A narrative on identity and art by artist, filmmaker, and professor K Pontuti
I grew up in a small farm town in Ohio at a time where there wasn’t any language around queerness or transness—at least nothing positive. It was also a time without the internet so information wasn’t as easily available. I remember hearing phrases like “he’s really sensitive,” ”…so creative,” “…so sweet,” “…really insecure,” which later gave way to “he’s a momma’s boy,” “needs toughening up,” “has to learn what is to be a man,” “must be a queer.”
I was quite sensitive, and I could feel my difference although I didn’t quite understand it. I was also creative and became immersed in my imagination through making things. I taught myself to draw by copying my favorite comics – Charlie Brown and Snoopy were top billed in my cast of characters – and some of my fondest childhood memories are of sewing and crafting with my mom. Soon, though, I was steered towards building model cars and airplanes…“boy stuff.” (My sisters’) Barbies were replaced with G.I. Joes.
Like I think many do, I managed by burying it all, and through determination, desperation, and the privileges of a “straight cisgendered man,” I was able to carve out a “good life” for myself as an adult. At least for a while.
Over the years and in hindsight, I remember sensing glimpses of my yet-to-be-recognized queerness through tinglings and fuzzy feelings but mostly just moments of seeing other people living and experiencing life outside of the cisgendered binary and thinking, “Huh…” and sometimes, “That’s beautiful.”
But life’s responsibilities and gendered pathways and norms didn’t leave a lot of room for me to pose these bigger questions to myself. Even though there was an unrecognizable emptiness, anxiety, depression, and
dysphoria manifesting as eating disorders, self-medication, over exercising, and an insatiable drive to prove that I was worth something, I must have known subconsciously that someday this this slimy, hairy, shitball-of-a-person inside of me would be exposed—and I’d have to come to terms with it all.
A few years ago, as I was wrapping up post production on our film, The Yellow Wallpaper (not ever imagining that I may have been the tragic story’s trapped woman), I fell into a mental health crisis that landed me in the emergency room. I was fortunate to have checked myself in, and even more fortunate to have a supportive partner and family to get me there and back. I started therapy and a long process of excavating the why’s, how’s, and now what’s of why I had forever felt this way (and, of course, this was all happening through the start of the pandemic).
I also started drawing again which was the other thing that saved me. Immersed in the simple act of putting pencil to paper, the ideas started flowing, the dexterity came back, and then it just exploded and everything poured out.
Since then, I’ve been going all in exploring my identity, trauma, and past. Making new drawings and scouring through old ones. Doing more therapy…and lots of shopping.
As might be expected, my artwork explores themes of gender identity, bodily autonomy, mental health, queerness, and trans rights, all from a very personal perspective. The work is very autobiographical and chronicles my transition as it unfolds, in real time.
This past September, I had my first gallery show in ages and titled it Pray And Be Thankful 4 Everything. For me it was a title that walked a line between irony and authenticity. I was so very thankful for everything, but I was also sick and tired of being told that I should be. The exhibition was amazing on so many levels; personally, professionally, and in an incredibly affirming way. I did as many presentations as I could, especially once I saw the impact it was making.
The show provided a platform to start direct conversations about important topics, but definitely raised a lot of eyebrows at the university. Through it all, I’ve received many notes, read student and faculty-written reflections, and had conversations that have brought me to tears. I’ve also felt the ostracization and distancing that many queer and trans people experience. But the good absolutely outweighs the bad, and the joy and satisfaction of realizing who I am, and why I am, has made it one of the most amazing years I could ever imagine.
When I look back at my younger self, that sweet kid that liked to sew with mom, who had no idea what was coming their way, no language or support for what was happening to them…I get really sad and feel an incredible loss. The loss of a childhood. And to think it was all spun so well that I thought something was terribly wrong with me.
Now, that sadness turns to anger as I watch people, corporations, even my home state of Ohio, wage war on trans rights (as well as the rights of many others). That sadness turns to rage as I watch the stripping away of the tools, education, and medical care that kids and their families need in order to comprehend who they are and survive.
I’m sure it’s not easy to be a trans kid today, but I never had the chance to find out for myself, and the alternative wasn’t so easy for me, either. I’m still doing my daily drawing practice, and I funnel all of my sadness and anger and rage and grief into my art where I can turn it into strength, hope, and self-affirmation. Deep down, I know
these are the things that I need, and I’m now receiving, so that I can continue my journey, and hopefully help others continue theirs.
So yeah, in that sense I am truly thankful.
See more of K’s work on their website: https://www.kpontuti.com/
Trans Week of Awareness is an annual event that starts on November 13 and leads up to Trans Day of Remembrance on November 20th. It is a time in which transgender, non-binary, and other gender-expansive advocates bring awareness to the community through education and activism.
Trans people are faced with many issues, several of which threaten their health and safety. Compared to our Cis counterparts, we’re at higher risk for assault, domestic violence, police brutality, and wrongful imprisonment – and this has been proven time and again throughout history. The murder of Rita Hester is one such case.
Rita Hester was a trans woman of color and a performer. She was a fixture of the club, known for being a bridge between the city’s queer bars and uptown’s hetero nightlife. She enjoyed cooking and often did so with her best friend, Brenda Wynne. On November 28th, 1998, Rita was expected to show up at Brenda’s apartment, but she never did.
At 6:12 that night, police were called to Rita’s apartment with reports of a fight. They found her still alive with stab wounds. But, for some reason, an ambulance did not arrive until over an hour after dispatch. Rita succumbed to cardiac arrest upon arrival at Beth Israel Hospital.
Rita was just one of many Trans people who had been killed that year (within eight months, eight others had been reported, and at the time it was estimated that at least 1 trans person would be murdered in a month-long period), but her community’s love and grief garnered some attention. Over 200 people attended her vigil, and after the disrespect shown by media outlets – repeatedly deadnaming Rita and referring to her as a “cross-dressing man”- many were moved to action.
Gwendolyn Anne Smith drew similarities between Rita’s death and Chanelle Pickett who had died three years prior. Upon realizing that no one had remembered the name of Chanelle, Gwendolyn was determined to bring visibility to all who had lost their lives. Thus began the organization of the Remembering Our Dead web project (an attempt to compile the names of murdered Trans folks from the 1970s and onwards) and Trans Day of Remembrance.
Anti-Trans violence has been a problem for well over a decade, and has become even more wide-spread since Rita’s death. Just last year, a record high of 375 trans lives worldwide were reported. With the increasing number of murders, it had become obvious that just paying respects to our fallen wasn’t enough. Too many names, too many people, were being lost, and too many of our plights were being ignored. And so Trans Week of Awareness came into being. Leading up to Trans Day of Remembrance, community members and their allies would share their stories and experiences in an effort to bring awareness to the disproportionate violence we were, and still are, experiencing.
Today we celebrate by educating our community and allies through stories, articles, discussions, workshops, and activism- addressing the various forms of prejudice, discrimination, and violence we encounter as a community.
We at TEP ask all of you to join us in spreading awareness. Share your stories. Have discussions with your loved ones about the issues trans people face, or attend workshops that focus on the dismantling of trans* oppression. Educate yourself on Trans* identity and Trans* experience. Be someone who spreads awareness. Let’s end the ignorance, together!
It’s not new ground, but it’s worth repeating as a disclaimer: showing up looks different for everyone. Not all of us can afford to donate significant portions of our money or time, and there are many other worthy causes and communities out there in need of attention as well. Terms like ‘slacktivism’ are utterly unproductive. There is absolutely value in posting on social media about Trans* issues; it keeps these issues in the public conscience and shows Trans* people that they have allies out there. On the other hand, there is absolutely no value in criticizing people for showing support to the Trans* community. Of course, people can be doing more than posting on social media, but policing the activism of others is a waste of time, creates division, and only weakens the cause. Stay in your own lane, and focus on the positive!
The very basics of allyship don’t actually take any extra time or effort. I would hope that most of us try to be supportive of the people in our lives. Sort of like a happy birthday message, if you see someone post for International Transgender Day of Visibility, you might send a positive message their way to mark the occasion. I would hope that most of us do some research into the political candidate we are considering voting for. Even when busy, we can hopefully find a few moments to Google the candidate’s stance on certain policies and issues or read their flyer. I would hope that most of us call people out on their bigotry when we judge ourselves able to do so safely, in the same way we would call people out who are just being mean without the bigotry angle. An asshole is an asshole.
Going beyond the basics, I would urge you to join the conversation. A lot has been said about the importance of listening to and not speaking over Trans* voices, but it is equally important not to take this as an instruction to withdraw from the conversation altogether. In a reversal of the idea of ‘slacktivism’, where people’s real motivations and commitment to a cause are doubted and penalized, many people seem afraid that their good intentions will be disregarded in the face of their perhaps poorly-chosen words. One of the most important things an activist or ally to any cause can do is lose their fear of discomfort. Learning comes from a space of discomfort – and this can apply to anyone in any situation. Without putting ourselves in unfamiliar spaces where we may make mistakes, we cannot learn and grow. Put simply: stick around after the talk for the Q&A, and don’t be afraid to put your hand up.
If you’re looking for somewhere to start, we’ve compiled some FAQs about the Trans* community here.
If you’re looking for ways to get more involved – why not take action with us?
It’s not news in the Trans* community how powerful a tool storytelling can be. Just look at the classic instance of it being used against us in the fear-mongering, fictional tale of a man infiltrating the ladies’ restroom as a “Trans* woman” to then take advantage of vulnerable parties. The recorded instance of anything like this actually happening is non-existent. But that little fictional tale has scared hundreds of people, turned them against the Trans* community, may even have helped make a TERF out of a certain famous author. Apparently, you don’t need facts if you have a good story (as sales of said author’s fantasy books can certainly testify to), and a good story can’t be silenced by facts.
So rather than fight fire with a Health & Safety code (rare is the individual who actually reads those), we must fight fire with water. Why give oxygen to the inflammatory stories intended to demonize Trans* people when there exists a plethora of stories to tell that are a perfect antidote? Endless tales of Trans* folk who have been so impactful as to infringe on the mainstream. Trans* success stories like that of Laverne Cox, Elliot Page, Jonathan Van Ness, Judith Butler, Lana and Lilly Wachowski are as well-worn books, thumbed through by many a reader. Just as important are the local stories. The openly gay and married professor at my university who helped my lesbian friend believe she could live a long and happy life as herself. The Trans* guy I hung out with years ago who is now documenting his transition on social media – the Trans* guy who helped me feel less abnormal. Telling your story gives something for other Trans* folk to identify with and gives people outside the community a real person to sympathize with instead of a twisted stereotype to mock or a skewed caricature to fear. And building these connections builds influence and power.
The #MeToo movement is a useful recent example of the power of storytelling. Millions of people worldwide shared their stories, helping to build a global sense of community and getting most of the planet talking about the pervasive issue of sexual assault. This movement led to charges being brought against serial sexual predators, job losses for many accused figures, and in several states even a ban on the use of nondisclosure agreements relating to incidences of sexual misconduct. Over four years since the movement went viral on social media, more than half of Americans say they are more likely to speak out about sexual misconduct. The number of employed who received training on workplace harassment has increased. The percentage of employed who perceive a serious sexual misconduct issue at their place of work has almost halved since 2017. All because people were brave enough to tell their stories.
Storytelling is important not just to build political power in the current moment, but for crafting a lasting Trans* history and a data resource on Trans* identities and lives. As of right now, alongside the Trans* historical figures we have, there are plenty of famous figures of unknown or ambiguous gender identity, and those presumed to be cisgender. The more Trans* stories we tell now, the more solidified the place of Trans* people in history becomes. The larger the data pool, the harder it is to ignore, the more it has to be factored into more general cultural and political conversations. Trans* literature is an emerging discipline; just as writing by women had to be told again and again to become the established academic sect it is today, writing and engaging with more Trans* stories will help to establish the Trans* voice in literary study. Beyond literature, our language itself is shaped by cultural forces – and the influence of Trans* storytelling has led to words including ‘cisgender’ and ‘genderqueer’ being added to dictionaries. In 2018, the Oxford English Dictionary added ‘Trans*’. Pop-culture is currently littered with slang from and references to queer culture. History is not always written by the victors, but being able to write yourself into history is a form of victory.
Today, the Supreme Court has ruled that Roe V. Wade be overturned.
This is disturbing, but not surprising. Attacks against abortion have been a common theme in the playbook of colonizers and white supremacists. Today’s ruling is just the latest of their work, setting the stage for further attacks against our own bodily autonomy, and encouraging the belief that others can make choices for your body.
This overturn is a direct attack against the rights we have to make decisions about our own bodies, and we can not let this stand. We must not allow the ignorance and entitlements of white supremacy to go unchecked and we should demand better from all those around us. The time for complacency is over! We need to take action now!
Join us at Trans Empowerment Project as we work to create an equitable future where we all thrive!
If you would like to take action and aid us in amplifying the voices of our communities, come visit our Reproductive Justice Fund Page.
When it comes to the idea of ‘normal’, we’ve been sold a lie. In truth, the concept of ‘normal’ and its moralization are an illusion of privilege. People in charge – and those in the cultural majority – can pretend their reality is ‘the norm’, and that the experiences and identities of others which differ from that ‘norm’ are abnormal, undesirable, deviant. They can (and do) use their power and privilege, sometimes unconsciously, to reinforce this idea that their ‘norm’ is the natural, good, proper one. This means the very idea of ‘normal’ is an oppressive concept in society. Referring to what is ‘normal’ implies that everything and everyone who falls outside of those bounds is on their own, isolated by their abnormality. It helps to weaken marginalized persons by persuading them they are anomalies and convincing them they lack power. It offers an easy excuse for the dismissal of concerns raised by those who don’t fit ‘the norm’. So long as Trans* people wanting access to gender-affirming treatment doesn’t fit within ‘the norm’, it can more easily be ignored. So long as queer topics aren’t part of ‘the norm’, those in power can keep pretending there’s no need to discuss these things in schools. In fact, even discussing things that fall outside the bounds of ‘normal’ is often claimed to be dangerous or harmful.
The situation can seem bleak. How can Trans* voices and concerns be heard when Trans* identities and people themselves are so quickly dismissed as abnormal and therefore unworthy of audience? Speculation began early in the year that 2022 ‘could be [the] most anti-Trans legislative year in history’ in the USA[i]. Yet when it comes to a battle for the culture, for simply the right to exist, Trans* people are the ones gaining ground. Every anti-Trans bill introduced faces fierce resistance, and not just from Trans* folks themselves. That Trans* related issues and controversies are covered so extensively in the media can be frustrating – particularly in terms of the tone of that coverage – but it is a victory. There exist more platforms than ever which can be used to tell your story, to raise your concerns, to add your voice to a collective – and the collective Trans* voice is louder than ever.
Every time an ‘abnormal’ story is told, it chips away at the very concept of ‘normal’, stretches and weakens those boundaries that exist to divide us all. When your identity, your very existence, has been deemed irregular, telling your story becomes a powerful political act, a way of reclaiming the idea of ‘normal’ for yourself – by destroying the very definition of ‘normal’ and ridding it of its moralizing. There is no right or wrong way to be yourself. And you are never as alone as you might think. Every Trans* voice raised is a Trans* voice heard, a reminder that someone else has the same ‘normal’ as you. Not everyone is in a position to tell their story, or perhaps can only tell it anonymously. No one is ever obligated to tell their story – but every Trans* person who does tell their story is giving the world a gift. Offering themselves up as evidence that there is a lot more to people than what is considered ‘normal’. Offering other Trans* people a chance to see that they are not alone in their supposed ‘abnormality’. Claiming a space for Trans* people in ‘the norm’.
The holidays have come ‘round again and it’s time for families and friends to gather together and celebrate. Lots of you might be gathering for the first time since covid began, which is already nerve-wracking enough. What you might not know is that a significant number of people have come out as trans or non-binary during the last almost 2 years of quarantine and isolation. Your friend or family member will need support, and if you can put aside any biases or assumptions you have and be affirming, it will go a long way towards making sure you have a relationship with them in the future. Below are 10 tips you can use this holiday season to be the best ally you can be for your trans or non-binary loved ones.
Pronouns and name – ALWAYS use your loved one’s new name and pronouns. If you don’t know, ask, and then practice ahead of time. Don’t make excuses like “it’s just too hard, I’ve known you as (blank) for so long!” Practice, practice, practice, so that you don’t mess up when you see them. Speaking of “them”, let’s take a moment to talk about they/them pronouns since they seem to get a lot of pushback from folks who don’t think they/them should be used as a singular pronoun. What you might not realize is that we have been using they/them as a singular pronoun for centuries and that you’ve been doing it your whole life. For example: “Oh no, someone dropped their keys in the parking lot. I will try to find them so that I can return their keys.” It’s not as hard as you think it is, it just takes practice.
Check-in and educate yourself beforehand – The best thing you can do as an ally is to follow the lead of your loved one. If they seem excited to talk about their name change, pronouns, transition journey, etc, by all means, share that joy with them. Just remember that it’s not up to you to lead that conversation. Don’t expect your loved one to show up and answer every question you or other guests have about trans people. While some folks don’t mind answering questions if they’re framed politely and respectfully, some trans people don’t have it in them to give that kind of emotional labor, especially during a time that’s probably already very stressful for them. Marginalized people do not owe you an education on their experiences. Be proactive and learn what you can ahead of time. If you’re unsure of where to start, we’ve included further resources below.
Don’t ask questions you wouldn’t ask a cis person (a cisgender person is someone who identifies as the gender they were assigned at birth) – This should be obvious but you should never ask questions of your trans or non-binary loved one that you wouldn’t ask of a cis person. Asking questions like “have you had any surgeries” or “what’s in your pants” or “which bathroom do you use when you’re in public” is incredibly offensive. You wouldn’t ask a cisgender person these questions, so don’t ask them of your trans or non-binary loved ones. The answers to these questions are none of your business and asking them only makes your trans loved one(s) extremely uncomfortable.
Gendered traditions – Lots of folks have family traditions that they perform during the holidays, whether that’s having folks only buy gifts for family members of the same gender or having the post-meal tradition of men watching football and women cleaning up the kitchen. If your loved one is a trans man or trans woman, including them in the traditions that were formerly forbidden to them because of their assigned gender at birth can be really affirming and is a great way to make them feel accepted. If your family member is anything other than a binary trans person (trans man or trans woman), any “gendered” traditions are likely to, by default, not feel inclusive to them. Consider speaking with them to see if together you can brainstorm ideas for new traditions that will help them feel seen and validated.
Recounting old stories/sharing pictures – Ah, those good times when your family and friends recount funny, heartwarming, and/or embarrassing stories about your youth! Remember though, your trans or non-binary loved one went by a different name and/or pronouns back then, so you need to adjust your stories accordingly. Don’t say things like “back when *so-and-so* was a girl” or “before *blank* came out as non-binary”, just tell the story like you normally would and replace all the old names and pronouns with the correct ones. If this seems daunting, don’t forget to practice ahead of time! Also, some trans or non-binary folks do not like seeing pictures from before they transitioned as it can make them feel dysphoric, so be sure to ask them privately about their comfortability before you whip out any childhood/pre-transition photos.
Don’t “out” them to anyone else – Just because your trans or non-binary loved one came out to you (and maybe even the rest of the family), it doesn’t mean they’re ready to come out to everyone. While they may have wanted to share this wonderful news with you during the holidays, they might still have to stay closeted at work and/or other social situations. Outside of the circle of people who will be at this holiday gathering, do not assume that anyone else knows they’re trans or non-binary or that it’s safe for them to come out to everyone around them. Trans people have a right to come out to who they want to, in the ways they want to, and in their own time. Even if you mean well, outting them could put their livelihood, or even their life, in danger.
Gift-giving – Okay, so you’ve been buying gifts for this person for years but now that they’ve come out, you’re not sure what to give them. What the heck are you going to do?! Well, you can always ask! Your loved one may be trying to build a new wardrobe, or compiling a makeup collection for the first time, or exploring toiletries/hygiene products that they’ve never used before. (If they’re looking for something along these lines, and you have a product that you use and love, which you think they’d love too, share it with them! What better way to find new commonalities through gift-giving!?) You can also ask them if there’s anything they want or need, even if it’s something fun and silly like a toy they always wanted as a kid but weren’t allowed to have because of traditional gender roles.
How to handle the problematic family member(s) – Regrettably, there’s almost always going to be “that” friend or family member at your gathering. You know, the one who repeatedly misgenders and/or deadnames your trans or non-binary loved one? Or even the one who idolizes a certain president who tried like hell to make life for trans folks even harder than it already is? Well, it’s your job as an ally to run defense between your trans or non-binary loved one and problematic Aunt Karen, and you don’t have to be an expert on trans people or politics to do it. If someone is misgendering, deadnaming, or otherwise making your trans or non-binary loved one feel uncomfortable or excluded, it’s your duty to set boundaries with this person to let them know you will not tolerate any disrespect of your trans loved one. You don’t have to be loud or aggressive, you just have to be firm, ally is a verb and it’s something we must continually strive to be, even in difficult situations.
Make space for their comfort, not yours – Using a different name and set of pronouns for someone you’ve known your whole life might seem difficult, seeing your loved one as their authentic selves instead of the person others thought them to be might make you feel like you lost someone, and standing up to a problematic friend or family member might be your worst nightmare, but this isn’t the time to make it about you. Your trans or non-binary loved one needs to see that you’re actively working to support them. They need you to be an ally, even when they’re not around. Your acceptance and support are key to making sure that they’ll still be around in the future, and not just at family gatherings. 41% of all trans people have attempted suicide at some point in their life, but having a supportive parent or family member can cut those instances almost in half. Just by being a decent, respectful human being, you could literally be saving their life!
What to do if you mess up? We know, all of this seems pretty heavy at first. You’re probably worried that you’re going to screw up somehow and it’s giving you a ton of anxiety. Don’t worry, everyone makes mistakes and your trans loved one is most likely not going to hold you to impossible standards, especially if they see you truly making an effort. What you can’t do is continue to make the same mistakes without acknowledging and working on them, or make your loved one feel like it’s somehow their fault that you’re having to learn how to use this new information. Trans people should not be made to feel like a burden for existing. You do not need to make a huge deal when you do make a mistake. Crying, apologizing repeatedly, and forcing your loved one to console you over your mistake is not the way to show you care. If your loved one (or another ally friend or family member) points out that you slipped up on a name or pronoun, the *only* thing you should do is apologize (once is enough), thank them for reminding you, and move on with the conversation, resolving to do better next time.
Congratulations! Your trans or non-binary loved one trusted you enough to share this truth about themselves with you, which means they want you to be a part of this new life they’re about to embark on. Please be the support system they need and give them the love and acceptance they deserve. Happy holidays!
According to a study done by The National Center for Transgender Equality, 1 in 5 transgender individuals will have experienced homelessness at one point or another.
“Why?” you may ask.
Well…
It starts early on in our youth. We come out to our families, putting faith in the comfort and acceptance they have given us, and are promptly let down. They threaten us, tell us if we don’t conform to their idea of our gender that we will no longer have a place to stay under their roof. Some of us do try to hide, but it is impossible for us to change who we are. Impossible to keep the cracking facade of a happy cis girl or boy, when we are crumbling under the dysphoria. So, we are forced onto the streets. We attempt to take residency in shelters. Some shelters deny us. Some pretend to accept us, only to force us into gendered sleeping spaces and gendered facilities each of which are based upon outdated documents. Documents that you as a youth have no means in which to update. Your signature not legal, your finances non-existent. “The documents say (this gender) so you have to be with (that gender)” Then there are the other patrons themselves. They spew slurs, threats, and general misinformation. They harass and physically harm you, and the shelter personnel have placed you so far in the complex that you can’t go to their guards for help. At the end of it all, the shelter can’t even provide you with the resources you need to get help for your situation. In the meantime, you try hard to find a real place to stay. You look at rooms for rent, and fill out their applications using the deadname that twists your stomach. They call back with rejections, whether it be due to complications with previous tenancy (because the only tenants you’ve ever known are the transphobic family that chose to discard you) or because they themselves partake in gender discrimination. You’ll search and search, and maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe you’ll find a place that accepts you. You’ll enter the room, happy to have a roof, only to realize that this place isn’t liveable. There’s mold, vermin, cracks that line the walls. Or maybe it is livable, but a few months later you receive an eviction notice, and the whole cycle starts again.
In a world that prioritizes cis comfort, it’s hard to find a work environment that will treat a trans person with respect. You are constantly faced with a customer base that will scream at, belittle, and act violently toward you, and the people you work with will often not defend you and may even continue the abuse you experience. They’ll misgender you, use your deadname and the incorrect pronouns. They’ll mock you, “Well I identify as an Attack Helicopter,” or outright deny, “Pronouns are a liberal myth, you’re just confused.” They won’t accommodate for any of your needs. The uniforms are gendered, and you’re forced into an attire that doesn’t match you. Gender-neutral facilities are a rarity, and you have to choose which restroom will be less hostile. Pronouns are not used in introductions nor presented on the tags worn, further stigmatizing their existence. We ask, and we ask, but our voices don’t mean much to the cis management (because trans people are almost always denied promotions to positions of power due to gender discrimination from their supervisors) who continuously cater to their mostly cis customer base.
But that’s even assuming you get hired in the first place.
The struggles start with just applying for a position. They ask for your gender, but often don’t include options outside the binary (male, female) forcing non-binary people to choose between intense dysphoria or a label that mismatches your presentation, putting your safety at risk. They ask for your legal name, but not your preferred name (and why don’t they, plenty of people use nicknames or pen-names, why not include the line) and if you haven’t changed your name (most likely due to finances because, you know, you don’t have a job) then you’re forced to use a name that doesn’t represent you. This especially affects you later when you get the interview. They see you, hear you; a person who “dresses strangely” or who “has a weird voice”. They meet you and realize that you don’t match the name given, and they think you’ve lied to them and they toss your application out the window without another thought, because why would they want to challenge their own assumptions. And so, you move on to the next place, and the next, and the next. You get rejected, over and over again, and always for the same reasons. Because you’re Trans, and “Trans isn’t normal.”
became immersed in my imagination through making things. I taught myself to draw by copying my favorite comics – Charlie Brown and Snoopy were top billed in my cast of characters – and some of my fondest childhood memories are of sewing and crafting with my mom. Soon, though, I was steered towards building model cars and airplanes…“boy stuff.” (My sisters’) Barbies were replaced with G.I. Joes.
dysphoria manifesting as eating disorders, self-medication, over exercising, and an insatiable drive to prove that I was worth something, I must have known subconsciously that someday this this slimy, hairy, shitball-of-a-person inside of me would be exposed—and I’d have to come to terms with it all.
through old ones. Doing more therapy…and lots of shopping.
