written about being a janitor as much as I thought I would. I think that mostly has to do with uncertainty about work stuff, online. But there is one thing I’ve never said about it, and it’s me all the way, so I figure why not? I have never had any career aspirations (outside of being a little kid, when we all do! I wanted to be an artist and a marine biologist). The only other job I could ever envision myself doing is a postal carrier. Except I don’t want to drive the truck; in my fantasy it’s exclusively on foot. Earlier today, I uncovered something I wrote in my journal from March 18, 2003 (twenty years ago! And coincidentally, exactly 10 years later from that date was the first time I tried testosterone!)

I said,

“There’s not much I’m capable of doing right now. I did none of the work for [school] over break, and today in class when we were discussing, I wanted to hurt myself badly. Then I went straight over to the counseling center to see if I could talk to [my counselor] today instead of tomorrow. She’s booked. I want to go home for the rest of the semester. I want to feel safe and secure until this passes.
The reason I want to get a manual labor type job is because I’m at risk of being blocked for an extended period of time. And any sort of brain type job, I’m not always able to do. A manual labor job would be consistent and no brain function working not working. I don’t know how to handle brain right now. This is the second time this has happened so badly. The first time, I truly was severely depressed. I’m depressed now but am able to manage it better. Better at faking, but I’m not doing anything for real. I don’t care about anything. I want to drop out of school. I won’t let myself just lay there, because I know how painful that is. But I can’t get myself to do anything either.
Yesterday I was going to do my midterm. I’m not going to do it anymore. What I did get done is crap. My brain is simply not working in any sort of organized manner. And I’m getting so sick of pretending like I can function. I’m also getting so sick of not functioning.”

At that time, I had been working for my former school district in the summers, on the “paint crew,” mostly painting classrooms and fulfilling more specified work orders.  Somehow, I instinctively knew I would/should continue pursuing something similar, as opposed to any career that involved working with others or using my brain to generate good work. I continue to experience “brain function working not working,” all the time – sometimes I can watch complex television shows and listen to dense podcasts and read for fun when I have down time. Other times, all I can muster is staring off into space for extended periods of time. And move. All I can do is keep my body moving, for that forward momentum I need to maintain my stability. This job I have been doing for 19 years now, this cleaning at an elementary school, ends up being a near-perfect fit. It is heavily routine-based, but it doesn’t have to be – that’s up to me. I don’t have to interact or collaborate with anyone, usually. Just doing my own thing, getting exercise, finding various ways to entertain myself. I envision myself retiring from this gig.

Long live being a janitor. Long live being queer.


Ten years on testosterone (and also off, on, back off/on, etc.)

Prior to finally trying testosterone, ten years ago today, I was stressing so hard about whether to do it or not. Perseverating for years, really. If I could go back to that younger version of myself, I’d say, “Just try the dang thing! It doesn’t have to mean anything in particular, as far as identity, and you’ll probably fairly quickly know whether it’s something to continue to pursue or not. And if not, no harm done!”

And if yes, then, wow, yea, the benefits have exceeded my wildest dreams. It ended up being a lot more complicated than yes or no; that was apparent from the outset. I continue to fall somewhere in the middle with it; there are lots of nuanced layers that go into changing it up, frequently: internal experiences, changes I’m ambivalent about, identity. Until very recently, I felt compelled to document every time I went back off or on testosterone, and what doses / methods I was using. These past few months, I did go back off of it, after my longest stretch yet of being on injections, and although I’m mentioning it here now, I might not anymore moving forward. It all evens out. It’s never very long of being one way or another. I like that space that comes with this approach, and as the years go by, there feels like less distinction between this “being one way or another.” Being either off or on feels like it’s blurring together a little more, and I’m into that! Definitely never completely – some experiences are very much testosterone induced, or lack thereof as my body readjusts and other hormones come more to the forefront.

I feel like keeping this relatively short; details abound in older entries. I feel celebratory. To commemorate the occasion, I did some recreation photos. Here they are:

pre-T
Ten years!
One Year
Ten Years!
pre-T
Ten Years!

Addressing hate mail

I got some hate mail yesterday, and decided to respond.

Anonymous asked,

Why the fuck are you doingvthis [sic] to yourself and causing other people to follow you. [sic]

The main reason I’m doing “this” to myself is because I value the quality of my life. I’m just going to have to venture a guess about what “this” is, based on the contents of this blog: taking testosterone, getting top surgery, changing my name and pronouns, being a janitor, being a writer, being out and open about being nonbinary… hmm, what else is this blog about? Going to therapy. Taking psychotropic medications. Being open about mental health struggles. Umm… wearing t-shirts. Talking about portrayals of trans people and characters in the media. Sometimes I’ve mentioned going on vacation or important things going on in my community.

If I were to narrow it down to the most controversial topics, it’d probably be taking testosterone, getting top surgery, and being open about those things. I do these things to myself because when I was not doing those things, my life was fairly hellish. And so I tried, very tentatively at first, a little bit of this. And things started to vastly improve, all around me, relatively quickly. So I was able to determine it was most likely a cause and effect relationship. So I tried a little bit more. And then more and more. But since I’m not a binary person, I also had to try less, and also stop and start and feel it out. But as far as being open and documenting the journey, I did not have to back off or stop – it was all forward momentum and connecting with others and learning from others and sharing with others, and the more I came out, in all areas of my life, the better the entire world got. And I’m not just talking about things like a promotion or going on a cruise or accruing more material possessions. I’m talking about a deep connection with who I actually am which radiates outward and fulfills so many of the ways I always thought I was falling short, missing out, and avoiding what could be. So, yea, I’d say that doing “this” to myself has been extremely worthwhile.

And to address the second part of your question, I’m not actually causing other people to follow me. Fortunately, I don’t hold that much power over others. Other people get to do whatever they will with their lives, and if that includes looking online for information or connection or to relate to others’ experiences, then that’s pretty cool. I’d have to categorize that as more of a symbiotic correlation as opposed to a causation.

And I also just want to note that when I say, “follow,” I just mean literally clicking “follow” on this blog so that they can stay up to date about when I next post. I don’t mean, “follow” in any cultish, fervent, collecting “followers” to do my bidding and do whatever I am doing or say they should be doing type of way. That would feel highly uncomfortable.

If you are interested in “following” other people who are out as nonbinary on the internet and who also like to address people who send them hate mail, my spouse recommends the following:

ALOK on instagram

Jeffrey Marsh on instagram


Laura Jane Grace and Her Dysphoria Hoodie

On Wednesday, a friend posted on social media that he had an extra ticket to go see singer/songwriter/trans icon/punk rocker Laura Jane Grace in the next town over, and did anyone want to take him up on it? My first reaction was, “Oh wow! I would love to see her!” Followed by, “Damn, I have to work, like always.” (I work till 9:30pm – not conducive to having much of an evening social life.) The more I thought about it though, the more I was like, “Well wait! I have all kinds of time I could use. Why don’t I just be freaking spontaneous for once and do this thing?”

I’m so glad I did! The show was the following night, and it was beyond incredible, on many levels.

One of the levels: Today, serendipitously, marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Against Me!’s debut album, Reinventing Axl Rose. From reading Laura Jane Grace’s, memoir (Tranny: Confessions of Punk Rock’s Most Infamous Anarchist Sellout), this was not Against Me!’s first release, but I’m not sure how you would find the earlier stuff, mostly dubbed cassette tapes and a poorly recorded 12″ EP. There are two more well known early EPs: they contain some of the earlier versions of songs that found their way onto this first LP… So back to Reinventing Axl Rose: This album had a huge impact on me. The brother of the person I was seeing at the time (2003), handed me a CD copy he had burned, along with a handwritten note of the tracklisting. In general, his taste in music was super obscure, but not quite what I was into, so I was a little dubious. But damn, listen to this record! – It’s one of the most solid, versatile punk albums of all time. It has everything: anarcho-inspired lyrics, syncopated dance beats, both electric and acoustic guitars mixed with rough around the edges production, anthemic sing-alongs, growling and grimy vocals, and it even ends with a lullaby (“8 Full Hours of Sleep”). All eleven songs are so incredibly solid. And it was recorded over 2 days, for $800, which makes it all the more impressive. This album reminds me of being 21, mostly alone, trying to muster the energy to do anything. It reminds me of the guy who gave me the CD, and all the times he picked me up in his lilac colored Chevy Prizm to go grocery shopping together, and then maybe even also make dinner together and watch a movie, barely having much to say to each other, but just enjoying the music.

Laura Jane Grace came out as trans in 2012, and she continued on in Against Me! but also struck out on her own, playing acoustic shows. Since the pandemic, I’ve wandered into a handful of local shows, but this was the first big intentional show I’ve been to in the roughly 2 years. What a joyous return! There were so many queer and trans kids there, right up front and center, singing along to every lyric, even to the songs that are now 20 years old, possibly older than they were (I know from the X’s on their hands, when they threw their hands above their head, clapping along, or throwing a fist up into the air, that they were underage. My heart soared.) Older queer and trans people were there too, and punks, of course. She played 4 songs from that first album:

“Pints of Guinness Make You Strong”
“Those Anarcho Punks are Mysterious…”
“Reinventing Axl Rose”
“Baby, I’m an Anarchist!”

a crappy photo I took of her at the show, on my basic phone

On stage, she was magical: riffing in between songs, flashing her intensely crazy grin, sharing anecdotes from her life. She covered “Androgynous,” by The Replacements, a song I don’t actually like (I might get some hate comments for this, but I think Paul Westerberg is way overrated), but I liked when she did it; from her, it’s coming straight from her heart.

She had three new songs, one which involved a quick costume adjustment: she asked someone up front to hold her guitar, went offstage for a second, and came back with a shapeless black Adidas hoodie. She declared it her “dysphoria hoodie,” saying she’s had it for so long; she used to use it to hide her body. Said you don’t have to be trans to have a dysphoria hoodie; having body issues isn’t exclusively a trans thing, of course, but most trans people can probably relate so hard. She put it on, with the hood up, took the guitar back, and launched into this story-within-a-song. I’m not generally a lyrics oriented person, but with her, I want to know it all!

a crappy image of her, wearing the dysphoria hoodie, I took with my basic phone

Tried testosterone for the first time 8 years ago, today

Eight years is a long time! Trying T, even though I wasn’t at all sure I was going to like it, but positive I needed to at least see what it was like, was one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself.

For the first few years, it was a very fine line between feeling very connected to what it was doing for my inner world, versus not wanting any physical changes. I was microdosing, but even still, was on-and-off of it a few times. Later on, I did want some changes, but only up to a certain point, which led me right back to that pattern of being on-and-off. This is still the case – I’m currently off, with plans to go back on at some point (maybe summer?)

I continue to find myself right where I want to be, more so as the years go by. Here’s a description of an interaction I had yesterday that highlights how I’ve hit that sweet spot of in-betweenness:

I was trying to print out some photos at a store. One person started to help me, and then another person also came to help. The two co-workers were talking amongst themselves, referring to me, and one person was using, “he/him/his” and the other person was using, “she/her/hers.” Finally, the “she/her/hers” person got confused and just said, “Who?!” And the other person gestured toward me and said, “Him!” and simultaneously, I just said, “Me!” And no one did any back-pedaling, questioning, or apologizing, which was pretty much perfect.

Ideally, I’d like for everyone who has known me from before I started my transition, to get on board with my nonbinary identity. I realize this is a tall order, so for those people who can’t grasp the nuances, I’d prefer they defaulted to male, “he/him/his.” This isn’t the case across the board, but one can dream right? And then for those who are just getting to know me, I hope they’ll all get that I’m nonbinary, as much as there is space to have those conversations. And then as far as strangers go, I really revel in the mixture / confusion. That’s the best state for me to exist in.

To many more years!


Getting asked about surgeries

In general, I’ve felt relieved about how few times I, as a trans person, have been asked things I don’t want to answer. Variations on this scenario have come up twice in the past 2 months though. Blech!

#1: I’m taking part in an experimental study trial for a COVID-19 vaccine. At the end of May, I had a phone interview where they screened me to see if I was healthy enough to participate. Nothing came up about medications I’m on (other than specifics they were asking for), surgeries I’ve had, or anything else gender related. They assumed I’m male based on name and voice and didn’t ask about reproductive health. I did not disclose that I’m trans, and it didn’t come up. I really enjoyed that; it felt refreshing.

The in-person screening a few weeks later, was a totally different story. I was pretty prepared for that though, for having to explain that even though I have a uterus and ovaries and all that, I won’t be getting pregnant despite not using any birth control methods (that has more to do with who I have sex with, and less about being trans – I could be trans and still get pregnant…) I was prepared to do a urine test to screen for pregnancy, despite appearing male. I was prepared to talk about my hormone replacement therapy. I was not, however, prepared when the nurse followed these questions up with, “Have you had any surgeries?” because she asked it in a way that was totally different than how she would ask about any other category of surgery. It was in a sideways, sly, under-the-table kind of way that put me completely off. I replied, deadpan, “Is that information needed for the screening?” She replied, that, yes, they did need to note any major surgeries, to which I replied that I’ve had top surgery. She asked, “What is that?” and I replied, “A double mastectomy.” She wrote it down.

#2: My co-worker, after working together for 2 years, decided to pop the surgery question. She asked it completely out-of-the-blue, apropos of nothing. I guess, at least, she prefaced it with the ominous, “Can I ask you a personal question?” I replied that she could definitely ask, and I’ll decide if I wanna answer. Then I added that I probably would answer, because although I’m extremely private with stuff, at work, I am willing to open up if people are putting in the effort. When it was THAT question, however, I told her I wasn’t going to be answering it. I am glad she asked though, and told her as much, because it led to a long conversation in which I talked to her about a bunch of other things that have been long overdue for her to know about. Such as, I don’t actually identify as a man. She did not know this. She wanted to assert that she did know my identity and that it is a boy. I told her I don’t feel like I am either a man or a woman. Pretty sure that sank in for her. I also told her that my spouse is my “spouse” and not my “wife,” as she assumed, and that they use gender neutral pronouns. And that they also now look male, but don’t identify as such either.

We talked about what people assume based on appearance and a bunch of other stuff. She compared me to a temporary co-worker we had last summer, also trans, and how he was so open and friendly and he answered all her questions including her surgery questions. I bristled at this, but didn’t let it get to me. He and I have since become friends (although I didn’t say as much). He’s gonna be how he is, and I’m gonna be how I am. Although it was uncomfortable and difficult to steer her in the directions I wanted to go in, overall I feel like we got to a new place in our dynamic. I got to tell her that surgeries are actually not that important (or at least not important for others to know about) and other things are much more welcomed, in terms of questioning. Such as, how do you feel about ___________, and whatnot. She semi-argued about what was and was not important, and she also relayed information about her friend who is now named Susan. While talking in graphic detail about Susan’s body and how it is so much more stunningly vivacious than her body, she kept using male pronouns. I did not like where she was going with this at all. I just cut in to ask, “Wouldn’t Susan want you to be using “she” and “her” for her?” She replied that since she’s known Susan for forever, Susan doesn’t care. I’m really hoping it sank in, even just a little bit though.

I feel like I held my ground in both cases and stayed true to myself. Feels good to know these things can come up and not throw me way off, anymore.


The Out Alliance Saved My Life

Around this time, 20 years ago, I was experiencing suicidal ideation and debilitating depression, after being hospitalized for mania and psychosis.  The #1 stressor in my life was my sexual orientation (I hadn’t yet gotten to the gender identity part).  Two things saved me:  therapy, and regularly attending the youth group at the Out Alliance (called the GAGV – Gay Alliance of Genesee Valley, at the time).

Learning, yesterday, that the Out Alliance was folding and laying off all its employees hit me hard, both in a community-forward kind of way, and on a personal level.  We need the Out Alliance and the services it provides.  The board stated,  “We hope that this cessation in our services will be temporary and that, after reassessing and restructuring the organization, we will resume our vital mission, stronger than ever.”  Let’s hope this happens sooner than later.

I went to the youth group for the first time on March 15, 2000.  I was a painfully shy, sheltered, awkward, naive 18 year-old.  I wrote about it immediately afterward, in my diary:

“I was really nervous about going, but felt like it was something I had to do.  I got mom to drive me.  While I was there, I badly wanted to leave, but in retrospect, it doesn’t seem so bad.  We talked about dangers on the internet and stalkers.  I had nothing to contribute.  Dr. [Therapist] says that’s OK.  It was my first time.  Next Sunday might be better anyway.  There’s going to be pizza and a guest speaker on relationships.  Also, I noticed many bookshelves filled with books.  Maybe next time all the kids are outside smoking, I’ll go check them out.”

And it did get better.  I remained painfully shy and awkward.  I never did connect with the other kids or make any friends, but I went every single week from then until I left for college at the end of August.  At the time, the age limit was 19, but I asked if it could be extended to 22 because I still wanted to keep going.  The age got changed in the “rules of the group,” and I was so thrilled I had been heard.  I went sporadically when I could throughout my college years.

Gay Pride Parade, 2003

To back up, I started writing in a diary a year before attending the group, and my first entry starts out with a fantasy scenario in which I come out to a support group, 12-step style.

” ‘Hello.  My name is Katie.  And… I am a lesbian.’  ‘Hi Katie.’*  I’ve gone through this scenario hundreds of times.  I wish it were that easy.  I’d just walk into a gay / lesbian support group and come out.  I just can’t do it though; I haven’t told anyone.”

So actually attending and being around other LGBTQ+ people was HUGE for me, even if it was hard.  Probably largely because it was so hard.  Schools did not yet have Gay Straight Alliances.  The internet was, well, you know, it was the internet of 2000.  Which is to say I didn’t / couldn’t use it to find like-minded friends or look up information about sensitive subjects.  I was too ashamed to take out any books about LGBTQ+ topics from the library for fear of the library clerk looking at them and deducing that I was gay.  The information I would have found in those outdated books might have been more detrimental to my sense of self anyway.  I was most certainly internally homophobic.

To know that there was an organization that was out and loud and proud was a revelation.  I attended the Gay Pride Picnic that July, and was blown away by the number of people.  Who knew?!

It took a while, but the sense of belonging and the normalization of the gay experience grew on me.  I learned so much about safe sex and sex-positivity, LGBTQ+ portrayals in media, history, just a ton of feel-good stuff.  We watched movies, we went on outings as a group, and yes we even got to eat pizza.

Marching with youth group, 2003

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Huge shout-out to the facilitator at that time, Patty Hayes.  She changed my life.  I was so psyched to find that this 44 minute interview with her is out there on the internet!  (Interview conducted for the documentary, Shoulders to Stand On.  She has about 3 minutes of screen-time in the final product; here is the full interview):

Interview with Patty Hayes, former Youth Program Coordinator

The Out Alliance was there when I needed it, and I can honestly say it saved me from my own self-hatred, homophobia, and loneliness.  Now that there are so many more options and ways to learn and connect, so what?  It’s still very much needed.  Every city needs something like this.  It was a place to connect face-to-face and find role models and local resources.  A place of hope for kids in surrounding rural areas who could drive in and find out they’re not alone.  City and suburban kids too, of course.  Older people just coming out.  People who have been out for forever.  SOFFAs and allies.  It does, however, need to change with the times.  There were times where I railed against it, for being too normative, too playing-it-safe, not diverse enough.  

Hopefully their return will be swift, and well-thought out.  The former staff have laid out some demands:

  • Diversification of the board’s executive committee. They point out that the board is diverse but the executive committee members are all white and cisgender.
  • Selecting a person of color to serve as the next executive director, “to reflect the necessary changes the agency still needs to take.”
  • Making all board meetings open to the public and the minutes from those meetings accessible to the public.
  • Including dollar figures, not just percentages, in all future annual reports. The annual report for 2018 showed a dollar figure for contributions, but nothing else.
  • Changing agency bylaws to give the board greater oversight over the executive director and “veto power” over major spending and investment decisions.
  • Creating a mechanism for agency members and community members to weigh in on who sits on the board.

Sources:  CITY News article by Jeremy Moule
               Shoulders to Stand On, documentary film

*At the time, I thought my name was Katie and that I was a lesbian.  Now I know it’s actually Kameron, and that I’m a queer person.


6 recent LGBTQ+ films to check out

My spouse and I just attended the 27th annual LGBTQ+ film festival in our town, and we saw some pretty great films.  Overall, we both preferred the documentaries over the fictional narratives, but we did like all the ones we ended up picking out.  I’ve had a varied relationship with this festival over the years – when I was younger, I wasn’t sure I belonged, and it was just so thrilling to even be there at all.  I volunteered one year, and formed some lasting relationships through doing that.  Then I kind of shunned it for a few years, deciding I didn’t have time for it, and the ticket prices were too pricey.  In the past 4 years, I changed my tune and realized we are lucky to have this festival in our hometown, and we should make the most of it.  We pick out a handful of films each year now, and pre-pay (to get a slight discount).  I’d have to say that at this point, the novelty of being there as a super-fan has started to wear off, but I do still look forward to it each year, regardless…  here are the films we saw this time around (links are to film websites, trailers, or reviews):

Zen in the Ice Rift –  This was a narrative drama from Italy about a transmasculine teenager who is really just at the beginning of their journey into who they really are.  They’re on the boy’s hockey team (only because their town is so small and that’s the only option), are getting bullied, and are acting out a lot in response.  It was pretty hard to watch, but definitely well done – themes of victimization and violence, definitely a trope at this point.

The Ground Beneath My Feet – This one was from Austria, about a workaholic woman who’s sister has suffered yet another psychotic break and is hospitalized.  The woman starts to question her own sanity while trying to juggle all aspects of her super stressful life (a lesbian affair with her superior being only one small tendril of her falling-apart-life).  Really well done, edgy, gloomy thriller-drama.

Label Me – From Germany, this one was about a refugee from Syria who begins an ongoing money-for-sex relationship with a man who seems very well off and very isolated at the same time.  It gets interesting when the two men navigate that line between intimacy, sex, money, and everything else that falls in between.

Leave it to Levi – This was a documentary about a porn star who works exclusively with Cocky Boys.  It was just totally fun, but there was depth too, when the film explored his relationship with his mother and his forays into dressing in drag and going totally against the norm of the Macho Porn Star.

Gay Chorus Deep South – This documentary was full of heart.  The San Francisco Gay Men’s Choir toured 7 southern states in order to raise awareness of anti-LGBTQ+ laws that have been popping up in the wake of the 2016 election.  Along the way, we see some amazing personal stories of some of the chorus members, specifically from people who were born in the south and made it to the (relatively) safe haven of SF.

Changing the Game – By far, this one was our favorite.  So many strong emotions going on.  Between this one and Gay Chorus, I did a lot of crying!  This followed the trajectory of 4 transgender teens from 3 different states (which all have different laws about transgender people competing in sports) and how they navigated what they had to do to keep pursuing the sports they love.  They all came up against so much hate, but also so much love and support, specifically from coaches and parents / guardians.