Transgender Day of Rememberance

Tonight I went to an event at University of North Florida campus. My frist Transgender Day of Rememberance (TDOR).

Jacksonville Florida has had the most murders in one city this year. Four trans women have been killed here out of the 28 total in the country.

Whenever I would come to Jacksonville I would search on the internet "Jacksonville Transgender" to find out what kinds of organizations exist where I might be able to volunteer. This time, the search results were filled with news outlets reporting on these murders. I was appauled and disheartened. I met many trans people in this city.

I found myself wondering how they might feel living in this area. I imagined all the closet trans folk feeling even more sure of their decision to stay in the closet. I felt even more anger propelling me towards doing something meaningful to give back.

At the event, I was lucky to sit next to a dear friend I met a year and a half ago. Our few interactions have really struck my heart. Sitting, listening to the stories and names, watching the candle burn, I was surprised by which emotion I had. It was sadness, it was anger and frustration. I hated this event even has to take place. I hated how hard it was for us all to sit there but of course we had to.

I wanted to get up and speak. I had the opportunity. And I could not. That is okay. I felt fear about what to say, what would be "right" to say. I enjoyed thinking about how I felt reacting to the other speakers, and trying to find something meaninful to say at an event like this should I get another chance in the future.

Changing Worlds

We all know the stories of hate. We know how the fearful see us. We know what the bigoted think of us. We know what the world looks like through their eyes. Many of us may have been one of them in the past, before we learned, before we had someone in our life expand our understanding, before we came to terms with ourselves.

As far as we have come in this culture, we are still battling those views, those lives. We are still horrified by how some think. We are frightened by how some act. We feel dejected by our inability to exact change.

I have seen this many times over. A beautiful egg hatches and a trans person must come to terms with being the object of all this hate. This realization crushes you. I have seen many who never climb back up after accepting this. They sit in fear at home afraid of the world.

We also know the other stories too. The stories of light and love. The reality where gender expression is no longer policed. Where we look beyond our fleshy skin bags and see the soul bursting outward. Where we no longer assume the strict, rigid, gender roles of the past, and respect each other through curiosity and acceptance. Where being transgender, non-binary, or intersex is not bad, nor good, where it is just is. Where being sexual, asexual, or somewhere in the middle is understood and respected. Where we can all lead the life we want to without others demanding we conform to expectations of outcome. Where we can accept how we are different from cis people without disrespecting either of us. Where we can love ourselves for our courage, our heart, and our imperfections.

We may know that friend. The one who took hold of this hopeful, positive, joyous reality and never lets go despite the hate around us. We love them for the risk they take. We love them for how they inspire us to be authentically who we are. We love them for bringing this other reality into the world.

If we are to move forward in our culture. If we are to dissolve hate. If we are to make reality different for all of us. We must be brave enough to let go of the reality we think we know and grasp tightly to the reality we want to be. We cannot force people to leave their reality when we live in it too. We must first step into this new reality and make a home there. Take those daring steps into the dark and fill it with your light. Once there we can stretch out a hand and see who takes hold.