You Got Your Safety in My Privilege

You Got Your Privilege in My Safety!

* Nota Bene: It should be noted that some of the topics herein could be triggering.  I apologize in advance and hope if there is a way I can speak about these things without being triggering, that someone would try to help me *

So, TSA. Full Body Scanners.  Gratuitous pat downs.  Mmmm.

  A dear friend of mine was given a forum to express their opinion of the new regulations at the airports.  A very public forum where they were honest, well spoken and concise.  They had a good point too. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about.

And on the surface, that’s all that should matter, yeah?  It could be cut and dried and black and white.  Now, before I continue with my side, I need to refresh myself on something…Nevermind, my internet guru is apparently busy and I can only find blogs.

Here’s what I remember about the TSA body scans, from what I saw prior to today.  I remember being able to clearly define what secondary sex characteristics the individual possessed, and making internalized assessments of the gender of the subject.  I’m not proud that I did that, it may be gross and uncalled for, but I did.  I remember having a conversation about the scanners a few years ago, when they were just a baby idea.  They scared me then.  I remember thinking, “these things see through binders and can tell if things are or are not attached.  Shit.”

So, here’s the greying of the issue.  There are many, many different types of people who will not want to subject themselves to either a full body scan, in which their specific parts can be seen, or to a gratuitous pat down (my words.)

Here’s why I wouldn’t do either:  I… am a transman.  Shocking, I know.  Well, some of you might not know that yet.  So that means, for me, that there is a specific way I need my body viewed, touched, appreciated, interacted with and treated.  It’s not even a want anymore.  If my body is treated incongruously to who I am, I get dysphoric.  Being dysphoric when I’m alone and traveling is a Really Bad Idea.  So, let’s say I forego the scanner right off, no questions asked.  Then I’m left with the gratuitous pat down.  They say they pair you up with a TSA worker of the same gender.  Does this mean presenting gender?  Because then I get a man.  A man who will be worried about the eventual harassment suit when he feels the incongruity of my body to my presentation, not to mention he’d likely get bumbly-fumbly and awkward.  And then I’d be humilated.  So, a woman?  Then we’re back to me being treated incongurous to my being and dysphoria ensues.  A genderqueer transman?  Okay, I admit, if they had one of those, I’d gladly go through with a gratuitous pat down, we get to reciprocate, right? ;-P

Consider also those of us who move about the world as survivors of assault and rape.  Sure, many survivors manage to move about in the world without concern, but those who don’t still have to travel.  They might be comfortable with a full body scan, but I know I wouldn’t.  Even if I identified with my doctor-assigned sex/gender, I’d still be a survivor.  I’d still look like I do, and I’d still be really, really, REALLY skittish being seen less than fully clothed by anyone, partners included.  Again, even if I identified with my doctor-assigned sex/gender, I would not want a stranger’s hands on places I don’t like many people to even think about.  It’s scary, demeaning and humiliating. And not even in the fun way.

Should the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many?  It’s been suggested that people who don’t like the new regulations should use other modes of transportation to get from point A to point B: buses and trains.  These are infinitely more time consuming, even if they are cheaper and do have less strenuous security measures.  A trip that should take a few hours either way would take several days, days people working paycheck to paycheck cannot afford to waste sitting in a train or on a bus. 

Will the new TSA regulations make the airways safer to travel?  Perhaps.  But, if the general public, of America mind, is this terrified of air travel, why do they keep doing it?  Oh, for the same reasons gender variant people, transpeople, survivors and many MANY others want to continue doing it?  For the shorter travel time?  Well, gosh darn it, if they’re so afraid, they should just take the train or the bus.  Then they’ll be safe from the big bad sky bullies.

In all seriousness, I respect the other side of this argument.  Airplanes should be safer.  I don’t think this makes them safer, I think this makes us more scared. 

We already have to fear bombs, people with box cutters, people with liquids, people with forks and knives and spoons, people with food, people wearing shoes, people wearing baggy clothing, leaving our bags unattended, seeing a bag left unattended, airplane toilets (they’re loud and make wooshing noises!!!), pilots falling asleep, pilots drinking before flying, pilots getting lost, pilots crash landing, the plane getting delayed, our connecting flight taking off without us, forgetting our birthday and having our ID called into question, being read as the wrong gender, losing our valuables, losing cabin pressure, forgetting who gets the air mask first–you or the kid, bailing out over water, flying into a building, sick people, loud people, not being able to sleep, bad inflight movies, kids kicking the back of our seat and crying babies. 

Now I have to be afraid of my naked image ending up on the internet and/ or someone playing grab ass while they look for a weapon I never possessed in the first place?  People, this is why I drive everywhere I can.

Still gonna fly, even if I can’t be a plane anymore–

Superman

I believe

I am a unique, respectable, kinky, queer, sad, stubborn, intelligent, gentlemanly, responsible, mature, immature, ignorant, knowing, learned, ever-changing person.

Sometimes I am not.

Sometimes, I am not counted as a person.

Sometimes, I am othered in spaces where I should be safe, where I am entitled to safety regardless of anything else.

Sometimes, I have no one but myself to protect me from those who would do me no harm, but that their ignorance prevents them from doing me any good.

Sometimes I do harm to those to whom I would do no harm, but that my ignorance prevents me from doing them any good. I apologize.

Sometimes, I am: petty, cruel, mistaken, incensed, older than my years, ignorant, wise, rude, loud, quiet, impossible, immovable, steadfast, annoying, loving, and hateful.

Sometimes, I have emotions inexplicable to the world and to myself.

I will strive to understand my emotions and embrace them and validate them for what they are.

I believe I will solve nothing by ignoring my emotions, by denying my emotions, by invalidating my emotions as unimportant in the face of anything else.

I believe my right to express these emotions is as unalienable as absolutely any other right I possess.

I believe I will become a better person for my emotions; both for having and expressing them.

I believe my only failing is in harming myself or others through my expression of my emotions.

I do not see businesses, for or non for profit, as either myself or others.

I am judge and jury of myself, until such a time as I find another, more qualified entity.

I have beliefs, convictions, emotions, opinions, thoughts, hopes, dreams, desires, needs, ambitions and passions; all of these are good, all of these are personal.

I believe all people are people regardless of my personal views of them.

I believe -isms, jokes that hurt intentionally or not, stereotypes, “common misconceptions,” perceived privileges, oppression, entitlement, “preconceived notions,” assumptions, binaries, social constructs, “societal norms,” and the idea that people are not to be taken at their word are harmful concepts and need to be killed with fire.

I believe censorship is death.

I will not fear censorship of myself, my beliefs nor of my emotions.

I will do direct battle with censorship at every turn.

I will emerge victorious or not at all, my convictions, my self, and my beliefs intact.

I believe in common sense and in tact.

I believe in saying things that are seemingly nonsensical and tactless if they are the things that need to be said.

I believe doing things right means doing things myself.

I believe in asking for help when necessary.

I believe in the future, in its inevitability and in the youth who will command its course.

I believe in a future where all can live unmolested, doing as they will so long as they do no harm.

I believe those we would entrust the future to are apathetic and underestimated.

I believe apathy is death.

I will do direct battle with apathy at every turn.

I will emerge victorious or not at all, my convictions, my self and my beliefs intact.

I believe to combat apathy our future must understand the consequences of inaction.

I believe in giving everyone just enough rope with which to hang themselves. Metaphorically.

I believe in self-determination and will, passion and urgency.

I believe in action, in not sitting back and waiting.

I believe in being constructive, unless deconstruction is more useful.

I believe in telling it like it is, and that people deserve and desire the truth.

I believe people deserve the benefit of the doubt.

I believe there is a limit to the doubt from which one can receive benefit.

I believe hierarchies should be smashed.

I believe in questioning all authority, including myself if I am in a position of power.

I believe authority will grow lax and useless without constant questioning and adjustment.

I believe when authority has outgrown its usefulness, or proves inherently untrustworthy or corrupt, it is time to relieve said authority of its duty and power by whatever means necessary.

I believe I am who I am, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer until unto death I do depart.

I believe in so much more.

Hm

So, I got this blog a few hours ago, and I can’t seem to stop writing SOMETHING in it.

But I finally remembered what I’d been wanting to write.  I wanted to write about the idea of “women and trans only” spaces.  I don’t feel welcome there, and I don’t feel comfortable there.  I’m glad some people do, but I guess…I don’t want to be constantly reminded I’m only allowed into the space because I belong because I’m not a M. A. N.

There was a co-op looking for new inhabitants a while back, and I was all excited because I’d LOVE to live in a co-op.  They sound like my kind of place.  But, they said “our co-op is not currently looking for cis-males [paraphrasing mine] to live with us at this time.” Or something to that effect. Basically, no biomen. Or cisgender/sexual men. Or men with a penis from birth. Or men …Idk. Anyway, it’d never occurred to me that this could be an issue, but it was.  The idea that there was one type of person they were reluctant to house was very off-putting.  And sure, the solution was to not apply to live there, but it still worried me.  Wouldn’t they have been upset if the listing said “no currently looking for transmen/women/cis-women to live with us”?  …I feel like they would have been up in arms that there was somewhere they couldn’t live.  I’m not saying cismales are a minority by any means, I’m just saying that the only way to have equality is to be e q u a l.

Again, until I figure out how to fix this, my easy solution is to just not live places I don’t feel comfortable:)

As I told the queen,

I’m fucking Superman

Is It like “If you see Buddah on the road, kill him”?

Water holds all the answers; all the answers hold water. What is the answer?

Shakey Morals

I was invited to be a performer for a benefit show Sunday night. (My nights and days are all fucked up, so I feel it’s pertinent to say which day of the week it was and what portion of said day things happened during…This will probably NOT be a trend.)

NOTE TO BENEFIT ORGANIZERS:  For the love of all that is queer, give guidelines to your performers or warnings to your audience.

I write in a variety of ways, all fueled by the emotions I feel toward the topics of my pieces.  My favorite piece to perform can be offensive, rude and obscene.  Kinda.  I’ll perform it any chance I get.  So this benefit show seemed like the perfect place to offend some HRC fags. I get there, decked out in my new Queer as Fuck (or not at all) gear, and all seems well.  College campus, some people I know, many I don’t and…Oh fuck, a kid.  Just one, but she’s like four and reminds me of another baby girl.  Anyway, I find myself in a quandry, not knowing whether it’s better to compromise my morals or my art. It sucked, because normally I’m all “Carve a fucking space for the strange, weird, unusual and scary.”

Anyway, for me at least, the show sucked.  I ended up doing a piece that’s really quite personal, but doesn’t have any objectional words (just content.)  Then I wussed out on the second piece and just watched the drag.

What I’m trying to say is:  THERE ARE NO QUEERS HERE.  HRC fags, gays, sure.  Lots of those.  Queers?  People in my genre?  Nuh to the uh.  I’m so tired of living in HRC fag world where I have to police myself so I don’t offend the exact people I set out to offend in the first place.  My morals are shakey at best, but I’m not going to cuss in front of a kid I don’t know.  And I’m not really interested in just offending people, without creating some solidarity for my fellow queers.

As I told the queen,

I’m fucking Superman.