Trans Woman Abroad #2 – The Funeral

Earlier I wrote about the trip back to Wyoming, but that story did not include the climax of the matter – the memorial service.

My mom and I arrived early. We brought a couple of picture boards from Jenny's life, and wanted them to be displayed by the time everyone else arrived. I'm glad we did.

The chapel setup was beautiful. Two of Jenny's best horse paintings flanked several bouquets of flowers – enough, but not too much. The photo of Jenny that my brother Frank took, which was displayed in a national show, took center stage, along with the portrait my great-grandfather did of her.* As I got close enough to see everything, it hit me – the reality and finality of loss. I collapsed in tears. My mom hugged me close, and for the first time in probably 40 years, I cried on her breast while she comforted me.

When the flood abated, we went out to the lobby. Our old friends, Linda and Doug Nelson, joined us, and my cousins. My nieces, nephews, and brother and sister-in-law arrived, along with 2-year-old Tyler, my great-niece. I got to play with her while guests started to arrive. She had a great time exploring the fountain and getting everything wet while healing my heart, and soon the lobby swarmed with mourners.

Now, things have changed a bit for me since the last time I was home. These are the folks who knew me when I was a teenager and in the years since, when I desperately tried to compensate for the deeply ingrained sense of Not-a-Man by trying to be as macho as possible – which wasn't all that much, because macho just doesn't come natural to me. At all. Only this time, my hair was French-braided, and I wore a long black skirt and dark tunic. I did not look at all like the FN (Former Name) they used to know. Most people didn't recognize me, which was fine. I didn't go out of my way to introduce myself.

I did not, however, go unnoticed. Many people gave me curious looks. And when a large crowd had gathered in the lobby, I finally did approach someone, a close friend of my mom and my brother's former best friend – who greeted me with a loud "[FN]." A gentle correction led to, "You're still [FN] to me!"

Oh. Well, so it goes.

Without getting into too much detail, yes, that little exchange sucked.

I didn't cry during the service, which surprised me, given the way I collapsed before it. However, I was sitting up in the front, and felt the weight of eyes on my back too intensely to relax. It wasn't until after, during the reception in the lobby, that I once again collapsed, and cried on my cousin's shoulder for awhile. Jon has a pretty awesome shoulder for crying on. He's about 6'3", over 200#, former football player. Oh, yeah. His siblings nicknamed him "Herc," short for Hercules.

And then interesting things started happening. An old friend, a former rancher, realized who I was and rushed across the lobby and gave me a big hug. He was all smiles, and happy to see me. The fundamentalist Christian who adopted my youngest nephew following Jenny's car accident initiated a conversation with me, and we spoke pleasantly for several minutes. Raised eyebrows became smiles. The mom of the man who gave me that awkward moment before the service introduced her sister, hugged me warmly, and chatted for some time.**

* Art runs in the family. Jenny was a talented artist. My niece just graduated from grad school at the Chicago Art Institute. And I trace back professional artists on both sides of the family.

** There is immense power in being out. When people see you, the stereotypes they've accepted crumble before the reality of our common humanity.

An Aside: Why I'm Liberal #1a

The difference between liberals and conservatives, inherent in the words themselves, is that conservatives stand to preserve the good that exists; liberals stand to make things better. Conservatism is by nature reactive; liberalism is proactive. Both have a place in the political order, and both are important in reaching a positive political outcome in most cases. Liberals have a tendency to overreach, to toss the good with the bad in their zeal for improvement, while conservatives tend to cling to social conditions that cause great damage in their zeal to preserve the positive conditions.

The interplay between these forces can, at its best, synthesize unforeseen solutions through respectful, compassionate communication. Such discourse generates new ideas as each side listens to the other. The liberal points out the need for improvement, or the damage the current conditions cause; the conservative then resists this presentation, pointing out how damage will result from the proposed change, or how positive conditions will be lost. In the continuing dialogue, the social needs that are or are not being met become clear, and, from that clarity, new solutions that can meet the needs of society present themselves – often with amazing ease.

It’s rather like a football team, with conservatives playing defense and liberals offense. With the shared goal of creating and maintaining the best society we can be, conservatives and liberals would play different roles on the same team, with respectful dialogue chasing positive solutions down the field.

Unfortunately, I rarely see this in our political discourse. Mostly I see people pushing their particular strategy for social preservation or reform, and when resistance comes from the other side, rather than listening and clarifying those needs that are/aren’t met, and the damage/good because of it, each side starts digging trenches and lobbing missiles. We play on opposite teams, and the goal becomes defeating the opposing team and winning the game. The chosen strategy becomes the need, rather than the means to meet the need. As the attacks escalate, each side grows more determined in promoting their chosen strategy, and the possibility of finding solutions that meet everyone’s needs go unexplored.

A case in point is marriage equality/defense of marriage. The presentation of allowing gays to marry as a solution to the problems of social inequity is resisted by people who value the concept of marriage as it has traditionally been applied through the Protestant establishment of our nation’s laws. I believe that a solution that both reduces or eliminates that social inequity, and strengthens families and communities (including “traditional” marriage), can be found. However, I have almost given up on finding it. The discourse has become so violent, and each side has become so defensive of their own position, that alienation becomes inevitable, and force becomes the means to end to the debate. When I hear conservatives suggest that we address the inequities through other means than changing marriage, it rings hollow; I have not heard them actually listen to us, and I have not seen any sign from any one of them that they would actually support any social action that may improve the lives of LGBT people. Every aspect, even our own natures, is opposed. How then do I find common ground?

To communicate, both sides must be willing to listen, and to respect, believe, and recognize the sincerity of the other side. Both sides must recognize that the other is not trying to destroy society, but to make it better – whether we realize it or not, our ultimate goals are the same. Only then will the possibility of conservatives and liberals working together to create the best society that we can be, be realized.

*Standard note: I value dissenting opinions as crucial to the maintenance of freedom and democracy. While I would like to write convincingly, to influence opinion and sway the balance of power my way, I also consider the conservative viewpoint to be important and meaningful. I do, however, believe that political discourse does not have to be nasty and vicious. I prefer to listen to and respect my political opponents. I ask the same from them.

Time Capsule

Back when I was a kid, my dad owned an old 1947 two-ton truck with a beet body. In 1977, when we moved from the ranch at Laramie to the ranch at Sundance, he loaded up the ’47 with stuff, covered it with a tarp, and drove it north. He parked it in the ranch driveway, and there it sat for 32 years, while trees grew up through the bumpers and running boards, and the tarpaulin slowly rotted. For 30 years, until the day he died, he refused to allow any effort to open it up and see if anything was worth saving.

When my family gathered to celebrate Jenny’s life and mourn her passing, my nephew Ray (Jenny’s son, now a fine, strapping 6’3”, 200# man – how time flies!) looked out the window and said, “We should unpack that old truck.”

“What,” my brother Sam replied, “the Time Capsule?”

That’s what it was – a time capsule from 1977. Without Pa to restrain us, we trooped out, pulled off the old bungy cords, and folded back the tarp.

No surprise, much of the stuff was ruined. Boxes of clothes that had rotted, books with pages that had molded together into a solid mass of moldy paper, an old mandolin so rotted that it fell to dust at a touch. We found that my dad had thrown stuff in with random disregard for value or meaning. Family heirlooms sat next to bundles of old newspapers. Valuable antiques huddled with a bag of used, empty toothpaste tubes. (I’m not kidding. He really packed that and moved it, rather than tossing it in the garbage.) And sitting in a box with kid art and a bag of buttons, I found a roll of 35 mm negatives. The date, carefully printed in my mother’s hand, was “Oct.-Nov. 1960.”

That’s right. My very first baby pictures, miraculously preserved for 32 years in the back of an old truck, protected from broiling sun and freezing winter, from rain and snow and drought, by one thin layer of canvas.

It was the one prize I took from the stuff that wasn’t wrecked. And it was enough.

Sweetness

'Scuse me? Nixon??!!! Ouch!

You'll never find my kids dressed like this...

Sleepy time!

My sibs - Frank, Jenny, and Sam

This one reminds me of my Trinidad, all snuggled in his sling. Sweet, sweet boy. (Trin, not me.)

"Where's that nipple?!"

The best picture of my mom - darn it!

A Journey of Reason and Discovery: Why I’m a Liberal #1

This is the first installment in a series inspired by someone who calls himself Euripedes, who wrote his own series on why he's a conservative. (Ironically, his sixth installment was to explain that he's a conservative because he agrees with Edmund Burke when he said self-interest should be put aside in the selection (election) of leaders, and that they should be chosen for integrity and for the good of all. In principle, I would guess this to be nearly universal to any viable democratic political philosophy. In practice, I think conservatives consistently perform worse on this than liberals, voting for narrow self-interest or to benefit one economic class over all others almost all the time, as opposed to liberals, who frequently vote to benefit society as a whole.)

Anyway, the place to start this series seems to be the beginning – the journey I've traveled to achieve liberalhood, and the sources I've explored on the way.

My father was a Goldwater conservative, a rancher in Wyoming who once ran for county commissioner as a Republican. Politics frequented our dinnertime conversation, and dominated during elections. All my neighbors were Republicans, so far as I know. In the school elections in 1972, I was the only person in my 5^th & 6^th grade class to vote for McGovern; everyone else voted for Nixon. But that vote was an anomaly, perhaps a sign of the distant future, and probably a symptom of the fact that I didn't fit in with the cisgendered kids. I went on to start my political life voting for Reagan – twice. (Since then, I've tried not to repeat my mistakes.) At that time, I hadn't really thought much about politics or economics, nor learned much about them.

I became disaffected with conservatism and Republicans shortly after Reagan began his second term. I noticed the neglect and damage his policies created for the environment. He replaced the "tax and spend" policies of Democrats with a "borrow and spend" mentality that was clearly unsustainable way back then, and has only grown worse to the present (ironically, reaching its apex – so far – under a Democrat who considers himself at least somewhat liberal). Iran-Contra blew up, exposing the corruption that ran deep throughout his administration. Still laden with a prejudice that made me unable to stomach Democrats, I abandoned the GOP and adopted third-party affiliations and candidates.

For the next 15 years, until 2000, I never voted for a Republican or a Democrat for president, and rarely for anything else. I explored Libertariansim, and read Ayn Rand's "Capitalism: the Unknown Ideal." I compared it to "The Communist Manifesto," and to the actual economic conditions in our own nation and others. I briefly worked to help establish a Green Party in Missoula, Montana. I read John Stuart Mill's "On Liberty," and Thoreau's "Walden Pond" and "Civil Disobedience." I met Kristin, and my inability to satisfactorily answer her questions led me to question my own assumptions, and to think and explore further. I went to the University, and, though my field of study was architecture, I learned much more, including how to question and find answers. In the evening job I held to work through school (I was a janitor), I listened to talk radio. I listened to Rush Limbaugh, found him lying again and again, and his vicious rhetoric turned me off. Dr. Laura, Michael Savage, Shawn Hannity – none of them stood the test of truth and compassion. Then, when Air America took off, I listened to liberal radio. I found that some hosts - Thom Hartmann in particular - seemed to get their facts straight all or most of the time. Others, like Randy Rhodes, disappointed, with judgmental rants and lies that seemed to be no different from their conservative counterparts, just from the other side of the aisle.

Then, in 2000, a momentous event occurred, which irrevocably changed my life. My son was born. Within three months, I was his primary caretaker, and it soon became clear that the only way I could get him to fall asleep for his afternoon nap was to put him in the car and go for a drive. Since we lived in a house on a hillside, significantly above street level, I couldn't leave him in the car alone to go and do stuff, so each day for almost two years I had two to three uninterrupted hours in which to do nothing but read and think. Following is a brief list of some of the books I read during that time:

American Empire, by Andrew Bacevich

The Twilight of American Culture, by Morris Berman

Freedom in Chains, by James Bovard

America's Future, by William Boyer

Whole Life Economics, by Barbara Brandt

The Iron Triangle: Inside the Carlyle Group, by Dan Briody

The End of Economic Man, by George Brockway

Clueless at the Top, by Harriet and Charlotte Childress

The Growth Illusion, by Richard Douthwaite

Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America, by Barbara Ehrenreich

The Underground History of American Education, by John Taylor Gatto

Mobilizing Resentment, by Jean Hardisty

The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight; Unequal Protection; and What Would Jefferson Do?: a Return to Democracy, by Thom Hartmann

Natural Capitalism, by Paul Hawken et al

The Road to Serfdom, by F. A. Hayek

Economics in One Lesson, by Henry Hazlitt

Instead of Education, by John Holt

The Death of Common Sense, by Phillip Howard

Bushwhacked, by Molly Ivins et al

Blowback: the Costs and Consequences of American Empire, by Chalmers Johnson

Punished by Rewards, by Alfie Kohn

The Teenage Liberation Handbook, by Grace Llewellyn

What It Means to Be a Libertarian, by Charles Murray

Butterfly Economics, by Paul Omerod

How the Pro-Choice Movement Saved America, by Christina Page

Ishmael, by Daniel Quinn

Bionomics, by Michael Rothschild

Through Our Enemies' Eyes: Osama bin Laden, Fundamentalist Islam, and the Future of America, by Michael Scheuer

Corporate Warriors: the Rise of the Privatized Military Industry, by P. W. Singer

When God Was a Woman, by Merlin Stone

The Fourth Turning, by William Strauss & Neil Howe

The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle

The Poverty of Affluence, by Paul Wachtel

and more.

This doesn't count the magazines, articles, and political and economic columns I read, nor my obsessive reading of the news following the 2000 election and 9/11. I did not, however, rely on TV for any information, and still don't. The manipulation of images and events is so blatant in TV that I think you become less informed the more you watch it (and, in fact, a study following 9/11 and the invasion and occupation of Iraq did show that people who watched Fox (Faux) News regularly were less informed than people who didn't pay any attention to the news at all.)

In sum, I sought out many different viewpoints, compared them to my observations and to the most reliable news reporting I could conveniently find (mostly Newsweek and our local newspaper), and reflected on what I read, heard, experienced, and observed. I accepted the ideas that made sense and that were verified by situations, events, and history, and rejected those that did not, regardless of the source – and many of the ideas I've embraced come from conservative sources. Yet from that grew a deepening liberalism – because ultimately, that is where the best arguments lie.

*Standard note: I value dissenting opinions as crucial to the maintenance of freedom and democracy. While I would like to write convincingly, to influence opinion and sway the balance of power my way, I also consider the conservative viewpoint to be important and meaningful. I do, however, believe that political discourse does not have to be nasty and vicious. I prefer to listen to and respect my political opponents. I ask the same from them.

Disorientation Redux

Since my sister's death, I've felt rather discombobulated. I intended to post the further story of my trip back to Wyoming, but have not yet finished it. Instead I started to explore this discombobulation I'm experiencing, and found it related to the human need for orientation I blogged about earlier.

We all orient our lives around the people who are important to us, and siblings form one of the basic foundations of our psychological orientation, especially when they are close in age, as Jenny was. I don't know if that relates to my grief, but I'm sure it relates to my discombobulation. My world has turned sideways again. I imagine it is really strong for parents, also; we orient around our children, mothers even more than fathers as the intense importance of those first days, of nursing, feeding your baby and keeping her alive with the milk of your body, must form a bond so deep and permanent and beautiful. How can no sense of orientation arise?

I imagine that the change in my gender presentation affects that need for orientation in others – not only for my family, but for everyone else! I wonder; do people who have a firm basis of psychological orientation find it easier to accept and integrate things like my transition, while for someone who orients around fundamentalist religion and the binary gender myth, gender transitions are very threatening as they challenge that orientation? Perhaps it is the nature of one's orientation that makes it harder for some than others. For instance, an orientation to Christian Science doesn't take much of a hit; the body, and gender, are mortal concepts, and the person, the spiritual idea, is intact and immortal. As my mom said when I came out to her, "Your identity is intact, and it doesn't depend on gender." On the other hand, for someone who orients around a strict brand of Christianity that holds rigid barriers between classifications of man and woman, it must be very disorienting, and alarming – it shifts the layout of their psychological map, as if you were to go to a place in your neighborhood and find that the street you'd traveled a thousand times was no longer there and had never existed. It threatens the fabric of their world, as they understand it; there is no room for acceptance, because to do so would be to change the entire orientation, to change the psychological landscape as much as, and as frightening as, to change one's understanding of the physical landscape. The order of nature has been reversed. The creek no longer appears to flow downhill; it seems to flow up – and never mind that they are finally seeing reality. But someone who orients around the science of observed phenomena might think my transition is really cool. "Wow! Look at that! How beautiful! Something new under the sun." I've seen that reaction from people. Some people seem hardly affected by my transition, but many have either a strong positive or a strong negative reaction.

Regardless, a death in the family is going to disorient the survivors. I believe that the feeling of grief is related to a need for orientation unmet. And until I get completely oriented to a world without my sister, I'm going to remain discombobulated.

Can This Be True?

This clip is amazing and depressing. If true, it leaves me wondering if we now have a Bush III in office.

Think about it. The same policies as Bush; just under a new name - and, if this video is true (his awful budget is), taken to a greater extreme. Only this time, the guy who's making this stuff up is intelligent, articulate, and charismatic.

Scary.

I picked it up on a right-wing blog, so who knows? It's Rachel Maddow, though, not Rush, so I'm inclined to believe it.

Unfortunately.

Trans Woman Abroad: Part I – traveling and family

I didn't know what to expect. It's the first time I've traveled back to Wyoming since my transition, and many people here know me by my former name; none as Seda. And this is the heart of Bush country. (Okay, maybe not the heart, but the last time a Democrat won in Wyoming was probably before FDR.)

The first surprise came in the process of getting there. I took the train to Portland, then the bus to the airport, then a stop in Denver until finally renting a car in Rapid City. I met and spoke with a lot of people, and I only got "sir'd" once during travel, at security on the way home – and then the TSA employee right behind him immediately and pointedly called me "ma'am." And only once did I get the repeated double take that means someone wasn't sure and was trying to figure out if he was talking to a genetic male. That's not to say I was passing almost flawlessly – I don't know how many people clocked me and just didn't care.

At ten o'clock that evening I arrived at the ranch to warm embraces. I sat down at the kitchen table in the old ranchhouse with my family; my mom, my brother and sister-in-law, my nephew, my niece. I ate leftovers from their dinner while we shared laughter and tears, catching up on the events of recent days and months. It wasn't even awkward. My gender wasn't an issue.

The next day, last before the memorial service, I met my nephew who was adopted by a fundamentalist Christian family following Jenny's accident. His embrace was tentative, but I opened to him, and he soon warmed up. His girlfriend embraced me warmly. My niece and I drove to town to do some shopping, and, again, no one blinked an eye. It was "you ladies" and "ma'am," and everything felt natural. At home, the whole bunch of us younger folks worked to help put my mom's yard in order.

On the day of the memorial, my cousins arrived from the Bay Area. It's a pattern that developed with my brother's death in 2001: since then, seems like we only meet at funerals. Frank's, then my uncle's, then my dad's, and now Jenny's. Nevertheless, it's always good to see them – and there's never enough time. And the Nelson's, close family friends for 40 years, whom I haven't seen for ages, also arrived, bringing our gathering to considerable size.

There was so much warmth, so much love, in the gathering of extended family and friends. I am rich and richly blessed.

Soon, I'll write about the memorial service, where I encountered all the old neighbors and friends of my sister and family.

Naivete?

I used to think that common ground could be found between the viewpoints of liberals like me and any conservative Christian out there. All we had to do was connect using Nonviolent Communication to figure out what the other was feeling and needing, and then we could find solutions that work for everyone. That faith has been shaken. The problem is that in order to communicate, you must have two parties interested in communicating; curious about the other, open to at least hearing what the other has to say. And it appears that many Christians are not interested in that; all they want to do is cram their agenda and peculiar lifestyle down our throats.

Then, trolling through the internet last night, that faith took another hit. I clicked on a link on the blog of a Christian k-12 school and, in an article on the WorldNetDaily, I found this ad:

This is intended to be tongue-in-cheek, or "humor" – but they are talking here about torturing another human being, as if it were a sport or a fun, family activity. I wouldn't mind if it were satire, like Jonathan Swift's "Irish Solution," but it's not. In fact, many of the T-shirts are supposed to be humorous, but the humor isn't dry, or witty, or satirical, or even sarcastic. It's vicious and violent. It promotes murder or torture. It seems to represent a single-minded, simple-minded blind faith in GOP and conservative leadership.

When I see things like this, I think that I was wrong. It seems these people are determined to crush LGBT people and liberals completely, and they will not be satisfied until sodomy is recriminalized and schools teach that homosexuality is insane and depraved, that gays must change or die. I think that we are in a battle for our freedom and safety, and it seems that on the other side no quarter is asked or given. So I want to protect my children from this violence, and feel impelled to go further to the left to counter it more strongly. I want to harden my stance, renew my efforts, to counter this … depravity. It pushes me to my own stance of no quarter, of fighting for complete victory regardless of their needs, just to defend my own.

And that's too bad. Because the more decisions come from the extreme fringes, the worse, generally, they are.

Nevertheless, despite my emotional reaction, I will continue to work to find common ground, to build peace, and to seek a way to get everyone's needs met – or at least considered.