transgenders have the tendency to deceive men in thinking they are women ,so that is the reason why people kill them ,So shemales must be honest to others,but of course that is no reason to kill someone
though i had sex with a black transgender before but i
did not kill him .
Honestly, I don't know whether to laugh out loud at such obvious ignorance or weep for our future. Somehow I think my FtM brethern would join me in disagreeing with the underlying sentiment of that first ... sentence? clause? And "shemales"?! Gosh, I feel like a porn star all of a sudden!
But aside from the poor grammar and the illogic of Thomas' comment, I am mostly disturbed by the justification argument - "so that is the reason why people kill them ,". It smacks to me of earlier discussions which tended to paint trans people as prostitutes, again blaming the victim for her murder. Do you think I've been doing this whole trans thing wrong all this time? Perhaps I should be deceiving men more (I'm assuming that I do that already at some level, considering my natural tendancies and all)? It is, of course, not possible that I (or other 'transgenders') might actually be women and therefore are not deceiving anyone.
Perhaps I should abandon this ill-advised attempt to raise myself above my station in life and revert to hooking to survive? Blowjob anyone? Two bits.
One of the things we're studying in my Critical Race Theory class is something called "interest convergence." It is an argument that suggests that things in the larger culture change only when the interests of the controlling groups and the dominated groups converge. Sometimes those interests are hidden and sometimes they are obvious. And, of course, it's a theory that cuts both ways. There is no pre-set way that it must change.
This article is all about interest convergence. In this case, it seems to me that it may also be labeled as uniting against a common enemy. To protect the Holy City against the evils of homosexuality three disparate religions are joining together in an attempt to block a gay pride festival planned for Jerusalem.
Now major leaders of the three faiths - Christianity, Judaism and Islam - are making a rare show of unity to try to stop the festival. They say the event would desecrate the city and convey the erroneous impression that homosexuality is acceptable.
"They are creating a deep and terrible sorrow that is unbearable," Shlomo Amar, Israel's Sephardic chief rabbi, said yesterday at a news conference in Jerusalem attended by Israel's two chief rabbis, the patriarchs of the Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox and Armenian churches, and three senior Muslim prayer leaders. "It hurts all of the religions. We are all against it."
Abdel Aziz Bukhari, a Sufi sheik, added: "We can't permit anybody to come and make the Holy City dirty. This is very ugly and very nasty to have these people come to Jerusalem."
We are powerful, we gays. We have the ability to unite what others could not. Maybe this is what the world needs -- a common enemy to band against. I'm glad we could help. I heart religion.
I am going to try and make this my last post on divorce and sadness. No matter what I may have wished for, it is now a part of my history, a part of my past. Only I can continue to make it a part of my present and a part of my future. But that way is fraught with hopelessness and darkness and I choose differently.
I was still deep in a funk yesterday. Even people who did not know why I had missed school yesterday, people who don't read my blog (actually, quite a small perecentage of my classmates still read it -- I told you they were smarter than me!) came up to me and asked me if everything was all right; it was clear to everyone that I was in a depressed state. Many friends offered many kindnesses and though I was more grateful for their offers than they could know I quietly rebuffed them all. It seemed as if I wanted to wallow in my sadness; I would brook no human intervention.
Then a classmate, oblivious to my situation, called me and asked me to do her a favor. She would be away for a few days and she had a cat that needed looking after. Would I please do this for her?
Enter Oliver (nee Olive -- my classmate (and her vet) initially thought Oliver was female -- leave it to me to get involved with a transgendered cat). So I have this beautiful, loving cat in my apartment for the next few days. He also doesn't care about my divorce. He just wants to love up against me and purr. I will grab a photo of him and post it later. He is a sweetheart. [UPDATE: Added photo]
Life is interesting. Keep playing.
This has been around for a long time now, but I'm only just now getting around to posting my version of it. I do things in my own time, as you may have noticed. :)
bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...
Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C /
Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.
Note that I've lived in 7 states and that there are only 6 states to which I've not yet been. Maybe I'll clear those 6 (with the exception of Alaska which will have to wait a few years) this summer.
So, I went to court yesterday. We were number 2 on the docket, out of about 10 couples. The bailiff checked with us twice to determine that we were "both parties." He disappeared into the judge's chambers and a few minutes later reappeared to pick up a file folder and went back again. Finally, he reappeared, announced the judge and court was in session.
They called the first case. The couple approached the podium and the judge asked them to each produce identification and then told the rest of us to find some form of legal identification in advance of our turns. He asked some routine questions and then granted their divorce. One of the things he said, though, struck me as odd. Instead of merely saying something like "I find on the evidence that this marriage, lawfully entered into on _____, is hereby dissolved," he said "... lawfully entered into by a man and a woman ...". Then, to our surprise, he called the next case and it was not ours.
He had moved us to the bottom of the docket such that we were the last to appear. He did not mention the "man and woman" part every time, but he did at least twice again, including the couple that immediately preceded us. There were a wide range of people in divorce court yesterday. One couple had been married but 15 months, another 33 years.
Then, alone in the courtroom, it was our turn. We approached the podium, offered our IDs to the bailiff and waited. The judge did not look at us. He rifled through our file a couple of times. Finally, he looked at the driver's licenses we had given him (there were already copies of them in our file). He looked up. He commented on how well and thorough our filings and motions were completed (::takes a bow::) and finally, with a deep breath, he began.
"People may have different views on what's right and wrong, but same-sex marriage is not allowed in this state and I have no authority to act on a same-sex dissolution; yet as I look over the paperwork in front of me (holding our driver's licenses in his hand, indicating we are both female) and indeed as I trust the evidence of my eyes I see two ladies standing before me. I have no authority here," he repeated.
I interrupted him and said, "Your honor, I am a transsexual. When we were married, I was legally a male." That seemed to not even faze him. He literally kept muttering to himself that he had no authority to act on a marriage between two women. Connie spoke up and tried to repeat what I said but I shushed her (I knew the judge had heard me and I wanted to see what he was going to say or do). He asked us for evidence that we were legally married. We offered that we were married in that same county and that he should have a copy of our marriage license on file. I also offered a copy of some of my paperwork showing things such as name change so that he could see a legal, logical trail. He found the copy of the marriage license in the file. He looked at me and said "You were David Brogan?" "Yes."
To his credit, he never used pronouns with us (as he had with 100% of the previous cases). He commented that he rarely sees people with the kind of assets that we had in his courtroom and asked if we were sure that we wanted to do this without the advice of lawyers or financial advisers. Connie assured him we were. He asked the same routine questions about if any children had been produced of the marriage (he apologized for having to ask that question) and if this was what we really wanted. Connie reassured him on all counts. I stood there mostly mute, nodding imperceptibly. Finally, he turned to her and said "You seem sure of everything, but she's been pretty quiet." He turned to me and asked if I had reviewed the paperwork and was satisfied with everything. "Yes, your honor," I said, tears streaming down my face.
He signed the paperwork, pronounced our marriage dissolved. Then, he looked up at us and said, "I wish you both luck ... ladies". And that chapter was over.
It's done. I'm sad. My eyes hurt, my head hurts, my heart hurts. I'm back in Ann Arbor. Tomorrow is a new day.
[Update] I've turned off comments to this "poor me" post. Thanks for your good thoughts. Y'all know I'll be fine.
Even as Michigan moves to restrict access and rights for LGBT people, the police force in DC moves to expand it. This is a delightful story, if somewhat long, and it made it to the front page of today's Washington Post.
"Inside a Northwest apartment, a 39-year-old man has been beaten by his male partner. The victim is a lieutenant colonel who works at the Pentagon and can't show up at a military hospital with injuries caused by same-sex domestic violence without risking his career."
"They are butch, feminine, black, white, straight, gay, campy, bitchy, bourgie and fully armed. They can see, really see, what other officers cannot or will not. If what they see sometimes is the darker side of gay life, it's because they aren't spending time at Target watching gay people buy towel racks. They're on the receiving end of 911."
"His first test came early on, when five transgender people were slain in a 14-month period. Two were shot at the blighted crossroads of 50th and C streets SE, and Parson helped pull their bullet-riddled bodies from a car. The killings mobilized the District's transgender community, which faced Parson at a public meeting and demanded better police protection. He had no experience dealing with the transgendered, and his diplomacy skills needed burnishing. "The thesis of what I said was, 'What the [expletive] do I call you?' " he remembers. Now Parson is one of their chief advocates, making sure that all transgender suspects brought to the main cellblock are held separately for their safety. "
Is this the worst case of hypocrisy you've ever seen? How can this possibly be justified? Does the Hippocratic Oath apply (supersede)?
I am disgusted.
The bill allows health care workers to refuse service to anyone on moral, ethical or religious grounds.
The Republican dominated House passed the measure as dozens of Catholics looked on from the gallery. The Michigan Catholic Conference, which pushed for the bills, hosted a legislative day for Catholics on Wednesday at the state Capitol.
The bills now go the Senate, which also is controlled by Republicans.
I live in pieces
I am no longer whole
With each new love, I give a piece of me away
I never get it back
As the losses mount
Can I live in just the piece left to me
Will the fragment sustain breath
If I offer you that piece of me
Will you take the whole
Will you make me whole
Can I have just one peace
I leave tonight for a whirlwind trip to Florida; I will be gone only 20 hours (but I will miss my entire day of classes tomorrow and Tuesdays are my busiest days). I am required to go -- I have to appear (for likely 10 minutes) in divorce court. At the end of that time, I will be legally divorced.
It is impossible to put words to how I feel right now. I hate this. Does that convey enough? No. I HATE this. Do I want to be in a marriage where someone doesn't want to be with me? Do I think a person should be forced to live to their oath of unending love and commitment when they no longer feel it? No. Does that make me hate it less? No.
Tomorrow will be a sorrowful day, full of tears and what-ifs. And, there will be no solace; there will be no place and no one to turn to for comfort. It feels so much like both a failure and an ending to me. I am trying to put myself into that frame of mind that can see it, instead, as a beginning. I've live alone this past year. I've liked it. I've kept busy and it's kept my mind off of tomorrow, the day I knew (since the beginning of my summer term) was coming. But, I can't hide from tomorrow any longer.
I HATE this.
I was warned that this would happen. I didn't listen; but then, I never do.
Prior to Winter Break, I was up on all my classes, I don't think I had missed a class session and I was current with all my reading.
Now, with all my extracurricular activities, I find myself again behind in all my classes and in all my reading. I guess the one difference between this semester and the last two is that I'm not panicking in this one. I now truly understand that I will pass, regardless. What's disappointing to me, of course, is that I have to make trade-offs, sacrifices. I either learn (again) to say no and simply get involved in less things, or I accept that I won't get all the education that law school has to offer me. Merely showing up for classes and doing part of the reading is sufficient, perhaps, to pass, but it is decidedly not the way to get a quality education in the law.
So, I've revisited my decisions from the beginning of the term -- and, perhaps not surprisingly -- I've reaffirmed them. I am NOT doing as I once thought I might do in law school (study hard, treat it as an 8-6 job, do all the assigned reading (and possibly more), attend every class, get a superior law school education, etc.). Instead, I blog, and I party, I strike, I speak before the Regents, I attend Advisory Board meetings, I attend Search Committee meetings, and I try to stay active in TransForUM and in Outlaws, I bowl, I play poker, I participate in the Speakers' Bureau of the LGBT affairs office, and I even occasionally date (last night, we again dined at Amadeus where we had a magnificent meal (I had something called Bitka, I think it was) and then went to see an interesting play, written by a local playwright).
And, right now, (this blog entry notwithstanding) I'm working on a law school paper for my Critical Race Theory class. This paper is difficult, much harder than I expected it to be. I have to write an individual paper, but I'm also part of a group of 6 that have to present the history, facts, and "racial projects" inherent in the case we are doing and then lead a class discussion on the subject. It's an exciting case, but every time I think I've got a handle on it, I find another string that unravels my understanding as I pull on it. What an awesome project this is!
This seems to work for me. It gives me the balance I think I'm looking for. I don't think I could just confine myself to law school and only one or two outside interests. I came here largely because of my outside interests. So, my current plan is to keep on doing what I'm doing and let things just be how they will be.
Larry, a UM blogger over at Ding Letters, wrote about the GEO strike yesterday. I love that he has an opinion and I love that he expresses it. There are a couple of things that sadden me about the post, however. Most importantly, his opinion is woefully uninformed, and secondly, he states it as if it were fact. The second annoyance is purely personal and has taste of vindictiveness in my mouth, so I'll treat it briefly and move on to the important question. Note the following sentence, as he refers to "sex-change operations":
"Sorry, those aren't medically necessary."
Now, maybe Larry has broader experience in the area of transsexuality that he's not sharing, or has a Ph.D. in psychiatry or an M.D. that allows what I take to be an opinion of his to be stated in such matter-of-fact terms. If so, I sincerely apologize. But, for the record, let it be known that my opinion differs. Perhaps our difference of opinion lies not with our respective levels of knowledge about the subject but rather is merely definitional -- how does one define 'medical necessity'? Many, many surgeries (maybe most? I don't know) that are covered by insurance are not life threatening (which seems to be Larry's criteria) and yet are deemed to be medically necessary, some of which (I use the cleft palate example) are even correctable only through plastic surgery. Nevertheless, I would argue that gender reassignment surgery (or sex-change operation as Larry calls it) does treat a life-threatening condition. Indeed, although as a transsexual that is my opinion, it is also the opinion of the medical professionals (psychologists, psychiatrists, medical doctors and surgeons and finally even some insurance carriers) who act as the gate-keepers to such procedures. See the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association (HBIGDA) web-site.
OK, now on to a more substantive inquiry raised by Larry: Who is a woman?
Sometimes, life in the military can be overwhelming. It can be particularly difficult in the "specialty" services like Airborne, or submarines. In close knit situations like those where one's life may well depend upon another's actions and reactions under stress people develop "hazing" routines that supposedly ferret out the folks who "can't handle it."
I don't know if that's true (indeed, I pretty much doubt that it is) but I have witnessed a couple of pretty severe reactions to it.
While I was in boot camp I was in the barracks one afternoon making my bunk when I heard a yell. I looked directly to my right across the aisle to the bunk opposite mine and saw a spurt of blood arc up from this guy's wrist and onto the fresh white sheets. I was literally stupefied. I couldn't move, I wasn't sure what I had seen. In that moment, he slit his other wrist and now both wrists were pouring out blood. Thankfully, someone knocked him down, wrapped his wrists and called for help. It wasn't me -- the guy would have bled to death if he'd waited on me to help. Six weeks later, as we were marching to lunch one afternoon we saw him in line at the chow hall, wrists bandaged, and starting over. Damn.
A couple of years later, I was topside one day while we were in port (I don't even remember what country we were in) and was walking forward from the aft hatch. As I approached the topside watch (I was headed for the gangplank to leave the boat) he pulled his weapon from his holster, cocked it (I later learned that he had loaded it earlier) and with no warning, swung around, put his foot up on the gangplank and shot himself in the foot. I was about 3 feet from him at the time and, again, I froze the instant I saw him cock the weapon. This time, the loud bang of the gun going off startled me enough that I was able to step forward and take the gun from him (it was empty; he had only put the one bullet in it). He accomplished his goal and was released from submarines, although I never heard what happened to him afterward.
I didn't like boot camp, and I really didn't like my first year as a non-qual aboard the boat -- but slit my wrists, or shoot myself? Nope. Not this girl; I'm way too chicken-shit for something like that!
Next week: Drugs and alcohol
This is so odd for me. I am (or was!) a corporate executive. It seems almost antithetical for me to support a union (and I never used to!), much less walk a picket line. Conventional (read: "normal") wisdom has it that people are idealistic and liberal when they're young and struggling, but become conservative as they get older and have more to "protect" (or conserve). I guess I just live backwards.
The Graduate Employees' Organization voted last night to go on strike today -- a one day walkout, that will mark the 9th day since 1975 that the union has not shown up for work. There are several issues that the University and the Union are apart on -- despite many months of talks and negotiations and extensions. One of the issues that is near and dear to my heart is the removal of exclusions for transgender-related care from the health insurance policy (for a complete list of the issues, visit GEO's web-site). I do not think the University will move on this issue -- too much prejudice and ignorance and fear are at work. But I am completely proud of these graduate students for standing up for the rights of employees and workers and people with less access than themselves. For my thoughts on insurance and GEO related topics see these posts: here, here, here, here and here.
Today, I walk a picket line.