feature image via shutterstock
A new study from Stanford university researchers indicates that LGBTQ medical students in the United States and Canada have strong fears of discrimination that lead them not to discuss their queer and trans identities. The study, which appears in the journal Academic Medicine is one of the first to examine sexual and gender diversity among medical students.
The Stanford research team, made up primarily of members of their LGBT Medical Education Research Group, sent out surveys to every medical student in the United States and Canada during the 2009-2010 academic year. While only a little under six percent of the surveys were returned, this still represented an impressive 5000+ participant pool to draw data from. Of those who responded, 917 self-identified as a “sexual or gender minority (SGM),” a term defined by the study group. Of those who identified as an SGM, nearly 30% indicated that they were not “out” to their medical school peers and instructors. While about 60% of those who were not out noted that it was because it was “nobody’s business,” almost 44% said it was due to fears of harassment or discrimination. Among those identified as a “gender minority,” the numbers are even worse: 60% were not out to their colleagues, and fears of discrimination and lack of support cited as the most common reasons.
The researchers shared some of the free-text responses from the study participants regarding their reasons for not keeping quiet about their identities. They’re all pretty disheartening. One young bisexual woman said:
“I’ve also met multiple people who believe that bisexuality does not exist. In particular, I feel that claims of bisexuality in women are regarded with suspicion—attempts at gaining attention because of the appeal of “girl-on-girl”…. When I came out about being bisexual to a very well-educated medical school colleague of mine (at the top of his class, multiple degrees, extensive knowledge about politics), he innocently commented that he never quite understood the idea of threesomes and asked whether my bisexuality meant that I would want to marry both a man and a woman. I was totally taken aback that even a highly educated peer could so honestly equate bisexuality with polygamy.”
Another of these responses unfortunately provides some reinforcement for why transgender students may be disinclined to disclose their trans status when she misgenders a patient in the course of her comment:
“I have only shared my orientation with a few friends whom I feel to be accepting. No faculty know, that I’m aware of, because I fear their prejudices will affect my grades consciously or unconsciously…. I have found no faculty who seem accepting of LGBT people based on their casual conversations, discussion about patients…. On my surgery rotation, we saw a male-to-female transgender patient who had “do-it-yourself” silicone breast implants which had become infected. He was treated like a freak by the residents and attendings behind closed doors, joking at his expense. “
Taking a deeper look at the data provides some interesting insight into the difficulties that this kind of research poses when the progressive individual identities of young people bump up against the need for researchers to use boxes. Of the 912 GSM respondents, 148 (over 16%) indicated they identified with “multiple sexual identities,” though the researchers do get some credit for including both “queer” and “questioning” as potential responses.
Unfortunately, it appears probable that their question construction for gender minorities may have frustrated their efforts to capture data about transgender students. For gender, the participants were only given the options of male, female, “female-to-male transgender,” “male-to-female transgender” and “other gender identity.” This is unfortunate and significant othering of trans people, and the use of antiquated “MTF/FTM” language may have caused transgender students to instead self-identify as male or female. Considering that 22 of the 35 gender minority participants elected “other gender identity” as their selection, it seems possible that some granularity in the data was lost. Indeed, even Stanford’s own news post on this publication referred to the gender minority students in this study as “those identifying as something other than male or female,” failing to grasp the concept of transgender identities entirely.
Regardless, this study provides important insight into the barriers faced by LGBTQ medical students early on in their careers. It’s certainly perfectly understandable that some students will choose not to disclose their gender identities or sexual orientations for a simple preference for personal privacy. However, the fact that significant numbers of queer and transgender medical students remain closeted in their professional environs because they fear discrimination or lack support from their institutions, peers, and mentors is incredibly concerning, though certainly justified in the homophobic climate of medical schools. Visibility remains one of the key methods of combatting anti-LGBTQ biases, and given how poorly queer doctors are treated, the depressing lack of LGBTQ health education in medical school, and the dismal state of medical care for the queer and transgender communities, we need as many out doctors as possible. The Stanford research team seems to grasp this notion strongly, noting in the conclusion to their paper:
“Although SGM students often experience a different and occasionally hostile environment during training, they also bring a unique and underrepresented perspective to medicine. In particular, these individuals may be much more likely to pursue careers that encompass caring for SGM patients, who face significant health and health care access disparities. All medical students deserve a safe and respectful environment that fosters individual development and success during undergraduate medical training. As such, all institutions must take active steps to better support SGM individuals in medicine.”
So far, a trans woman or gender non-conforming person of color has been murdered in the United States every week of 2015. This week, the horrifying trend continued when 21-year-old Black trans woman Penny Proud of New Orleans was shot multiple times early in the morning of February 10. She joins fellow trans women of color Yazmin Vash Payne, Ty Underwood, Lamia Beard and Taja DeJesus and gender non-conforming person of color Lamar Edwards, all of whom were under the age of 35.
Penny Proud via The Advocate
Trans people of color are not taking this sitting down. At the recent Creating Change conference in Denver, queer and trans people of color stormed the stage demanding to be heard, demanding that their lives be given respect and demanding that actual changes begin to take place. They chanted “Trans Lives Matter” and “Jessie! Presente!” before denouncing the conference for inviting Denver Mayor Michael Hancock to speak. (Police in Denver recently murdered 17-year-old queer Latina Jessie Hernandez.)
Before any large news outlets reported on Proud’s murder, the New Orleans LGBT youth of color group BreakOUT! put out a press release. They called out news channels and websites for contributing to the violence against trans women by misgendering the victims after they die.
These deaths had little to no mainstream media attention. The silence and lack of action from media on behalf of the Black transgender community sends a strong message that Black Trans Lives, in fact, do not matter. When these deaths were covered, they were often not given the respect they so deserve. Transgender women are often misgendered in news reports and their stories are often riddled with patronization and condescending opinions from reporters.
Not only does the media often underreport these murders or misgender the victims, but the police often fail to make an arrest or get a solid conviction. In the case of Underwood, police have arrested a suspect, Carlton Champion, Jr., who was dating Underwood. Despite the fact that Champion was “expecting sexual favors from Underwood that morning and found out she was transgender,” police are refusing to call this a hate crime, arguing that hate crimes cannot be perpetrated against a victim who is in a relationship with her attacker.
Ty Underwood. Photo from Facebook
The fact that most of these violent crimes are perpetrated against trans women and gender non-conforming people of color, most of them Black, cannot be ignored when we talk about this problem. The National Coalition of Anti-Violence reports that almost 90% of LGBTQ homicide victims in 2013 were people of color, 72% were transgender women, and 67% were trans women of color. In 2014, twelve out of the fourteen trans women of color murdered in the United States were Black.
Trans women of color, like those from BreakOUT! and those at the Creating Change conference, want this to end right now and are letting others know exactly what needs to be done to make that happen. In their press release, BreakOUT! put out a call for action to the media, the police and to their communities, saying, “We are calling on the media to respect all transgender people and their families by using the correct pronouns and names for transgender victims and use current photographs to allow our community to maintain dignity both in life and in death.” They also demanded that trans women of color be made to feel safe in their own communities, adding, “Instead of more police, we need more investment in education, jobs, and housing for LGBTQ people, particularly Black transgender young women.” At Creating Change, Bamby Sacledo listed the protesters’ demands.
We’re here demanding intentional, meaningful investment in our community and in our community efforts to end this motherfucking epidemic. We are demanding funders and organizers, especially LGBT foundations and granters, to intentionally invest in the trans community… We demand meaningful equity of resources in order to eradicate our economic and health crisis that our brothers and sisters face daily. LGBT and ally organizations need to hire trans people in leadership and give us leadership positions within those organizations. We demand these organizations be intentionally inclusive in providing leadership opportunities for the trans community.
We need to start listening before we find out which trans woman of color is murdered next week.
feature image via National LGBTQ Task Force
The annual LGBTQ activism conference “Creating Change” got off to an explosive start in Denver when a group of trans and queer people of color stormed the stage in protest at the opening plenary. The action was sparked by the recent death of an unarmed 17-year-old queer Latina, Jessie Hernandez, at the hands of a Denver Police officer, along with the murders of trans women of color — Lamia Beard, Ty Underwood, Goddess Edwards, Yazmin Payne, and Taja Gabrielle de Jesus — across the country in the last month.
As plenary host Kate Clinton was making her opening remarks, dozens of protesters marched to the stage and took to the podium. They carried signs saying “Not 1+ Trans Life” and “Trans Leadership now. They lead the assembled crowd in chanting “Trans Lives Matter” and “Jessie! Presente!” as Trans Latina Coalition president Bamby Salcedo stepped to the microphone to voice the concerns of QTPOC community. Salcedo wasted no time into getting right to the heart of their life-or-death concerns:
“Our community is getting killed. We’re here to bring awareness and attention to the issues of structural violence that continues to kill trans people, particularly trans people of color.”
Protestors raise fists in solidarity. (image via The National LGBTQ Task Force)
She went on to list out their demands:
“We’re here demanding intentional, meaningful investment in our community, and in our community efforts to end this motherf*cking epidemic. We are demanding funders and organizers, especially LGBT foundations and granters, to intentionally invest in the trans community… We demand meaningful equity of resources in order to eradicate our economic and health crisis that our brothers and sisters face daily. LGBT and ally organizations need to hire trans people in leadership and give us leadership positions within those organizations. We demand these organizations be intentionally inclusive in providing leadership opportunities for the trans community. If you serve us, you need to include us.”
Denver Mayor Michael Hancock had been scheduled to address the Creating Change opening plenary, and a second speaker from the protest made it clear that they were not pleased the National LGBTQ’ Task Force’s decision to invite him to the conference:
“We welcome you to Denver, a city that is mourning the loss of a sister, a warrior, a lover, and a fellow queer person, whose life was taken last Monday at the hands of Denver Police. We see it as hypocritical that the mayor of Denver, the city with the second highest rate of police killings, would be invited here to welcome you all to Denver.”
As the protesters left the stage, Task Force Deputy Executive Director Russell Roybal graciously thanked the protesters for their voices:
“On behalf of all of at the Task Force, thank you for coming on stage. Thank you for taking it over. Thank you for holding not only the Task Force accountable, but our elected officials accountable, everyone accountable because we… are all part of the same community.”
Roybal also announced that the mayor would not be speaking, to the applause and cheers of the crowd.
A complete video of the protest was posted by The Task Force on Youtube.
The Creating Change conference continues through Sunday in Denver.
Economic injustice hits queer and trans people hard. We’ve covered how queer people of color are uniquely affected by barriers to employment, how trans people are vulnerable to incredibly high rates of violence and discrimination, how bisexual women are subject to higher levels of mental and physical health issues, and how queer and trans people are disproportionately affected when programs like unemployment and food stamps are cut. At Autostraddle, we’ve experienced the challenges of sustaining ourselves while we work to sustain this business run for and by queer women, because there’s not a lot of money out there supporting queer women’s media that queer women actually make.
Sometimes, it can be hard to parse out exactly why queer and trans people have such a hard time getting by while the headlines would suggest we are advancing by leaps and bounds. On January 23rd and 24th, queer and trans people converged in New York City for the Invisible Lives, Targeted Bodies Conference to explore how the struggle for queer and trans justice and liberation is inextricably linked to struggles for economic, racial, immigrant, disability and reproductive justice. The conference, was part of the Queer Survival Economies initiative at the Barnard Center for Research on Women (BCRW), run by Amber Hollibaugh. Hollibaugh is the former executive director of Queers for Economic Justice, an organization which closed last year because of the very economic issues it was formed to address.
Hollibaugh said, “The title of the conference is “Invisible Lives, Targeted Bodies” because on the one hand, we’re never referred to as having the economic problems, and yet we are particularly targeted when we try to survive.”
Panelist Veronica Bayetti Flores said, “When we’re talking about queer bodies, immigrant bodies, black and brown bodies, disabled bodies, those disrupt white supremacy and heteropatriarchy — and that’s the context in which we see a lot of criminalization of these communities. When I think of queer survival economies, I think of bodies that disrupt the social order by surviving, existing and thriving.”
Reina Gossett also pointed out how visibility can create conditions for bodies to be more heavily targeted: “Violence against trans women of color has risen, and visibility of trans women of color has risen, so those things have happened at the same time: visibility going up, and violence going up.”
Reina Gossett, Cara Page and Terry Boggis discuss reproductive justice and healthcare access. via @MargotDWeiss
The conference was sponsored by the Murphy Institute, BCRW, the Retail Action Project, and the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union. Janet Jakobsen, director of the BCRW, spoke to the potential of collaboration across activists, unions and academics: “It’s absolutely crucial for activists in social justice that we build knowledge and that we do so in a way that empowers people.”
Invisible Lives, Targeted Bodies highlighted struggles that are typically left out of single-issue LGBT causes like the fight for marriage, or even the fight for employment nondiscrimination laws. If LGBT organizing is just about marriage, then it’s easy to erase the narratives of people who aren’t interested in marriage, or for whom marriage doesn’t solve all their problems. If labor organizing is just about what goes on in the workplace, it’s easy to erase people with disabilities, immigrants or people who are gender non-conforming, many of whom can’t get jobs at all.
The conference heard from organizers that do work in and outside of union models. SEIU 1199 LGBTQ Caucus member Carmen Acosta pointed out that queer economic justice isn’t just about queer visibility in the labor movement — it’s also about bringing labor organizing to queer organizations. Acosta organized with healthcare professionals at the Callen-Lorde Clinic in New York. Acosta said, “We got a yes vote for becoming members of 1199 SEIU, and they’re mostly transgender and LGBTQ people.” Kenyon Farrow another former executive director of Queers for Economic Justice discussed early conversations at QEJ around working conditions in so-called “gay establishments,” like bars and drag clubs in Chelsea, and what happens to older people as they age out of work that happens in cash economies and don’t have access to social security or other state benefits.
Conference-goer Aya, who writes at the Bad Black, spoke to the importance of developing businesses that serve queer people without being exploitative. “I’m thinking about creating our own businesses and things that we’re proud of and that don’t fund our oppression.”
Yana Calou and isis from the Retail Action Project (RAP) discussed organizing workers from various retail stores around wage theft and scheduling. RAP partnered with Make The Road New York to investigate hiring discrimination against trans and gender-non-conforming people. While RAP is based in New York City, Calou pointed out that organizing amongst retail workers can happen anywhere:
“Whether or not you have the union, there are always going to be more of you than there are your boss…You always have the ability to walk out collectively, whether or not you have a workers’ center. You always have the ability to come together and say, “what are our demands? what are the things that are bothering us? We’re going to collectively write a letter and say, ‘we don’t care what your excuse is, we want more hours.” Workers can shut a store down completely by calling in. Workers can do creative things without unions like calling out sick altogether to protest a lack of paid sick days, And when workers work together, whether or not they have the protection of a labor union, it’s protected activity.”
RAP organizers call for a wage increase outside the Zara flagship store in Manhattan via RAP
RAP member isis spoke to her experiences while working in a clothing store for 11 years, including during her transition. Isis experienced harassment from management, who told her she needed to “pick one gender or the other,” because she was “distracting” employees and customers, but when she tried to emulate the style of her manager, she was accused of dressing provocatively.
Riya Ortiz from Damayan Migrant Workers Association and Daniel Puerto from Make the Road New York discussed organizing across immigrant worker communities and building worker co-ops.
But the conference wasn’t limited to discussions of labor organizing, because economic injustice isn’t just about what happens in the workplace; it’s about the broad structural barriers that keep queer people from being able to survive and thrive. This happens in a lot of ways. Here are a just a few:
The Disability Justice Collective spoke to how ableism and stigma/discrimination surrounding mental illness are central to the dynamics that create economic injustice for disabled and queer people within capitalism:
“…there’s shame around being sick and disabled, which directly correlates to tropes of laziness, undeserving, sucking the system — much like harmful stereotypes against trans community, migrant community, fat community, communities of people of color… Disability and illness are more likely to happen for people who are already vulnerable and marginalized within current dominant culture. Those are the ones who are forced into exploitative, dangerous, non-unionized, physical labor and menial work in underground economies, due to their citizenship status, educational background, racism, classism, transphobia and misogyny. …Oppressive, discriminatory, exploitative, and inhumane working conditions mean LGBTQI people of color and poor whites experience high levels of state control and low levels of respectful support and resources. Consequently, we live with high levels of physical and psychological fatigue, injuries, disabilities and illness.”
Several panelists pointed to the connections between economic injustice and the prison industrial complex, and the disproportionate impact these have on queer and trans communities of color. Andrea Ritchie and Flores, who both work with Streetwise and Safe, both stressed that when it comes to the policing of queer and trans people, it’s queer and trans people of color who are the primary targets of police abuse and violence. The We Deserve Better report by BreakOUT in New Orleans and Streetwise and Safe in New York found that 87% of their youth respondents of color had been approached by police, as opposed to 33% of white respondents. In Queers for Economic Justice’s “A Fabulous Attitude” 29% of their sample, which was 85% people of color, had been strip-searched by police, and 1/5 had been physically assaulted, and these numbers were higher for trans and cis women and homeless people.
Streetwise and Safe demand an end to police brutality. via @SASYOUTHNYC
This targeting happens through various means. Police profile trans women of color — particularly black trans women. Homeless people are criminalized for sleeping or having sex in public places when there’s literally nowhere else for them to be. Broken Windows policing and Stop and Frisk lend themselves to criminalizing queer and trans bodies because, as Flores noted, officers are trained to “go with their guts,” and to ask questions if something doesn’t feel “right.” This means that gender non-conformity is literally read as a sign of criminality and as reason for officers to conduct invasive searches to determine people’s gender.
Increased contact with police means people are at risk of being incarcerated in prisons where they are subject to extremely violent conditions. Formerly incarcerated people then face incredible obstacles to finding employment, often turning back to illegal economies because it’s the only way they can make money to survive.
I couldn’t transcribe the whole conference right here (though I basically tried, if you want to see my notes), so I would strongly recommend you hear straight from conference panelists themselves, many of whom have organized and developed these analyses across their communities for years, in the video footage of the conference. If you have several hours, pull them up and watch, or listen while you make art or something. Here are the links:
Day 1: “LGBTQ Perspectives on Surviving in Poor and Low-Income Communities” with Andrea Ritchie, Kenyon Farrow, Yana Calou, Scot Nakagawa and Sebastian Margaret, followed by “The Impact of Economic Injustice” with Rebecca Lurie, Marta Ames, Kate D’Adamo, isis, Hamid Khan, Riya Ortiz and Daniel Puerto.
Day 2 Part 1: “Queer Migrations” with Veronica Bayetti Flores, Amanda Lugg and Steven Romano
Day 2 Part 2: “Gender, Sexuality, HIV and Reproductive Justice” with Reina Gossett, Cara Page, Terry Boggis
If I knew how, I’d attempt to make some sort of 3D visual model of the ideas presented at the conference, because the whole point of this conference seemed, to me, to be that none of these issues are really possible to parse out from each other. What I can give you is a chart that Queers for Economic Justice made:
For even more, check out the LiveTweeting from the conference and A Fabulous Attitude, the participatory action research survey by the Welfare Warriors Research Collaborative, which touches on many of the issues discussed at the conference.
Issues of economic (in)justice are big, and looking at them can be overwhelming, because that’s when we see how much work there is to be done for queer and trans liberation. There are so many ways to do that work. A place to start is by addressing the specific needs of your own communities. You can also join or donate to any one of the amazing organizations or groups that already do brilliant work. You can support Autostraddle so we can keep publishing articles about the many issues intertwined with economic (in)justice. Economic justice is critical for all of us.
by rory midhani
I am far, far from the only person who’s going to tell you this, but Image is putting out some of the best comics not only of this year, but of any year I can think of. They’re not one of the “Big Two” comics companies, but if you were to judge based on quality of product, they’d straight up be The Big One. They’ve got Saga, The Wicked + The Divine, ODY-C, Bitch Planet, Sex Criminals, Rat Queens and seemingly dozens of other titles that are regularly showered with praise by both critics and fans alike. Seriously, sometimes it blows my mind that Image isn’t more popular than Marvel and DC combined. Obviously, a huge part of the reason is brilliantly-crafted original and creative stories, characters and art, but you can be sure that a part of their success, and a part of their ability to create such amazing stories and characters is due to their commitment to diverse characters, including trans ones.
Luci, Cassandra and Laura in The Wicked + The Divine. Art by Jamie McKelvie
Right now, Image Comics has four trans women characters that I know about, and there could easily be more. The Wicked + The Divine, Keiron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie‘s series about a biracial British teen named Laura and a group of gods who reincarnate as teenagers and become superstars every 90 years. One of the main characters who isn’t a part of the pantheon is a journalist named Cassandra, who is also a Japanese-British trans woman. Now, Cassandra is cool. She interviews and writes stories on these gods who, frankly don’t impress her much, and when she comes face-to-face with them as they show off their literally god-level power, she’s still not impressed in the slightest. She’s got ice-cold blood running through her veins, but she’s also one of the only people Laura can trust. There’s even this great moment in issue #5 where Luci, who is literally Lucifer, the devil, apologizes to Cassandra for a transphobic dig she made earlier. Yes, even the literal devil knows that being transphobic is wrong.
Braga, art by Tess Fowler
The second trans woman in an Image comic that I read is from Rat Queens, a book about a Dungeons and Dragonsesque all-female group of adventurers. This book recently had a bit of trouble as its artist was charged with domestic abuse, but they quickly switched in a new artist and in the very next issue revealed that one of its secondary characters, the orc Braga, is a trans woman. Braga first made her debut in the first issue of the series as the leader of one of The Rat Queens’ rival groups, The Peaches. However, when their town was under attack, she proved to be a valuable ally. In the oneshot Braga #1 we get to see an extended back story for her and we find out, among other things, that she is a trans woman.
Zhen laying down some truths in Trees. Art by Jason Howard
As for trans women in comics I’ve yet to read, Trees by Warren Ellis and Shutter by Joe Keatinge both step up to bat. In Shutter, which has been described as an “Indiana Jones-style urban fantasy” starring a woman of color, the main character’s best friend is Alain, a Filipina trans woman. Trees is a science fiction series is about how people on Earth are reacting ten years after a series of tree-like alien lifeforms landed all over the planet and took root. One of these “trees” landed in the fictional Chinese city of Shu, and that’s where the character Chenglei, and Zhen, the trans woman he wants to date, live. When Chenglei goes to his uncle to get advice on whether or not he should keep pursuing her, his uncle tells him to stop being stupid about it and go talk to Zhen instead. This is also when Chenglei’s uncle comes out as a trans man to his nephew.
There’s also a bit more representation for trans men and non-binary characters. There’s Telem, Odyssia’s son in Matt Fraction’s ODY-C. This retelling of The Odyssey exists in a universe where everyone is either a woman or intersex, save for one person named He, who is this stories’ Helen of Troy. Odyssia is thinking back on her home, including her child Telem, whom she remembers as her daughter. However, on the final page of issue #1, we see that Telem is actually her son. Now, it’s not clear if Telem is trans, but that’s one strong possibility, as Odyssia was there when he was a baby and seems to think that he’s a girl. Finally, there’s the character Inanna in the previously mentioned The Wicked + The Divine. Inanna is a goddess who was reincarnated in a person who, up until then, had been presenting as male. After they became Inanna, however, they started presenting much more androgynously (actually, pretty much like Prince), saying that now that they’re a goddess (and they do talk about themself as being a “goddess”), they feel more free to be their true self.
It would be nice to see more diversity among the trans characters in comics, though. If you include Alysia Yeoh from DC Comics’ Batgirl, that makes four out of four human trans women in comics that I know of who are ethnically Asian (which might say something about the way Asian people are often exoticized and Asian people who are assigned male at birth are often feminized). I’m definitely not complaining that they’re trans women of color, but still, some more diversity would be nice. Also, more non-binary and trans men characters would be nice. And hey, I’m still looking for the first straightforward trans woman super hero.
Alain from Shutter. Art by Leila Del Duca
These are just the trans characters that we know about. Image Comics’ and these creators’ willingness to embrace diversity in their comics shows that it’s likely that this is only the tip of the iceberg. And then there’s the fact that other Image titles, like Kelly Sue DeConnick’s brilliant Bitch Planet (which Deconnick said has a trans woman character whose past hasn’t been revealed yet) and Fraction and Chip Zdarsky’s Sex Criminals (which I’ve heard trans character rumors about) already have trans characters who haven’t been revealed as being trans. As long as Image keeps on putting out such a high level of quality comics, and as long as those comics have trans women, it’s going to continue to be one of my favorite sources, not just for comics, but for any kind of entertainment of any medium.
As a side note, this past Sunday was Hourly Comic Day, where comic creators draw a short comic for every hour that they’re awake. Several Drawn to Comics favorites participated, including Strong Female Protagonist artist Molly Ostertag, As The Crow Flies creator Melanie Gillman, Through the Woods author and illustrator Emily Carroll, Help Us! Brave Warrior creator Madeleine Flores and our very own Saturday Morning Cartoons artist Anna Bongiovanni. You can also check out your favorite artists’ tumblrs, twitters or instagrams to see if they participated.
Steven Universe #7 (Boom!)
Angel and Faith Season 10 #11 (Dark Horse)
New Vampirella #9 (Dynamite)
Red Sonja Vulture’s Circle #2 (Dynamite)
Saga #25 (Image)
Wytches #4 (Image)
Angela: Asgard’s Assassin #3 (Marvel)
Ms. Marvel #11 (Marvel)
Operation S.I.N. #2 (Marvel)
Unbeatable Squirrel Girl #2 (Marvel)
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
Transgender representation on TV is slowly but steadily getting better. Last year, Laverne Cox became the first openly transgender actor to snag an Emmy nomination. This year, Transparent, the first show to feature a transgender woman as the lead character, won two Golden Globe Awards. And just a few weeks ago, WEtv premiered a new reality series called Love Thy Sister, which features Londyn Smith de Richelieu, a black transgender woman who is longtime friends with one of the show’s three sisters. This week’s episode focuses heavily on Londyn, her relationship with Ione Rucker and her experiences as a trans woman.
Londyn was gracious enough to spend some time chatting with us about the episode and her hopes and fears when it comes to being a trans woman on reality TV. Our interview is below the clip of tonight’s episode.
Can you tell me a little about Love Thy Sister?
Love Thy Sister is a docu-soap that is produced by Bunim/Murray, who also produces Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and it is about three sisters who come from an affluent African-American family in South Carolina. Their dad was actually the first dentist in their town in South Carolina. Their aunt was the first black female attorney in Charlotte. All of their children have secondary degrees. The show really reflects the African-American community in a true and positive way, and unlike so many reality shows out right now that are just about being famous, these women are already successful in their careers as lawyers and doctors.
And the show is about how family is more than being related by blood. These women aren’t just my friends; they’re my second family. I’m like their sister.
Photo courtesy of WEtv.
You’re really front and center in tonight’s episode, right? Can you tell me about that?
Tonight’s episode is specifically about the relationship I have with Ione, and her understanding of my transition and what goes along with it, things like gender markers and misgendering people, and her misunderstandings about sexual orientation and gender identity. At first, she doesn’t understand that those two things are mutually exclusive.
Everything came to a head when we went to a party that didn’t allow men. Obviously my friends know I am transgender, but the women at the party didn’t know, until one of them started calling me by a different, male name. What I tried to explain is that the feminist movement and the trans movement need solidarity. The woman at the party who was misgendering me is a survivor of domestic abuse, and I let her know that I also have survived abuse, and we both need to be able to celebrate our independence and freedom from oppression.
Just based on one of the clips I saw, it seems like the show allowed you to really talk about the violence of being misgendered. It didn’t shy away from it or make a joke of it.
Ione ended up leaving that party, and that’s when I knew she was truly an ally and a friend. We ended up having a long conversation about how she can respect me, and how I want to be treated, and how I want to be talked to. It was a really pivotal moment in our relationship. Even when I was transitioning in school, we never had this conversation, so it was important for me, and important for our friendship.
So much of reality TV is in the editing, obviously. Did you have any worries when you signed on to do the show that you wouldn’t be represented accurately or fairly?
I did worry, yes. In all of my talks leading up to the show, in all of my conversations with my lawyer, I made it very clear that my biggest concern was how the trans community was going to be represented. I actually was uncomfortable with my former name being mentioned onscreen. To me, that’s my past, but I accepted it because I’ve learned that loving myself is also loving who I was. The experiences I had as Juan helped me understand who I am as Londyn; it helped me accept my transition.
When I heard my old name, I was taken aback, and when I saw the old pictures of me — actually, that’s how my niece and nephew found out I’m transgender. Children don’t know. They just know I’m Aunt Londyn. So it was definitely awkward for me, in that respect. I’m always forthright and honest in romantic relationships because I fully believe that if a person doesn’t love me in totality, they just don’t love me.
Photo courtesy of WEtv.
The show takes place in South Carolina, right? And I think I read that you’re from Atlanta?
I’m actually from Baltimore, but I met Ione in college in Atlanta. I was in Charlotte to film the show, but I came back to Baltimore to attend law school and live with my grandmother — who I lost in November — because she was my biggest champion and my biggest supporter.
Can you talk a little bit about being a trans woman of color at this time in America, when on the one hand we’re seeing a rise in visibility with folks like Laverne Cox and Janet Mock and CeCe McDonald, but where trans women of color, and black trans women specifically, are subjected to so much violence?
Yes, that’s the reason having a platform matters so much to me. Violence against trans women of color gets shoved under the rug so often, and there’s no accountability. We see the news media misgendering trans people all the time, and then we see the parents of trans victims getting on television and misgendering their children. When a parent uses the wrong pronoun, on purpose, to refer to their transgender child who has committed suicide or been murdered, that parent is contributing to the violent culture that killed their child. It is refusing to recognize the humanity of trans people, and the experiences of trans people.
The media also perpetuates these stereotypes that trans women are attacked and murdered because they misrepresented themselves to their romantic partners, and that’s just not correct. Our communities have been so galvanized by a church that condemns trans people, gay people, people who are questioning, and it goads people into acting out violently against us because of their own insecurities. It creates a continuum. When homophobia and transphobia are embraced in our music and religion, it becomes embedded in our culture, and people use those things to justify their violence.
It sounds like one of the main reasons you chose to do this show is to educate people.
Yes, definitely. It’s a cycle and it’s something we need to be talking about on television. There’s a huge problem with homelessness in the trans community. And this poverty and homelessness forces trans women into situations where they have to allow their trans bodies to be objectified to make money, because there are so few laws that prevent discrimination, so they’re unable to get jobs. These situations create violence. Public policy is so important. President Obama is using his platform to try to create equality, and I haven’t just heard about those effects; I’ve seen those effects. I’m able to get on a plane and fly to Dubai without worrying what will happen to me when I get off the plane because there’s legislation now that allows me to have the correct gender on my passport.
Just from the few scenes of the show that I’ve watched, it seems like you’re actually getting to talk about this stuff. It doesn’t seem like the show is sensationalizing your life experiences.
It was really important to me that the show didn’t objectify me. I said to Ione, “I am not your court jester.” And I mean it. We still have friends who misgender me, and I’m like, “Come on. You’ve known who I am for too long to be doing that. If my own mother, who birthed me, has no problem using correct pronouns and my real name, no one else has an excuse.” I love my parents more than anything. They have always been so supportive of me. They were so supportive about me doing the show because they want me to be who I am and talk to people about these issues in a way that opens up their understanding.
Will you be around for more episodes?
I’m actually on all six episodes, and I’m really hoping for a second season. I’d love to be able to talk more about my job and my academics, and I think that’s a thing we can explore more fully if we get a second season — so everyone should watch!
Love Thy Sister airs tonight at 10:00 on WEtv. You can follow Londyn on Instagram and Twitter.
For several years, LGBTQ Idahoans and their allies have been fighting to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to the Idaho Human Rights Act, which provides protections in the workplace, housing, transportation, education and public accommodations. The classes currently protected under the IHRA include “race, color, religion, sex or national origin.” There are also protections for age and people with disabilities. On Monday, the Idaho House State Affairs Committee heard testimony on why they should bring House Bill 2 (known as HB2) to the full House for a vote.
The Capitol Building in Boise on Monday afternoon.
I had a chance to travel to Boise and add my testimony in support of HB2. The hallways were packed well before signups to testify started at 7:30 AM, with people coming from across the state to speak. The energy was palpable, and you could see the excitement on the faces of LGBTQ Idahoans who were finally getting a chance to tell their stories.
I write about LGBTQ issues for a living, but going in front of a committee of House members and a crowd half-full of people who have taken time out of their lives specifically to argue why I don’t deserve human rights is a completely different monster. Bringing my own personal testimony before the committee left my hands shaking and my stomach sitting down in my feet all morning. After hearing claims that there are no cases of trans people facing workplace or housing discrimination, I cited some statistics from The National Center for Transgender Equality and Injustice at Every Turn proving otherwise before going deeper into my personal story.
In a practical sense, this move will have a real impact in making sure that the many LGBTQ Idahoans will be legally assured a fair chance at the same quality of life that other Idahoans have. But it’s more than that, it’s also a symbolic move that will show LGBTQ Idahoans that our state sees us as being equal to everyone else from our state.
It’s hard to not have your humanity recognized by your own home, by your fellow Idahoans. And really, that’s all we want. We’re asking for so little, just the acknowledgement that we are human beings and that we deserve the same basic rights as everyone else.
The knowledge that my state, that my government, refused to protect me, or really, even acknowledge my basic humanity, was one of the things that kept me in the closet for so long. I was so afraid that as soon as I came out I would lose my job and not be able to get a new one, that I would try to find a place to live and be refused, that I would try to live a normal life and I would be denied that I started to lose all hope. Staying in the closet caused me to fall into a deep depression that peaked with me standing in front of my bathroom mirror holding a handful of pills ready to kill myself.
I was lucky, I’m still here and I was able to see a glimmer of hope for a better future for a trans woman like me. Many LGBTQ people don’t see that better future. We can look to examples like the seventeen year old trans girl Leelah Alcorn in Ohio. When she looked around at society and thought about her future, she didn’t see any way that she could be happy or successful. And so she took her own life.
It’s our job to make our world, our country and our state a better place for all the other Leelah Alcorns out there. We need to ensure that people like her, and people like me, and people like all those you see here testifying in favor of adding the words to the Human Rights Act, have a bright and safe future here in Idaho. A future that offers security, opportunities and a fair chance at a good life. We already have so much going against us, we don’t need our own home state to be against us too.
Others arguing in favor of the bill told their own heart-wrenching stories of discrimination, bullying and fear of oppression. Several people talked about family members or friends who had to move out of state or even committed suicide due to the extreme discrimination and bullying they faced for being gay or transgender in Idaho. Many more told personal stories of how they themselves were discriminated against, abandoned by family and friends and ostracized to the point of suicidal thoughts.
DW Trantham signing up to testify. Photo via Katherine Jones, The Idaho Statesman.
Transgender Idahoans asked to simply be treated like human beings and to be allowed to go to the bathroom in peace, which seemed to be the big concern from opponents. DW Trantham, a 13 year-old trans girl from Boise, said that she and others like her want to live in a state where they are equal “not just in our hearts and minds, but in the laws.” She added, “Imagine if I was your daughter or granddaughter; what sport team would you want me to play on? What clothes should I wear? What bathroom should I use?” After Boise Chief of Police Mike Masterson testified in favor of the bill, Rep. Brent Crane asked him if the bill would allow transgender people to use the bathroom of their gender identity. Masterson simply replied, “They do that now.”
Most opponents of the bill argued that their rights as “Bible-believing Christians” would be infringed upon if they were forced to not discriminate against LGBTQ people. This is in spite of the bill’s exemption for religion and the fact that the Biblical support for LGBTQ discrimination is specious at best. Several people representing lobbying groups including the Family Research Council also came from out of state to offer their testimony, although they seemed to forget where they were and started to argue that these protections should not be added in “Utah” or “Ohio.”
Things really went off the rails in the evening, when opponents of the bill started to show their true colors. Nearly every trans person who was mentioned was misgendered, and both trans and gay people were called “abominations” and “sinners.” The very first person to testify compared LGBTQ people to pedophiles, Nazis and those in Communist Russia. Others said that “we could literally have a gay vs. Christian war” and “500 years ago Christians were burned at the stake for their beliefs, and it looks like that may happen again.” People around me in the crowd had to leave the room or were brought to tears because of the hate and vitriol that was present in the testimony of the anti-HB2 speakers.
The packed hearing at the Capitol Building. via lgbtqnation
Shortly after several opponents of the bill ranted about how they don’t want “men in the women’s bathroom” with their daughters and wives, Danielle Lundgren, who is a trans woman and a Sheriff’s Detective who works to combat domestic violence and crimes against children, talked about how trans women like herself pose absolutely no threat in bathrooms and as someone whose job it is to protect women and children, she absolutely would not support a bill that placed them in danger. She then asked where opponents of the bill want her to go to the bathroom if she’s not allowed to use the women’s room, or if they just want her to stop going to the bathroom altogether.
Although many of the representatives on the panel seemed like they would rather be somewhere else, a few of them, notably Rep. Paulette Jordan and Rep. John McCrostie were very attentive and asked questions that showed they were both knowledgeable on the subject and passionate about fighting for equal rights in Idaho. It was extremely refreshing to see that even just a few of those elected to represent us care about our rights.
While hearings like this may seem like they ultimately end with nothing getting done, they actually do accomplish a lot. For one, LGBTQ people across the state of Idaho were able to see just how many people support them enough to show up at the Capitol Building at seven in the morning and sit through hours of testimony. The growing number of people who show up in support of the bill also serves as a reminder to state lawmakers that even if they ignore this issue right now, it’s not going away any time soon. The packed hallway and multiple rooms needed to accommodate the overflow of audience members proved that we are here to stay and we are getting stronger.
The packed halls before the hearing. Photo via The Idaho Statesman
Testimony started on Monday morning at 8AM and went until 11:30AM. It was picked up again that evening from 5PM until a little after 8PM. Testimony continued the next day and is going to open up again on Wednesday. After public testimony is done, the committee can either kill the bill right now or send it on to the full House for a vote, either with a recommendation or not.
In a span of less than three weeks, the first three known murders of trans women of color in 2015 have been reported. All are black trans women.
Lamia Beard, 30, of Norfolk, Virginia loved music and travel. She sang and played the flute, oboe, piccolo, and piano. She earned a full scholarship to Bethune Cookman College. She spoke French fluently. Her favorite artist was Beyoncé. She was very close to her family and friends. In an Alternet article celebrating Beard’s life, her sister, Kiara Parker, said: “Lamia used to brag to friends that she had a family who accepted her because a lot of people in the LGBT community did not have their own family to accept them.” According to the Alternet interview, Beard and her other sister, Kendall Beard, had just gotten a manicures together the day before Beard’s death. Lamia Beard’s body was found with life-threatening gunshot wounds on the morning of Saturday, January 17th. She was transported to the Sentara Norfolk General Hospital, where she passed away.
Photo Credit: Facebook
Ty Underwood, 24, of Tyler, Texas was an assistant at a nursing home and was planning to go to school. She had recently been accepted to Kilgore College’s nursing program. Her friend, Kenya Darks, told KLTV, “She’s a fan favorite. Everybody likes Ty.” Just nine days after Beard’s murder, Underwood was found in her car, dead from three gunshot wounds, on Monday, January 26th.
No arrests have been made in either case.
UPDATE [1/28/15 2:37 PM]: A third woman, Goddess Edwards, 20, of Indianapolis, Kentucky, was actually the first reported black trans woman to be killed in 2015, as was posted today by TransGriot. Because of misgendering by the media and law enforcement, we are only just learning of Edwards’ death and still do not know her first name. This is what misgendering does. This is transmisogyny in action. Goddess Edwards (as Lourdes Hunter, the National Director of Trans Women of Color Collective, has chosen to call her) had her name stolen from her. This is a final act of violence against Goddess Edwards, of making black trans women invisible, of trying to make their lives matterless. What we know is that Edwards was murdered on January 9th. She was found at the Fern Valley Hotel and Conference Center. She was transported to the University of Louisville Hospital where she was pronounced dead of a gunshot wound to the chest. No more details have been revealed yet about Edwards. A suspect, Henry Gleaves, has been arrested and charged with murder. The only available photo is an old mug shot that the police department released, which is why there is no picture of her here out of respect for Edwards.
Goddess Edwards, 3rd Black Trans Woman murdered in the U.S. this month. WE ARE AT WAR AND OUR YOUTH ARE THE TARGET! http://t.co/fJMhTfRUnP
— Dr. Hunter-Fowler (@HunterLourdes) January 28, 2015
In all of these cases, local media continually and willfully misgendered the victims, using their dead names and the wrong pronouns even as both Beard and Underwood’s friends and family used the correct name and pronouns. Their deaths were used as clickbait. One media outlet insinuated that Beard was in an area that “transgender prostitutes are known to frequent,” to the anger and dismay of Beard’s family. Edwards’ story has been buried for weeks because of media and law enforcement misgendering.
None of this is surprising. None of this is okay.
According to the most recent report from the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs’ (NCAVP) most recent report, almost 90% of LGBTQ homicide victims in 2013 were people of color. Almost three quarters (72%) of homicide victims were transgender women, and more than two-thirds (67%) were transgender women of color. In 2014, TWOC, and mostly black trans woman, were murdered at a rate of greater than one woman per month in America. In fact, 12 out of 14 of TWOC murdered in 2014 were black women. How do you make people pay attention?
The deaths of Beard and Underwood and Edwards come shortly after the tragic and awful death of Leelah Alcorn, but have received much less attention and public displays of grief than Alcorn’s. Alcorn absolutely deserved love and support and the outpouring of emotion that followed her death. It’s hard not to see it, though — that Alcorn’s life, the life of a white girl — seems to matter so much more to so many more people.
Whether intentional or not, every person who posted about Alcorn and went to vigils for her and pledged to do better but who didn’t do the same for Beard or Underwood, is part of the problem. Is silently complicit of the invisibility and vulnerability of TWOC. Where is the outpouring of support and tears and promises from cis allies? Where is the celebration of Beard and Underwood and Edwards’ lives and dreams? Where is the 330,000 strong petition to enact laws that protect TWOC?
There’s not much to say that hasn’t been articulated perfectly by trans women of color themselves. L’lerrét, co-founder of the New Orleans chapter of the Trans Women of Color Collective, wrote in her Trans Day of Remembrance piece:
I implore you to sit back and ask yourself how you contribute to the violence and injustice against trans women of color. How do you reinforce the marginalization and ostracism of myself and my sisters? It’s all fine that we become aware of our lives but we need more than for you to finally see that we are walking this Earth. We need you to hear us. We need you to sit quietly, take notes, and begin to conceptualize what a restructured system that is void of misogynist, racist, ableist, etc oppression would look like. It’s not enough to read the names of my sisters killed off by the normative nature of this capitalistic system. Moments of silence are not enough. Calling us courageous is not enough. Having one or two trans friends is not enough. We need to begin to develop more complex analysis of the world in which we live. We need to rebuke assimilationism. It is an imperative to eradicate the prison industrial complex and the criminalization of sex work in all forms. I implore you to begin to question what has been engrained in you since birth. Own yourself and you can begin to see the truth.
I envision a period where being a black trans woman in all her glory is not deemed “courageous” or “revolutionary.” It is a ridiculous notion to think that one being themselves is revolutionary. I want to be able to walk to McDonald’s at 9:00 at night and not have to worry about being killed by transphobic bystanders, sexually molested by misogynistic jerks, or both of those things being perpetuated by police officers. I want to see my sisters out of jail cells. I want to see my sisters with jobs. I want to see them happy. I want to see black trans brilliance everywhere and until that day comes, we will not stop. The movement will always continue. Our voices will forever be the loudest. We will always walk with the fervor and passion that our fore sisters embodied. We are the revolution. We are Goddesses. Our lives matter.
Mey, our Trans Editor, recently wrote:
…it’s no coincidence that nearly all of these women are trans women of color, many of them black. As we’ve seen recently (and all throughout our lives, to be perfectly honest), black lives are not valued very much in America. When you live at the intersection of being transgender, a woman and a person of color, you are especially likely to be targeted for violent attacks or discrimination. This is even more true for black trans women.
Following the deaths of Beard and Underwood, trans activists and leaders took to Twitter, calling for justice and for recognition that #blacklivesmatter and #translivesmatter, demanding a #blacktransrevolution that is centered on the work communities of TWOC are already doing to make change.
Listen to trans voices. Listen to black voices. Listen to TWOC. Follow TWOC leaders.
Say their names: Lamia Beard. Ty Underwood. Goddess Edwards. May they rest in power.
Feature image via Garsya/Shutterstock
Seven days. That’s how long it took a Missouri lawmaker to propose 2015’s first anti-LGBT bill.
On January 7, Missouri State Rep. Elijah Haahr introduced HB 104, lovingly titled the “Student Freedom of Association Act” in an attempt to mask its true intention: To allow student groups at public universities to deny access to LGBT students based on the group’s religious beliefs. Haahr’s bill is a response to last year’s weird panic over the pretty standard set of rules regarding student groups, which basically say that any group that wants to be recognized and receive funding or meeting space must be open to all students on campus. This new bill aims to solve that “problem” that — let’s be honest — probably doesn’t exist, by demanding religious groups get access to the same resources as all other student groups, even if they violate the conditions of receiving those resources.
“Religious freedom” seems to be discriminatory groups’ flavor-of-the-month excuse for these measures, which are popping up at both state and local levels throughout the country. Some towns are even rolling back previously approved LGBT protections, as Starkville, Mississippi, did in a closed-door meeting earlier this month.
A recently passed anti-discrimination ordinance in Plano, Texas, has inspired lawmakers in that state to take their objections to a higher level. They’ve begun organizing a measure that would prevent municipalities from formalizing any protections to a group not protected by the state government. So, unless the Texas legislature says LGBT people are a protected minority, no local government would be allowed to include them in anti-discrimination measures. The passing of that bill would settle the matter of Houston’s currently disputed ordinance, which was challenged by a petition whose suspiciously similar signatures have come under harsh scrutiny.
All of these measures are part of a statewide attempt to curtail LGBT rights through any means necessary.
Also in the Texas legislature, Rep. Cecil Bell Jr. has introduced a bill that would bar county clerks from issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples in the event that an ongoing federal case about the state’s marriage ban rules in favor of same-sex marriage advocates.
All of these measures are part of a statewide attempt to curtail LGBT rights through any means necessary, using whatever loopholes politicians can find. Lawmakers in other states, however, are looking for blanket measures that would keep them from having to nitpick at civil liberties.
Take Virginia, for example, where last week notorious anti-gay legislator Del. Bob Marshall introduced that state’s — and possibly the nation’s — most extreme “right to discriminate” bill to date. His HB 1414 creates a “conscience clause” that bars any organization that requires a “license, registration, or certificate” — so, literally any public or private enterprise — from requiring its workers to do anything that would “violate the religious or moral conviction with respect to same-sex ‘marriage’ or homosexual behavior.” If you put aside how horrific his proposal is, Marshall’s clever phrasing is almost impressive: It’s a blatant attempt to attack the state’s LGBT population at every level, by giving any person who finds someone’s sexuality offensive the ability to simply cry “morality!” and stop doing their job without a single consequence.
That’s the hope for proponents of laws modeled on the federal “Religious Freedom and Restoration Act” that passed under President Bill Clinton but was ruled to not apply to states in 1997. Michigan’s attempt to pass an RFRA floundered in December, but there’s already talk of reviving the effort this year, and those watching anti-LGBT groups across the nation suspect that’s where their efforts will fall throughout 2015. If you’re watching the news in your state, keep an ear out for talk of “sincerely held religious beliefs” and “substantially burdened” religious exercise. If you hear those phrases flying around, it’s likely your state is considering a “religious freedom” bill targeted at protecting anti-LGBT beliefs.
If you’re watching the news in your state, keep an ear out for talk of “sincerely held religious beliefs” and “substantially burdened” religious exercise.
Lastly, because let’s not forget trans people can be targeted outright without hiding behind religious convictions, a state senator in Kentucky has proposed a bill that would give students the right to sue for $2,500 if they encounter a trans person using the “wrong” restroom, locker room or shower at school. Sen. C.B. Embry Jr.‘s “Kentucky Student Privacy Act” relies heavily on that “biological sex” idea that we know is never so cut-and-dry as the term might suggest. It’s unclear if Embry’s bill will gain the necessary support to pass, but he’s doing everything he can to frame it as an “emergency” measure, so we should at least see some result soon.
We’re only one month into 2015, but legislators across the country are making it clear that LGBT rights are on trial this year. Whether they’re claiming religious freedom or personal safety, conservatives are being ruthless in their attempts to carve out legal space for discrimination. And if we don’t call them out at every opportunity, we risk losing even the moderate rights LGBT people have secured through decades of advocacy.
Last night’s episode of Glee introduced a storyline about a trans character into the final season of the show. Like a lot of people, you might think Glee already has a trans character. So that’s cool, now they’ll have two, right? That’s great! What other show on basic cable is that progressive? This probably also has you thinking Glee is doing some really great things for trans representation on TV. Well, it’s not that simple, and sadly, it’s not that positive.
If you’re surprised to learn the show is still on the air at all (which is totally understandable), here’s what you missed on Glee: It all started when they introduced a character named Unique in season three. At first, she only appeared in a small role, but over the next two seasons, she became one of the main members of the New Directions glee club. Early on in her appearances, she seemed unsure of her gender, but by the end of her run, she was clearly identifying as a trans girl.
Unfortunately, the show treated her like garbage. Nearly every character made transmisogynistic jokes at her expense. When she wasn’t allowed to use the girl’s bathroom, Mr. Shue swept in like a hero and gave her permission to use the staff bathroom. Just what every trans girl wants, having to use a special bathroom instead of the one for “normal” girls! She even had a storyline where she Catfished one of her male friends (because all trans women lie about who they are and try to trick people into dating them)!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Aq-lQKj45I#t=22
Anyway, at the beginning of this, the final season of Glee, we learn that Sue Sylvester (who has always been mean but is still supposed to be a character we love) lets us know that she shipped off all the glee kids to other schools, so she no longer has to deal with the losers and “transvestites” in the club. So, the only trans woman character on broadcast TV doesn’t exist any more. In this week’s episode, we learn that Coach Beiste is a trans man and will start transitioning. So now we no longer have a trans girl of color; instead, the trans representation the show gives us is in the form of a white trans man. The way Sam, the assistant football coach, and Sue, the principal, react to his coming out is better than the way Unique was treated, but still very strange. They seem to have forgotten that Unique existed and that they had ever met a trans person in real life.
Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that this is wildly out of character for Coach Beiste. In his previous storylines, the main drive of his character seemed to be that even though he was not very traditionally feminine and even though he was tough and liked sports and didn’t act very “ladylike,” he still desperately wanted to be seen as and treated like a woman, because he seemed to strongly identify as such. The point of the character was “Hey, women can be traditionally masculine and still be women.” I’m not saying that trans people can’t change or be confused or be deeply closeted, but when he says in last night’s episode that he’s always felt this way, the writers are pretty much throwing all of his previous character development out of the window.
Photo by Jamie McCarthy
It could be argued that it’s about time trans men got some representation. I mean, come on, we’ve got Laverne Cox! We’ve got Janet Mock and CeCe McDonald! We’ve got Laura Jane Grace! Hey, even Transparent took home a couple of Golden Globes! Doesn’t that mean we should start evening things out between trans men and trans women? The answer to that is a big, loud, very assured “No.”
I’m not saying trans men or white trans people shouldn’t get any representation, but come on, until 2013, the two most famous trans people in America were Chaz Bono and Brandon Teena, two white men. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t think we need more male characters on TV, and that’s exactly what adding trans men characters is doing. So when we have trans women characters, lets hold on to them for dear life (just like we should do with real life trans women). This might be where you interject and say that Brandon Teena was famous for being murdered, and while that is tragically true, why was he more famous than the dozens and dozens of trans women of color who are murdered every year? Where are the Oscar-winning movies about Angie Zapata, Nireah Johnson and Rita Hester? So I’m not upset that trans women, and specifically black trans women, are having a brief moment in the spotlight right now.
Also, when we look at who is getting stomped to the ground, we’ll find that it’s trans women and femmes of color. Yes, trans men and white trans people face discrimination and violence, but not in the same way that trans women of color do. Almost every person listed on the Trans Day of Remembrance website is a trans woman, and almost all of them are trans women of color. Trans women of color are the ones who, like Monica Jones, get arrested for walking down the street, or like CeCe McDonald get arrested for walking down the street and defending themselves against transmisogynistic, racist and violent attackers.
So Glee, no, you don’t get any brownie points from me for introducing this trans storyline in your final season. You had one and you messed it up terribly. You had Unique, a black trans girl who also happened to be one of the best singers on the show, but you treated her like trash. She was constantly the butt of jokes and bullying. Every time she had a storyline of her own, it just reinforced the idea that the characters within the show, and the show itself, didn’t see her as a “real” woman. You treated trans women as a punchline, or as deceptive and predatory. And now she’s gone; you made her completely disappear. Disrespected, othered and treated like garbage when she was around, and then suddenly and unceremoniously erased from existence. If that isn’t the perfect microcosm for how society treats trans women of color, I don’t know what is.
Trans representation is important, and we definitely need more of it, but despite what Glee thinks, not all trans representation is created equal. We need diverse representation. We need trans women, trans men and non-binary trans people. We need trans people of color, we need queer trans people, we need fat trans people, we need trans people with disabilities, we need young and old trans people. Basically, we need dozens more trans characters. What we don’t need, though, is for the only show that has a regular trans character on TV (streaming doesn’t count) to erase their trans woman of color character and replace her with a white trans man. You cannot treat your trans woman of color character like trash and then continue to pretend your show is an example of positive representation for trans people. You just can’t.
feature image via shutterstock
Oh, ally…you’re such a complicated, touchy concept. As progressive causes (particularly LGBTQ causes) have gained traction amongst Gen-Xers and Millenials over the last two decades, the concept of being an ally has grown into an identity all its own. For the most part, that’s a good thing. Allies have helped push queer issues into the mainstream discourse, and it’s likely our progress would have been much slower without them.
Now, as transgender issues start to finally make their way into the popular consciousness, cisgender queer people and straight people of liberal stripes are beginning to take up the mantle of the transgender ally. However, advocating on behalf of the transgender community is still far more socially taboo than being a queer advocate. Much of the world still considers trans people to be mentally ill degenerates whose identities are nothing more than myth, so discussing trans issues at all is still substantially marked and carries the potential for huge social penalties. Just being associated with trans people carries a serious stigma, so for many people, their so-called allyhood doesn’t extend much beyond claiming to be an ally and trying not to be shitty to the trans people in their life. I think it’s time we really start to expect more from people who label themselves allies.
While I’m strongly in favor not being shitty to trans people, not being a jerk does not an ally make. You can’t half-ass your way to allyhood. I don’t have the option to only be trans when it’s convenient and safe, so if you’re really interested in progress for our community, you have to jump in with both feet. Trans people are also not off the hook here. All too often we also fail to be advocates for ourselves, and even worse, fail at being good allies to other members of our community, particularly those who are not part of our particular niche or are subject to additional axes of oppression that we’re not.
So, I’ve talked a bit about what being an ally isn’t, so now, you might be wondering, what exactly does go into being a strong ally and advocate for the transgender community. Well, I’ve identified ten things that I think provide a solid framework for calling oneself an ally. While the first eight of these ideas are strongly aimed at cisgender allies, the last two are lessons critical for cis and trans people alike.
I happen to think this is among the most important things that good allies do, and bad allies utterly fail at. If you’re purporting to be an ally, you should listen when trans people talk. And you certainly shouldn’t speak over them, ever. I’m always simultaneously fascinated and frustrated by feminists who will rage on about mansplaining, but have absolutely no problem lecturing trans people about what the real problems for trans people. Remember, trans people live these experiences every day. When you’re discussing issues specific to the trans community, you should be asking yourself “Is there a trans voice that can address this situation that I can signal boost?” Being an ally means listening to what we have to say, and prioritizing our voices over your own.
Almost as important as knowing when to close your mouth is knowing when to open it. If you see transphobia or transmisogyny, call it out. Don’t assume just because a trans person is in the room that it’s their responsibility to correct transphobic or transmisogynistic behavior. In fact, it can have a lot greater impact when the correction comes from a cis person, since this demonstrates that the behavior is viewed as unacceptable by the larger community. Point out when people make biological essentialist comments, when they use trans slurs, and when trans people are made the butt of jokes. (Seriously, do not let one more “HAHA BUT SHE HAD A PENIS!” joke go unaddressed.) Remember, subtle forms of transmisogyny and transphobia should be addressed just as often as more offensive and overt forms. Furthermore, don’t let the gangs of internet jerks verbally assault trans activists without being called out for their bullshit. Often times, trans folks feel pretty alone when the denizens of 4chan and Gender Identity Watch are hammering them with abusive nonsense, and comparatively few allies are willing to speak against those situations. Take the time to let us know that you support us, and that you oppose what’s being done to us, and do so publicly. You might get labeled an “SJW,” but your words go a long way in combatting the implicit acceptability of that kind of abuse in online spheres.
No one is expecting you to be the Encylopedia Trans-anica, so you don’t need to be up on every single detail and concept in transgender discourse. However, you should at least have a solid grounding in the basic concepts that are important to trans people and their struggles. Don’t understand how non-binary gender identities work? Find out on your own, without demanding that individual people in your life with those identities explain it for you. Don’t understand the concept of transmisogyny? Get reading. Google is your friend! If you’re looking for good introductions to the queer theory groundings of trans discourse, I strongly recommend Whipping Girl and Excluded from Julia Serano, and here’s an introduction to gender by b. binaohan.
Everyone makes mistakes. You aren’t going to have your ally card automatically revoked for occasionally putting your foot in your mouth. The key is to own your mistake. Don’t make excuses, and definitely don’t get offended and defensive if you get called out or corrected for something you’ve done wrong. Give an honest, sincere apology for your misstep, and commit to improving in the future. Most importantly, do your damnedest not to make the same mistake twice. Real allies see their mistakes as learning and growth opportunities.
Being an ally isn’t about gaining social credit for being liberal or progressive; it’s about pushing for real change to improve the lives of trans people. That means you should still be calling out transphobia, even if there’s no trans people around to notice what you’re doing. Even if you’re sitting at Christmas dinner with your 100% cis, straight family and your Uncle Bob drops the t-slur, you still need to speak up. We need to work to make transphobia and transmisogyny socially unacceptable even when trans people aren’t around to experience it.
Of course, it’s not JUST about calling out transphobia. Real allies are also advocating, even when there aren’t trans people around to see what they’re doing. You need to contact your political leaders when legal issues crop up and donate money or time to transgender causes. You should share content created by trans people on your social media accounts, and take the time to educate others about trans issues when they arise. You should be pressing your employer for trans-inclusive healthcare and trans-inclusive non-discrimination policies.
Trans people are extremely grateful for our allies. You’re absolutely critical in helping us move our causes forward. That being said, don’t expect a constant outpouring of thank-yous for what you’re doing. Don’t get huffy if you don’t get hugs and cookies and rainbow glitter for every single thing you do as an ally. Don’t pout if you don’t get the “props” you deserve for the work you’re doing. And no, you don’t get a special ally flag. Allies don’t do their work because they want gratitude and recognition — they do it because they genuinely care about trans people and want to see the world improve for them. If seeing positive change isn’t enough of a motivator for you, then you’re failing as an ally. Furthermore, claiming to be an ally (and even doing some ally-like things) isn’t a shield from criticism, and it doesn’t absolve you of the fuck-ups you make when interacting with trans people or give you license to act like an asshole. If you do something shitty, you should still expect to get called out. You should not, under any circumstances, accuse trans people of “alienating allies” if they get upset with you over your screw-ups.
There are no ally cookies. (image via shutterstock)
Call this one being an “advanced” ally. Refuse to accept jobs or contract work from companies that don’t include gender identity in their diversity statement. When you’re interviewing for a new job, ask the employer if they provide trans-inclusive healthcare. If they don’t, press them on the issue as a matter of company culture that you’re concerned about. Much like the push for same-sex partner benefits a decade ago, changes in trans healthcare and trans acceptance by employers will come much faster when companies begin to see it as a potential positive during recruitment.
Don’t compare the experience of being trans to any other set of life experiences, especially your OWN life experiences. That’s appropriation, and it tends to indicate that you don’t take trans struggles seriously. Being trans isn’t similar to anything other than OTHER gender identity situations. Even more seriously, don’t use knowledge of our experiences or struggles as a means to promote your own projects or career, especially if it comes at our expense. Our stories belong to us, and they don’t exist for your to make a name for yourself as a writer, speaker, etc. This also includes attempting to force your way into trans culture for attention or financial gain. Basically don’t be Kate Pierson of the B-52s.
The transgender community is full of very complex privilege dynamics along a number of axes. The experiences of trans women of color are very, very different than those of white trans women. Specifically, the experience of trans women of color — especially Black trans women — is that they’re even more likely to face assault, murder, sexual assault, incarceration, and other forms of violence than white trans people, and that needs to be kept in mind at all times when discussing the oppression the trans community faces. Those differences can be further complicated by relative economic privilege and education. There can be a bit of a gulf between straight and queer trans women. Trans women with very cis-normative appearances often have much different experiences than those who are more obviously trans. While white trans women with cis-normative appearances are often the public “face” of the trans community because of their relatively privileged status, it’s absolutely critical to remember that their experiences are not at ALL representative of the entire trans community and their concerns should not dominate the discourse of trans issues. Trans women of color are at considerably higher risk of joblessness, homelessness, and violence, and good allies should make a strong effort to listen to and work for the betterment of those who are most at risk. I think this point is especially salient for OTHER trans people, particularly white trans people. We often get so completely wrapped up in our pet issues because they’re things that affect us directly, and we ignore those who even more vulnerable and in need of advocacy. I think we could be doing a much better job of being allies/being inclusive to members of our own community, especially if we’d like cis people to do the same. This includes prioritizing the voices of trans women of color on the issue of anti-trans violence, and pressing harder for anti-discrimination statutes in public accommodations.
The transgender umbrella covers a whole lot more than just trans women and trans men. The whole range of non-binary gender identities are also important, and often completely overlooked. Good trans allies should be knowledgeable about the spectrum on non-binary identities, and consciously affirming the validity and acceptability of non-binary identities at every opportunity. That includes things like asking what the appropriate pronouns are for someone, and using those pronouns consistently, whether those pronouns are he, she, they, ze, hir, or any other. The larger cisgender world is even more ignorant/unaware of non-binary identities than they are of binary trans identities, which means allies ought to make an extra effort to ensure NB voices are not lost. Non-binary erasure is a constant problem, and good allies are careful to ensure that their work is as inclusive as possible of people of non-binary genders. This is another area where a lot of trans people could also step up their game. There’s a lot of fear/discomfort with NB folks among trans people who identify within the binary, as well as a considerable amount of ignorance about the specific issues and discourse surround NB identities. We need to be educating ourselves about their struggle, and taking care of our own instead of selfishly focusing on our own little niches. We ought to be leveraging our relative social privilege to help our NB siblings.
Being an ally definitely isn’t easy. It takes bravery and a real concern about the welfare of the trans community. It’s a sacrifice, undertaken willingly and without the expectation of getting anything in return. And given the relatively small numbers of the transgender population, we need good allies to boost our voices and help us secure our rights. Just being a good friend to the trans people in your life, generally not being a transphobic, and supporting the rights and acceptance of trans people makes you a pretty awesome person in my book. But, as a community, trans people are so accustomed to being shunned that we’ve been willing to accept even a modicum of kindness and acceptance as a momentous act of allyhood. I think it’s time we move beyond that and expect more from those who would claim to be our allies (and from ourselves.)
In February 2013, LeslieAnn Manning reported being raped by another inmate while working in the men’s prison where she was incarcerated. Now she is bringing a lawsuit against the Sullivan Correctional Facility for their “deliberate indifference” in failing to prevent her assault.
Manning had been incarcerated in the Sullivan Correctional Facility, a men’s maximum security prison in upstate New York, and openly identified as transgender for most of the time she spent there. She has fought for and won the rights to access hormone replacement therapy, legally change her name, keep her hair long and wear the underwear she prefers. Manning said the prison staff were aware of the risks posed to her as a trans woman in a men’s prison, but did not take appropriate measures to ensure her safety. Her attack happened while she was at work delivering paper in a minimally supervised area. A male inmate she was delivering a letter to in an isolated area violently raped her and threatened to kill her if she reported it.
Manning did report her attack, and has been living in “protective custody” in a different New York men’s prison ever since. Manning’s suit says Sullivan officials showed “deliberate indifference” in failing to protect her from her attacker. She said she had spoken up before the attack about the lack of supervision in her work area and pointed out that her attacker had raped another inmate.
The Cardozo Civil Rights Clinic, which has filed the lawsuit on Manning’s behalf in conjunction with the Cornell LGBT Clinic, said in a press release, “Ms. Manning was obviously at risk of sexual assault because she is a transgender woman who is also physically weak and frail as a result of several chronic health problems.” Francesca Acocella, a legal intern at the Clinic, said,”officials in the New York State prison system knew of the risks but failed to take steps to prevent the horrific things that happened to her.”
In 1994, the Supreme Court found that a prison had shown “deliberate indifference” in the case of Dee Farmer, another trans women raped while incarcerated in a men’s prison. “Deliberate indifference,” the Court said, qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment, and therefore is a violation of the 8th Amendment. Manning argues her 8th Amendment rights were similarly violated, as were the terms of the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA). The PREA advises prison staff to implement protective measures for trans inmates on a “case-by-case” basis, which theoretically leaves trans prisoners with some self-determination in how they navigate incarceration, but as Acocella pointed out, “some prison systems will and do apply this malleable standard in ways that are not consistent with the goals of PREA.”
Manning’s suit pertains to the inaction taken by prison staff members before her attack. However, her case also points to many obstacles to ensuring prisoners’ safety after they report attacks. Manning has been in protective custody since first reporting her attack almost two years ago. According to Acocella, “Ms. Manning feels very isolated in protective custody. She has lost virtually all access to programming offered to prisoners in general population and often spends as much as 22 hours a day alone in a cell.” “Protective custody” is a shiny term for conditions that add up to solitary confinement. The horrific conditions of solitary confinement are well documented. Many incarcerated transgender people have spoken out about the violence they’ve faced while in solitary, demonstrating quite clearly that it isn’t a viable or safe alternative.
Similar sentiments have been voiced by trans prisoners about almost every different measure created under the auspices of “protecting” incarcerated trans people. In a class-action suit brought against San Bernardino County, California this summer, gay, bisexual and transgender inmates who were relegated to an “alternative lifestyle tank” for their “safety” were singled out for harassment by prison staff and were denied access to drug rehab and work programs that were available to the rest of the population, which meant they didn’t have any opportunities to reduce their sentences. As ACLU staff attorney Chase Strangio told Slate, “The assumption is that trans people want to be housed based on gender identity, but anecdotally, that’s not always true. The end goal for most people is to make it out of prison, so the priority is staying alive.”
via Shutterstock
But the dangers of being housed in general prison populations for transgender women also definitely should not be underplayed. More than 20% of trans women will be incarcerated in their lifetimes, and nearly 60% of those women will be sexually assaulted while incarcerated. Of those women, the majority are women of color, and most are black women because of racist prison and policing policies and practices. In October, Lambda Legal filed a suit on behalf of Passion Star, a transgender woman incarcerated in Texas who reports having been assaulted and threatened by inmates and Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ) officials. Texas is one of a handful of states that has refused to adopt PREA standards outright. Governor Rick Perry called them “ill-conceived.” The only consequence for Texas is that they don’t get federal funding for the TDCJ, which makes up an apparently inconsequential portion of their budget.
It’s hard to say what impact these suits will have. In this particular case, a positive outcome for Manning would be monetary compensation from the state. But the greater hope is that trans women will no longer be more likely to be raped or assaulted than not when incarcerated. But the fact that there is no consistent option for trans people in prison that allows them to be safe from attack, at least not without compromising some other huge aspect of their lives, leads back to the ultimate reality that no prison is or will be safe for trans people — or anyone.
It’s also important to note that, while this may be the first time we’re covering LeslieAnn Manning’s case on Autostraddle, and the first time her case has been covered in-depth in Slate, a widely read liberal publication, Manning has been advocating for herself and demanding to be recognized and respected as a trans woman for years. We are learning more about her now because trans people have been working relentlessly to demand justice and be heard. In the end of Slate’s piece, they quoted the TGI Justice Project’s Prisoner Survival Guide created for and by incarcerated trans women, saying, “Please keep in mind that there is no specific prison that is safe for [trans] people. As you well know, prisons are not safe spaces for anyone.” These suits and this analysis comes about because trans people are doing the work to be heard. This case has already been successful in winning a platform for trans voices to raise public awareness about the contradictions and dangers of the prison system.
I debated for a long time about whether or not to write about Leelah1. In part because I loathe the prurient media fascination in recent years with trans kids and also because the things I have to say are going to be difficult, uncomfortable, and could bring me a lot of harassment. Trans women of colour (twoc), dear friends of mine and people I care about, have received death threats and endless online harassment for talking about some of the topics I’m going to cover in this post.
But…
I can’t ignore Leelah’s entreaty: “Fix society. Please.”2
I also can’t ignore the fact that, on Twitter at least, people have been demanding #JusticeforLeelahAlcorn without any clear notion of what this means or what it entails. In a general sense, true justice for Leelah would involving fixing society, just as she asks us to do. But as I’ve been articulating on my own Twitter account, for the past few days, this hashtag and most discussions only focus on one part of her story. The easy part.
This part, of course, is the abuse she endured at the hands of her parents. Most calls for ‘justice’ in the Twitter hashtag mainly involve parents accepting their children, religion bashing, and similar remarks. At least this is the comments from the mainstream/cis society.
The response from the trans community has likewise been disappointing in how much it misses the mark and refuses to engage with narratives and comments not only expressed within Leelah’s suicide note but that have been articulated by trans women of colour since we started the entire modern ‘gay rights’ movement.3
This post/essay/etc will be an exploration into what justice for Leelah Alcorn might actually look like and some of what is needed to ‘fix society.’
My gender/sexuality is bakla. But, of course, I need to render this into a coherent identity so that most people reading this can comfortably ‘categorize’ me in their heads. In Anglo terms, I use ‘trans pinay,’ which means that I am a Filipina and trans. While I recently decided to stop using ‘trans woman of colour’ to frame my identity, I’m going to momentarily step back into this framework for the ease of exposition.
That covers who I am… but of course, many people will want to know why they should bother to listen to me, since the world is such that twoc should only ever be visible in death (or porn, I guess). I am a writer and blogger. I wrote the book decolonizing trans/gender 101 among others. I founded the publishing house Biyuti Publishing as a way for living twoc/tpoc to express our voices (usually eschewed by most mainstream media). Hopefully these are enough credentials to satisfy most.
By and large, it is unsurprising to me that the mainstream has largely focused on Leelah’s abuse at the hands of her parents. I’m equally unsurprised that most people are attributing her abuse to religion, rather than the general culture of transmisogyny4 we live in.
The problem with this focus on religion is that it elides the fact that religion, in this particular case, was the excuse used by Leelah’s parents to justify their abusive transmisogyny. However, it is not the cause. Already there are think pieces explaining how transmisogyny has no real basis in either the Bible or the teachings of Christ. The focus on religion also elides the reality that many secular parents are just as transmisogynist as Christian parents can be.
The problem is transmisogyny, not religion. Justice for Leelah, in this case, means dealing with that, not condemning Christianity as a whole.
The responses from the trans community are just as troubling and off-the-mark as the mainsteam focus on religion. There are two, in particular, which trouble me:
#RealLiveTransAdult and the stories from late transitioners. At present, I’m only going to get into #RealLiveTransAdult, since the problems with the ‘I transitioned late and I’m okay’ will be covered in a later section.
#RealLiveTransAdult is a hashtag that popped up on Twitter as a way, it appears, to give hope to young trans people that — and this phrasing is intentional — it gets better.
Why is this a problem?
Leelah writes in her note: “People say ‘it gets better’ but that isn’t true in my case. It gets worse. Each day I get worse.”5
In reading stuff written in the tag, this is the overwhelming impression I get. That the hashtag really is ‘it gets better’ for trans people6.
Beyond the fact that Leelah says for herself that this isn’t a useful message to young trans girls in her situation, the hashtag is a problem because it presents individual narratives without any real call to action. Leelah was in crisis. The message that (maybe) it would get better literally did nothing to save her. Just as it is unlikely to save any trans girl currently struggling with the same problems.
Moreover, while these positive stories feel good and are heart warming, they don’t really help the trans people for whom things have not gotten better. I would be one of those people. Overall, I wouldn’t exactly say that things have become worse since I was Leelah’s age, but they certainly aren’t better.
And they won’t get better until we actually fix society.
One additional problem of the responses to Leelah’s suicide, beyond the fact that few people are actually listening to her, is that most of them fail to address a critical component for her suicide: hopelessness.
At the moment, I’m struggling with major depression that is resulting, in part, from a realization that my current career is dead, likely to do with my transition. I am suicidal. I think about dying every day. I wish I were dead every day. I was literally searching for resources a week ago because I thought I might have to check myself into a hospital to save my life.
For me (and for Leelah, from what I understand from her note) a big part of this is hopelessness for the future. It is my feelings of hopelessness that usually push me from a general “I wish I were dead” to a more specific “let me actually start planning how I can die.” Because present hardship can be endured if one has the belief that someday it will get better. Lose this belief and then… why bother trying to endure?
The thing is, is that Leelah tells us herself why she had no hope.
Leelah writes:
When I was 16 I realized that my parents would never come around, and that I would have to wait until I was 18 to start any sort of transitioning treatment, which absolutely broke my heart. The longer you wait, the harder it is to transition. I felt hopeless, that I was just going to look like a man in drag for the rest of my life.7
As mentioned earlier, one response from the trans community has been people who’ve transitioned later in life trying to communicate (to youth) that late transitioning isn’t a bad thing. This focuses on the “the longer you wait, the harder it is to transition” aspect of her hopelessness, which is meaningful… to an extent.
What I haven’t seen anyone really address is the cisnormative8 aspect of “I was just going to look like a man in drag for the rest of my life.” I’m sure this is something that cuts many trans women reading this because of the ways that it mirrors a common phrase — ‘man in a dress’ — often invoked by people wishing to deny trans women our womanhood. It is also a really common punch line in a lot of media.
Women are subjected to a great deal of stringent requirements for what it means to look like a woman. This is compounded for trans women because we have to not only deal with the general (impossible to meet) beauty standards set up by models and actresses, but we have to deal with the ‘real’ women aspect of it all.
But why is this reaction from the trans community disappointing? Well, as part of the world that needs fixing, we actually tend to be far harder on each other for the ways that we fail to live up to cisnormative beauty standards. And we also, in general, fail to actually interrogate these standards in an attempt to dismantle them.
I know trans women of colour who are constantly misgendered and bullied by white trans women for being too brown, for being too fat, for being too disabled, etc and so on. Too many trans women will be like Calpernia Adams and Andrea James whose sole purpose it is to enforce cisnormative beauty standards.
Standards which are more dangerously enforced by cis society.
It is not by accident that the misery of trans girls is brought to mainstream attention only when a young, white, slim, and apparently able bodied, trans girl commits suicide. When Mark Aguhar killed herself in March 2012, few beyond her immediate circle noticed or cared.9 Sure, she was older but she was also an artist who’d shown work in galleries. She was also fat and brown and not even remotely close to embodying the cisnormative standard of beauty.
In general, neither the cis nor trans communities are really willing to address or deal with the enforcement of cisnormative standards of beauty that at once robbed Leelah of hope but also ensured that, in death at least, her life matters (and matters more than the deaths of the trans people whose distance to cisnormative beauty is even greater).
The issue of cisnormative beauty standards isn’t just about being pretty. This is something expressed by Leelah: “I’m never going to have enough love to satisfy me. I’m never going to find a man who loves me. I’m never going to be happy.”10
The issue of desirability and trans women is really contentious. This is the sort of thing that, when discussed by trans women of colour I know, leads to death threats and continuous online harassment.
Outside of porn, which treats trans women’s bodies as fetish objects and not as human individuals, there is no real representation of trans women as being desirable and worthy of love. The abject, pathetic trans woman is a common trope in media.
However, trying to have an honest and open discussion that challenges the transmisogyny of many people’s sexual and romantic ‘preferences’ is a risky affair online. As noted, the (nice) general response is “I simply don’t find trans women attractive because of penises” or something similar. At worst, this leads to (and this is very common from lesbians and feminists, when this is articulated by trans lesbians) accusations that trans women want to require that everyone have sex with us, whether they want to or not (basically accussing us of being rapists for wanting people to not be disgusted by our bodies). And, of course, the death threats.
Tie into this, the reality that a lot of Black and/or Latina trans women in the US are murdered every year by intimate partners who ‘discover’ that they aren’t ‘real’ women.
How, exactly, are we to offer hope to young trans girls that one day they might find love, romance, companionship, or whatever their hearts yearn for?
How comforting is it, exactly, for trans girls to hear cis people talk about how they would love a theoretical trans child but never talk about how they might love or date a real live trans adult? Or how cis people will never talk about the fact that when some of them are intimate with trans woman of colour, the result is often violent and can be deadly?
But this, especially, is one part of Leelah’s note that cis people do not want to deal with and won’t. Despite the fact that this very much is one part of society that needs fixing. I mean… we can’t even have these discussions in the LGBT community without trans women getting death threats and being accused of being rapists.
Leelah also writes, “I’m never going to transition successfully.”11 Like before, this is also about cisnormative standards of beauty. However, it goes deeper than this, since the sentence precedes Leelah’s painful expressions of body dysphoria: “I’m never going to be happy with the way I look or sound.”12 Because the issues contained in this aren’t limited to just the fact that women aren’t beautiful when we have large feet, big hands, Adam’s apples, deep voices, have facial hair, etc and so on.
But rather that, in a very real sense, if you have these things, you cannot be a ‘real’ woman. This is also what Leelah refers to when she talks about being perceived as a ‘man in drag’ for all her life. It is about the embodied reality that trans women aren’t real, should they have this combination of physical characteristics.
Take a look through the comments that the model Amiyah Scott gets on her Instagram account sometime.13 Easily one of the most beautiful women on the planet who, other than being Black, hits pretty much all the cisnormative requirements for beauty, and yet… Every single picture she posts has people misgendering her and denying her womanhood.
The despair of trans women goes so much deeper than just whether or not we are beautiful or ugly. It also goes much deeper than just Leelah’s parents’ refusal to recognize her girlhood. In so many ways, this is a world that tells trans women that we don’t really exist because we aren’t and will never be ‘real’ women. And this is, ultimately, a denial of our humanity.
As noted in the previous section, this denial of womanhood has very real (often violent) consequences for Black trans women like Amiyah Scott.
Leelah says “My death needs to mean something.”14 Combined with her demand that we ‘fix society.’ Addressing these concerns is what true justice for her will look like.
And, of course, based on above and what robbed Leelah of her hope, how do we move from these general, social problems into effective real change in the world?
We will start off easy — except that this one action appears to be impossible for many people — listen to what trans women, trans girls, are telling you.
The thing that has had me filled with rage and sorrow for the past few days isn’t just that Leelah killed herself, but that few people really appear to be listening to what she has to say about her life and death in her suicide note.
I made my critiques and analysis in this essay format, using normative grammar so that people who don’t normally take me seriously, might take me seriously for this one post. Why? Because people don’t want to listen and will use any excuse to discount what I’m writing.
Also distressing to me is that not a single part of Leelah’s narrative, as expressed in her note, is unique to her (in broad strokes, her story, of course is unique to her because it is hers alone). Trans women, especially the trans women of colour I know, have been speaking up about these things for a long time.
One of the most frustrating thing about having to even write this is knowing that I have blog posts on this blog that cover some of these ideas. Other trans women of colour have talked about every aspect I’ve discussed here. None of this is new.
But no one is listening. They aren’t listening to Leelah, despite all the attention her death is getting and they sure haven’t been listening to any of the living, breathing trans women of colour.
One of the reasons why I’ve been careful to talk about cisnormative standards of beauty and why this section has ‘girlhood’ not ‘womanhood’ is because people, both conservative and the left, refuse to believe that trans girls have a girlhood. Or, in more technical language, that we were socialized as girls.
Really read Leelah’s note and try to see how her comments about her body not being able to live up to some idealized idea of ‘woman’ is not really all that different from the experiences of cis girls. It is these same toxic elements of sexism that lead so many girls to develop eating disorders15.
All of this matters, especially for the mainstream media, since so many stories about Leelah use the wrong name. Just as story after story about trans women are sure to use the birth name of trans women and to remind readers that, once upon a time, we were actually boys. And, thus, raised as boys.
This very basic denial of girlhood, of course, is inextricably linked to a denial of womanhood.
This is an especially toxic idea that, unfortunately, is heavily mobilized by cis feminists as a way to deny trans girls/women access to women’s services. Likewise, this idea is also used by conservatives who induce bathroom panic about the dangers of allowing ‘men in dresses’ to use women’s washrooms.
All across America, at this very moment, there are schools systems re-evaluating their policies on trans children and far too many of them are coming up with solutions that force trans girls to use gender neutral facilities, rather than using the girls’. All of which is happening out of this very basic belief that trans girls aren’t girls.
So what can you do?
Get involved in your local school district and try to ensure that, when they attempt to create policy for trans students, that all trans kids can use the facilities of their gender (inclusive of having neutral facilities for non-binary children).
This is one concrete step you can take that will make a big difference for trans kids.
Also… advocate for exactly what Leelah asks for: “Gender needs to be taught about in schools, the earlier the better.”16
This is kind of a big one. But it is goes much deeper than just giving access to trans people (including kids) access to health care. Because the nature of this access matters a great deal.
One of the big elements of Leelah’s note are concerns around transition. One of the good parts of the late transition stories is that they are clearing up common misconceptions. And this kind of education is exactly what we need. In schools, as Leelah asks. But also out of schools. We just need it.
In the US, there are only a handful of states that prohibit insurance providers from excluding trans health care from their policies. Most insurance plans treat transition related health care as ‘cosmetic’ and do not cover them. This? Is a really big problem as it creates a large barrier for many trans adults in the US, since the individual cost of transition can get quite high, depending on what the individual wants.
Contact your representative and get them to start pushing legislation that prohibits this kind of medical discrimination.
But this isn’t the only problem. There are also lots of medical barriers for transition. In that the WPATH standards of care place an absurd burden on trans individuals who wish to medically transition. You should also push for an informed consent model.
This will be a thorny issue for most but as I mentioned in an earlier section, the issue of intimate partner violence is really important for trans women. As noted, many Black and/or Latina trans women in the US are murdered by their intimate partners.
Many more trans women experience intimate partner violence and abuse that, fortunately, does not result in death. Yet, we are consistently left out of not only statistics gathered about women and domestic violence, but we are completely invisible in pretty much all mainstream movements that attempt to address the violence women experience.
Moreover, most services for survivors of domestic violence do not serve trans women. And this denial of care is just as much the fault of feminists as it is the fault of conservatives, since both (for different reasons) will continuously deny that trans women are women, and thus should not be allowed to use these services.
What can you do?
Get involved in your local support services for survivors/victims of domestic assault and get them to include trans women in their services. To actually and really change their policies so that trans women who deal with intimate partner violence actually have support and service that they can use.
Leelah writes in her closing paragraph of her suicide note that “The only way I will rest in peace is if one day transgender people aren’t treated the way I was, they’re treated like humans, with valid feelings and human rights.”17 Notice the true force of this statement: that trans people are treated like human beings. It seems like such a small thing… and yet it is a fundamental part of the trans experience that few of us have our humanity recognized.
A society where trans girls are human means one that allows us access to gender appropriate facilities, like women’s shelters or, yes, public restrooms. One that does not deny us health care or, that when we can access it, puts up so many absurd and often insurmountable barriers. One where each of us is granted enough agency to actually know ourselves and our genders and have others treat us like the humans we are.
A world where trans girls can grow up to find love without the threat of violence. Where the girls with beards, man-hands, barrel chests, and so on can be seen as the beautiful and real women that we are. Where talking about sexual desire and fetishism of trans women doesn’t result in death threats and harassment. A world where not only do parents love their trans kids but where cis adults aren’t viscerally disgusted by the notion of dating a trans woman.
This is the world I want to live in. This is a world where a young girl like Leelah, struggling with abusive parents, might find enough hope to stay alive until she can get away.
And it is a world that, at the very least, starts with listening to trans women when we talk about our lives, experiences, and selves while we are still alive. But also one where people afford us dignity when we die.
This is not the world we live in today. And we will never get there so long as people, cis and trans alike, refuse to engage with the difficult, complex, messy parts of a society where trans girls aren’t treated like humans and everything that this entails.
1 Posthumously made famous after she committed suicide and left this note behind: https://web.archive.org/web/20150101132533/http://lazerprincess.tumblr.com/post/106447705738/suicide-note
2 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
3 And, of course, I’m referring to Stonewall and its two most prominent leaders: Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson, who were not the only trans women of colour present, but among those that history best remembers. Of course, I ought not to forget Miss Major, who is still alive and has an ongoing giving circle to support her as a Black trans elder.
4 ‘Transmisogyny’ is a term coined by Julia Serano in Whipping Girl to express the unique experience trans women have of gender-based oppression with in our culture/world.
5 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
6 People who were mostly left out of Dan Savage’s earlier campaign.
7 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
8 ‘Cis’ is the term for people who aren’t trans. ‘Cisnormative’ then, is similar to heternormative, in that it describes the aspect of our culture that says everyone ought to be cis and that being cis has certain qualities.
9 I heard of Mark’s death from friends of friends shortly after joining tumblr. Because Mark was also Filipin@, I dearly would have loved to know her and her art continues to comfort and inspire and break my heart today.
10 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
11 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
12 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
13 Amiyah Scott. Instagram account. http://instagram.com/kingamiyahscott/
14 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
15 Hey. It’s been pointed out to me that this is somewhat inaccurate as a general claim about eating disorders. I’ll admit that I was speaking from my own perspective and it should be noted that I’m using bad statistical analysis here (ie, generalizing from a sample size of one).
16 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
17 Alcorn, Leelah. “Suicide note.”
republished with permission from b.binaohan.org
One balmy summer evening when I was 14, my parents came home to find me in front of a fire, bent over a hot piece of metal, beating it with hammer. I had just seen a nearby blacksmith at work, and the roaring fire and the clanging of the hammer on steel had fascinated me. I felt a connection to the medium that was almost primal. It clicked seamlessly into the clockwork of my soul. I studied and practiced for years, working under a local reenactor, and selling forged wares to pay for the tools. I loved it, I really did, but behind my enthusiasm was another motive.
I was assigned male at birth, but all through my childhood I had learned that if I acted like myself, then I would get called a faggot and kicked around the playground. I had been girly for years, and here was a ready-made way for me to do something badass while being able to use it to hide myself in a gendered cloak.
And it worked! Even though I tended to squeak when happy, and skip from class to class, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was manly. Something about my identity as a blacksmith seemed to set me firmly amongst the ranks of the masculine. That was fine by me; whatever it took to not have people doubt my gender. Besides, I was having fun!
Unfortunately, my passion for the craft became less of a blessing when I came out as transgender. People would look surprised and say, “But…you can’t be a girl. You’re a blacksmith!” My adherence to my passion as a gendered activity ended up negating the reality of my inner feelings. I may be trans, but people didn’t believe me because of my craft. In order to prove to others that I was “legitimately female,” I had to change much of who I was and what I did. I didn’t pick up a hammer again for four years.
All of the depictions of blacksmiths around me were male. Video games and books all featured bearded muscly men in forges. When I read about blacksmithing as a kid, it was by male authors writing for a male audience. Now, after transitioning, I get surprised looks whenever I tell people that I am a blacksmith. They seem dumbfounded that a chipper little five foot five girl could swing a sledgehammer. The image of blacksmiths has been so uniformly defined as male by video games and fantasy movies that we’ve lost sight of the historical reality of that profession.
Beard, large muscles, terrible blacksmithing technique. This man is two seconds away from a third degree burn.
Via war-of-the-fallen.wikia.com
Contrary to popular belief, women in Europe and North America have been documented as smiths of all kinds for at least the last 800 years. Whenever I bring the subject up, someone historically informed person says “but guilds wouldn’t have allowed women to be blacksmiths!” In fact, women and girls as far back as the 14th century have been granted entry through paternity, marriage or an apprenticeship. An able body in a business was an able body, regardless of sex. Many women became so enmeshed in their husband or father’s businesses as to inherit them or be able to take over the work.
The Holkham Bible is full of illustrations of the working classes of 14th Century England. The pictures range from carpenters to midwives to smiths to naked baby Jesus sliding down a sunbeam. One of the most well known of these pictures shows a large nosed woman, the wife of the nearby blacksmith, forging a nail at the anvil. Her husband, meanwhile, cannot work because his hand is all pustule-ridden and gross. Either he burned himself or he had the plague.
Via bl.uk
A woodcut from Flanders in the 1300s portrays a master armourer and his two apprentices at work. In the background, a woman tends hot irons in the fire. This image illustrates that women, while not always master smiths, were often an integral part of European metalworking.
Via medievalists.net
Despite sexist reimaginings and the rampant sexism of the age, medieval records list women as laborers in all trades, from cathedral builders to wool merchants. The 1434 Charter of the Worshipful Company of Blacksmiths, the most important metalworking guild in London, even lists two “sistren” alongside its sixty-five “brethren.” While we do not know the identities of these women smiths, their existence in such an organization was significant enough to be noted.
Girls were not restricted to learning trades through men, though. Ample documentation exists of girls being apprenticed to all manner of craftsmen throughout the middle ages. Such women were free to practice their crafts upon completion of their indenture, often taking girls in as apprentices.
While apprenticeships are no longer the standard, I have ended up working for and with several older smiths, learning from them as I went. My first instructor and mentor, Burton Sargent, was the blacksmith as the historical reenactment village in Salem, Massachusetts. We worked in a blacksmith’s shop with the same tools available to colonial smiths in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. While his tattoos of toucans and mandalas weren’t exactly period, his methods certainly were. Pumping the massive bellows by hand and swinging the heavy hammers were grueling tasks. Any apprentice, boy or girl, would have been exhausted at the end of the day.
Burt in the Salem Preservation Newsletter, August 2007 Photo by Rex Passion
Via salempreservation.org
By the 18th century, the place of independent craftswomen was enshrined in London custom:
“Married women who practice certain crafts in the city alone and without their husbands, may take girls as apprentices to serve them and learn their trade, and these apprentices shall be bound by their indentures of apprenticeship to both husband and wife, to learn the wife’s trade as is aforesaid, and such indentures shall be enrolled as well for women as for men.”
The official list of the aforementioned “certain crafts” is astonishingly long and varied. Approved trades included those of shearman, cloth presser and dresser, merchant, Brewster, clothworker, joiner, mariner, musician basketmaker, cobbler, dyer, hatmaker, dornex weaver (wtf is a dornex?), upholsterer, cordwainer, cooper, carpenter, glover, tobacco pipe maker, plumber and, of course, blacksmith. Good old traditional women’s work.
One of my favorite documentations of women in 18th century forges comes from the English writer William Hutton. In his record of a visit to the town of Birmingham in 1741, he writes, “In some of [the blacksmithing shops] I observed one or more females, stripped of their upper garments, and not overcharged of the lower, wielding the hammer with all the grace of the sex. The beauties of their faces were rather eclipsed by the smut of the anvil.”
While Hutton was taken aback by their appearance (it sounds pretty hot to me), women as nail makers were very common in smithing towns like Birmingham.
A woman blacksmith from Poor Richard’s Almanac.
Via images.fineartamerica.com
One of the most famous female blacksmiths in US history lived around this time. Betsy Hager was orphaned at the age of nine, and sold into bondage to a Boston farmer in 1779. As she grew she earned herself the nickname “Handy Betty” because she could make or fix absolutely anything.
During the Revolutionary War, she threw herself into the fight for independence by working with blacksmith Samuel Leverett. Together these two badasses secretly used their skills to rebuild and refurbish antique muskets and rifles for use by American soldiers. Betsy even repaired six abandoned British cannons after the Battle of Concord.
Blacksmithing partnerships aren’t always as heroic as Betsy and Samuel’s. At one point during my career, I worked for another blacksmith and welder, cleaning the studio and doing production forging. While I was grateful for the experience, and learned much in his studio, the realities of being a physically small transgender woman were problematic. Short and shark-eyed, with a frightening ability to make anything seem reasonable, my boss went from taking me under his wing to something more sinister. As I worked, my duties were slowly expanded to include everything from keeping secrets from my fiancé to suffering constant inappropriate comments on my appearance. I was there to be his “hot little girl assistant,” and he seldom let me forget it. My being trans was, for him, a secret that he could keep, giving him some measure of power over me. Most of my non-forging duties around the shop, and occasional frighteningly large gifts, were prefaced by a whispered, “Don’t tell Sarah!” None of this sat well with my fiancée or me, and when it became clear that he was currently on parole for murder, I left the job.
I was extremely lucky to be able to leave, but many women, especially those involved in industrial metalwork, didn’t and don’t have that option. Women in workshops across the west midland of England had to take negligible pay and poor treatment from the 18th through the 20th centuries. By the 1900s women comprised much of the chain making labor in the towns such as Cradley Heath. In 1910, after suffering generations of hardship, the women of the town banded together to campaign for higher wages. The campaign was successful, with the implementation of a minimum wage for women smiths. The chain maker’s strike is still celebrated yearly, and the new regional flag has chains on it.
Via cradleylinks.com
Through the 20th and 21st century, women have become a more and more significant demographic in the blacksmithing community, with artists like Lorelei Sims, Elizabeth Brimm, and Becky Little making amazing contributions to the craft. But despite this, and despite the extensive history of women metalsmiths, the single story of the blacksmith as masculine persists, feeding into the gendering of workplaces and professions. Women metalworkers, construction workers, programmers and engineers have always existed, and our existence should not be a surprise.
It was really because of this that I downplayed my blacksmithing history for years. I studied glassblowing, jewelry making, but still I had an innate love of ironwork. I took up the hammer again when my mentor, Burt, got in contact with me. I hadn’t gotten in touch with him out of fear of rejection. But I was surprised and delighted to find him completely overjoyed. He smiled broadly, “Willow now? Wonderful! Wonderful! ” He gave me a massive hug. Somehow, his utter, unquestioning acceptance gave me the courage to return to a craft that I loved, without worry about how I might be seen by others. If he, as a blacksmith, had no trouble with it, then neither did I. Now metalwork, something that used to be a shield and cloak for me to hide behind, has become something that I can love openly and wholeheartedly. Women have been hammering hot iron for centuries, so I can, too.
“If you are not sure whether you should call or not, then please call.”
Trans Lifeline is the first crisis and suicide hotline dedicated to the wellbeing of transgender people, and it already started taking calls just at the end of last year. Greta Martela and her partner Nina Chaubal started it “on a whim on a Sunday afternoon” in September. Nina works on the technical aspects of the hotline while Greta gets the word out about it. Trans Lifeline (877-565-8860) is staffed exclusively by transgender volunteers who are there to support transgender callers, and welcomes genderqueer, questioning and otherwise gender non-conforming folks as well. I was lucky enough to speak with Greta over the phone, and she made it clear that Trans Lifeline also welcomes calls from all folks — parents, friends and partners regardless of gender — who are looking for a resource to support a trans loved one.
Many of us have been reminded yet again of the urgent need for such a resource by the recent passing of Leelah Alcorn, the transgender girl from Ohio who died by suicide on December 28th. The prevalence of suicide attempts among transgender and gender non-conforming adults is 41%, according to the National Transgender Discrimination Survey as reported by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and the Williams Institute, UCLA School of Law. This is a staggering fact on its own, and even more so in comparison to the prevalence of suicide attempts among the overall U.S. population (4.6%), and lesbian, gay and bisexual adults (10-20%). In one way, it is incredible that something like this didn’t exist before. In another way, it is all too regrettable that something like this is so dearly needed.
As all brilliant, thoughtful entrepreneurial projects go, Trans Lifeline is currently running a GoFundMe campaign to fund the hotline itself while they wait to be officially approved as a 501c3 (non-profit) organization. In addition, they hope to use the funds to run a large outreach campaign “to make sure that [their] toll free number is readily available to trans people everywhere.”
It’s important to note crisis and suicide hotlines are available for people who are suicidal, struggling with self-harm, and also their friends and loved ones. Anyone touched by suicide or self-harm can call a crisis or hotline for support. In this case, Trans Lifeline is there for trans people and their loved ones.
If you are concerned about privacy, I’m happy to tell you that calls to Trans Lifeline are routed through their answering service, and as such remain completely anonymous. In addition, if you’re nervous or curious about who might answer your call, you can go to their website and check the column on the right to check who is on call. The line covers the United States (877-565-8860) and Canada (877-330-6366), and while it is based in San Francisco, their volunteers live all over the US.
Leelah Alcorn, a seventeen-year-old transgender girl from Ohio, has committed suicide and left a suicide note detailing the bullying and abuse she received from her parents and peers. This is a terrible and tragic end to the year and a reminder of just how lethal and toxic transmisogyny (and specifically transmisogyny, not “LGBT bullying” or even “transphobia”) is.
Leelah found out what being transgender meant at the age of fourteen and was so happy that she cried. While she found some support from friends and online, the attacks she faced from her family and from others were too much for her and three years later she committed suicide. Leelah was an artist and should have had a bright future ahead of her.
Her parents apparently completely denied her identity and even refused to let her transition, telling her that “it was a phase” that she “would never truly be a girl” and that “God doesn’t make mistakes.” Leelah had to endure hateful messages like this from her parents for years. Her parents even took her to Christian “therapists” who told her the same thing and that she should look to God for help. This is the exact opposite of what people should tell trans youth. Leelah pleaded that any parents reading her note would not tell their kids the same thing because it would only lead to them hating themselves.
Her mother even took to Facebook to misgender and misname her daughter, committing one more act of violence against Leelah even after she had died.
Life seemed hopeless for Leelah. She thought that she would never be able to transition or live the life she wanted and deserved. We need to change society so that young trans girls no longer feel that way. We live in a garbage society that tells young girls like her that they’ll never find friends, that they’ll never feel beautiful, that they’ll never find love and that they’ll never be happy.
In her note, she demanded that we bring about change.
The only way I will rest in peace is if one day transgender people aren’t treated the way I was, they are treated like humans, with valid feelings and human rights. Gender needs to be taught about in schools, the earlier the better… My death needs to be counted in the number of transgender people who commit suicide this year. I want someone to look at that number and say “that’s fucked up” and fix it. Fix society. Please.
Leelah felt that she had no hope, that things don’t get better for trans teens like herself. In order to show trans youth that they can have successful and happy lives, many trans women and other trans people are taking to twitter using the hashtag #RealLiveTransAdult. There are writers, engineers, business people, people in happy relationships, people with tons of friends and many other happy trans adults showing that there is the possibility of a happy future.
In her note, Leelah asked that all her money and possessions be donated to Trans Rights groups. While it’s doubtful her parents will support that wish, you can donate to groups or causes in her name, including the Trans Women of Color Collective, The Sylvia Rivera Law Project, Trans Youth Support Network, Trans Student Educational Resources, and many others.
Rest in peace and power, Leelah, you deserved so much better.
A coalition of New York State Organizations scored a major victory this week when Governor Andrew Cuomo and the NY Department of Health announced that Medicaid would begin covering transgender healthcare, removing a 1998 regulation that had barred Medicaid coverage of hormone replacement therapy and gender affirming surgery for trans people.
Medicaid, the state-run program which helps low-income people cover costs of medical care, is critical for trans people, and especially trans women. This is particularly important for trans people (and again, especially trans women) of color, who are disproportionately likely to be living in poverty and unable to pay out of pocket for gender-affirming healthcare treatments.
The Sylvia Rivera Law Project (SRLP) has been part of this campaign since it opened in 2002, alongside various other groups organizing around transgender issues in New York. Elana Redfield, director of SRLP’s Survival and Self-Determination Project, spoke with me about the campaign and its impact on transgender New Yorkers. “Because of how deeply healthcare is related to all aspects of our lives,” she said. “We see [organizing around healthcare] popping up everywhere that transgender people are organizing.”
“People currently navigating oppression are powerful and capable of changing the world (and winning campaigns), because we’re brilliant strategists, and have first hand insight into what the obstacles to change are, who we can bring into our cause, and ultimately how to make transformation irresistible.” – Reina Gossett
The announcement comes just one week after Governor Cuomo announced that private insurance companies would be required to cover trans healthcare. Earlier this year, the Federal Department of Health and Human Services determined that Medicare will not automatically reject claims for coverage of gender affirming surgeries.
The treatments included are quite comprehensive, ranging from hormone replacement therapy to gender affirming surgery. The governor’s office said that in order to qualify, “Referring medical professionals will have to document that a patient has persistent gender dysphoria, has received appropriate hormone therapy a minimum of one year, has lived a minimum of one year in the gender role consistent with the person’s gender identity and has received mental health counseling.” Medicaid will not cover treatments for people under 18 or 21, depending on the circumstances. Redfield explained why this is not ideal:
“[The issue of healthcare for young trans people] is tricky because a lot of factors come into play, including protocols of medical providers. Some will recommend only hormone blockers, others will recommend more comprehensive treatments. However, early intervention is very powerful, especially the ability to delay onset of puberty and secondary sex characteristics, and all young trans people and families of young trans people should have the option.
There is also some ambiguity around the extent to which procedures that are considered “cosmetic,” because while the regulation excludes specific cosmetic procedures, it also defines cosmetic in such a way that could be interpreted differently according to an individual’s medical needs. Surgeries that might sometimes be considered “cosmetic” are critical in comprehensive healthcare for trans people. Redfield said, “I can’t tell you how critical [facial surgery] is, how many clients of mine get facial surgeries and how it changes their lives.” She continued,
“Trans advocates have been chipping away at the “cosmetic” idea all along but I think it’s going to be a big part of our next steps. Things that help us affirm ourselves are not cosmetic, and should be defined by the individual themselves. If you ask me. Or the dozens of medical experts who have documented the impact of facial surgeries on self esteem and quality of life.”
Redfield noted that working towards ensuring coverage for people under 18 and for facial and hair removal surgery will likely be central to advocacy around trans healthcare in New York moving forward.
Demanding affordable Healthcare outside the NY State Department of Health in December 2013. via SRLP
This victory comes after a sixteen-year campaign, since the discriminatory regulation was enacted in 1998.
“The impact was quick and deep,” wrote Redfield in a statement on SRLP’s website. “Many trans people on Medicaid lost hormones and started being denied surgeries they could previously get, which made people very quickly aware of the impact of the regulation,” she said later in an email.
A wide coalition of organizations have worked together on the campaign over the years. Together, they have pressured the New York State Department of Health through direct action, petitions, law suits and media campaigns, drawing inspiration from Basic Rights Oregon, TransJustice at the Audre Lorde Project, a campaign at Critical Resistance to stop the building of a jail in the South Bronx and activism around AIDS.
Reina Gossett, SRLP member and former membership director, spent several years coordinating the campaign at SRLP, spoke to why these campaigns were successful:
“These campaigns had the shared principle of centering the leadership of those impacted by the issues at hand, whether a jail or the denial of benefits or healthcare. I believe they were all successful, not only because people currently navigating oppression are powerful and capable of changing the world (and winning campaigns), but because we’re brilliant strategists, and have first hand insight into what the obstacles to change are, who we can bring into our cause, and ultimately how to make transformation irresistible.”
Led by those affected by the old regulation, this year members of SRLP took the stage at the HxRefractored Conference in New York City while the New York State Health Commissioner spoke, calling for an end to Medicaid exclusions. Later in the summer, SRLP, Legal Aid and Willkie, Farr and Gallagher filed a class action suit against the State of New York on behalf of two trans women denied medically necessary care while on New York State Medicaid.
Activists take the stage during NY State Health Commissioner’s Speech at HxR Conference in May. via @ericachain
This victory comes at a moment when transgender issues and visibility are more visible in the mainstream than they’ve ever been. The week that Laverne Cox was on the cover of TIME with the cover story titled “The Transgender Tipping Point” was the same week that SRLP, Legal Aid and Willke, Farr and Gallagher brought their lawsuit against the state. The convergence of these two events is telling. It shows how while trans visibility might be growing, the reality for many if not most trans people is still one marked by discrimination and the inability to access healthcare. However, more familiarity with trans issues in media made it so that the suit had a lot of publicity, and was ultimately a major factor in the repeal of the regulation. The first suit SRLP filed several years ago wasn’t successful in the same way.
But ultimately, the New York State Department of Health didn’t see Laverne Cox on the cover of TIME and think, “Wow, you know, I better make sure that trans people are fully covered by Medicaid.” The success of this campaign is because of the leadership of trans people of color and low-income trans people who were affected by the regulation and worked tirelessly to bring about its repeal. As Redfield said,
“Trans people of color and low income trans people have been struggling and organizing all along, because this is a life or death issue. And activism around transgender health care by mainstream trans activists has continued diligently and beautifully for more than 12 years. It dates back a lot longer… All throughout, we were taking and supporting leadership from trans people of color, and strategizing on ways to safely and effectively communicate our message while building the political voice and power of our communities. I think it worked!”
feature image via shutterstock
The approaching winter holidays means a lot of things — mailboxes full of cards, malls packed with frenzied shoppers, raucous boozy work parties, Grumpy Cat in a Santa hat, and the endless onslaught of relentlessly cheery Christmas music pouring from every speaker. (At least I assume that’s what’s playing; I wear earplugs in public from October to January to avoid such things.) For people who still have a relationship with their blood relatives, it also generally means some kind of family togetherness. For us queer folks, even when families are fairly accepting, the cultural divide between us and our mostly-straight families can make holiday get-togethers a little (or a lot) awkward. There’s nothing quite like your weird uncle dropping a slur in the middle of Christmas dinner to liven the mood!
Sure, there are definitely families that are just so open and accepting of their queer and trans family members that the entire occasion looks like a movie on ABC Family. But for the rest of us, there can be a bit of trepidation when the yearly trip to Grandma’s approaches. Over time, we adapt to our particular brand of family weirdness. But the first Christmas after coming out can be a downright terrifying time. While our queerness might not be literal news at this point, Christmas is often the first time we’ve had to deal with the entire clan all at once since our momentous coming out. It might be the first time our families meet our partners. For trans people, it’s not-infrequently the first time our families see us presenting as our true selves. Much of this was the case for me last year. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t comfortable but I survived. Now I want to share my experiences and help all of you survive your first out Christmases, too. So here are ten suggestions for getting through the big day.
1. Start With Self Care
You’re going to be in a much better place to deal with the family complications if you’ve taken the time to take care of yourself first. For a day or two or five before the big event, make sure you take some time to do things you love and that bring you emotional comfort. For some folks, that might be exercise. Take a long run, or do a few good sessions of yoga, or squeeze in a quick buzkashi match (but only if you have a goat readily available). For others, it might be mental stimulation like reading, writing, meditation, or 3-D invisible chess. Recharge your social batteries by either spending time friends you really enjoy (for you extrovert weirdos), or take some quiet time alone (for us introverts). Treat yourself to something nice like massage, a mani-pedi, or a new haircut. If you’re partnered, indulge in some sexytime and cuddles to get your endorphins up, though I suggest avoiding hickies unless you like weird stares from Great Aunt Theresa. In any case, self-care helps put you on good emotional footing. The better emotional state you are in to start, the more likely you are to come out of the day mostly intact.
You deserve something nice. (image via tumblr )
2. Prepare yourself.
They’re your family, so hopefully you have at least a reasonable idea of what you’re getting yourself into. Try to imagine which relatives are likely to cause trouble so you make a point to avoid them. Put some thought into the kinds of questions your family might ask you and mentally sketch out some answers. Have some witty retorts ready to combat invasive questions from that cousin with boundary issues or passive-aggressive comments from that one mean aunt that everyone has. You don’t to have a canned answer on queue cards for every situation, but taking a little time to be ready for what’s coming can do wonders to boost your confidence. Having that confidence will set a tone for your interactions for the duration of your visit.
3. Form alliances.
This is particularly helpful if you’ve got other queer folks in the family, but really, having anyone around that you absolutely know will be on your side can make a world of difference. Find other people who are likely to draw ire or scorn from the rest of the family and make a pact to stand up for one another if things get uncomfortable. Maybe it’s your cousin Greg who ran off to grow marijuana in Colorado, or your niece Zoey who dropped out of college to open a food truck. If you have family members that you know are super queer or trans supportive, connect with them before hand, too. Civil tongues and cool heads are more likely to prevail when no one is being singled out. Go Team Likely-To-Be-Judged!
4. Set firm boundaries.
Coming out doesn’t mean that your entire life has to be up for examination during the holidays. You are just as entitled to your privacy as anyone else. You are not obligated to give an in-depth recap of your current dating situation, or tell Aunt Marcia all about the ins-and outs of scissoring. Share as much or little of your queer life as your are comfortable, and if things get too personal or too invasive, just kindly inform Uncle Dave you just aren’t interested in discussing how you find dates.
Seriously, don’t ask about my sex life! (image via tumblr)
5. Laugh through the awkwardness.
Sometime, families do or say truly bizarre things. It can help to step back from situation mentally so that you can find the humor in what’s going instead of getting upset or frustrated. Giggle at the fact that your cousin with the biology major seriously asked you if you could get pregnant after transition. Laugh at the sheer sitcom-level ridiculousness of your sister’s boyfriend asking if you if you’re the boy or girl in your relationship. In all likelihood, if you’re laughing, you won’t be crying, and that can help you get through the day.
6. Help yourself stay chill.
When all else fails, refill your wine glass (or get another beer, or make another cocktail). Drinking to deal with your family at the holidays is a time-honored tradition, and I see no reason to abandon it now. It gives you something to do with your hand, and putting the glass to your lips is a good way to signal avoidance of a discussion. Plus, the alcohol will take the edge off of your nerves and help you care a bit less about any drama that will erupt. Take care not to become scene-making drunk, though. Leave that for Uncle Ed. (And, definitely do not drink if you need to drive yourself home.)
If you don’t drink, the holidays can be even more stressful, because they often mean you’re surrounded by alcohol and drunk people. You can treat yourself with a festive and delicious non-alcoholic drink or mocktail. Think about what strategies you might need in the moment, whether that’s prescription medication you take for anxiety, calling a sponsor, or pretending to take a phone call so you can step into a quiet room and do breathing exercises for five minutes.
If all else fails, have another glass. (image via gifatron)
7. Find ways to escape.
Sometimes you just need to get a little air and a little space. Taking a break from interacting can help you center yourself, cool off from a brewing confrontation, or just end an uncomfortable conversation. Pretend to need something from your coat, or just take a few minutes of quiet in the bathroom. Tell everyone you need to take a walk around the block to help your food digest. Offer to make emergency runs for more rolls/napkins/booze. Smokers have a built-in excuse for these situations, but I strongly recommend against taking up smoking for this purpose.
8. Engage only on your terms.
The age-old wisdom is that nothing ruins a party faster than someone bringing up politics. But, it seems like there’s always someone in the family who wants to turn the holidays into a campaign trail debate. You are not at all required to oblige your Republican aunt’s desire to discuss the Affordable Care Act or the merits of repealing Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. If you do choose to engage in political discussions, you have every right to the set the terms of those discussions, especially if the issues being discussed are personal to you (like gay marriage, Laverne Cox, or ENDA). Feel free to walk out of the discussion if things get too charged, or if slurs and bullshit stereotypes enter the conversation. You don’t have to be the queer political whipping post, particularly if you come from a family that leans heavily to the right.
9. Bring a friend.
If you’re comfortable and ready, consider bringing your significant other for moral support. If you’re single or not ready for the big meet, ask a friend to come along. A fair number of people don’t have anywhere to go for the holidays and would be glad for the chance for a little holiday dinner and merrymaking. And Christmas drama is WAY more amusing when it’s not your own family! Having someone there whose support for you is absolute can make a difficult day more tolerable, and it gives you someone to laugh/commiserate with about the experience later on. Plus, in my experience, families are a lot less likely to start trouble when there are outsiders present to judge the shit out of them for their bigotry. Your guest will ensure everyone is on their best behavior!
I’m just here to watch the shit show. (image via reactiongifs)
10. Get the f*ck out when you’ve reached your limit.
Just showing up to begin with is a HUGE victory. You only have to stay for as long as you want to be there. If things start to get ugly, or there are a few too many people who’ve had a few too many, start your goodbye hugs and make for the door. Make an excuse of you feel you need the cover; after all, you’re a busy, important queer person with lots of busy, important queer things to do and you really must be going.
SorryGottaGoLoveYouBye (image via tumblr)
I feel like I’d be remiss if I didn’t also include some suggestions for folks who find themselves without a family to visit for the holidays after coming out. Getting through this time of year can be especially difficult if you had strong family bonds before your coming out. Focus on taking care of yourself, and connecting those who do accept and support you. If it’s within your means, consider taking some time to host or organize a non-family holiday gathering for the queer folks in your life. Spend some time volunteering with local queer groups. Or just say fuck it and spend your Christmas drinking fruity umbrella drinks on the beach (or in your living room, watching Blue Crush). They taste better than eggnog anyway.
On Monday evening, approximately 200 people gathered in Washington Square Park for “Free Our Sisters, Free Ourselves,” a gathering to honor Black women and trans and gender non-conforming people who have been murdered by the police. As part of the 11 Days of Action called for by #ThisStopsToday, Free Our Sisters was held in solidarity with other protests against the Staten Island grand jury’s failure to indict officers in the killing of Eric Garner. Hosted by the Audre Lorde Project and several allied organizations (FIERCE, Streetwise and Safe, Sylvia Rivera Law Project, and Anti Violence Project), the event began with a large vigil and concluded with a tour of prominent sites of violence and resistance in the queer and trans struggle for prison abolition and police accountability.
In contrast with the vast and thundering NYC Millions March that originated from the same location just two days prior, Free Our Sisters was a reserved, community affair. At the start of the vigil, organizers gathered participants into a large circle, singing “we found love in a hopeless place.” Organizers discussed how that they had specifically chosen not to hold a march — rather, they wanted to give voice to resistance without risking members of the community being arrested, acknowledging that many in the space had survived violence.
This is what community looks like #FreeOurSisters #ThisStopsToday #11Days #LGBTQ pic.twitter.com/SAIiADDUJl
— AVP (@antiviolence) December 16, 2014
“To be clear, we are not here to change the system. We are here to shut it down,” said Audre Lorde Project member Simone. “Audre Lorde reminds us that the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. And in this moment, this struggle is not about bad cops. This struggle is about all cops. This is about transforming the system of oppression that created and sustained the prison-industrial complex. Let’s not forget that police forces were originally built to control and murder indigenous and Black people in this country… We’re socialized to turn to social workers and police when things happen, but we have resilience and resistance, strategies that have always worked for us. Let us rely on each other.”
Supportive cheers resounded.
“In the words of Audre Lorde, ‘we must fight knowing we were never meant to survive,” said Cara Page, Executive Director of the Audre Lorde Project. “We call upon the legacy of the Stonewall uprising. We call upon the legacy in the fight for our freedoms from the racist, homophobic, transphobic, classist, ableist, violent system. Tonight we will call out the names of some, not all — the ones that we know have been killed at the hands of the police, or from their neglect in upholding our safety. We cannot name all the names because often we are disappeared and not remembered.”
#FreeOurSisters! Here in Washington Square Park with @audrelorde. #TransLivesMatter #BlackLivesMatter pic.twitter.com/mOH2fzoqDq
— Naimah Hakim (@NaimahHakim) December 15, 2014
In tribute, Anti-Violence Project Community Organizer LaLa Zannell stood before the group and called out the names of victims of police brutality, including Yvette Smith, Eleanor Bumpurs, Aiyana Stanley-Jones, Tarika Wilson, Islan Nettles, Marlene Carey, Marsha P. Johnson, Latanya Haggerty, Margaret Mitchell, and Aura Rosser. Members of the crowd responded with “presente” and chimed in with additional names.
Following this, the group split into four sections where they received instructions to disperse, travel separately, and meet up flash-mob style in four locations around Greenwich Village: Stonewall Inn, the former Women’s House of Detention, the ICP Center, and outside of the old Barnes and Noble on the corner of 6th Ave and 8th Street. Once reassembled, participants were given a quick history lesson on the location’s relevance to the movement.
The Stonewall Inn.
In 1969, the Stonewall Inn became the site of one of the most important protests in LGBT American history. On June 28 and 29, crowds fought against the then-common police raids of the bar. Although this fact is frequently erased, the Stonewall riots were led by trans women of color.
Today, Black queer women are still frequently uncredited, even as they lead some of the most high profile social justice actions around the country. This includes Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi, the creators of #BlackLivesMatter.
Magically, a crowd appears @ former women's house of detention following footsteps of #stonewall warriors vs #NYPD pic.twitter.com/qpLx5kscL1
— Andrea Ritchie also @dreanyc123.bsky.social (@dreanyc123) December 16, 2014
From 1932 to 1971, the Women’s House of Detention was located in Greenwich Village. Many women were held here, including Angela Davis, who was incarcerated as a political prisoner for 18 months. (Later, she was cleared of all charges.) While inside the prison, Davis mobilized prisoners and initiated a bail program. When she left, Davis co-founded Critical Resistance, a grassroots prison abolition organization that popularized the term “prison-industrial complex.”
Chanting in front of IFC center ! pic.twitter.com/XlrdEqqRb5
— Audre Lorde Project (@audrelorde) December 16, 2014
In 2006, seven Black lesbians were arrested for defending themselves outside the IFC Center movie theater. After 19-year-old Patreese Johnson turned down several raunchy advances by Dwayne Buckle, he called her anti-lesbian slurs and jumped on another member of the group, Renata Hill. The friends stepped in and successfully defended her.
Although the attacker never received any punishment within the criminal justice system, the women themselves were painted as “gang members” and criminalized. Three of the women entered into plea agreements and received six-months in prison. The remaining four received initial sentences ranging from three and a half to 11 years in prison.
https://twitter.com/simongdunham/status/544646478703390721
Last May, Mark Carson, a black gay man, was murdered at the corner of 6th Ave and 8th street for simply walking on the street with another man. The killer, Elliot Morales, heckled the pair with anti-gay slurs, pulled out a gun and shot Carson to death.
To many, Carson’s death was particularly shocking because it had taken place in the middle of gay-friendly Greenwich Village. It brought to light a grim truth: for people who are both LGBT and Black, there are very few places of sanctuary.
For more, check out the Audre Lorde Project’s live tweets from the event at @audrelorde. They are also putting together a short documentary film.
The use of smartphones and social media have been critical in large and small-scale grassroots organizing, from the Arab Spring in 2011 to #BlackLivesMatter protests currently sweeping across the US in the wake of the grand jury decisions to not indict the police officers who murdered Mike Brown and Eric Garner. Carrying phones has become vital for documenting, staying connected to other organizers and staying safe.
However, carrying phones also carries risk, because communications between them are subject to surveillance, and because they hold so much information about our lives. While this data is technically — partially — protected from search by the Fourth Amendment, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that our right to privacy is not always honored by law enforcement. Police have many tactics for extracting data both through surveillance and direct intimidation and coercion. It’s important to know how to protect yourself and your data, and to know your rights related to your electronics if you are protesting and interacting with or near law enforcement.
“Berkeley police officers advance on a crowds during demonstrations in Berkeley, California on Saturday, December 6, 2014.” photo by Josh Edelson of the San Francisco Chronicle
This is by no means a complete list, I am not a legal expert, and taking these steps cannot guarantee your safety or privacy, especially in the face of heavy police militarization, and especially for heavily-targeted black, brown, trans and queer bodies. Here are three things related to your tech that are important to keep in mind when protesting:
As the non-indictment in Eric Garner’s murder has reminded us, having video of police breaking the law doesn’t guarantee they will be held accountable. However, it has been shown that when police are filmed, it can help deescalate the situation and protect people from being assaulted or having their rights violated.
The precise rules and specifications vary from state to state, particularly with regards to sound, because some states count the audio portion of videotaping as wiretapping. But across the board, if you are in a public space, you are allowed to photograph and document video footage of the police. Police won’t necessarily like this, and they may tell you to stop, but as long as you are on public property, you have the right to do so.
If your phone is able, it is good to find a way to stream video directly from your phone to the internet, or post photos online directly after taking them. This makes it so even if your phone is taken and opened by the police, they cannot delete the photos or footage.
We’ve talked about apps created by the ACLU for filming police before, which come equipped with know your rights reminders and can also help protect your footage. CopBlock also has a list of apps for streaming video straight from your phone to the internet.
This summer, the Supreme Court handed down a decision that specified that if you are arrested, police are not allowed to search your phone without your consent or a warrant. In his opinion, Chief Justice Roberts said cellphones “are not just another technological convenience… they hold for many Americans ‘the privacies of life.'”
However, this doesn’t mean that an officer won’t ask or pressure you to unlock your phone. If you find yourself being asked by an officer to unlock your phone, you can say you do not consent and ask to speak to your lawyer.
HOWEVER, a Virginia Circuit Court judge recently ruled that you CAN be compelled to use your fingerprint to open your phone if it is only locked by a fingerprint scan. This opens a new avenue of ambiguity for what does and doesn’t qualify as a justified search, but ultimately what it means is it is critical that your phone be protected by a passcode.
via NBC News
Even though you are constitutionally protected, it’s still possible for police to gain access to your phone and your data by coercion, intimidation or surveillance. Thus, it is important to consider how you want to protect your data if you think you might end up in a protest situation where you are interacting with law enforcement. To minimize the amount of information police can obtain about you if they are looking at data coming to and from your phone or if they do gain access to your phone, delete unnecessary applications and information before protesting.
Protecting your data can be especially important for queer and trans people. If your phone has photos, apps or other data that could out you or otherwise subject you to increased risk of profiling or violence by police if they manage to see it, consider removing that information before you protest. The Chicago National Lawyers Guild teamed up with the Sylvia Rivera Law Project and the National Center for Transgender Equality to make a know your rights sheet for trans and queer people participating in direct action.
NDTV has guides to securely delete your personal data from your iPhone or Android.
Another way to avoid carrying all of your data around with you during a protest is to get a temporary device that isn’t attached to your name. If that’s not feasible, the Electronic Frontier Foundation has a Cell Phone Guide for US Protesters, which notes, “Text messages… can be read and stored by your phone company or by surveillance equipment in the area.” If you want to protect the content of your messages from being read by law enforcement, use apps like WhatsApp that use end-to-end encryption.
Check out the Electronic Frontier Foundation’s extensive Surveillance Self-Defense Guide for Activists or Protesters to learn more.
This has been the one-hundred-eighth installment of Queer Your Tech with Fun, Autostraddle’s nerdy tech column. Not everything we cover is queer per se, but we talk about customizing this awesome technology you’ve got. Having it our way, expressing our appy selves just like we do with our identities. Here we can talk about anything from app recommendations to choosing a wireless printer to web sites you have to favorite to any other fun shit we can do with technology. Header by Rory Midhani.