What Tom Said

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."  (Jefferson, Thomas, Declaration of Independence, 1776)

MAGA wants to, based solely upon my identity, deprive me of my life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness- preferably in that order.  If they can't kill transgender women, they'll jail us.  If they can't jail us, they'll make our lives miserable.  

 Last Monday

It's Snoroton's transnecropolitics writ large.  We have value to MAGA for two things: money makers and as "the enemy."  Fascism requires an enemy to "rescue" the people from.  With MAGA, it's brown people and it's transgender women.  Also, the Enemy is necessary for fundraising.  "Look at these horrible things!  Only WE can save you- if you send money!" 

Will transgender women still be the primary target after (not if) they overturn Obergefell v. Hodges?  

"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness

We fought for these ideals we shouldn't settle for less"

(Miranda, Lin-Manuel, Cabinet Meeting #1, Hamilton, 2015)

Later in that same referenced paragraph, Jefferson writes "That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it..." (ibid.)

The current regime doesn't care about poll results or opinions.  They care about power and money- the more the better.  They also don't care about protests- except for target practice.  

So, what can be done?  Unless the military remembers their oath and disobeys unlawful orders (or removes the problem from office), I don't know.  

Thomas Paine wrote "The cause of America is in a great measure the cause of all mankind" (Common Sense, 1776).

As this country falls into Russia influenced fascism, what can the world do?  No democracy is safe.  None.  Anywhere.

What a time to be alive.  

Snake Subaru Sophomore Summer Start

I don't remember if I've told this story before.  Heck, I've been telling you stories for so long that even I don't remember the beginning (which was December 2008, btw.)

I drive a lot to see Wife and Daughter in South East Pa (SEPa), so I listen to audio books.  I just finished Brothers by Alex Van Halen.  It was excellent and raw.  In any case, it reminded me of an event in my life that was more important than I thought at the time.

This happened in June 1982, on the last day of finals- the last day of my sophomore year.  I forget the exact date, and it doesn't matter.  The day was sunny and glorious.  

I had few friends at that time.  Two of those were the people that I played D&D with- Dr. Dave and Snake.  Snake obviously isn't his real name- it was a nickname given for a really, well, stupid reason, but it stuck.  Of the three of us, I was the youngest.  In June 1982, I was 15.  But Snake was 16... and now had a driver's license.  

Oh, to have a license!  To escape the confines of our small town- to go wherever we'd like: to the mall, get food, whatever... without having parents drive us!  THAT was freedom!  

Snake was allowed to drive his mum's beige '75 Subaru (which looks eerily like the photo below.)  Snake's dad owned a garage, and Snake was busy restoring an MG-A convertible.  I'll come back to that.  

1975 Subaru

That day, Snake had the Subaru.  Dr. Dave, Snake, and I had the same final exam.  As we all lived in Spring City, he offered to drive us home.  When we got into the car, Snake suggested we go to the King of Prussia (KOP) mall, which was like Mecca for teens of our area (and was, and still is, one of the largest malls in the world.)  Going there always meant parents driving.  But... not that day.

The first stop was my house.  We were listening to WMMR on the radio, and they were playing Van Halen Dancing in the Street (cover of the Marvin Gaye song made famous by Martha and the Vandellas).  The volume was turned WAY UP.  When I jumped out of the car to drop off my school stuff, the whole street HAD to hear it!

In a way, this was an announcement to all- I was no longer a Child, I was a Teenager!  I had no idea what that would mean, but there I was!  Loud and rude- like all the teenagers I'd seen on TV, movies, or in life!  Who cares if the music was too loud?  Or how annoyed the neighbors on the street would be?  It was like a Declaration of Independence.  

1962 MG-A just like Snake's.  Maybe it is his?

So we went to the mall.  I don't remember anything about that trip, but if it was anything like a typical mall trip from later high school, we walked around the mall (which, back then was an oval with a branch sticking out).  In the early 80s there had been an update to the mall as well as the construction of a new mall next to it: the Court, which opened in 1981.  That was the mall for rich folks- VERY 80s.  It's still there, but since another update on the original mall made it much fancier, it looks like the dated old part.  

While walking around, we always stopped at Allied Hobbies to look for new AD&D stuff, the Listening Booth record store (where I worked briefly), the food court, and, of course the arcade: Space Port.

I miss arcades- with their low lights to make the screen easier to see, and the great games.  True escapism.

So, what's my point?  Well, I really don't have one.  Maybe there's a metaphor to my "coming out" almost 32 years later.  After all, I was 'crossdressing' then- it was my Dark Secret.  My Shame.  But, you know what?  I think, that for that moment in time, that particular event- I felt accepted and Happy.  

Be well. 

March of Questions

The cold rain falls here in State College, flutily trying to cleanse the Earth.  Evil has gripped the US.  It was on full display the other night during a televised speech to Congress.

Rainy days always make me reflective.  Perhaps rain are the tears of God or the dead.  Perhaps they are a metaphor for renewal and life, as water evaporates, rise, condenses, falls back to Earth just to eventually evaporate again.  

Wow.  Corny metaphors... and I'm not even drunk.

In any case, In the past week, people asked me questions that really gave me pause.  I figure writing them down would help me think through and process my answers.  You lucky people.

Recent pic

The first was asked  to me by a co-worker the other day, then by a therapy student last night:  What would healing look like for you?

This first came up during a discussion about Justice.  My coworker (who is against carceral state) believes that punishment doesn't help the victim at all.  My counter-point was "so the perpetrator just commits a crime, and gets away with it?"  Their point was that these are two separate issues- that society cares more about punishment than restoring the victim.  The coworker was once the victim of a hideous crime (I'm not at liberty to say what) while living in Hong Kong, and said that the first thing the authorities there did was to help them recover from the crime.  (yes, the perp was caught and punished.)  Hence the question. 

My answer: Wow.  I really have no idea. I've lost so much and have the scars to prove it. Move to a different house with Wife and daughter and live as a family again?  (and drag Linda along as well.)  The issue here is that if someone comforts me (like says "I'm proud of you), I don't believe them.  It bounces off my armor and doesn't get through (just like compliments.)  I've thought of this for a couple of days... am I beyond healing?  I mean- there's no way to have my years restored to me.  Apologies, while helpful, don't restore.  The "plate is still broken" so to speak.  

Of course, I could just let go of the past, and all the Pain.  But that Pain defines me- drives me.  

Without the experiences that caused the Pain (and other experiences) that make me who I am, for good or for ill.  That Pain gave me my drive and passion for justice.  Would justice on those who hurt me long ago bring me healing?  Not now.  Justice must be swift to be helpful.  That said, there are some graves that it would me great pleasure to, ahem, defecate upon.  

This is a question I need to really consider.  A lot.  

I thought of the second the other night while watching Casablanca.  That's a movie about many things, with regret being a major theme.  I thought about the losses I've endured- the many regrets I've piled up in my life.  Then I asked myself: Is it worse to regret something you did or something you did not do?

I posted the question on facialbook and received some good answers.

My answer: Something I did NOT do.  It's the hell of "what if."  When I regret something I did, I at least tried and found an outcome.  For example: I transitioned, and the following happened: blah blah.  I maintain that those results are better than wondering where my life would've been had not transitioned, but still wanted to.  If that makes sense.  (I already know what the alternative to transition would've been: death.)  

The third question was asked to me at a presentation I frequently do here at PSU: it's a brief LGBTQ 101, followed by the stories of the presenters, then a Q&A.  Usually the audience are undergrads, as we (me and the other presenters) are invited to speak to classes by the professors.  An F2M person (they told me) asked me the following:  What is your favorite part of being a woman?

In my eleven years of presenting about transgender issues, no one has EVER asked me that.  A question I get frequently is "What do you miss about being a man?"  (I usually steal Jennifer Finney Boylan's answer to that: "Pockets.")  Yet never the opposite.  The student said they couldn't imagine wanting any part of being female.  I get it- that's dysphoria.  

The answer I eventually gave was the 'permission' to feel and express emotions.  Guys really aren't allowed to do that lest they be accused of being "gay."  (Masculinity is a rigid, narrow course.)  Now, if I wish, I can cry, laugh, express all the emotions I wish.  After all, there's no 'restrictions' on women for expressing emotions.  Also, the estrogen allows me to feel more emotions.  There are emotions I experience that I can't even name.  (Did I install an emotion chip?)

In any case, all three are questions I need to keep considering.  If nothing else, to take my mind off the hell on earth that MAGA has made the world.

Be well.

"Living the Dream"

 Yesterday, while preparing to leave for work, I was putting on my shoes and bantering with my roomie/bestie Linda as usual: a typical day.  She said "have a good day" and I replied "living the dream."

That's when my two remaining brain cells nudged me.

I was sitting on the couch while wearing a dress.  I was also wearing a bra which supported my own breasts, pantyhose (yes, I'm old), and pierced hoop earrings.  I was also fully made up and had styled my hair.  I was dressed as the woman I am.  

I thought for a moment about that.  For so many years, this WAS the dream- an impossible dream.  The idea of stepping out the door, never mind going to work, dressed this way, was so beyond possibility that I didn't dare even consider it.  

Yet I've been doing that very thing for almost eleven years.  

Yes, I've paid the very steep price (and will do so the rest of my life), but also yes- I guess I AM living the dream!

And so I went to work.

Be well.

February So Far

 I'm still here.  My existence is in itself an act of protest (or something like that.  Laverne Cox said it.)  I still haven't been sent to a camp somewhere.  Yet.  I'm still here, in spite of my Scottish cousin's repeated appeals.

Here we are on week 3 of the descent into fascism.  People far more informed than me have already written about all that's happening, especially to transgender people.  Here are some links:

Timothy Snyder (noted expert on fascism) on how the government is being dismantled.

Jessica Weingarten on calling out the Trump tax.

Heather Cox Richardson om Musk's government takeover.

Erin Reed who keeps her eye on transgender issues.

Melissa Ryan on multiple topics.  At the bottom of this one is an interesting news item, which I reproduce here:

"Declassified CIA Guide to Sabotaging Fascism Is Suddenly Viral (404 Media)

I read this guide when it first went viral in 2017 (and probably linked to it at some point). Amused that it’s going viral again, I assume it's being passed around at least in part by civil servants determined to hold the line."  

People who know me know I have a passion for history- in particular the history of resistance against the Nazis in WWII.  The headline above is inaccurate- when this guide was published in January 1944, the CIA did not exist.  This book was published by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), whose brief was "coordination for the gathering of intelligence" (from the above linked article.)Yes, it eventually became the CIA, but it wasn't at that time.  

Nit picking, I know.

Since the beginning of the semester, I've put an effort into my appearance at work.  I've pretty much gotten my makeup speed back by keeping it simple.  That said, this morning I was enraged by my getting cover-up into my hair.  A lot of it.  After a lot of other small things that had gone wrong, that was the one that put me over.  I wanted to tear the room apart, rip out my hair, wipe off all my makeup, and just disappear.  Those who knew me before my transition knew I had a violent, hair-trigger temper.  Transition really helped calm that storm, as has decades of therapy.  However, since November, I find my patience is getting ever thinner.  I want to isolate myself from everything ("turtle" as I call it.)  Of course, not being able to afford a therapist (finding one that takes my insurance is hard) hasn't helped either.  Nor has medical bills piling up by four figures almost daily (my insurance really sucks.)  

Work Sophie Selfie

I know: wah wah.  Cry me a river.

Still, I'm not in a camp somewhere.  I'm still employed.  I can still fight the fascist take-over (as we all should.)  I guess all of those are something.

Be well.