Some might think the casual use of certain words relating to transgender women is harmless, but these words carry incredible weight.
It was a cool night in April 1997. I was walking down Hudson Street in lower Manhattan, a couple of blocks from where the gay and lesbian community center was then. I was also scared shitless.
It was my first foray into Manhattan since I’d begun presenting as a woman full-time, and I was on my way to the center to hear trans author and activist Riki Wilchins speak. Just weeks after I’d gone full-time, I’d read Riki’s newly released book, Read My Lips: Sexual Subversion and the End of Gender, and I desperately wanted to know more. I needed to understand. I’d been gorging myself on information on what it is to be trans and what it means in the real world, but I hadn’t even begun to make any real sense out of it all. Most of what I’d read and heard just led me to more questions. This night, I hoped, would bring some answers … and it did, just not in the way I thought it would.
I was startled by a driver in a loud muscle car on the opposite side of the street who leaned out of his window. “Hey, faggot!” was all I heard about a half-second before a large alcohol bottle of some sort whizzed past my face, missing me by no more than a half an inch before smashing against the wall of the building I was walking past.
I heard the driver gun his motor, and I ran as hard and as fast as I could in the heeled boots I was still learning how to walk in. I rounded the corner of 13th Street and got about halfway to the center before I looked back and realized the driver was not pursuing me but had apparently just driven away after he’d thrown the bottle.
My heart was pounding, and I realized I was crying. I stood where I’d stopped running, sobbing and hugging myself for about 10 minutes, until the shaking stopped. As I walked the final distance to the center, I realized that I’d never been so terrified in my life.
A week later, I was in a chat room for trans women (chats and Yahoo email lists were our social media then) and I recounted what had happened. I’ll never forget what a trans woman who was much further along in transition than I was said when I’d finished the story. “You want to know what it is to be a transsexual woman? This. Get used to it.”
Truth is, the particular slur didn’t matter. In 1997 “tranny” wasn’t popularly considered to be a slur, though it was often used as one. The use of “shemale” was associated with the porn industry, and its use was seen by many trans women as the equivalent of being called a prostitute, which was seen as particularly offensive in light of the popular opinion of the time that the only reason any male-born person would dress as a woman was to entice obviously sick and perverted men to have sex with them for money.
What does matter is that my story is a very familiar one to trans women of a certain age. We came out as transgender and transsexual women at a time when we were legally protected against discrimination in very few areas of the United States, a time when it was perfectly legal and socially acceptable to deny us work, housing, and pretty much anything else just because we were trans.
We rarely reported incidents like mine to the police because it was considered a given that it was extremely unlikely the cops would do anything to help us or find our attackers but very likely that they’d find some reason to lock us up or otherwise make us regret interacting with them.
“Faggot.” “Tranny.” “Shemale.” These were the epithets we heard as the most terrifying moments of our lives were happening. In many tragic cases, they were the last words a trans woman heard before her life was brutally snuffed out. When we heard these words shouted in our direction, we knew something horrible was likely to happen next.
When trans women of my age hear these words today, we remember the fear. We remember the terror of being young, afraid, of knowing someone was out to hurt us and no one was likely to help us or even care if they did.
We’re looking for another contributer to join us here at Bisexual Books!
When Ellie and Sarah started this blog a year ago we had no idea if anyone would even care about bisexuality in literature. Well, besides us. We were grateful to bring on Evan last fall but we still want to expand!
Sadly we can’t pay you. This is a labor of love. However, you’ll be joining three kick-ass bisexuals who are passionate about the power of stories and information to improve the lives of real people.
Now down to business.
We feel like we’ve got this cis thing covered, so we’re looking for a transgender bisexual to join our motley crew. We’re using transgender as an umbrella term here so as long as you identify as trans in some way, that is good enough for us.
What else are we looking for? You must:
- Be a reader, i.e. you must read a lot. You self-define what this means.
- Have the time to put up one review or analysis of at least 3 paragraphs once a week or more
- Have time to add cool things of interest to the queue a couple times a week
- Speak and write in fluent English
- Be over 18 (since we review erotica here)
Some things would be neat but not required:
- If you regularly read adult fiction (especially science fiction, fantasy, and literary fiction)
- If you read in another language than English
- Members of historically disadvantaged communities encouraged.
Interested parties should email us at firstname.lastname@example.org Tell us a little bit about yourself including your age, location, and preferred pronouns along with a writing sample. This could be a review of a book, or an analysis of something relating to bisexuality. Anything you’d like. We want something that tells us who you are and why you are awesome :)
New deadline is April 30th.
Please help us share this as widely as you can
Following a school board meeting convened because due to complaints from parents about her gender identity, a transgender teacher has been reinstated.
After one parent complained, the school told a substitute teacher to not return as she was a ‘distraction’ in the classroom
MASPETH, Queens (PIX11) – A New York high school senior said her private school is barring her from taking her transgender boyfriend to prom.
“Everybody should be able to go,” said Anais Celini, a senior at Martin Luther High School in Maspeth, Queens. “It’s something that everybody should be able to have those memories of and talk about years later.”
Celini is dating Nathaniel Baez, who is transgender and currently going through transition. The teen said she’s heartbroken because she can’t do what she’s always dreamed of doing: taking her love to the senior prom.
“The school said to me that his transition is unconventional and it’s not what he feels beneficial to letting him come to prom,” Celini told PIX11 News exclusively.
Baez said he feels bad for his girlfriend.
“It’s hard because I really wanted her to be able to go to prom with her friends and me, as well,” Baez said. “It is one of the stepping stones in high school.”
PIX11 News reached out to the school several times, and was told by an administrator that based on student privacy, the school declined to comment.
The couple is hoping for a change of heart, but they’re not optimistic.
“I don’t think they’re going to say yes anymore,” Celini said, adding that she won’t ask the school again for permission to take Baez as her date.
Baez said even if they’re barred from the May 22 dance, he will plan his own private prom weekend for his girlfriend.