Beware, White Girls, Beware

So, I did make it out of bed today. A few more times than yestereday--a good sign. I went to the store since there was no food in the house (canned tomato sauce, week old chicken, and various cheeses, not withstanding...) I pulled into the space and hopped out the car in one swift movement. I try not to stay still for too long (or make any sudden movements) because I am incredibly self-conscious about how I am perceived by those around me. And having practiced 'invisibility' for years now, I'm pretty good at maneuvering in public, arousing little attention.

I had locked the doors remotely... maybe I was walking fast, but I was in my own world, not really paying attention to anything around me until I was acutely aware of eyes on me. They were cautious, curious eyes. Funny how you can feel people's emotions without even seeing their expressions. I turned around briefly to catch a glimpse of the girl. Emily. I knew this girl's name because, unlike many, I have an unfortunate tendency to remember people's first and last names and some little trivial fact about them. Like the fact that I knew it was her SUV parked next to my car because of the breast cancer awareness stickers on the back. Her mom had breast cancer when we were younger--I'm not sure if she passed away, but I think she did. Anyway, so yes. I knew this girl from elementary school. And if someone told her my full birth name, she'd probably search ever brain cell wondering why it sounded familiar to her. She, of course, would forget that over the years we were in several of the same classes.

Well, cautious, curious, Emily was now walking slowly to open up the space between me and her, and without turning around, I knew that she wasn't taking her eyes off of me. I knew the look. The expression. I've experienced the look increasingly over the past few months. It was the exact look that sheltered, suburban white girls give 'mysterious' men of color who drive sports cars. We are all, of course, sexual predators; and white girls learned to lock the doors immediately when they got to their cars, or to begin mercilessly flirting with the hopes that this one might be the boy to piss off Daddy. Emily was of the former group.

The first time this happened to me, I felt indignant, sad, hurt, slightly embarassed, then finally a glimmer of hope. As least I was being perceived as a black male (NOT female). That means I'd get all that came with such recognition. Unfortunately, what these white girls (and no, I'm OBVIOUSLY not speaking for every white girl in the world, just the ones I grew up with...) fail to realize is that they are a much greater threat to us that we are to them. If their male significant others weren't out to lynch us for being black, we were definitely going to be targeted for being trans. Oh yes. Let us never forget that, as a transman, we can still be raped and tortured and humiliated like any other female-bodied person.

Maybe I should have titled this post, "Beware, Black Transmen, Beware."

Book Review: Lilith's Brood

There are a couple reasons for two posts today. The first is that I wanted to talk to someone. The second is that I am sick in bed and not exactly wanting to interact, physically, with anyone. The third is that while sick in bed, I finished an incredible book that I have been reading for the past couple of weeks. The book, Lilith's Brood by Octavia Butler, is actually three books combined into one; Dawn, Adulthood Rites, and Imago. I guess the best way to talk about the story is to break it down into each of the smaller books.

Dawn. Humanity has just experienced its final war, the war to end all wars... and life on Earth. An alien species, the Oankali, manage to rescue a handful of survivors from the nuclear holocaust (incidentally, people tending to be in the southern hemisphere at the time) and sustain their life through suspended animation on a ship just outside the moon's orbit around the earth. The Oankali are known as 'traders', that is, through 'trading' some of their DNA with the DNA of an alien species, they produce offspring containing the best qualities of both. So obviously, the plan is to trade with humans. They choose the reluctant leader, Lilith, to awaken other humans, explain to them the nature of their rescue, and to train the humans to survive in the post-apocalyptic, newly revived earth. (New earth is somewhere in the Amazon. Humans are encouraged to live peaceful, raw vegan lifestyles. Yay!) Of course, there's a catch. While the Oankali corrected any genetic mutations and predispositions to disease--making the humans stronger and more resilient-- they also induced sterility among the humans. The only way for the Humans to procreate is by joining with the Oankali.

Adulthood Rites. The union between the Oankali and Humans of Lilith's family has produced the first Human-born male construct, Akin. Seen as a threat to both species, Human males would have the intense perceptions of the Oankali and the empathy for Human intelligence/hierarchical design known as the Human Contradiction. As an infant, Akin is kidnapped by Human resistors of the Oankali to be sold to a couple who chose the Oankali-induced sterility over interspecies procreation. He is separated from what would become his closest sibling (born a few months later) forcing a biochemical estrangement of the two. Living his most impressionable years away from his closest sibling an among human resistors, he understands their cause and wants to help. Years later, after his returning to his village, he is sent to the Oankali space ship with his estranged sibling in hopes of finding an ooloi (the 'third' Oankali gender that made procreation between the species possible, and who served as a medicine practitioner) who might help repair their relationship. While away, Akin also studies under an Oankali sage (of the 'old' kind) who did not participate in the previous DNA trade that produced the present Oankali race. If these Oankali could be exempt from the trade, then Humans who also did not want to participate should be given their own space (and their fertility) to recreate their own civilization, Akin argued to the Oankali. They just had to find a place to do it, and Human resistors willing to colonize the new space.

Imago. The Human-Oankali trade on Earth has produced its first Human-born ooloi construct--a creation believed to be so dangerous that Oankali consensus held that it must immediately be returned to the ship permanently. Or endure exile on earth. The Oankali believed that the new ooloi would have shape-shifting capabilities that would frighten and cause the Human resistors to react violently in response and it would not have the ability to control genetic modifications it induced in the plant and animal life it experienced. The family chose temporary exile until the new ooloi, Jodahs, could prove itself to not be a threat. Its same-sex parent, Nikanj (ooloi of Lilith's mating) trains and nurtures it through its first metamorphosis. Afterward, Jodahs experiences an incredible urge to find a mate and while wandering through the woods during his exile, finds two ideal Humans with a surprising secret. All the while, his closest sibling also reveals itself to be ooloi. In order for both ooloi siblings to survive, they must find mates, evade violent, armed Human resistors, and create an existence on earth for the new ooloi constructs.

End of synopsis. Alright, so I've actually never written a book review before. And it's pretty difficult to toe the line of summarizing the story while not giving too much away such that no one will want to read the book. Anyway, I really enjoyed it and definitely had dreams in which I was part of the new Human-Oankali society. If you read the book, I think you'll understand my fascination with the trade (I'm not particularly attached to my species anyway, which is not a bad thing) but also with the ooloi and what they could do for us if they were real. I love how the story was so much about the phenomenon of life itself, and I want to end this with the last few lines of the book, lines which I felt totally best summed up the tone.

"I chose a spot near the river. There I prepared the seed to go into the ground. I gave it a thick, nutritious coating, then brought it out of my body through my right sensory hand. I planted it deep in the rich soil of the riverbank. Secondsafter I had expelled it, I felt it begin the tiny positioning movements of independent life." -Lilith's Brood: Imago by Octavia Butler

when things fall into place

As I was going to bed last night, I realized something.  I realized that I was finally, perceptably, different.  Different than I was before.  With over a million cells in our body dying and changing and being replaced everyday, it's surprising that we never realize that we ARE in fact different from the day before.  We've had different experiences, been exposed to different chemicals and energies, our own bodies have metabolized and produced different substances... we can't help but NOT be different.  But how long does it take for us to realize the change?  How long after we give up working out do we notice that we're getting 'soft' (for lack of a better explanation.)  How long after we stop poisoning ourselves (with drugs, cigarettes, alcohol...) can we notice how much cleaner our bodies feel?  How long after beginning testosterone did I start to feel like I wasn't a series of minute changes, but a new person altogether?  127 days.

For many of us to notice any change in our bodies, we must be cognizant of how we change in our responses to our environments.  But recognizing the initial problem with myself--my extreme, uncorrected dysphoria toward my body--was only minimally reflected in my day-to-day experiences.  I guess I shouldn't be surprised, then, that I was not out among friends or at work or doing anything in the community that prompted me to notice the change.  It was a mere 24 hours after taking my most recent testosterone shot that the chemicals were high in my blood (and I was fighting off an intense anger I had only felt once before since beginning hormones) that I happen to look in the mirror.  For a second, I didn't realize who this person was looking back at me.  I was washing my hands, and when I looked up, I was met by an expression full of anger, hurt, some insecurity, a lot of curiosity... and something else.  I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but another 24 hours later, I am beginning to think it was the look of someone suffering from their own self-imposed exile.  The face and the eyes looked like someone who desperately wanted a companion on his island, but could not bring himself to leave the island looking for that person.  The expression was an contradictory mix of loneliness and a general rejection of intimacy.  The person in the mirror seemed to hate himself for not knowing how to feel.

And while I washed my hands, I was definitely still that 'person', an 'it' by social standards as people referred to me using both male and female pronouns interchangeably... the person in the mirror was undeniably male.  And full of the male conflict.

X-Men Powers

So, a few days ago my co-workers and I were talking about some of the amazing things we'd hear about people doing... like amazing hidden talents such as having an eidetic memory (photo-memory) or being able to do super crazy math problems in your head.  And one guy, who's about 25, said, "I wonder what my amazing thing is.  I mean, I'd like to know what my X-Men power is.  I don't think I have one."  Of course, whenever he says something, serious or not, he sounds hilarious.  So we all giggled, but inwardly, we're all asking the same question.

I guess being able to do something special makes us feel more special? More important? More deserving of attention? I don't know what it is, but this guy and I have a few things in common: we grew up in the same suburban, Northern Virginia county; fairly affluent parents, complete with a semi-estranged relationship with our fathers; had to take time off from college and are now trying to finish... maybe it's those things that give us some sense of security (a safety net?) and a slight sense of failure.  Okay, I'm not going to speak for him, but there's definitely some contradiction here, and I, for one, would like to escape the conditional safety net of my parents (they will support me as long as they can tell me who and what I am) while at the same time making them proud.  Hmmm.

And so, the solution is x-men powers.  The ability to do something do amazing that people are willing to overlook any faults/flaws.  Maybe I'm thinking too much into this.  Or maybe it's personal consolation because if we can find one truly awesome thing about ourselves, maybe we can stop thinking about all the petty crap in our lives.  

My first time

Hehe, okay, so you won't be the first to hear this: this is my first time. That's because it's not 'technically' my first time... but it's also not NOT my first time either. What do I mean? Well, I've had made weblog posts before, but on an official 'blog' site, this is my first. Hmmm. Nrrrh.

So, this blog is going to be the one where I write like I don't care who reads it (cause I don't) and I'm going to be brutally honest. It's sorta like my private blog that the world can read. That means I'll be talking about icky self-esteem issues, my sad-ass attempt at a love life, my well-intentioned musings about Buddhist teachings, my very slow and pathetic transition from female-to-male, and some naive observations and interpretations of the world around me.

Anyway, to everyone: welcome. This is my written medium for sharing my life. My life in video can be found at www.youtube.com/XXEthanXY and in pictures at http://ethanisalive.deviantart.com Feel free to hit me up with questions because I would rather have extremely personal or what you might consider 'embarassing' questions than for people to be ignorant. So that's me. Cheers!