Eli

Well this is amusing. Apparently I'm hanging out with the wrong crowd, at least if I wanna get laid. Good thing that's not why I have a livejournal. ;)

( LJ Match... )

Okay Obies, Obies-to-be, and anyone else who cares. Here's the final rundown before I send in my "big book of forms":

Advisor request:
-Meredith Raimondo
-Wendy Kozol
-David Walker

Seminar Choices:
- 118 Through the Looking Glass: The Intersection of Race, Ethnicity, and Gender with Social Class in Contemporary America, White
- 111 Words that Matter, Bryan
- 154 Freud's Vienna: Artists, Intellectuals, and Anti-Semites at the Fin-de-Siècle, Sammartino
- 146 HIV/AIDS in America, Raimondo
- 122 Music Live, MacDonald
- 133 Science and the Mind, Thornton

Early Registration Choices:
- 110 Technique and Form in Poetry, Powell
- 233 American Political Theory, Wilson
- 213 Women and Gender in Early Modern Europe, Abend
- 312 Introduction to German Literature II, Huff

Will you require any special living accomodations? "As a transgendered student, I would request that I not be place in gender-specific housing. A roomate in a similar situation would be preferred."

Residence Hall Preference:
1. Co-op
2. Traditional Residence Hall ("Fairchild!" written in next to this)
3. Program House (German House)

Please indicate any special information with regard to the kind of roomate you would prefer (music preferences, neatness, quiet, etc.): "I'd love a roommate who appreciates folk music and wouldn't mind me playing guitar and singing, but who also understands my need to often be alone, as an introvert. Someone okay with the fact that I'm queer and transgendered is a must."

Dining Plan Preference:
1. Co-op dining
2. 19-Meal/40 CDS Flex Points per semester
3. 14-Meal/150 CDS Flex Points per semester

Co-op Preference: (first-years are required to do room & board at co-ops where this in an option)
1. Keep
2. Fairkid
3. Harkness
4. Tank
5. Old B
6. Third World

The picture I sent in as per their "photograph request" is a copy of the one in this icon.

Can I just reiterate how lovely it is to be able to check off "transgender" and "androgynous" rather than "accidentally" forgetting to fill out that pesky sex/gender space on official forms?

I went to see Chris Smither play tonight at the local coffee house/listening room. Smither's a motherfuckin' acoustic guitar player, an awesome songwriter and a really inspired singer. If you could hear his "No Love Today," you'd understand. Shit, man.

I hate it when good artists (by which I mean artists I like, of course. I hardly pretend that my opinion determines objective, inherent worth of art or some such nonsense) don't get the appeciation and respect they deserve. The audience at this show was obviously a bunch of aging boomers who know they're supposed to like folk/blues/rock performers, so they go out for a nice, leisurely evening to get a little entertainment and drink a little red wine. Okay, so I don't have a problem with that (and I may well be doing it myself at 55, so get your hypocrite buzzers ready once I hit that age range), but Chris Smither is the shit, man. He's the real deal. And these people were obviously just there for the atmosphere of a concert. He'd play a song and I'd just be floored yet again, even though I know most of the songs, watching him play that guitar like it's a part of him and keeping that rock solid groove. I'd be moving all over the place, slapping my thigh and stomping my feet and shaking my head to the beat, but other people would just bob their heads in time.

I guess my expectations are too high, but I was just so surprised at how underwhelmed a lot of the audience seemed. As we left, I heard a woman saying, "Well, that was another nice night," in a sort of a sing-songy voice, and I wanted to shoot her an incredulous look. Maybe it's just because I can see myself in Smither's position (although my chops will doubtfully ever approach his skills, and I don't know that I will ever be able to claim such spot-on melodies and poetically acessable lyricism), but I was almost offended. Here this man has put all his hurt and his pain and his blues and his life on the line and you call it a "nice evening"?!? Geez.

I must say, though, throughout the show I just kept getting that warm, otherworldy thing I get when music just gets in me, and all I could think was "I wanna do that!" I'd been reading the lovely Songwriters on Songwriting before the show, with all of these interviews with all sorts of different songwriters, and every time I read it ist reminds me that I need to say fuck my fear and plunge in. I managed to do it with poetry this year. I need to take some serious alone time this summer and write music, goddamnit. It's what I'm here for.

On a slightly different note, my father is amazing. He just goes up to people like Chris Smither and talks to him about where he's playing this summer, who he's listening to right now, how he feels about the newest alt country album. I swear, the man doesn't have an intimidation gene. I admire it, particularly because my instinct in the face of any person I admire highly is to stay as far away as possible and bask in the glow of their presence from afar. People are funny things.

So I'm just beginning to fill out the "big book of forms" that Oberlin sent me, and I'm falling in love with the school again. Yes, it asks for gender, but everywhere it does the options are male, female, and transgender. I felt a bit like checking all three, but I just checked the last one. It makes me so happy that they're that aware. I mean, it seems dumb, and like something every form should have (if not just a blank for you to write your gender in, if they require you to give it), but it's still nice to see that my college rocks. And the co-op application (a more commune-like environment, where students do all the cooking and cleaning and budgeting and such) lists its gender options as male, female, androgynous, and don't identify. I was tempted to check the last one there, just because it's great that they allow that, but I went with andro.

The one issue this bring up, of course, is that I need to come out to my parents as trans (and Eli, for that matter), um... yesterday. So yeah. I'm going to have to work on that.

Okay, so dondevagina, harris06, infidel, and inparticolare: what co-ops would you recommend I request (room and board or just board, either way), and which would you steer me away from? I'm vegetarian leaning vegan, but I'd prefer not to live in the middle of a pothead/party zone, if possible. Also, don't want to live in all-freshman or single-sex housing, even by room if I can swing it. Still, I don't want to be the only freshman (the new hall in Noah e.g.) in my building, though. Picky, I know. And what dorms would you recommend/not recommend for me, if not a co-op?

Also: what recommendations do you have in terms of an advisor to request? I'm thinking I want someone in sociology, gender studies, or English. Any leads on a few profs you think I'd get on well with? Thanks muchly for the help!

In other news, I've got a few pictures from We the People nationals and prom to share:

Unit Six after everyone finished the final round of nationals. From the left: Ben, (who's going to college with me-- crap!) Kaity, Matt, and me


The whole team in the senate hearing room


Prior to prom




And in the spirit of filling out all these forms

Tonight I was at a party at my old American lit teacher's house with about eighteen other previous students of his. At one point, because his home is small and I don't take well to large, raucous crowds unless I'm in the absolute right mood, I was sitting on the front stoop with a couple of other people, enjoying the balmy weather and watching lightning bugs swoop and swirl their way across his immaculate lawn. Somehow or another we had started talking about sprawl, and why America is so different from continental Europe in this respect (and maybe the UK as well?). Now, I'm grateful that I go to a school where kids (1) gladly show up for a potluck at an English teacher's house when it has no chance of boosting their grade and (2) know enough to talk about this issue, but suddenly one girl said, "You know, I agree that things shouldn't be zoned so as to promote sprawl, but you definitely need some control. I mean, if you didn't have that, somebody could just put up a trailer next to my four hundred thousand dollar house."

I about died on the spot.

( Exactly! )

I wish I knew how to explain, sincerely and truthfully but without becoming self-righteous or intimidating, how offensive and harmful cultural appropriation is. How isolating oneself in a community of similarly gendered, raced, religioned, opinioned, moneyed people hurts everyone.

The situation I was in tonight was one where the ideal me would have been able to step in and say, "Stop, I think there's a side to your actions that you're not considering, here's a bit of why I think so," and left it at that. If she wanted to know more, she could ask, but that way I wouldn't come off so judgemental. But in the heat of the moment, all I can do is steam silently or explode with liberal rage at how naive and selfish people are being.

I need to learn to remember that not everyone's parents subscribe to In These Times and Mother Jones, and that most things I take for granted are views many people have never come across before. And I need to learn how to represent them with the respect and dignity (not to mention honesty and clarity) that they deserve. I hope Oberlin can help.

Tonight was our senior awards assembly, and when they read off the achievement I'm most proud of, it read "being published in the journal of the Sexuality Information and Education Council of the US." Now, while I am very proud of that distinction, it got me thinking about what I'm actually proud of from these past few years. The sort of things you couldn't say on the school stage as well as the acceptable ones. Here's what I've come up with:

-playing the guitar and singing in the school talent show and getting lots of compliments
-being (and singing) in every single Governor's School spring show, with a major role three out of the four years
-singing a solo at Carnegie Hall
-being ranked the highest level singer in the Berklee College of Music summer jazz program and getting to sing in front of 1,500 people
-completing a mentorship that was as worthwhile as they're supposed to be, and having my mentor say to many people at a recent party at his house that I was really the one mentoring him.
-having my lesbian cherry popped, so to speak
-taking over leadership of the GSA and succesfully doing stuff with it (i.e. the Day of Silence, Diversity Day, student panel, support meetings)
-writing and editing a portfolio of quality poetry
-teaching myself how to play the guitar, at least rudimentarily
-leading a workshop on including transgendered people in your GSA at a local GLSEN summit
-having a great, enriching time at a three-week German immersion program
-getting into my first choice college
-going to prom with the exact person I wanted to, having a blast, and having him tell me it was the first dance he'd been to where he'd truly enjoyed himself and never looked at his watch
-becoming comfortable going without a bra in school and going bare-chested on the highway and such
-leading my We the People unit to be the highest scoring unit six in the country
-learning all the crazy amounts of shit I did for We the People
-earning Mr. Sorrentino's respect
-not doing a huge, 200 point English paper and still getting an A for the semester
-getting an A+ on my final mentorship presentation
-crawling out of severe depression
-figuring out what pronouns and name I need to keep me sane
-becoming friendly with my school's janitors and security guards
-getting an 800 on the writing SAT II and 5's on all the AP tests I've taken
-finding time to read lots of non-curricular books this year
-watching probably less than five hours of television this whole year (not counting movies, of course)
-paying other people's tolls on the Powhite when I had a few extra quarters
-giving voice lessons
-seeing what I wanted at the GLSEN national conference and getting it
-getting an A in the GSGIS science class for the first time ever
-finally becoming okay with the fact that I want to need to have to become a musician

I remember when it seemed amazing that the year was 2004, because that had always been some far off time, the year in which I'd graduate.

Sixteen days, cats. One Six. 16. My robe and mortarboard are in my closet, my German tassel is around my rearview mirror, my tickets are in my locker. I am so. close.

The funny thing is that I'm not at all nostalgic. I almost feel like I should be, but since everyone else seems to have a "finally" sort of attitude, I've apparently let it rub off on me. I just feel more ready than anything else. So long, GSGIS. It's been nice ta know ya and all that jazz, but I've gotta jet.

The reason I'm feeling this sudden closure is because today we presented our ( senior showcases. )

It felt like I did a good job, though. I just never know how to gauge my own poetry, and I couldn't really tell how it came off. Carter, Madison, and Audrey were all highly complimentary, which was great, but they're my friends, and I don't really hold their literary opinions in particularly high esteem, I guess. After getting used to my writer's group, where I get very specific feedback on what's lovely and what's lacking in my work, getting a broad "you were wondeful" seems... not insincere, but just irrelevant, I guess. Great, thanks, now tell me what I could have improved upon.

I'm not a perfectionist, except when it comes to my singing and writing, I guess. Those are the two things that I know I do extremely well, so I want to be able to work towards perfection. Funny how I can accept compliments for everything except those two things, which often seem like the very heart of who I am.

Who were you in a past life? by Kat007
Name:
Birthdate:
Favorite Color:
Country:
You were most probably:	A lonely turtle on an island
If not then you were:	A small time song writer
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

Many thanks to boichick for drawing my attention to this.



( And another, better one )

As he left the GSA room, he said, "You're an amazing person, Liz C______." I asked him why, and he said, "Because you deal with this stuff every day." His heart's clearly in the right place, and I don't blame him at al for this situation. I'm just sorry he had to see the nastiness of his friends when he thought differently of them.

Also, to everyone who commented on my last entry:
Thank you. I needed to hear that I'm not crazy. Your support has been really helpful.

Coming into our gay-straight alliance meeting today at lunch, I was greeted by Andrew, the guy I'm going to prom with. He wanted to talk about what we're doing for dinner (neither of us has been particularly organized about all this, and I don't really care about where we eat) on Saturday, so we figured that out. Then we started talking about after prom, though. I asked him what, if anything, he had planned, and he just said he didn't know exactly. I mentioned that no seniors seemed to being going to the school's post-prom party, but that Katie, a conservative girl who hangs out with many of the same people he does, was having a lot of people over to her house. I didn't really want to go, but I was just mentioning the few things I knew were going on.

He looked at me and suddenly said, "You know, I never really realized how intolerant a lot of my friends are. I mean, now that we're like this (pointer and middle finger together and crossed, meaning tight, although I'd have to say that's not actually a very accurate characterization of our relationship), I've been noticing it. A lot of people have been saying I can't come to the party if I bring you. I mean, I guess it really surprised me."

Wow. I know there are lots of homo- and transphobic people (they generally seem to be the same folks, really) at my school, and indeed my grade. The thing is, it's very covert. People don't often accost me to my face. I've had doors purposefully not held for me, there are people who just refuse to talk to me, but I guess I've learned to ignore it and take it in stride. Most people are nice enough to my face, even friendly. I know they talk about me behind my back, but the bigotry's never been as clear to me before as it was in that moment.

So I was taken aback. I covered well, saying yeah, that kind of intolerance is something I deal with every day. Andrew said, "I guess there's a reason why this club is here. I didn't even see it before. It's so surprising how some people can be," but he didn't go as far as to denounce his friends. So then I said, "Well, if you want to go with them, that's fine. We can both do our own stuff after prom if you like." "Really?" he replied. "I mean, if you're sure it's okay, then I guess that could work." My friend Daniel, higher power (or lack thereof) bless him, was listening in and said, "The answer is 'No way in hell,' Andrew." Andrew looked a bit sheepish and said, "No way in hell," but I could tell he wasn't really convinced, and that he wanted me to take a stand. I shrugged and said it was up to him, but inside I was really shaken. I mean, it's one thing to be told that his friends don't want me around just because I'm queer, but another to have him take me up on the offer to separate so he can hang out with them without me so readily. It felt really horrible. He said if I found something to do afterward and I let him know, he'd probably do it, but if there was nothing else he'd probably go to Katie's party.

I know they're his friends, and it's a lot to ask someone to call his friends on their bigotry. It's not that I feel he has a duty to stick with me the whole night, or that I was hoping we'd be making out on some couch. It's more that it didn't even seem to occur to him that it would hurt me that he'd choose to still hang out with his friends after they were so blatantly intolerant. Or maybe it did occur to him, but the moment I gave him the okay to go, he didn't think twice. He didn't realize I might say I was okay with him going, but not actually mean it. It's not that I want him to stand up for -my- honor, exactly, it's that I want him to stand up against blatant discrimination, period.

As you can probably tell, I'm still really down about this. It ruined the rest of my day. I just kept thinking about how there were people who dislike me, who don't want me around, and they don't even know me. They've never had a conversation with me. I guess I've been sheltered-- going to a pretty damn open school, being out for years, having great parents-- but it hurts to start emerging from that. I don't know whether coming out as trans lately exacerbated the situation, or if it would have been the same thing when I was still "bisexual." I wish I could just shrug it off, say it's their problem, their loss. But he didn't even tell them off, as far as I can tell.

Fuck everyone. Just fuck them.

Fuck.

My May column is finally up. It's about being at the March for Women's Lives as a trans person. I hope you'll check it out:

Keep Your Eyes on the Prize
Eli's OUTspoken! column.

Just taking a moment to acknowledge my über-cool new Tracy Chapman icon. Respect, yo ;)

So. Senior assassins has begun. I just hope I can survive long enough to get my first couple of victims. I went out and bought a cheapie (but long range!) water gun today, and I'm already getting pretty damn vigilant/paranoid, scoping out my front yard before exiting my car and all that. I suppose it's good training for life in a way, because it's always better to be prepared to defend yourself. But it hardly seems healthy to worrying constantly about whether someone's going to shoot you (albeit with a super soaker), particularly after I read about how interpersonal trust in communities is directly related to community viability and all that.

I am so funny. First I start talking about a silly high school senior game, then it morphs into psycho-babble, and then sociology/political theory. It's a good thing I like those aspects of myself, because I often think I'm the only one. I love my friends, but sometimes I just want to hang out with someone who -gets- how I work, rather than appreciating it in an amused, "that Liz/Eli" sort of way.

My family might buy a share in a local organic farm. Then we'd be able to get fresh produce weekly. Members work the farm for four hours at least once in the summer. I'm excited. I've thought before that I might like to spend a few years on an organic agricultural commune, so what better way to try it out?

Sometimes I look around at what people are doing or talking about in school, and I just have to remind myself that I'm going to college in a few months. It's such a relief to have that in the back of my mind. That probably sounds horribly superior, but I guess I just feel more mature than most of my classmates. It's not a value judgment, because I certainly don't think I'm better than them. I just think I'm ready to be around people who are closet to where I'm at. I definitely have more of an idea of what I want to do (and how to go about doing that) than most of my schoolmates seem to. I guess just hearing about all the drama going on over who's eating prom dinner with whom, who's staying with whom at beach week, and what people are looking forward to about college is rather eye-opening for me.

Then again, it really seems less about people's maturity and more their priorities. I have a feeling I'd feel the same way about my associates if I worked in a big corporation or something. When I'm at my writers' group or with activist-oriented types, I just feel right. It's like I don't have to justify why I feel strongly about social justice or art or life because they -get- it. They understand that passion and indignation at injustice, but they're also supportive in a human sort of way. I guess Julia Wise is a prime example of that sort of person in my mind. I'm hoping Oberlin can help me find a community of similarly engaging, committed, affirming folks. I'm hoping I'm not setting myself up for disapointment by placing so many hopes in my school. I'm hoping I'm not just a ridiculously naive, idealistic eighteen-year-old.

I figured out today that you can listen to any past "GenderTalk" radio broadcast on demand. Worthwhile talk radio? Hoodathunk? My home computer's too slow, but the school computers should serve the purpose well. It's not blocked by my school's filtering program, remarkably enough. Praise be!

If you ever have a friend on your friends list threaten suicide or leave a suicide note in their LJ (public or friends only) contact the Livejournal Abuse Team immediately.

The Abuse Team does have more info on each LJer than most of us may have and can contact the users local police department and get them help a lot sooner than an LJ friend could if no one knows his real name or address... Abuse team handles these situations frequently.

jessical, a member of the LJ abuse team says: File a request with the LiveJournal Abuse Team with *all* IRL contact info you have. Sometimes people forget to do that, and in suicide requests, seconds count. A suicide request is usually noticed within 5 minutes of being entered into the abuse requests. At which point, generally at least 5 abuse team members start investigating that and only that. People are called on cell phones to be asked to get to a computer if possible, people are woken up out of a dead sleep, etc.

We work our asses off investigating the case, and as soon as we have a full name, address, etc., the manager of the abuse team (rahaeli) or one of us (I've personally called twice) calls the police in the area to give them as many details as possible -- method planning on being used if known [in case the situation gets violent], whether they're with parents or roommates or their own children, any other relevant stuff we may dig up -- and the cops then send out a car to the site.

Often, due to confidentiality laws and stuff, or just simple busyness, we never hear anything back. We all hold our breath and watch to see if their journal is updated again. Sometimes, we're reassured -- sometimes, we wonder forever.

And generally, across the Internet, if you get a suicide request, it goes to the abuse department, simply because we do so much investigating that we are the most likely to be able to connect words on a screen with a real-life identity.

Yes, harassment complaints may wait a looong while before getting addressed, but we recognize the emergency that suicide requests are.

-jessical, quote from here

Right, so to continue...

After coming out as trans to the two women at the monument and later explaining it to my friend Kevin, it somehow managed to become rather widely known. I mean, I hardly hid it. One night at dinner (in the Chinatown Fuddrucker's, for crying out loud, but I'll save gentrification tirades for later), my Vermonter tablemate Luke and I somehow started talking about drag, and so the fact that I'm genderqueer came up. We talked about it briely, and later, when we were the only ones left at our table, I said, "Holy shit man, do you know that we were just talking about queer and trans stuff at a table with two southern baptists? They didn't even say anything! I think they didn't know what to do when you just took it in stride." He was very surprised, saying our conversation had seemed perfectly natural to him. Later, when I was in his room, talking to him and several other Vermont guys I got to know, he started changing and I said, "I can leave if you want." "No," he said, "there's no need. Like you said, my gender is your gender, right?" I laughed, said "close enough" and stayed put.

Being around the Vermont guys the whole weekend was like that. They didn't ignore the fact that I'm trans, and even made reference to it when it was relevant, but they didn't treat it as anything notable, either. It was just a fact, like the fact they they're guys, and they treated me as androgynous accordingly. It was so refreshing. I mean, being around people whose politics and worldview are much more aligned with mine than those of my Virginia teammates was certainly nice, but the non-issue of my gender was such a relief it's what sticks in my head. It was even better, in some ways, than when I was at the GLSEN conference, because there I felt that in order to be treated correctly I had to wear my tranny status like a badge (otherwise I'd be assumed a lesbian), and most people seemed to be making a conscious effort to be inclusive. This weekend, in contrast, people's interactions with me just seemed much more honest.

I'm hoping that's what college can be like for me-- if I'm out as genderqueer from the beginning, introduce myself as Eli and ask to go by ze and hir in a fairly trans-friendly place, I figure that's not too much of a stretch. It was odd to realize that what I want is so attainable, really. All I have to do is be honest and hang out with people who respect my (rather simple, to be honest) requests.

My We the People team came in second at the national competition, up against 51 other teams from around the country. We did it all with our coach on the other side of the country with his sick wife for almost all of the time we were preparing. We did it with help, but we did it on our own. Although we have made the top ten for years now, last year was the first time our school (and state, for that matter) made it into the top ten, taking first prize. We made it to the top three again, and we did it through our own merit. It feels fucking awesome. I'm still wearing the "silver" medal around my neck.

Being in DC again the weekend after I was there for the protest march was rather bizarre. We kept driving by the mall and the capitol and I'd think at this time last Saturday, I was right over there listening to Alix Olson explain why freedom of choice is a queer issue too or at this time last Saturday, I was standing right here in a throng of 1.15 million people, hoisting signs and chanting slogans, crushed by the crowd but elated just to be there. But then we'd drive past and we'd get to the Korean War memorial or someplace and it would feel like I'd dreamt it all.

On Saturday, after we did our first round of hearings early in the morning, we trooped around DC, doing touristy things. But at Arlington National Cemetary, we stopped to watch the changing of the guard at the Tombe of the Unknown Soldier. There were maybe fifty people there, but I noticed that two women right in front of me were wearing rainbow triangle pins. I assumed they were a couple until I heard one of them say to the man standing next to her, "Does it say 'Transgendered American Veterens Association' on the wreath, or just TAVA?" Holy shit, man. She was being so open, so brave, and suddenly I looked around and realized that our team and the Vermont team we were traveling with was interspersed with members of this group. I introduced myself two the two women, asked them what their group was doing in DC, and told them I was trans as well. They shook my hand. It's odd but comforting, the solidarity that comes from saying those few words. It was as if, even though our lives are probably as different as they could possibly be, we understood each other just by looking into each other's eyes.

A few minutes later, four people who I assume were MtFs presented the wreath, escorted by three marines. Several of the women wore medals and hats from the armed services. The officer in charge said, "Attention: Presenting a wreath in honor of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from the Transgendered American Veterans Association." The woman in front of me started crying quietly, and I could see from all the faces at rapt attention around me that they shared the feeling that they were experiencing something significant.

After we left, I noticed I had tears on my cheeks as well. It was so powerful, so remarkable to be able to witness it. I felt honored, as though I'd been chosen to be present. Several people from our group heard me out myself as trans to the women, and Kevin asked me about it later. I explained briefly, and he just took it in stride. I'm often amazed at how easily people assimilate the knowledge that I consider myself neither a man nor a woman so easily into their heads. When I'm not frustrated at the state of the world, I'm in awe of it, I guess.

More later. There's plenty more to tell.

So I'm making up for the fact that I'm going to be away from the internet until Tuesday night by posting crazy amounts. Deal.

;)

Yesterday in my English class, our teacher was talking about drawing that people in other classes had done. Now, this teacher is a good, well-meaning guy, but he's just not meant to teach gifted high schoolers. He's also fairly conservative and Christian, but in a tolerant sort of way. In any case, he referenced one picture that Carter had drawn and he referred to him as "she." I corrected him right away, asserting "he" immediately, but more forcefully than I meant to. It's an automatic response I have when someone uses the wrong pronoun, without even thinking. It feels defensive, oddly enough. Not like I'm protecting Carter, but like I'm redressing an injustice or something.

The teacher had corrected himself right after he made the mistake, but it was too late, as I'd already pointed it out. So then he said, "I got it," all angry-like and defensively aggressive. I wish I could explain to him that I didn't jump in because I like to reprimand him, but because I really want people to only see Carter correctly, so I correct anyone as soon as they use the wrong pronoun. In this instance in particular, I wasn't sure if the teacher regularly used the right pronouns and/or messed them up with some regularity (and I thought the "mess up" might have been purposeful, to "prove a point", so to speak). The teacher came up to me this morning and talked to me for a few mintues, explaining how it was an honest mistake and he almost always gets the pronouns right. He said it's a "great situation that Carter's in, but it's a new one for me." I wanted to say "fuck you, it's not a great situation, it's just an accident of birth," because it sounded like he was assuming being trans is a choice, but I didn't go there. I knew he meant well, so I smiled through my teeth.

It's still really frustrating, though. Every time someone messes up a pronoun, it makes me feel like they don't see Carter as male, at least completely or without having to think about it. That makes me so mad. Not at them, exactly, but at the world.

And of course, I can't claim it's all (or even at all) about being a good friend. It's also about me, and my gender shit. If someone messes up Carter's pronouns, it makes me realize that my own need to be referred to by gender-neutral pronouns is just that much more foreign from people's experience. The fact that Carter's male is so obvious to me that I get offended when anyone refuses or fails to acknowledge it. And if people can't even get it straight that he's a guy, how the hell am I supposed to ever live in this world without going crazy?

I mean, as soon as people in my classes get into discussing "inherent" sex differences or even just binary assumptions, I tend to disengage because that's the easiest way to protect myself from the hurt I'd be opening myself up to otherwise by listening or trying to explain why they're wrong, just so wrong. It feels impossible to explain people's misconceptions and false assupmtions without getting personal, and my gender is a very fragile issue for me because I'm often afraid that my whole sense of self can be de-legitimized just by someone telling me that it's ridiculous, that I'm a girl and I always will be no matter what I do, that I have "female energy" or any of the fucking transphobic shit that gets thrown around so carelessly and without a thought. I know that the more I address people's blatantly false assumptions, the better off -everyone- will be, both future transpeople and gender normative folks as well. I feel like I owe it to the world, since I'm pretty damn secure in my gender (yeah, well, relative to a lot of GV folks my age, damnit), to be an activist in my daily life and do trans 101 as much as possible.

But that's exhausting. I can't devote my life to making other people's lives better. I have to balance my desire to better society and smash patriarchical, binary assumptions with my own need for a modicum of stable mental health.

We leave for We the People nationals tomorrow. I know what percentage of American high school seniors are not contacted by anyone asking them to register to vote. I know what amendments are not included in the doctrine of incorporation and thus do not have to be upheld by the states. I know the Supreme Court case in which it was established that we do not have the right to equal education and poor people are not a specifica class that can bring cases under the equal protection clause. I know the philosophical basis for the differences between European democratic socialism and American capitalism.

I know not to bring up the fact that I think the US is a brutal imperialist power (thanks, A dF), that I am a queer transkid, or that I fully support polyamory in rounds. Everything else is game.

Do I know enough? This weekend I'm going to find out. At least I'll loo, damn sexy in my andro-suit doing it. Fuck yeah.

( Aiee Manuela! )

I was going back through the document I have of all of my journal entries from freshman year until junior year (I wrote on another site then, free from the eyes of anyone I knew "in real life," which meant much more long-winded psycho-babble and a generally more narrative and less conversational style) in order to find my first description of myself as psychologically androgynous. I used the "find word" function and typed in "gender." It was really fascinating, what I found.

Freshman year, I had a crush on Carter (javert310), who's one of my best friends now (the crush is long gone). Meeting him freshman year, he was still going by female pronouns and a rather gender-amgiguous name, and he didn't pass (i.e. come across as male to strangers) with too much regularity. Sophomore year he switched pronouns and names and began passing more regularly (I think, the timeline's a little fuzzy in my head). Point is, it was really amazing to read what I thought about, gender-wise, three years ago on.

In the beginning I was seriously in need of some trans-101-- the shit I cringe at now (like people confusing sex and gender, saying "his 'real' gender," referring to someone as "a transgender"...) was rampant. And reading paragraphs where I say things like "I've never felt female, but I have no problem with my body, so I'm obviously not trans" makes me laugh at how hopelessly naive I was. So odd. I hadn't realized just how much I'd changed in four years, just with regard to gender. As the journal progresses, I begin lamenting gender as a whole, wishing it didn't exist. This makes a lot of sense now, since I didn't think there were options outside of the gender binary (male/female dichotomy), but back then it was extremely confusing. I talked a lot about "wishing to be androgynous," by which I meant physically andro, because I didn't exactly realize that one's sense of one's sex (i.e. how one feels about one's body) and gender don't have to be in tandem.

If I had this year to do over again, I wouldn't do much differently. I've had a great senior year, even better than my freshman year, which is saying something. Junior year sucked, sophomore year was a blur, but this year has been lovely.

I would, however, have begged Mr. Sorrentino not to put Ben Shapiro on my We the People unit. I really think I might kill him. And maybe Kaity Smoot, but at least she knows facts and doesn't make shit up just to prove a point. If there's one thing We the People has taught me this year, it's that I can only take bullshit for so long before it's best to remove myself from the situation to defuse my boiling frustration. When you're already mad at someone and then he starts singing out of key or tapping the wall arhythmically, it's remarkable how easy it would be to strangle him "accidentally."

Deep breath.

To be honest, I just wonder what it must be like to be on a functional unit.

/end We the People bitching

I saw the Oberlin contingency at the march, but I saw too shy to go up and talk to them. They seemed pretty self-contained. I'm sure they would have been nice and welcoming and all that (and hey, there was a hot queer-girl-seeming kid who was sitting all alone in their group), but I just couldn't muster up the ovaries to introduce myself. I wrote more about my experience at the march as a transgendered person for next month's column in "OUTspoken!" so that should be up next weekend or thereabouts. I will write about the more personal aspects here soon, I promise, but I'm just not in the right headspace to do so at the moment.

This sounds horrible, but after being on this dating site for a while (no, I'm not soliciting internet SOs, just having a bit of fun), I'm struck by how I actually am a pretty damned good catch, particularly when you take the fact that I'm neither ignorant nor narcissistic into account (this paragraph to the contrary on the latter account, perhaps). Before I thought I was fairly average looking, but comparisons to others' photos and the comments of quite a few strangers have convinced me that I'm, well, at least above average. Of course, ranking people based on looks and all that is completely ludicrous, as each person's aesthetic standards are different and one cat's personality prince is another's Carrot Top. It's more like I apparently appeal to a wider spectrum of folks than I'd expected, both in terms of looks and presentation, at least through the written word. It's nice to be reminded that once I'm out there on the market, so to speak, I'll likely have no shortage of options if I fancy that. I don't even seem to scare the straight guys away, oddly enough (and a few straight women haven't even been deterred).