All for a Pair of Bogs

I recently ordered a pair of Bogs, which if you're unmotivated to click the link are heavy-duty rainboots. They're also kind a a status symbol here in the PNW, something you flash to show how hardcore you are in the face of all of this rain/mist/drizzle.  And for those prices, they'd damn well better be....

Anyhow, they arrived and were beautiful and amazing and a little too small. I wear a European size 42.5--because the Euro sizes are static; US sizes have a tendency to vary based on shoe companies--and the boots were a 42. So I sent them back and spend the weekend worrying about whether I actually wanted pink boots. Similar to the fretting I did over the pink slicker.

t all came to a head this morning, when I decided, no, pink boots were not for me. And I didn't choose violet, or teal, or the pretty floral ones. I chose black with a veggie print on the rubber part--it was the pineapple and eggplant that sealed the deal.

Pink, With a Vengence

I'm noticing how pink is slowly edging its way into my life. I spent so much (read: the MAJORITY) of my childhood and adolescence resisting its advances, it's kind of ironic observing the growth of pink in my life.

My slicker. My phone case. My wallet. My favourite shirt. My swimmie shorts. My rainboots. My favourite blanket. My hot pink Converse. My favourite sweatshirt.

Sometimes i ride on the bus and scheme ways I can let more pink into my life. I think it's a reconciliation between my childhood and my Now.

"Should I Buy the Pink Slicker?"

A few years back, I read an essay in the book Black Queer Studies about gender performativity. I can honestly say that it was one of the most inaccessible academic essays I had encountered. So much so that I don't plan on revisiting it any time soon.

But

It helped plant some seeds regarding gender and the many ways it its acted out and performed. I find myself contemplating these topics often.

Particularly yesterday, as I was shopping online for a slicker. I've lived in the PNW for over  three years now and I still don't own a proper raincoat, so I decided it was time to swallow my pride and shell out the cash. And I wanted a pink one. Which raised an internal debate that lasted most of the afternoon and well into the night.

"Should I buy the pink slicker? I really want it. What are the social repercussions of me wearing a bright pink raincoat? I'm read as and I pass as a young Black man. How would a pink slicker impact the masculinity I perform? How a pink slicker validate the femininity I preform? How would a pink raincoat impact the benefits I get as a 'young Black man' and the relative ease with which I move through society? How would a pink raincoat compromise my safety?"

Soul-searching questions that dog so many of my daily decisions....

It's tough, finding a balance between what society believes me to be, what I am, and who I want to be perceived as. it takes WEB DuBois' double-conconsciousness to a whole different level, because I deal not only with race, but a gender that is fluid and multi-facted. Ugh, so much shit to wade through for a gotdamned slicker.

Add to that the rainboots I needed to complete my NorthWest uniform and repeat the cycle of questioning. Because of course I wanted the pink Bogs. Well, 'want' is not really true. It was more like, "I need the pink boots to live!!!"

I don't have the answers to those questions, because they are constantly evolving, as are my tools to deal with any gender policing bullshit that's thrown my way.

I do however know that a gorgeous pink slicker and beautiful pink Bogs are on their way to my doorstep. And I am insanely happy.

Crests and Troughs

Ten years ago, I was sex=crazed. I was consuming a lot of media that told me sex was the only way to be intimate--romantically--with a person and I was channeling my desire for intimacy into a desire for sex.

Ten years late, and a three-year intensive int he Pacific Northwest has taught me there are other ways to be intimate, romantically, than sex. Connecting physically (non sexually), mentally, emotionally, spiritually (personally) rank higher than any sexual contact I'd have with a romantic partner, although that's not to say all areas can be hit through sex.

One of my biggest anxieties when starting T was the increased libido, and how that would... influence my behaviours.  I thought I might become some sort of sex-crazed monster making really rash and unsafe decisions, in terms of sexual behaviours and emotional safety.

I guess I really shouldn't believe all the stories I hear and read, because yeah, my libido increased, but I'd also say I'm less interested in engaging sexually (or romantically) with people than before. And maybe that's just my perspective currently--where my main focus is on getting the fuq out of the PNW.  And I'm fine with that. Sex takes a lot of work, and I'm really about... redistributing that energy. 

These are interesting thoughts to me. I'l check back in about this topic int he New Year.

Black Women

crosspost with FOD and JTA

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I was/am raised by Black women. I was/am guided by Black women. I was/am nurtured by Black women. I was/am loved by Black women.

I've been reflecting on my interactions with the Black women in my family, and how these have changed as I've begun to be perceived as a man. 

I've been reading about Black masculinity in bell hooks' 'We Real Cool,' and trying to figure out how my performance of masculinity has been impacted by being a person that was assigned female at birth, and how this socialisation has influenced and continues to influence the decisions and choices I make. 

I've been thinking about how Black women are portrayed in the media and the sometimes overt, but oftentimes subtle misogynoir (anti-Black racism and sexism) that I observe from this gray-area I inhabit between the worlds of masculinity and femininity.  

Is the fierce protectiveness I feel for Black women paternalistic and condescending? Am I perpetuating the sexist cycle of Black masculinity by stifling the autonomy of Black womanhood? How can I balance these conflicting feelings to create stronger, healthier bonds between myself and the Black women in my life?

I've been thinking a lot about the power and benefits* I am granted as a person who can move through men's spaces, and how to use this power to interrupt anti-Black sexism within (and outside of) the Black community.

I have been struggling to understand how I Love Black women, and in what ways. How do I honour this Love? In what ways am I challenging my internalised misogynoir, as a person who once identified as a Black woman? How is this Love changing as I am granted male benefits*?

I've been thinking deeply about the time I identified as a Black woman, and a sense of loss of community I feel by no longer identifying as such. How can I use this lifetime of experience to create space for conversations around gender, masculinity, femininity, and gender expression in the Black spaces I move through? 

These are a few questions I've been mulling over the last year....

*I use the term 'benefits' rather than 'privileges' when describing being perceived as a man. Privilege is power given that is never thought about except when it is challenged but even in those occasions it is still present; benefits are given on a case-by-case basis.  I am a trans*masculine female-assigned-at-birth person. Although I pass as a man in most spaces, there are still instances where I do not. In these cases, I am subject to overt sexism and transphobia, and the potential harassment and assault is always present. I am continuously conscious that these benefits are conditional and can be taken away in any given situation.

Baby Fever

crosspost from FOD.  Originally published Mon 2 Sept 2013

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I have a lot of friends who talk about how they have 'baby fever' or want to have babies. I need to contextualise my baby fever.

When I talk about baby fever, it's less the the "Holy fuq, there's a human growing in my body!" or the "Holy fuq this person is crying and eating and pooping at the same time, in my lap!!" or the "Holy fuq this person is walking around and-- Gotdamn, I thought I moved that thing onto a high shelf!"

It's more the "You just made the sign for 'milk'--let me get some for you," and the "You memorized that whole story and read it back to me. You are so awesome!!" and the "You ask really great questions. Let's brainstorm some answers together," and the "Your sibling is crying because of a choice you made. Let's talk about alternatives so maybe next time no one gets hurt."

The raising kids to become thoughtful, compassionate, radical, revolutionary visionaries.

That's what baby fever means to me.

Co-Parenting

crosspost from FOD. Originally published Wed 28 Aug 2013

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I have baby fever. It's not like it's exactly a secret--ask my friends.  I've been thinking seriously about things for awhile now--shit that went on in my childhood and healing through those hurts so that I can be more present for my own kids; where I want to raise my kiddos so that they will have access to culture, community and a variety of different resources as they learn and grow; the values and lessons I want to raise my children with.

I should probably start thinking seriously about whether I actually want to birth babies. That's going to take more intentional planning since that means finding a doc who's trans* friendly and competent as well as sperm and shit.

:le sigh:

I've been thinking seriously about all of this because I recently found someone who I seriously want to co-parent with. Their temperament and personality complement mine.  We communicate well. And we rub along easily together.  The bonus is I saw them around a child and

:deep breath:

it's e x a c t l y what I'm looking for. The light in their eyes and the focus on the child... :domestic swoon:  I can't even, because it was so perfect and exactly what I've been looking for.

Now the difficult part is getting up the courage to share my grand idea with them.  I mean, this isn't something I can bring up on a whim. How does one go about asking another person to co-parent with them?  This is harder than asking someone out, because the level of commitment is just so great. This is a lifetime we'd be committing to  each other....

Shit just got so real. >___<

The Passport Question

I'm in the home stretch of getting my legal documents updated to reflect my name change, and I've been undecided about what to do with my passport.

Well, first let me start by saying that it's $110 to update just my name. I mean really Dept of State, $110??? I should just shred my passport and get a new one. Ugh, bureaucracy. But that's not the real issue.

The thing that's been holding me back is whether or not to also update my gender marker. I have a really big apprehension about not changing it, because I really want to spare myself the hassle and of security folks not believing the 'F' currently present on my passport and any... probing that might be done. Not that I won't flip the whole mu'fucking checkpoint if anyone tries to touch my beautiful Black ass. But I don't really wanna have to take it there--I need to keep my blood pressure down.

If I decide to change the gender marker on my passport, it will be the only legal document I will do so on. And I'm worried the inconsistency will raise a red flag, forcing me to update all my other docs, which I am not about doing. Mainly because I want to leave the option open to bear children and it might/will be more difficult to get the care I need with that 'M' on my ID. I also don't plan on having bottom surgery and I need those reminders to have an annual/bi-annual/wait-how-often? pap smear.

:le sigh:

Things that are one my mind.....