“I have hoped over the past few years that the incredible love I have received from the public can translate to the lives of all trans folks.” – Laverne Cox
On a bus in mid June, travelling back to NYC from a family event, I wept tears of joy and shock as gay marriage became the law of the land. So many years in the making, and having grown up before gay marriage was even a concept, I could not believe the national outpouring of support for this incredible hurdle in gay rights. And yet, underneath, there was a gnawing feeling of guilt.
Throughout the fight, many of us had silently agreed (or not-so-silently) to normalize ourselves. We had put our social and sexual behaviors back just a bit in the closet, and allowed those with the microphones and bullhorns to claim we were “just like you!” We understood the reasons, so we complied. We could be queer and wild, sexual and gender-bending, dirty and flamboyant and subversive . . . later.
At a dinner the other night with several gay men, out on Fire Island in a lovely home, we sat around a large table and consumed a multi-course meal. We were the picture of a new gay privilege. At the table were an astoundingly successful collection of professionals and activists. I was there, too, feeling a bit unaccomplished and more than a touch financially inadequate. I also felt different, because as the sex-positive artist in this image of bourgeois perfection, I felt like that song on Sesame Street: “Which of These Things is Not Like the Others?”
The subject of trans rights came up, as I hope it does at many such dinners, and the debate was brought to the literal table: Was gay marriage the best-next-step in our cause, or had we missed something along the way? As we began to deliberate, certain celebrity trans women's names came up as well as several trans folk familiar within this circle of men. Questions about what they wanted, needed, and hoped for came up. And so did their penises, or lack thereof. The question was asked (more than once), “Did she have the full surgery?”
On the surface, behind closed doors and away from the public eye, this might seem harmless. “They” (trans people) are of the “We” (LGBT) and therefore we may speak openly about specifics we would not discuss in a greater forum, so it was okay. Or was it? Were we not just as guilty as the straight public, the media and the otherwise curious/ignorant who repeatedly label trans people as freaks? And were we not doing the same thing, reducing each person to the state of their genitalia?
As I began to grow uncomfortable, one of the men at the table explained the different categories of trans identity utilized in his capacity doing human rights work around the globe. Nobody stopped him. Nobody backed away from what I perceived as a slightly condescending lecture. Nobody reacted with anything but nods and interest, because nobody knew what he was talking about. It was new information.
And it hit me like a ton of bricks. We had abandoned them – the entire trans community.
I still question the choice that in the fight for marriage equality we swept our own “not-so-normal” behaviors under the rug, but I cannot say it has caused me, personally, much damage. Though the recent slut shaming that has rippled through the gay community is disturbing, it is only an on-the-surface annoyance of having to navigate pretentions. I am irritated and dismayed that some in our community have bought into the “we are just like you” mentality that we created and adopted solely for publicity purposes, but does it really harm me? I can still do what I want, and side-eye from a yuppie gay does not take away my rights.
But how did that affect the greater cause? The rest of us? The trans community?
LGBT has lost its meaning. The acronym now stands for Lesbian (Hoorah!), Gay (Huzzah!), Bisexual (Um . . . sure) and trans (shhhh . . .). We thought we needed to become more palatable and acceptable (read: closer to the white hetero “norm”) in order to pass marriage equality as a nation-wide right. And perhaps we were correct, given that it is now the law of the land. But in the desire for rapidity of results, whom did we leave behind? It is now clear that we callously dropped the T and abandoned every single actual person under the wide umbrella of that letter.
“The organizations are doing a lot!”
That is what I hear every time I bring up this topic, and what a load of hypocritical bullshit that is. When we were fighting for marriage equality, the organizations were (true to their name) the organizers, and we were the voice. We marched. We posted. We boycotted. We voted. We advocated and conversed and fought and shouted. We did not leave it to the organizations to fight for us, instead rallying behind them at every turn and every time they told us the when and where to join the cause. But now that it comes to Trans rights, we have made it painfully clear: They are not of us. The organizations are responsible for taking care of them, and we will write a check, feel great, and drop it in the mailbox if we pass one on the way to our marriage ceremonies.
We have deserted the trans community in a selfish and cruel way. We left them behind to get what we wanted and now . . . NOW . . . it is time to reach back our hands and pull them up alongside us. It is not up to the organizations. It is up to the individuals. Every time we claim that the non-profits and advocacy groups are doing a great job we increase the divide between gay and trans. We are all queer. We are all one. We have left our family behind. Our silencing of the T in LGBT is shameful, and our outright abandonment of trans people of color in unforgivable.
There were many open seats at that lily-white cis-gendered table on Fire Island, staring with loneliness and accusation at our little group. It is our fault that those seats were not occupied with the rest of our community and our responsibility to ask our questions of those with the experience, not those with the assumptions. I am as guilty of this as every other cis gay man who waived a rainbow flag in the march on Washington. I do not point an accusatory finger around that symbolic table without also eviscerating myself with a stare of blame.
We are queer. We are trans. We are gay. We are not normal. We deserve our rights – all of them. And we have failed, miserably, our trans family.
It is time to invite them back, with sincere and repeated apology, to every table and to ask what they need for us all, collectively, to do next. It is time to admit we made a horrible and cruel mistake in hiding them from the public eye. We may not have known the impact of what we were to do, but we do now. We see it and feel it and we know it our fault. We, as a community and as individuals, must accept responsibility for our failures and take active and public steps to remedy the horrific treatment of the trans community in this country.
They are of us and we are of them. While I enthusiastically applaud their leadership, it is not up to the organizations. It is up to you and me to stand up, shout, demand and proclaim: The time for full legal and social protection of the Trans community is right now.
Until we accept this responsibility with voice and action, we do not have the right to any seat at any table.
On a bus in mid June, travelling back to NYC from a family event, I wept tears of joy and shock as gay marriage became the law of the land. So many years in the making, and having grown up before gay marriage was even a concept, I could not believe the national outpouring of support for this incredible hurdle in gay rights. And yet, underneath, there was a gnawing feeling of guilt.
Throughout the fight, many of us had silently agreed (or not-so-silently) to normalize ourselves. We had put our social and sexual behaviors back just a bit in the closet, and allowed those with the microphones and bullhorns to claim we were “just like you!” We understood the reasons, so we complied. We could be queer and wild, sexual and gender-bending, dirty and flamboyant and subversive . . . later.
At a dinner the other night with several gay men, out on Fire Island in a lovely home, we sat around a large table and consumed a multi-course meal. We were the picture of a new gay privilege. At the table were an astoundingly successful collection of professionals and activists. I was there, too, feeling a bit unaccomplished and more than a touch financially inadequate. I also felt different, because as the sex-positive artist in this image of bourgeois perfection, I felt like that song on Sesame Street: “Which of These Things is Not Like the Others?”
The subject of trans rights came up, as I hope it does at many such dinners, and the debate was brought to the literal table: Was gay marriage the best-next-step in our cause, or had we missed something along the way? As we began to deliberate, certain celebrity trans women's names came up as well as several trans folk familiar within this circle of men. Questions about what they wanted, needed, and hoped for came up. And so did their penises, or lack thereof. The question was asked (more than once), “Did she have the full surgery?”
On the surface, behind closed doors and away from the public eye, this might seem harmless. “They” (trans people) are of the “We” (LGBT) and therefore we may speak openly about specifics we would not discuss in a greater forum, so it was okay. Or was it? Were we not just as guilty as the straight public, the media and the otherwise curious/ignorant who repeatedly label trans people as freaks? And were we not doing the same thing, reducing each person to the state of their genitalia?
As I began to grow uncomfortable, one of the men at the table explained the different categories of trans identity utilized in his capacity doing human rights work around the globe. Nobody stopped him. Nobody backed away from what I perceived as a slightly condescending lecture. Nobody reacted with anything but nods and interest, because nobody knew what he was talking about. It was new information.
And it hit me like a ton of bricks. We had abandoned them – the entire trans community.
I still question the choice that in the fight for marriage equality we swept our own “not-so-normal” behaviors under the rug, but I cannot say it has caused me, personally, much damage. Though the recent slut shaming that has rippled through the gay community is disturbing, it is only an on-the-surface annoyance of having to navigate pretentions. I am irritated and dismayed that some in our community have bought into the “we are just like you” mentality that we created and adopted solely for publicity purposes, but does it really harm me? I can still do what I want, and side-eye from a yuppie gay does not take away my rights.
But how did that affect the greater cause? The rest of us? The trans community?
LGBT has lost its meaning. The acronym now stands for Lesbian (Hoorah!), Gay (Huzzah!), Bisexual (Um . . . sure) and trans (shhhh . . .). We thought we needed to become more palatable and acceptable (read: closer to the white hetero “norm”) in order to pass marriage equality as a nation-wide right. And perhaps we were correct, given that it is now the law of the land. But in the desire for rapidity of results, whom did we leave behind? It is now clear that we callously dropped the T and abandoned every single actual person under the wide umbrella of that letter.
“The organizations are doing a lot!”
That is what I hear every time I bring up this topic, and what a load of hypocritical bullshit that is. When we were fighting for marriage equality, the organizations were (true to their name) the organizers, and we were the voice. We marched. We posted. We boycotted. We voted. We advocated and conversed and fought and shouted. We did not leave it to the organizations to fight for us, instead rallying behind them at every turn and every time they told us the when and where to join the cause. But now that it comes to Trans rights, we have made it painfully clear: They are not of us. The organizations are responsible for taking care of them, and we will write a check, feel great, and drop it in the mailbox if we pass one on the way to our marriage ceremonies.
We have deserted the trans community in a selfish and cruel way. We left them behind to get what we wanted and now . . . NOW . . . it is time to reach back our hands and pull them up alongside us. It is not up to the organizations. It is up to the individuals. Every time we claim that the non-profits and advocacy groups are doing a great job we increase the divide between gay and trans. We are all queer. We are all one. We have left our family behind. Our silencing of the T in LGBT is shameful, and our outright abandonment of trans people of color in unforgivable.
There were many open seats at that lily-white cis-gendered table on Fire Island, staring with loneliness and accusation at our little group. It is our fault that those seats were not occupied with the rest of our community and our responsibility to ask our questions of those with the experience, not those with the assumptions. I am as guilty of this as every other cis gay man who waived a rainbow flag in the march on Washington. I do not point an accusatory finger around that symbolic table without also eviscerating myself with a stare of blame.
We are queer. We are trans. We are gay. We are not normal. We deserve our rights – all of them. And we have failed, miserably, our trans family.
It is time to invite them back, with sincere and repeated apology, to every table and to ask what they need for us all, collectively, to do next. It is time to admit we made a horrible and cruel mistake in hiding them from the public eye. We may not have known the impact of what we were to do, but we do now. We see it and feel it and we know it our fault. We, as a community and as individuals, must accept responsibility for our failures and take active and public steps to remedy the horrific treatment of the trans community in this country.
They are of us and we are of them. While I enthusiastically applaud their leadership, it is not up to the organizations. It is up to you and me to stand up, shout, demand and proclaim: The time for full legal and social protection of the Trans community is right now.
Until we accept this responsibility with voice and action, we do not have the right to any seat at any table.