Innappropriate Questions

This past weekend I attended a party. This on it's own isn't newsworthy. Considering the rural nature of my living situation I get to my fair share of shakedowns. This one was in a barn in the country, but it was also a surgery fundraiser for a new friends' SRS. I feel real lucky to have found the scenic rural valley that is chock full of witches and trans folks and other radicals of all sorts. It seems to fit so well. I know that there is place where the country boned queers and friends can still find community amongst the coyotes and ravens.

One of the features of this party was it's theme. It was advertised as a gender blender and folks were encouraged to bust out the glam and drag for a proper hoe down. This was appealing and terrifying to me as someone who blends gender and lives most everyday in a state of drag. Would I feel at the butt of someones joke? Would I be misunderstood? Would I be one of few trans people amongst a hoard of cisgendered folks thinking that they understand transness because they put on a dress for the night? I was unsure if I would attend until I confirmed that I could arrive in style with another local trans person. She is friends with the benefactee of the party and tried to assure me it would be a good time. I was pretty sure it would be, knowing a couple of the DJs and having attended parties at this place in the past.

We arrived early and found our selves through the space. The barn loft dance floor had been beautifully decorated in a manner that was very reflective of the cause, flowing red and pink fabrics, fastened along the peak of the roof and draping down labially. Eventually the party started to fill up and each of the 5 or so out trans folks at the party along with a couple friends and partners took turns collecting cash at the door. The party turned a decent profit, but that is not really what this whole post is getting to.

Alfred Kinsey said that what he found from his research was that approximately 10 percent of people are 100% straight, fully woman identified women who are attracted solely to 100% man identified men and vice versa. 10% of people fell at the other end of his 6 point scale, being 100% gay. I would like to propose that this scale and perception of the human population could also be applied to displays of rude ignorance. There were a couple people doing a really good job of saying inappropriate things, a couple people calling them out, holding ground or otherwise dealing, and then the other 80% of people were somewhere in the middle. Not offensive, but maybe also not even noticing. For those 80% I write this. For those of you who aren't doing the work of noticing and addressing this sort of thing, or maybe you notice, but you use your passing privilege to let it be someone else's struggle. Because those who are doing the standing up, well we know. And that other 10%, I don't have the time or energy to devote any of my free time to attempting to educate you anymore than I already do. And did last weekend.

longest intro... but here we go....
I was standing out by the fire when a woman complimented my facial hair. I have 2 little tufts that grow long from my chin. I responded, thanking her.
Upon hearing my voice she retracted her complement by saying, "oh, I thought you were a girl dressed up as a boy."
I responded, "no, I'm neither, dressed up as neither"
She continues, "oh!? are you a hermaphrodite?"
I glare at her and tell her that she is being rude and that word is probably not one she should use. I give her the term intersex and briefly explain the relationship between intersex people, identities and medicalization that has led the H word to fall from favour. *already more than she deserved, but I allowed myself to turn on my educator brain, thinking that it would be a part of my contribution to the cause we were raising funds and awareness around. If people were going to attend a SRS surgery fundraiser a little bit of trans education may be in their best interest to prevent hurting or offending someone else. I stepped up to the plate and turned on my teacher hat.
She listens. Scoffs and mutters something along the lines of, "oh well, how ever is anyone supposed to keep up with all of this people changing words and stuff anyway." then turns to me and asks, "so are you intersex then?"
I retort by asking the measurements and dimensions of her clit and labia.
She finds this offensive. HA! And tries to argue that that is totally different.
I inform her that it isn't. I give her a brief run down of the wide spectrum of intersex conditions, some that display visible at birth, some that show up at puberty, and some that never do. I explain the criteria that would lead to an intersex diagnosis at birth, namely the size/shape/appearance of ones genitals. So, not in fact that different than asking a woman the size of her clit, would be asking someone if they are intersex.
She pushed on, demanding that there must be some polite way to ask. I ensured her that there wasn't. That asking about the size, shape, surgical status or reproductive viability of someone's genitals is and always will be inappropriate.
I proceeded to give her definitions to the terms trans*, transsexual (the identity, not the orientation, she wasn't ready for that), and transgender. I gave her a piece of advice around asking about someones' pronoun preference and told her that if she stuck to that as her invasive question that she may find her self being trusted and respected more than with her original attempt.
She said that being at a gender bender party was confusing for her because she didn't know where the men were or who she should be attracted to. I didn't even go there. I hope that maybe later, if she remembers any part of that conversation she might realize that was a moment of acknowledging her privilege. A moment where she was given a lot of patient attention from someone who could've just told her to fuck off and suck my clit, for whom the world contains that type of confusion EVERY DAY. Who may be attracted to a neither, dressing as a neither? Will it be gay men? Dykes? straight people (not to mention the self identity crisis processing that can come with that)? pre-post-non op trans people? Who am I "supposed" to be attracted to? And what does that even mean in a world that may not have words, let alone understanding or compassion for me?
So for the 80% of you in the middle. Maybe you are unaware. Or unsure of what you could do. Maybe you hear these conversations happening and they make you feel uncomfortable too. I ask you this. Next time you see or hear this type of thing going on, try to make eye contact with me, or the person playing the role of me in this scenario. If it seems at all reasonable, chime in, suggest some alternate routes that people can take to learning this stuff that doesn't involve pulling the people who live in the position of the oppressed to educate their oppressors. Maybe after this has happened you wanna try and track me down and check in, give appreciations, or offer a hug or a smoke. Or maybe you want to throw together a little circle of people working in solidarity, people striving to being allies. You could process this shit with each other and it would take a big weight off of folks who would really just need to dance without having to worry about this.

Man on the Street

This past weekend I put on a very pretty summer dress and went out to a local rad queer dance party. I was with a bunch of friends and I felt gorgeous inside, "fancy fancy" and appreciated. At one point I had to leave the party and return to my car. I then was making my way back from the car, to the event venue, one long block away. I walked onto the sidewalk and found myself almost matched in step with a man I had never seen before. He may have appeared much as I do on most days, mid twenties, white man walking alone along the street at night. I walked faster, not looking back and not losing step. I was very aware of his presence and attempted to walk faster, making my way to the safety of the crowd of smoking queers at the opposite end of the block. The man said, "excuse me...?" and I picked up my pace. I didn't know what he wanted, but as I was bearded and in a dress I could only assume that it wasn't a compliment. I increased pace once again when he said again, "excuse me, do you have the time?" I felt intimidated, potentially in danger and wasn't about to open my purse and get mugged for my phone. This has happened before, while in street "boy clothes". I forged forward and made it to the party without interacting with the man, except a simple "no."

I don't know if this fellow had any idea how intimidating it was for him to approach a lady, or trans person in a dress, on the dark street. Perhaps he hadn't thought about that. Or perhaps he was reading me as a man and didn't see it as intimidating. This is something that I feel very aware of, perhaps it's female socialization, growing up carrying keys between the knuckles and staying on well lit streets, or perhaps it's my existance within survivor communities. Perhaps he's never had to think about how scary he appears, not because of himself, but because of the violence that exists towards femmes, ladies, sex workers, trans women, genderqueers, and others for whom alone in the night can be or has been a scary scary place.

But the dark dark night is not always scary, and living in a gender queer existence is not a consistent feeling of vulnerability. In fact, when all the cards line up right, it can be damn right empowered. About half an hour after my first interaction with a man on the side walk I had a second. This time I was not alone, I was walking out of the party accompanied by a good friend, also gender queer presenting in a cute summer dress. As the two of us walked out, me: bearded and dolled up, friend: fresh faced from laser treatment and broad shouldered. A man who'd walked across from the corner store to small talk the door man- apparently a familiar of some sort, felt entitled to comment.

"Hey, that's no woman", he exclaimed.

Initially we both continued walking, sort of looked at the ground and barely at each other. But I became aware of the support I was surrounded with and so responded to his rude and out of place comment, first just asking him who he was talking to. I had hoped that his being forced to face the fact that he was talking about a person, in front of that person, and that person could hold their own, and could hear what he was saying so he'd better shut it.

"Well both of you I guess." he said.

I politely asked him if he knew where he was. He had no idea. I very clearly told him, and by this point I had 4 super tough friends flanking me from all sides, and a couple allies who appeared out of the crowds of smokers to hold the space, "you are outside of a very queer party, filled with all kinds of very queer people, lots with really queer genders, and if you feel entitled to tell any one of us who we are, how we can dress or what gender we can be... well you'll probably get your ass kicked. So you should go." I didn't really want to implicate a threat of physical violence, it's not my favourite, but sometimes just reminding people who don't live in fear of getting hurt, that it could happen to them this time- well it can feel good. Even as a most of the time pacifist, I get the bash-back philosophy. He became apologetic, and tried to call it a learning experience, stating that he was ignorant and wanted to learn something from us. I reminded/informed (maybe he's never heard it before) him that it's not our job as queers to teach him about how to treat us. It's not our job as trans people to teach him how to respect diverse genders. And if he really gave a shit he could go online or to the library, the internet and books are teaching resources, not people who you are harassing outside of a dance party. A party organizer showed up, and offered assistance while also commending what he'd seen, saying that it seemed that I was handling it all really well. I was so glad to have had the backing of my friends, I was so glad to know that the organizers prioritize and address these things as real live issues. Some of us live in fear, some of us less so, or less so at certain times. If we can create spaces where less people live in less fear, more of the time, where more people have more voice and less bullshit like this happens, we win. That's what community is. That's what safe space is. That's what solidarity is. That's what survival, resilience, and prosperity are.

Creating Safe Spaces- proactive vs. reactive

(Trigger warning: sexual assault)
This weekend I returned to my hometown of Victoria for one of my favorite holidays of the year. A bunch of my friends and other bicycle enthusiasts organize the bike riders ball (bikeprom.ca). It is an event centered around the love of bicycles. People always go all out, decorating themselves and all types of bicycle related machines to ride through the city and dance late into the night. The VeloVixens perform and a good time is had all around.

This year, leading up to the event I heard about a discussion that was happening within the organizing body. I couple of organizers were advocating for safe space policy to be put into action, recognizing that proactive work needs to happen to create the space that is safe enough for all of our friends to feel welcome and safe. This was challenged by others who had never done such work, and I'm assuming, have never felt unsafe or oppressed in "community". I don't know what that conversation or process looked like. I have only heard about through the grapevine, and saw what actually made its way to the party.

I got myself all done up for the event. I rebuilt my bike, after 6 months since I was hit by a car while riding it, it's undergone a full rebuild. I am still not able to ride a whole lot without knee pain, but I wanted to show up on a bike, and show off my sweet new ride. I found a pretty white dress with rhinestone strapless neckline, my friends help me sew in a bike tube corset back into it to make up for my extra large ribcage. I had big hair, a flashing tiara, make up and of course full beard and entirely practical shoes. I felt hot. I was hot. I got ready with a bunch of friends and rode down to the party.

Not 10 minutes after walking in a complete stranger walked up to me, to tell me that she was "glad I was comfortable with my facial hair." I can only assume that she was trying to compliment the beard and dress combo, but no matter which way that wording is analyzed it comes off as backhanded and patronizing. It sort of set me off, but I didn't do to much with it. I was having a great time. Dancing, catching up with old friends, getting my hair crimped by strangers in the coat check. Having a gay old time. Until some man, a complete stranger, came up to me on the dance floor and grabbed my tit. I can't even begin to think of what his motives were, but my immediate reaction was to remove his hand, with the force necessary, and VERY strongly tell him that he was out of line. The more I tried to communicate with him the unacceptability of his actions the less he seemed affected. He stood where he was as I told him that he would need to leave.He apologized for offending me, and I told him that I wasn't asking for his apology, he hadn't offended me he'd assaulted me, and that I needed him to go, not apologize. Too late for words. By this point I was fucking raging, yelling in his face and telling him that he needed to get the fuck out. He quite clearly wasn't listening to me, he didn't respect me from the beginning, but I hoped that my clear needs (you: leave, get your shit and don't come back) would go somewhere. It didn't. I had backers, people stepped in, echoing the need for him to leave. I walked away from the situation and went to the front door of the party. I asked the ticket takers if there was security working the party, there was not, as this party was "friends getting together in 'safe space'" One of the door people stepped up and listened to what was happening and joined me back over to the dude who was still standing there with the first people who had stepped in. He wasn't listening to the first masculine appearing person in a dress, or the tough quebecois farmer queer, but maybe he'd listen to a slightly larger guy in a red dress. Luckily the door volunteer was committed to seeing the guy out. He walked with him to get his bag and escorted him out. Another guy who stepped in came to me after to tell me that, although this was not an excuse, it seemed as if this guy had no idea that what he'd done was assault. No idea that grabbing someone's body in that type of way without consent was unacceptable. I don't know what rock this guy's been living under, but it was time for him to learn. I hope that this experience was lesson learned for him, I hope that he gets a better idea about how to interact with other people in a respectful way. I hope that this doesn't happen again, to someone who didn't feel that they had the backing to stand up the way I did. If the party wasn't organized by friends of mine I may not have done that. If I wasn't able to look around and know that I had a whole load of people backing me, I may have kept quiet. If I had been drinking I may have brushed it off.

The fact that this guy didn't know is a problem. Trying to create safe spaces with people who are ignorant to the basic needs of safety for the people in the space they share is an uphill battle. I believe that creating a safe space requires a proactive stance around accountability. I was glad to see this poster on the door of the venue. I wish that it had been on the posters, on the website promo, on the facebook event. I wish that there was more of an opportunity for education for guys like this who "don't know" how to interact with other people respectfully, to learn what that means, and know that they will be held accountable. This conversation NEEDS to be ongoing. It NEEDS to be at the forefront of event organizing and promotion. Because if it isn't, the default is douchbaggery. Ignorance, discrimination, assault, rape, violence and hate are so prevalent in our society that they are the default. Creating safe spaces involves taking those things apart and PHYSICALLY creating spaces which are based around respect, inclusion, access, safety, fun and community.

I am very grateful for all of the backing that I had at the party. I am incredibly appreciative of every person who stood up to this predator and put him in his place. I am so thankful for my friends, who give me the confidence that when I am violated I won't be standing up or fighting back alone. Now I'd like to see how this translates into the organizing strategies of my community. It's not over.