Category: GLBT

I’m tired…in more ways than one.  The end of a long academic year contributes a great deal to that.  Recent illness certainly has added to it.  And just being old certainly has to be acknowledged.

But nothing seems to do more than having fruitless conversations with people who just don’t get it.

It’s really old and extremely tiring to have people say things to our political detriment and then say that if we complain, we are overly sensitive.  It’s frustrating to have to ask people not to use our identity as a weapon, with the assumption that accusing someone of being one of us is degrading to that person.  It’s depressing to have our identity used as the basis of unfunny jokes…and then be told, should we ask that it not be done, that we have no sense of humor.

So tired.

I even ended up too tired to write much about all that.  Too tired and not in the mood for more idiots who wants to defend their behavior.

So instead of doing so, I looked for some GLBT news.  I found some of the good variety and some of the bad.  The world changes slowly…oh, so very slowly.

Would it matter to you if the nominee to the Supreme Court which President Obama is going to shortly pick were openly gay or lesbian? The Dog is going to assume his readers are liberal and would care less about a Justices sexual orientation than about her or his views on the law. After all, we don’t seem to care the current Justices are all heterosexual so what difference should it make, right?

You may have heard about it by now.  Or maybe not.  There haven’t exactly been that many news stories about it.

On Wednesday, April 22, Allen Andrade was convicted of the bias crime murder of Angie Zapata, which occurred in July of last year, as well as the theft of a car and a credit card.  He received the mandatory sentence of life without parole.

I wrote about the trial last week, while it was still going on.  You can read that here if you are so inclined.

I wish I could say I felt some degree of satisfaction about this.  But I don’t.  Surrounding the trial has been so much lack of communication and absence of understanding that I feel like going into my room and never emerging again.

Non-transsexual people are, in some cases, trying to be helpful with what they are trying to share.  Most often what I have read has fallen short of that mark.

My first impulse was to write about the fact that today was the National Day of Silence, which was first observed at the University of Virginia in 1996 and has been sponsored by GLSEN (the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Educational Network) since 2000.  If you feel like helping them out, I am sure everyone would be thankful.

But something else has been happening this week as well, out in Colorado.  And this thing, a trial in the murder of a young transwoman, demands words, not silence.  It has my focus, my attention.

Will it grab yours?

Also posted on Daily Kos. I figured I would share here, too.

First, I know that I am preaching to the proverbial choir on this. Please comment, but this diary is as much for lurkers, trolls, and freepers as it is for this community.

Second, I am an entrenched GLBT ally. I have no direct and solely personal interest in same sex marriage, but I have family, friends, and online friends who are. That’s more than enough for me to get involved.

Third, and this will come as the shocker of the week, but it turns out that the National Organization for Marriage is a bunch of liars.

Fourth, I haven’t gone off on a good rant in a while and I don’t have a date this Friday evening (or most Friday evenings for that matter). So this is my outlet for righteous indignation.

Fifth: I am the sort of person who reads methodology sections in academic papers. I actually enjoy this sort of thing.

Recently I’ve read several essays gloating about the death of the anti-gay forces.  I understand the urge to do that gloating, but I’d like to caution people that a longer view is useful.  We have, in fact, won very little thus far.

And that ugly beast may be mortally wounded, but it is still quite dangerous.  Declaring victory too soon is also dangerous, if it means people stop working towards equality.

Perhaps a look at where we have come from and what we have accomplished so far is in order.  Enclosed within is a little amateur history of the movement for GLBT rights.

It was supposed to be Gay Pride Week here on campus.  Everything has conspired to screw that up, not the least of which were apathy and poor organizational ability by the volunteer coordinators of the event, including yours truly.

But I did write a speech and I don’t want to waste it.  You’ll find it on the other side, embellished with whatever doo-dads I can think of, find, or create.

It’s that time of year again.  Next week is Gay Pride Week on campus here at Bloomfield College.  Sometimes it is a little earlier, but usually it is a little later.  But the second week of April includes Easter Break, so it was now or never.

I’d love it if it were a time of joy.  But I often find it to be rather depressing.  I’ve been one of the co-coordinators of the Gay/NonGay Alliance since I got a full-time job here in 2001.  I wish I could say it has been rewarding.

The truth is that it has all been an uphill journey.  No matter which direction one looks, it is uphill.

As usual as Friday approaches, I start panicking because I haven’t a clue what to write about.  That especially happens around midterm as we crawl towards Spring Break.  On more week before refreshing can commence.

It is often the case, however, that events provide an idea.  This one crystalized with plf515‘s morning offering, WGLB presents: Stereotype.

In my mind I teamed this together with several other recent events, listed after the fold, and the idea of writing about teaching against stereotypes arose.  I’m hoping to generate some helpers, both in the here and now and to pick up the burden after I die.

Stereotypes are ubiquitous.  I battle them consistently.  All my political battles, not just for GLBT rights, but also for Native American rights, against the English-only doofi, for the poor and downtrodden, against racism and religious and ethnic discrimination, for the equality of women, against bullying…and so many, many more, all have at their root the battle against stereotypes.

Be aware that if you choose this path, you will be called sanctimonious, self-absorbed, self-important, thin-skinned fascist against freedom of speech.

If that’s the price to be paid, so be it.

I’ve made no secret lately that I was going to appear in Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues, as Woman #1 (Calpernia Addams) in the…well it is not exactly a monologue, but rather a chorus…They Beat the Girl Out of My Boy…Or So They Tried.

The two-night run at Bloomfield College’s Van Fossan Theater is now over and I am exhausted and have a splitting headache from interacting with the stage lights.  I’m tired and I’m cranky.

Word on the street was that the event was not to be missed.  But then again, each night only had about 120-140 in the audience.

Part of the proceeds went to help combat the systematic maltreatment of women (and men) in the Democratic Republic of Congo in the quest for blood coltan, in what has become known as The Playstation War.  The remainder went to the The Safe House Shelter for battered women, which is affiliated with Clara Maass Hospital.

Affiliated with our production was a teach-in on the DRC and a Clotheline Project in March.

And one more presentation, which is the main purpose of this essay, against the backdrop of these other educational efforts.

Debbie and I were informed about a week ago that our doctor was changing locations, leaving the Family Health Center in Montclair for another practice a half hour away.  We are left with the decision of whether to follow her or keep going to the Family Health Center.

For me, that’s not as straightforward a decision as it would be for most people.

Treatment by medical personnel, doctors, nurses and office staff can be a critical issue or transfolk.

Of course, I can only speak for myself and my experience should not be deemed universal.  That could be the point…or at least one of them.

Sometimes it all seems futile.  I teach and teach and teach, wondering if one day, even some day soon, I will get the opportunity to talk about the things which really matter, about the way the world is and how to make it better for some of us who could use the improvement.

Then I run into someone who puts me back to square one, wondering if anything I have taught has survived…or how many other people are out there who feel the same way as the culprit.

So what do I do?  Go back to the beginning and start anew?  Maybe with some variation on the theme?  

What else is there?