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From a former web page project…Called ‘Awaken From  the Dream’ [of conditioned personality]

Hi!   I’m April Rose….A human being.

First I will dispense with the requisite self-promotion, and try to make this presentation  as painless as possible. A  partial description of my life, a kind of biography-lite if you will, entitled ‘A Rose in Bloom’ was published in a soft cover anthology entitled
“Finding the Real Me: True Tales of Sex and Gender Diversity”  published in 2003 by Jossey-Bass and edited by  Tracie O’Keefe and Katrina Fox.

But there’s much more to this story than that 5000 word synopsis of a ‘boy trapped in a little girl’s body.’  On these pages, drenched with the blood, sweat and tears of perhaps the first self-proclaimed, full time Trans philosopher, writing  without the benefit of respectability conferred by a long list of meaningful initials-although my therapist/friend/muse Ms. Lotta Hope says I would have a PHD in Transsexualism if such a thing existed-you  will find the  lessons lived, and the wisdom gained from a life spent in the shadow of a culture terminally infected with the virus of dualistic thinking.

Sometimes I’m surprised I’m still alive. I was born into the repressive sexist culture of the 1950’s. The now infamous Stonewall Rebellion-which marked the emergence of the gay liberation movement-was more than a decade away. Effeminate men and butch women lived in closets of carefully constructed lies designed to protect them from the savage, often violent reaction of extreme homophobia. Transexuals were unknown to the general population. People who strayed too far into the forbidden zone of cross gendered dress or behavior were condemned as mentally ill.  Even today as we enter the second decade of the 21 rst century, the condition of being transgendered is defined by the diagnostic bible of the psychiatric establisment, the DSM [Diagnostic and Statiscal Manual],  as a mental illness. And the assertion is not without merit. In the broadest social context condition, transgenderism is so viral that it frequently causes  mental instability in the conventionally gendered, resulting in a wide range of violent behaviors directed at the slightest hint of transgendered behavior.

In the language of the medical model, I am a post operative male to female transexual, although  my use of the term transexual  refers specifically to the fact that my physical being has changed from mostly male to mostly female.  I did not hear the words TWO SPIRIT  until I was in my mid-forties, yet on a deeper level of awareness, as my being emerged from the subconscious soup of infancy, I sensed a profound, yet undefinable contradiction about myself. I could see two halves of my self like a deep fissure in heavy crystal, but I could not touch them. In the confusion, I was compelled to keep a safe distance from this  misplaced body and I began to drift, hovering outside of myself, as an observer,,, as the other.  By the age of ten, I was convinced that some horrible cosmic mistake had occurred.

Eventually, I found the visual evidence of this incomprehensible contradiction the first time I looked in the mirror, around age seven, and did not recognize the person looking back. A persistent sense of me/not me confronted my awareness every time I went to the looking glass.  As this sense of psychic rupture emerged and persisted, I experienced an acute sense of panic that remained with me for many years.  During this most crucial period of personality formation and integration, in the grip of profound trauma,  my young self floundered on the edge of spiritual disintegration.

Like  pebbles dropped into clear calm waters of my being,  the resultant  waves of confusion and pain would eventually touch all the shores of my being for many decades to come.  I became lost in a chaotic realm where  personality development wasn’t an option-but mere psychic survival was a challenge. The implications of this developmental glitch on my mental stability were, and continue to be  far-reaching.  This sense of depersonalization that engulfed me eventually pushed me to the brink of an abyss of psychic dissolution.

As disturbing as this realization was to me on a personal level,  the societal implications were equally daunting.  By the age of fourteen,  I had internalized so much shame that I wanted to die.  There was no one like me in the world.  I wasn’t a round peg in a square hole, I wasn’t a peg at all. But how could this be? What was this sense of self that was I was so defective that I would rather die than reveal my horrible truth to anyone-especially the people who held my young fate in their hands, my parents. This dark matter of complete abandonment remains with me to this day,  though disempowered by my intention to make friends with it as a useful component of my consciousness. But I am getting ahead of myself.

In a supreme effort to escape my miserable fate, I failed at every manner of risk taking behavior, including drinking and driving, taking almost any drug that passed before me, putting the barrel of my .357 Magnum in my mouth, hitching thousands of miles, taking rides from anyone, stumbling through the night, on the dark streets of human misery. Along the way, I lost four decades of friends, family,  human experience and a male disguise that I had grown to love.

As I reached my late twenties, I felt myself dying spiritually. My sense of victimization was so great that I fell into deep depression and despair. My life force had dwindled to a thin thread of hope. In my hometown of Dayton, Ohio. I had become an embarrassment to my family. So they donated a car, a 1967 Chevy Impala station wagon, and waved happily as I departed for San Francisco. Ten miles out, I stopped to shave, apply make up put on a dress and buy beer.  Lookout San Fran. Here come da Tranny.

I was going to the Bay City, with just enough money for gas, to find an infamous transexual therapist, Laura Cummings, whom I’d met there in 1971. But Laura was charging $125.00 an hour, and had no time for us lowly non-chromosomal transsexuals. And from that point, it was all down hill. I drove around San Francisco looking for a $35.00 room. Rube that I was, I found myself lost in the Mission District looking for a safe place to hide-much like a bleeding mackeral seeking respite in a shark tank.

The first night there, upon the manager’s request, I parked my car in the back lot of the building. In the morning, everything of value that I’d brought with me for a “new start” had been stolen. Twenty five years of pictures, clothes, make up…every material thing I owned. Gone. The second night the manager, who apparently thought I was gay, tried to seduce me.

Here was my bottom, my life was a personal pit of suffering that I thought I should end for everyone’s sake. No more would I be persecuted by a cruel world. My moment had arrived. Wait till THEY found out what I had done. They would be sorry. Finally all of my suffering had provided me with a temporary identity of sorts- not my first choice for an identity-but better than none .  At last, the role I was destined to play. I’ll PLAY THE VICTIM..

Fortunately life, or spirit, does yield to the expectations of drunk transexual girls. I remember the day that I stopped being a victim with startling clarity. I was at the end of a 29 year old rope that was fraying badly at both ends and the in middle. Standing on the Golden Gate Bridge without hope, full of despair and vodka, I yearned only for the courage to jump to my death.

Then as I stood transfixed by the mental image of my body floating down from the bridge to the bay, a most curious shift of perception infused my consciousness. A voice in my head, a loving voice spoke to me and said, “You have still have choices.  Make a different one. The end is the beginning.” In a moment a subtle shift had occurred. The end is the beginning? I was so confused by this metaphysical moment that I wandered off the bridge in a daze. I have since come to view this life saving incident as an encounter with shamanic power- a mysterious power beyond my grasp, that  demonstrated a principle so profound that I have studied it since and made it the foundation of my being.  I call it “The Dream Principle.”

From that moment on the bridge to this one,  I have dedicated my life to the liberation of all sentient beings, especially my fellow transgendered humans. The blessings of the transgendered life is that we come to know suffering from the two polar perspectives: Yin and Yang. This awareness of the transcendent nature of suffering expands our potential for compassion beginning with ourselves–for we must first offer to ourselves that which we intend for others before we begin to appreciate our lives for the courage, strength and integrity that we embody as unique human beings.

And so, I offer you, brave reader, this, my Two Spirits Medicine.

Namaste

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Greetings to all human beings and their ancestors and to all sentient beings who honor their connection to Mother Earth. My name is Rosie and I am a Two-Spirits healer. I come to you now with an open heart and a passionate desire to share the vision and wisdom of two spirit medicine. The medicine of my tribe is powerful because it symbolizes balance and harmony. But more than that, the power of my medicine provides the context for the re-unification of the duality of opposites. In simpler terms, mine is the medicine of non-duality.

These words fulfill my responsibility to share my spiritual journey with the receptive hearts and minds of those who need to hear them. For readers unfamiliar with the subject, I offer a brief description of two-spirited consciousness, followed by a short history of that tradition. In the end, I will weave them together in a cosmic mandala for your meditation.

The expression “Two Spirits” refers to the manifestation of masculine and feminine energy in one individual. It is a relatively new way of describing a tradition that has existed in indigenous cultures around the world prior to the development of western civilization. In order to understand this tradition, this different way of viewing gender, we must first be clear on the distinction between sex and gender. A popular saying describes the difference as follows: Sex is between the legs, gender is between the ears. In other words, gender is not about sexual preference, rather it is the expression of our unique sexuality.

The expression of two-spirits in one individual is, more accurately, one’s spiritual expression of two polar aspects known as yin and yang. The ancient symbolism of yin and yang, together referred to as the Tao, symbolizes the fundamental principle by which the Great Spirit animates and informs every thing that exists on this material plane. At its most elementary level, yin and yang describe a balanced energetic relationship where yin is the passive principal and yang is the active principal. Because yin defines yang, and yang defines yin, these opposing principles hold equal value in an idealized state of balance. Relativity, interdependence and harmony provide form. From this original concept of the duality of opposites springs all other artificial concepts of division.

I was born into the body of a male baby in 1951. By the age of five, I became aware of a subtle disturbance in my energy field. Within five years of this realization my young personality floundered in the turbulent waters of a gender identity process gone horribly awry. A feeling of non-ordinary reality, accompanied by a growing sense of detachment, infused my daily existence. I became depressed and withdrawn.

Over a period of years revelation came to me in dreams, where my spirit showed me the reason for my discomfort. Each night as I lay in bed, I closed my eyes to find my spirit inhabiting the physical form of a happy little girl. I didn’t know, or care at all how this transformation occurred. I was happy for a brief moment of peace. As natural as a falcon taking wing, I accepted this dreaming aspect of my personality as an integral part of my being

Eventually, I found creative ways to stay home alone and express my other-gendered nature with the help of my mother’s wardrobe. But these occasional interludes created another dichotomy: my joyful affinity for feminine expression would cause me great pain upon discovery. Though I knew little of the ways of the world that lay beyond the safe confines of the post World War II, working class, cookie cutter neighborhood of my youth, I did intuit one of society’s essential, unspoken principals with profound clarity: good little boys did not live for stolen moments of cross-dressed glory.

In the American middle class of the1950’s, the world was divided into two kinds of gendered people: men and women. Any hint of cross-gendered behavior invited violence and humiliation. L found proof in the daily newspapers of America and felt the violent undercurrents of misogyny. The realization that I could be the target of such hatred frightened me at the deepest level of my awareness.

From the very beginning of my conscious awareness I was caught in a moral dilemma of immense proportion. In the place of healthy childhood development, my ravaged young personality resembled a rudderless ship being sucked into a maelstrom of sexual energies that I could feel but not articulate. I intuited that some cosmic mix-up had occurred between my mind and body, yet I had no words to describe the sense of disassociation that I experienced on a daily basis.

Beginning in early adolescence and throughout the most crucial period of personality development, neurosis and self-loathing poisoned my spirit at every step on the path to adulthood. Contradictions that would not yield to logic confronted me at every turn, on every level of my being. I had “awakened” in this present incarnation with extreme dissonance of mind and body that I dare not reveal on penalty of death. While my spirit whispered an awareness of my two spirited nature in one ear, the societal voiceof sexist bigotry screamed shame and fear into the other ear. Imprisoned by fate in this physical form that I could not accept or change, I suffered in isolation for many years.

My sense of abandonment became a prison-fort where I became angry, suspicious, and withdrawn. Despite a natural tendency as a child was to seek relief through the wisdom of my parents, I knew intuitively that they weren’t emotionally stable enough to deal with these feelings that I could not describe. Even more injurious to my tender young ego was my conviction that to speak my truth would expose my young spirit to the violence of a world locked in delusion.

By the age 15, a huge gaping chasm developed between the carefully constructed, socially acceptable male image that I exhibited and the overpowering impulse of my secret feminine self. I was paralyzed by an irreconcilable contradiction. Caught between the maxim that “Jesus loved me, because the Bible told me so” and the knowledge that if anyone discovered my deep, dark secret I would be burned at the stake, I teetered on the brink of madness with little hope for resolution.

I trusted absolutely no one including parents and friends, aunts and uncles, teachers or preachers. Artifice contaminated all of my relationships save the one I had with myself. A deep sense of dread prevented me from even thinking about communicating this delicate issue to anyone. As a result of my universal mistrust-cum- paranoia, I found myself utterly alone, holding onto suicidal ideation as an antidote to the pain.

A few months after I graduated from high school, my life fell apart. The flimsy masculine image I had employed as a disguise began to deteriorate. Without a high school audience to appreciate my impersonation of a young man, I was an actress without a part. Severely depressed, I retreated into my own world–a sheltered, sacred world of intense intellectual exploration into the mechanism of human consciousness…

In 1969, scant information was available on the subject of transgenderism, the psychological model of people with a non-conforming gender identity. Psychiatry, from the male dominant perspective, continued to treat gender identity as a sort of minor psychosis. For hundreds of years, institutionalization was the treatment of choice for people who were not comfortable in their assigned gender. I struggled to maintain my male disguise while searching for a right path to understanding.

Despite my baptism as a good Lutheran boy, and a lifetime of half-hearted supplication, my prayers went unanswered. This dubious god of the pious masses had abandoned me. Two spirited people were not mentioned in the Bible, or any other religious text. Logically then, I abandoned the notion of this cruel God, whose biblical omission continues to cause untold suffering and needless death. By the time I had reached my early twenties, as an antidote to the spiritual toxicity of right-wing fundamentalist religion, I embarked on a life long study of the ancient belief systems of indigenous peoples.

I began my education with Native American tribes who perceived the energetic relationship of humans to their environment in a profound way that, as a result of genocide, may be lost to us forever. From the documentation of explorers and anthropologists, I found that indigenous cultures around the world valued the manifestations of the spirit so infinite in its diversity. The Great Spirit’s creative authority was not questioned in matters of divine expression. The Native Americans accepted all expressions of the Great Spirit as containing a wisdom nature that provided essential balance in every aspect of their environment.

One-hundred fifty years before I was born, the dreams of my youth would have been a sign from the Great Spirit that I was meant to be a two-spirited medicine person in Native American culture. An apocryphal story of one North American tribe points to this sort of implicit acceptance of the will of the Great Spirit regarding gender: According to oral history, a young boy or girl who showed the slightest indication of cross gendered behavior was placed in a grass hut with one male toy and one female toy. The hut was then set on fire. If the child’s gendered choice was ‘opposite’ their natal sex, the Great Spirit had spoken in affirmation of the child’s dual gender/nature thereby placing them in high esteem in the tribal society.

Each tribe had a name for these special people: The Lakota referred to them as Winkte [would-be woman]. The Navaho called them “nadleeh“[one who changes time and again]. In the Crow tribe, they were named “bade”, and the Zuni called them “ilhamana”. Though the names of the Two-Spirit people varied greatly from tribe to tribe,   the trans-national similarities of their two-spirit traditions were remarkable considering the territorial nature of tribal life.

Native Americans in general recognized the two-spirit folk as divinely imbued with a special insight regarding human nature. Based on this gift of the spirit, tribes conferred much honor on them in terms of their position and responsibility to the tribe. The spiritual gifts of their dual nature promoted them to positions of reverence in the role of hunters, story tellers, shamans, warriors, medicine persons, informal marriage counselors, and leaders of naming ceremonies.

Male born two-spirits were considered especially valuable in the sense that they performed the duties of a woman with the strength of a man. Many woman born two-spirits were fierce warriors, respected by their fellow male warriors for their high level of skill in horse riding and counting coup. Indigenous society did not judge, chastise, ridicule or kill the two spirited person as did white society. They celebrated the gifts of diversity.

This indigenous appreciation for the necessity of balance through the interplay of yin and yang came to a sad end with the genocide of the North American Indian. With the arrival of the Spanish conquistadores and zealous Jesuit missionaries, the two spirited tradition of the North American Indians was destroyed by the violence of enforced acculturation.  History now provides us with a tragic account of the many sordid ways that Spanish Conquistadors, driven by a belief system that married white supremacy with  pseudo-pious religious imperialism, began a murderous, systematic war of cultural attrition against the “brown skinned” cultures of the North American continent.

When the Spanish explorer Cabeza de Vaca landed in Florida in the year 1530 and discovered the Timicuan Indians who lived there, notations in his diary indicated that he had witnessed “soft Native American males dressing and working as women’.    The Timicuan were a small elegant, artistic tribe located in northern Florida. Far from the violence of the northern and western tribes, they had little reason for weapons and no shame about these soft males whom de Vaca referred to as berdache– from the Persian “bardaj,” a derogatory term whose origins refer to a passive homosexual partner, usually a “pretty” or feminine young boy. A famous lithograph reveals de Vaca’s murderous sentiments toward these “sodomites.” The proud conquistador celebrates while two-spirited people are thrown into a pit, mauled by wild dogs and suffer a slow painful death

Beginning in the 1880’s, as proper American society moved across the Great Plains and into the mountains and deserts of the west, people encountered more of these “odd savages” and became determined to recreate Indian society in the image of Euro-American culture. Native Americans were taken away from their homes, their villages, their tribes, and families and acculturated into white society en masse. Dressed and shorn in fashion of white culture, they were often imprisoned where they were beaten like animals for the slightest indication that they might not wholeheartedly embrace the ways of their captors.

The intentional destruction of Native American culture and the subsequent violent imposition of European Neo-Victorian values signaled the beginning of the end of   the two-spirit tradition on the North American continent. By the early 1900’s, their proud tradition was little more than a footnote in a rare historical text.      Ironically, while religion succeeded in destroying the two-spirited tradition in indigenous North America, the essence of two spirited wisdom persists despite its detractors. I am living proof of this assertion. From my earliest memories, I have known myself as a human being with a male spirit alongside an equally prominent feminine spirit. Long before I had heard of the term two spirits, I experienced it as a psychological context of my existence.

As I delved further into the anthropology of pagan/indigenous spiritual belief, I began to draw strength from the images of proud two-spirited people–celebrated for their diversity, wisdom, bravery, courage, and spiritual power in indigenous tribes across the globe. I found numerous examples, both mythological and historical, of people with androgynous character. In these colorful pan-cultural narratives, I read of both men and women who were transformed into members of the opposite sex, either permanently or temporarily, for the sake of punishment or education. From their legacy, I found liberation from the applied stigma of an intolerant, judgmental society

This new perspective empowered me with the knowledge of my inherent spiritual strength, but with validation came responsibility. No longer was it possible to play the victim. I made the conscious decision to recreate my self image based on a model of the two spirited elders who had gone before me. My warrior’s spirit, suppressed for so many years by internalized shame and bigotry, found inspiration in the knowledge that people   like me were validated in ancient history. I embraced this new manifestation of the spirit and resolved to let it guide me in my search for enlightenment

Buddhists call it maya; the Toltec call it the Dream. The Dream of the planet is the collective conditioning that creates duality where none actually exists. Maya is the conditioning that justifies war and poverty, abuse and oppression, judgment and punishment, right and wrong, and murder for the sake of ideology. Regardless of the name, the process that no humans can avoid in varying degrees is the non-critical internalization of information as directed by the intention of the Dream world we inhabit. As I assimilated this unified theory of consciousness, my life began to make sense.   In his book of profound wisdom, “The Four Agreements”, Don Miguel Ruiz makes the point succinctly,

“Humans are dreaming all the time. Before we were born the humans before us created a big outside dream we will call society’s dream or the dream of the planet dreams which together create a dream of family, a dream of community a dream of city, a dream of country and finally a dream of the whole humanity The dream of the planet includes all of society’s rules, its beliefs, its laws, its religions, its different cultures and ways to be, its government, schools, social events and holidays.”

At the crux of the process is our agreement to the terms of our survival. With the capacity to dream from the moment of birth, our attention is contingent upon our need to survive. Thus, when you are lying in your crib at the age of two, cold and hungry,   without the benefit of personal boundaries, you will agree to any ordered condition of your specific environment in order to live.

At the moment a parent or guardian, who orders or allows the conditions of our little world, enters our sacred space and infects it with negative energy, we internalize those conditions. The absorbent yin nature of infantile consciousness provides the ideal context for the establishment of layered patterns of dysfunction. This patterning describes the process of random input that determines personality. As this initial layer becomes fixed in time, self awareness is built on an endless loop of a conditioned patterning and reactive emotion.

With no discrimination possible upon our entrance into the Dream, our attention is hooked by the intention of a world committed to sustaining this conditioning. This process of indoctrination begins to shape our young personality. All of our values, institutions, familial obligations, and sense of self are creations of the collective dream state. By our agreement to this persistent imposition of conditions, we project a reality in which we become our own judge, jury and executioner. Our words become the weapons of the indiscriminate process by which we spread the toxin of judgment and endless suffering.

Our investment in this illusion of consciousness perpetuates our sense of isolation and separation from the whole. This process, from a psycho/societal view, referred to as identity politics, is the antithesis of a cohesive peaceful society. Identity politics divides and subdivides human beings into an infinite number of categories based on superficial characteristics. This elevation of ego by insidious, subliminal propaganda causes great suffering by creating a false hierarchy of values that celebrates neurosis, negates our humanity and establishes a context for oppression.

Invigorated by this new, liberating model of conscious development, I began to review my personal involvement in the Dream to gain a more rational perspective on my two-spirited condition. In a life changing epiphany, ancient wisdom pierced my heart like a lightning bolt –illuminating the darkness of a life lived in the shadows. The raging river of caustic rhetorical hate and judgment, that had infected my consciousness for so long, was transformed into a harmless trickle that merged with the Tao of knowing.

Like so many indigenous two spirited folks before me, I had entered the world with a Dream of my own. I am one of the few–chosen by the Great Spirit to manifest this noble Two Spirits tradition in a society predicated on lethal sexism. The simple act of being born with equal parts masculine and feminine renders me a social pariah. In a world so heavily invested in the duality, I represent a threat to the power structure– doomed to a life lived in the shadow of mainstream society, or any society at all.

Throughout many years of suffering, I wandered blindly in the darkness of my own illusion. I have survived the perilous conflict between the world Dream and my own   personal dream by deconstructing my sexist conditioning through the lens of my essential humanity. Through the warrior’s act of intention, I have recreated my “self” based on the gift of Two-Spirited medicine that guides me on this personal journey of transcendence. Personality, based on illusory thought–produced by a shared corrupt ego state–burdens me no more. The Dream of the world has lost its steely grip. My spirit shall not yield to the deception.

My life as a two spirited person today is full and rich because I honor myself in my Two Spirits tradition. No longer am I afflicted by the illusion of the duality. Within me, yin and yang are one, undivided–undifferentiated. I am neither this nor that. I represent the unification of the first binary–the primary subdivision that occurs at the moment of birth at the whim of a stranger in white. I reject this arbitrary distinction based on a cursory inspection of my genitalia. I am a human being and that is enough. Endless subdivisions of identification only enhance my separation from other humans.

All sentient beings enter this material plane with the essence of their luminous character momentarily intact. Our consciousness is tabula rasa–a blank slate upon which is written the disparate elements of our future personality. Within minutes of our birth, we are assigned a gender based on our genitalia. At the precise moment of this declaration, the infant is set on one of two very different paths whose parameters determine flux and flow of its life. By the time we reach first year’s end, we are baptized by delusion. The Dream clouds our vision, separating us from the source of our essential brilliance. And we forget.

We forget that before we internalized the identity that causes us to feel the immense pain of separation and isolation we were united as light beings in an energetic dimension of non-duality. We forget because human consciousness produces a false ego-based concept of gendered duality that is perpetually reinforced through violence and other forms of coercion. Before we know what or who we are, sexism becomes the engine of social control. By the dominance/submission agreement into which men and women enter, this dream of sexism creates and perpetuates the suicidal imbalance of power and ensures our future disharmony.

While the dream of sexism continues to inflict pain much of man’s violence toward women cannot be understood in a rational sense. Perhaps this murder by misogyny is man’s way of killing the feminine within himself in an effort to reinforce his self image of manhood. Regardless of the motive, the prevalence of misogyny is the best evidence of our nihilistic tendencies. While the Dream of sexism is too powerful to confront directly, its negative consequences are too destructive to ignore. Until we as a global society are willing to confront this shadow side of our collective unconsciousness, we wobble on the brink of self destruction

. We live in a very potent, extremely perilous time. With the passing of each decade the world, precariously out of balance on the fulcrum of time, slides inexorably into the darkness. With the aid of industrialization and technology, we are losing our humanness under the immense burden of our artificially inflated egos. What we refer to as culture is a euphemism intended to disguise the totality of our conditioned violence   that includes man’s violence against man, against women and against Gaia. We are ‘civilized’ animals who have forgotten what is sacred.

The mysterious, awesome spirit of life that animates and gives meaning to everything ironically empowers the mechanism of its own demise. Unbalanced, unbridled ego imbues the individual with the necessary rationale to commit the senseless destruction of life for the sake of ideology. These are discomforting truths, yet we have no choice but to confront them while we still have our collective human will. As conscious beings, we must take responsibility for our behavior, or perish in our apathy. No longer is it practical to externalize authority. No god will save us-none but the one we find within ourselves.

As spiritual warriors, we must use all of our intention to pierce the veil of illusion that defines our lives, reinforces our sense of separateness, and perpetuates our suffering. For as long as we are dominated by egocentric politics, a fatal imbalance of yin and yang threatens us with extinction. A return to balance requires a commitment to a fearless, non-judgmental exploration of the self from earliest memory. Most of the agreements that we have made since our first moments of life must be broken. Our numerous defense mechanisms, all of our deepest darkest fears, all grasping, and all of our attachments must be reviewed in the context of the Dream. Only when these subconscious negative obstructions melt away will we find the light within ourselves.

If we are serious about becoming a spiritual warrior for the benefit of ourselves and the collective, we must first focus on the healing nature of unconditional self-love.    This can only happen when we break with the subconscious, self limiting agreements of our past. Believe that you deserve love, and with time the many layers of accumulated toxic patterns lose their negative power to dominate us. Your commitment to begin your own healing with the power of love is the most important agreement one can make, for logic dictates that one can not give away something one does not possess. Begin now. Make a vow to love everything about yourself everyday. Demonstrate self-love in every moment with every act.

Personal freedom requires a firm commitment to renounce the oppressive conditioning that leads us into the darkness of despair. I ask that you join me now and everyday as I renew the vows that produce beneficial karma. For the benefit of all sentient beings; I invite you to join me in a vow of non-violence in our words and deeds. I vow to practice compassion toward myself that I may then extend it to others, I pledge to be ever mindful of the rotten fruits of desire, and I will do whatever I must to transcend the illusion of personal identity. Towards that end, I vow to polish the mirrored lens of my spirit that I might reflect the sun’s perfect light that shines within you.

Namaste: The Divine Light in Me Honors the Divine Light within You.

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Greetings, friends and lovers everywhere. Rosie, Love Detour’s resident transexual Goddess of Love and Romance is in the house and ready to expound on the delicacies of transgendered dating.

In the first article on transgenderism I referred to gender as a continuum. On the polar ends of this continuum are trans people who “pass”. Passing is a condition in which the transgendered person blends successfully with one of the two stereotypical genders. Towards the center of the continuum, or bar graph, are people who exhibit androgyny, or characteristics of both genders. This discussion focuses on the first group, for it is trans-passing that can cause confusion in the intimacy of dating.

Those of you who read my first installment on Transgender Dating learned some basic facts about the condition of transgenderism. I ended the first chapter with a promise to help you distinguish the guys from the girls. I mislead you and beg your forgiveness. I was only trying to protect you from the horrible ugly truth, which I must now acknowledge:

There is no way to tell the girls from the guys.

And perhaps even more disturbing to some of you is the very real possibility that you may be rubbing up against a transgender person in your daily activities, figuratively speaking, of course. Yes, dear reader, we walk among you–be not afraid. We mean you earthlings no harm.

To be honest with ourselves, first we must answer some uncomfortable questions about our personal feelings regarding gender. Before you reach the couch, with the drinks and the music and mood lighting, you absolutely must know how you feel about gender.

Gender is about how you as an individual express your sexuality. The power of gender is its inherent diversity. On a huge canvas, we paint our sexuality with our gender. Some of us use only black and white and some of us use all the colors of the rainbow. Bigotry and prejudice aside, gender is cosmic play.

In a technical sense, everyone is a cross dresser. Women liberated by their role as factory workers in the Second World War, began wearing pants and never looked back. Kilts are the rule for Scottish men. There simply are no global standards for gendered behavior, and this truth renders the whole subject a matter of complete relativity.

The truth about this whole discussion is that it is about you and your attitudes towards sex and gender. In this wonderfully diverse world, there is some one, or two depending on your proclivities, for everyone. Some religions that mistakenly judge trans-folk as immoral frown on members dating transgender people. Some men even murder transgender people out of fear of being accused of being homosexual, despite the reality that transgendered people are not necessarily gay. Because gender has nothing to do with sexual preference, trans-folk may be hetero-, homo-, or bisexual.

.It is unlikely in the extreme that your date will tell you at the outset that they are trans. And that information may be the very thing you need to know before embarking on a relationship. Asking a non-transgendered person, if they are a trans is worse, socially speaking, than asking an overweight woman if she is pregnant. Both questions immediately establish an uncomfortable distance between you and your date–a distance that may be irreparable.

Perhaps the only thing worse than that scenario is finding out after physical intimacy that your partner was a member of the same sex as you at some point in their past. We cannot give our potential dates a questionnaire that inquires as to the nature of their former genitalia.

“Do you have or have you ever had genitalia of the opposite sex?” will not score points regardless of the answer. This dilemma can only be resolved by serious soul-searching regarding your deepest darkest fears regarding sexuality. An open minded, open-hearted, educated approach to gender is, of course, the best policy.

Thus, we have slogged bravely thru the quagmire of sex and gender. If you are more confused now than before you read my article on transgender dating, then all is well for out of confusion comes clarity. For more education on this subject, websites abound. Here are three great sites to get you started:

http://www.jamisongreen.com/jgassoc_006.htm http://www.hrc.org/issues/transgender.asp

http://www.ifge.org

And of course, I am available to answer all of your transgender queries, regarding dating or lifestyle issues. Don’t be shy. Remember, Gender is Play. Gender is fun. Gender is human.

Rosie, The Transgender Love Goddess

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The fine china has been cleared from the table. Wine glasses empty slowly as you and your date idle expectantly on a long, wide sofa, whose deep, rich fabric invites bare skin.

Soft, romantic music plays in the background as the evening sun fades into dusk. In the glow of dim light, casual conversation carves sexual nuance into a pregnant moment, as your desire rises forcefully from within your bosom.

A gloriously romantic scene sets the stage for the final act. A hand lightly brushes a knee, you tell a naughty joke and your date laughs. The moment is right. Your eyes meet. And with grave implication, your date holds your expectant gaze and whispers.

“I’m a transsexual”.

HUH? What the…?Wait!

You have just received the briefest tidbit of some horrible information, instantly altering the romantic paradigm of moments before.

“You’re a what?” you shriek as you not-so-subtly cover your crotch with a couch pillow. You’re not sure what a transsexual is, but you’re pretty sure they are regulars on the Jerry Springer show. And that makes it BAD NEWS.

“I’m a transsexual”

‘OH MY GOD! What’s a transsexual?” you shriek. “Will I get some horrible disease? Am I gay?”

Relax. Calm down. Transsexuals and transgendered people live and walk among us as they have done for centuries.

My name is Rosie and I am a proud post-operative transsexual woman. My purpose, as an Expert for LoveDetours is to generally demystify the condition of Gender Identity that includes a wide range of beautifully diverse gendered expression. It is my intention to provide you with an educated perspective that will preclude the sort of disastrous scenario that I described in the first two paragraphs of this article. By the time you have completed your gender education in the following pages, you will be prepared to confront your next encounter with gender diversity with tact and sensitivity.

To demystify the concept of transsexualism and transgenderism, we must first achieve a clear understand of the real nature of gender. Simply put, gender exists between the ears whereas sex is between the legs. Gender is the unique expression of where one finds oneself on the gendered continuum between the idealized, absolutes of masculine and feminine.

You’ll notice that in the previous sentence, I referred to “idealized absolutes’. Since the beginning of time, largely due to the limits of language, we humans have conceptualized our world in terms of a dichotomy: black and white, good and bad, hot and cold, and of course male and female. While this over-simplification makes for effective conversation, it fails miserably when used to describe human sexuality.

Along the broad continuum of human psych-social development, the truth is that we all contain biological components of both sexes .In fact; all human beings begin life as genetic females. Then over the course of our fetal development, male and female differentiation occurs generally along predictable lines. Males, with the help of the testosterone, develop deeper voices, bulky muscles, a propensity for body hair. Woman, due to estrogen biology, have higher voice pitch and resonance, smoother muscles and much less body hair. In this way, with the use of hormones, the body guides the sexual development throughout infancy, puberty and adolescence.

It is important to note that, while this process produces a mold for the differentiation of humans into two visually distinguishable sexes, infinite variations in the process, called brain sex, produce a wide variety of personal expression in the final product. This complex combination of sex determinants sets the stage for the development of gender identity.

Simply put, gender identity is personality’s relationship with the body. Within the myriad expression of our sexuality is the essence of gender. The antiquated concept that behavior must conform to expectations based solely on the existence of one’s genitalia is no longer workable.

Gender expression is a tale of mystery written by the hand of psycho-social development. Masculine and feminine are the parts we play on the stage of life. Generally speaking, gendered behavior corresponds to one’s sexual determinants. People with male genitalia express male gendered behavior. Conversely, people with female genitalia engage in female gendered behavior. However, if we feel it is important or necessary to maintain these strict categories to define people, we must have a firm definition of precisely what is appropriately gendered dress and behavior. No such definitions exist.

If you doubt the veracity of the previous statement, I beg of you to challenge it by asking as many people as you can to define male and female. If they make it past that question, then ask them to explain the difference between masculine and feminine and watch as their brains fry in the attempt. Here are the standard definitions of male and female from the FreeDictionary [http://www.thefreedictionary.com/]   :

male  (ml)

adj.

1.

a. Of, relating to, or designating the sex that has organs to produce spermatozoa for fertilizing ova.

b. Characteristic of or appropriate to this sex; masculine.

c. Consisting of members of this sex.

2. Virile; manly.

fe·male  (fml)

adj.

1.

a. Of or denoting the sex that produces ova or bears young.

b. Characteristic of or appropriate to this sex; feminine.

c. Consisting of members of this sex.

Any alien visitor to earth who read this description of the distinction between male and female would exit the planet shaking their heads in confusion

Fortunately, in the global sense we have no fixed definition of appropriate gender. The rules for gender vary widely from culture to culture–decade to decade. In the new millennium, men wear pink colors in clothing, earrings, long hair and nail polish. Women have always been more liberated in their ability to express themselves. Since World War II, women have been wearing pants, which would have been heresy only a few years prior to the war.

Transgendered is the umbrella category for all people who do not conform to gendered expectations of society. Transgender people express a gendered identity that does not conform to the stereotypical expectations of their natal sex. They express their identification through a variety of characteristics, such as hair, clothes mannerism, and speech. Transgendered behavior or more specifically transcendent gendered expression transforms the muddy waters of gender from a wading pool into an ocean of gendered possibilities.

While this broad category of gender–diverse expression includes a wide variety of personal expression, we will confine ourselves in this discussion to those most pertinent descriptions of gender identity and their impact on dating. What you want to know is exactly how to tell the girls from the boys to avoid the situation described in the beginning of this article.

Learning how to tell the guys from the gals these days IS a challenge. But I can help. Stand by for the next in a series of articles on Avoiding a Transsexual Moment.

From Sista Rosie,

The Church of Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering [  Transsexual Patron Saint of Atheists Everywhere]

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My “official” transition began in 1994 in Jacksonville, Florida. 1995 found me relocating, perhaps fleeing is a more honest appraisal, from Florida to Albuquerque, N.M. in an effort to escape the oppressive effects of the bible belt mentality.    There is also some intangible weirdness that develops when one begins gender transition right in front of the people who only knew us in our disguises.    Somewhere in that strange murky, grey space I lost much of my past.   Sadly, the people I had hoped might at least join me in my struggle to be myself had all disappeared.   Their absence left a large hole in my heart .

I had lived in Santa Fe for a couple of years in the mid eighties and had fallen in love with the land and it’s quirky denizens.    The more I thought about it, the more it called to me.    It whispered of star filled nights and safe haven.   I inexplicably knew that I was being drawn to this enchanted land the way a moth is drawn to the light.    As I contemplated this latest dogleg on my spiritual path, I began to look forward to returning to such a unique and culturally diverse place.   My destiny awaited me in that beautiful desert and knew that I must go.

As careers go prior to 1994 I had been employed more times than I could recall. I lost count at one hundred fifty. I had done quite a few things that I’m sure I repressed due to trauma of having to do men’s work and pretending to like it.    There’s just so much a transexual can take before a hissyfit meltdown.   I mean, my god I had dirt under my nails for years! Can you imagine? Oh it was HORRID!

The year 1995 was a chaotic time of sorting packing, saying goodbye and watching my breasts intently for the first sign of expansion.   By 1996 I had settled in Albuquerque and faced the daunting prospect of finding work as a transperson.    The first thing I noticed was the lengths people went to hide their emotional reaction while they were trying to figure out how to dismiss me.    The second thing I noticed was how many people dismissed me.

Between nineteen-ninety six and nineteen-ninety nine, I was most often employed as a caregiver in the field of developmental disabilities.     I enjoyed the many challenges it had to offer and resigned myself to making seven dollars an hour in service to those less fortunate.    Eventually I became aware of an opportunity to work with troubled, at risk youth.    I grew excited at the prospect of working with angry .teens.    I understood anger intimately.    Who is better to deal with this than the ‘angry transexual‘ I reasoned.

As I began my preparation for what I hoped would be a fruitful interview, I allowed myself to feel really positive for the first time in a long time.   I had good reason to feel confident,. I had prepared a portfolio of all job interiew prerequisites: a verifiable work .history in a related field, excellent references, related training courses etc.   I even passed a drug screen- something I had passionately eschewed for my entire life adult life.    Such was the sacrifice I was prepared to make.. Yup, things were looking up.    Maybe this new life wasn’t going to be as tough as I thought.    So on the appointed day of my interview, I put on my best face and with more courage and optimism than I thought one transexual could possibly muster, I sallied forth to face the two supervisory types who held my immediate future in their hands..

We sat in a typical conference room on typically hard plastic chairs across a typically plastic conference table.   I was confident, enthusiastic…ready!    I can do this.  I thought.   I eagerly anticipated their challenging array questions that I would handle so deftly. Perfunctory introductions out of the way, the female half of the interviewing team, Ms. Smith, seemed to hesitate for a moment.    She gave the impression of a wary explorer, cautiously creeping up to the edge of an abyss to risk a glance into the eternal darkness of the a bottomless pit.     She cleared her throat nervously and asked me the one question that I could not have prepared to answer

“ Ummm….this is uh….well please understand that we don’t mean to be indelicate about this but we were wondering …uh just exactly what is between your legs..?”

“ I beg your pardon?”    What she really said was ‘Where are you in your transition?‘ The difference is negligible.   With one casual, blatantly sexist question, I had been stripped naked and reduced to a sex object.

Mrs Smith drove the knife a little deeper,   “ The thing is uh, Mary Jo, who you may recall having supervised in another company,….well anyway she said that one day while you were monitoring her she saw your testicles when you crossed your legs.”

Huh?    The Titanic had just made the acquaintance of the iceberg and the iceberg held the upper hand.  I was stunned.    First by the implication that I would spread my legs far enough for anyone to see the last wretched remnants of my disappearing masculinity, and second by the realization  that the interview had begun with an accusation made by a client who had a documented history of pathological lying.    This was almost too much to bear and we were still on the first question.     Hours ticked by with each second….the silence was deafening.

Somehow I managed to pick my lower jaw up from the table and with sufficient incredulity said ” I can’t believe you are asking me this!   Could you please tell me what this has to do with anything?      I mean I don’t recall in reading the formal job description that genital verification was mandatory.   I would st least worn fresh panties.”

Mrs. Smith squirmed ever so slightly and tentatively proceeded to explain the finer points of the company policy.    ” Well….uh you see it’s mainly to protect us from lawsuits. we have a policy thatr guarantees our clients and their guardians an appropriate match regarding gender….you know boy to boy and girl to girl.” A look of smug self satisfaction settled slowly over her face.    She looked like a housecat who had just cornered a mouse for supper.    Except in this case the mouse was not prepared to capitulate.

“This is really quite amazing,” I screeched.   ” How do you decide who’s male and who’s female?    Is it company policy to check the genitals of everyone who applies? Or do you just wait till a client needs a reason to persecute someone like me?    If there are only two categories of humans then I must fit into one or the other. And if I don’t fit into those two categories maybe we need to create a third one for the rest of us.”   

I was on a roll and my anger felt fine as it rose from my transexual heart.    I forged ahead with evangelical zeal.    I had their attention and I was determined to exploited it to the fullest. I shifted my focus to Mr. Jones, the male half of the interviewing team.    I had met Mr. Jones, an Afro-American, previously during orientation where he was responsible for teaching us the code of ethics associated with client rights.     As it turned out the disabled have more constitutionally protected rights than transexuals.

“I must say that I am very disturbed by the realization that I represent the only minority whose character can be questioned on the basis of our genitalia.   Surely you must know that transgendered people are the only minority in this country who are not protected from discrimination by federal law.     Beyond that your company’s mission statement, so noble in language that seems to promote the rights of all people obviously falls short of protecting the transgendered.”

I felt the pride of eloquence rising in my bosom. I was saying things that I had previously only thought to myself.. For a brief exhilarating moment I felt empowered as as a transperson.     A ponderous silence fell over the room. and the tension was palpable.    In my heart and soul I held closely to the hope that I had touched these two people and impressed them with my need for validation. and gainful employment.    The looks on their faces, corporate masks temporarily forgotten, told me that they had indeed understood my plight..

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat and glanced at me furtively, “Well … I do sympathize with your predicament Rose,  when I worked for the company back in Oklahoma, the company agreed to to provide gay foster parents for a gay client. But this…..I, I just don’t know .”

Whoa!  Hoooold on thar a minute.   So gay people good, trans people bad?    I didn’t really know what to make of her declaration.    I had started out with a wealth of optimism.     Suddenly my confidence had turned to confusion.    Success, once so imminent, had taken wing, only to be replaced by the practical notion that I would somehow be better off gay.   Still I clung tenaciously to the my last morsel of hope while the evil wind of despair rustled in the distance.

“So where do we go from here”, I asked tentatively.

“Don’t worry, Rose, we’ll find a place for you.”

And so, testicles not withstanding, I was hired as a ‘probationer”    But only after I made repeated calls in an effort to torture them into giving me a chance to prove myself. Then I panicked.    Failure was familiar territory for me.    Success was trickier.    Success require the application of character. I knew that I had passed the preliminaries but the gauntlet of fire lay directly ahead.

All this pressure to gain employment was mere folly compared to the reality of trying to interact positively with these future masters of mayhem.    Many of them had one foot in the group home and the other in youth detention. Ah yes, it was indeed a challenge befitting my unique collection of talents.    After all, who is better acquainted with anger than a transexual.

Alas, fate is a cruel dictator if it is anything and as it turns out this was the epitome of the psychic masturbation .   A one act play with a disappointing denouement.    One day before the end of my probationary period I was summoned to my superior’s office and terminated. Apparently the main reason was the fact that I was a transexual.

The company’s reason for terminating me was never stated.   It quickly became apparent to me that I was expected to understand that since they were not legally required to employ me as a tranitioning transexual I was imminently expendable.    I was a liability from the outset and a few complaints from the paying customers, the parents, clients or both, was more than enough justification for my dismissal.   Blatant discrimination and sexism aside, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the immense irony of it all, but then irony my middle name.

And in the words of a master of irony, Groucho Marks

 ”I would not join any club that would have someone like me for a member.”

I think…no wait, is that right?

 

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I just finished watching a BBC documentary about Transsexuals in Iran entitled “Be like Others”.      Several issues presented in the film affected me deeply.    First, Iranian transsexuals have no idea what life is like here for their brother and sister trans.    The censorship is second only to Iran’s male dominated, authoritarian society that has decreed that homosexuality is a perversion and Transsexualism is a birth anomaly.

How they arrive at this decision derives from the Koran that vilifies homosexuality and does not mention trans.    Perhaps because when the Koran was written, like the Bible, there were no trans people. or if there were, they were so heinous as to be ignored by the men who wrote those books.   My guess is that we transsexuals are a more modern development.

Back to the documentary, Iran is one of the most sexist and therefore sexually repressive regimes in the modern world.    And if there is a more repressive place, I don’t even want to know about it.    The reality of this distinction, this weird reversal of fortune, is that If you are truly trans, you get more help and support in Iran than here in the land of the free.      Financial support for the operation, short-term facilities for recovery, an instant birth certificate and most likely a life of quasi respectability including legal marriage.

But Allah help you if you were born homo. You’ll be lucky to escape alive. Talk about a weird cultural shift…

I blame The Dream. Read about it HERE          http://02f0972.netsolhost.com/

The dream creates and reinforces Gender as a condition of our humanity.     And the rules, the conditions are written by men.    Now and then, global culture represents the hopes and fears of human beings in the context of a Male dominated society.      Thus morality and ethics are relativistic concepts as determined by testosterone driven consciousness.       Therefore if something is abhorrent to men, those things eventually become abhorrent to the rest, whether there exists justification or not.    Indeed social mores are either designed by male thinking or rejected by the same.

No more or less justification exists for transsexuals as for homosexual behavior. But religion is not, nor has ever been a bastion of scientific or  critical thinking. And the only proof that Iran needs to condemn an entire subgroup to a life of shame and misery is the Koran.    They are not alone in their moral duplicity. All major, patriarchal religions, all religion, uses a “holy book’, which only they as men are allowed to interpret.

The fact that religion post dates gender expression does not matter to religion at all.      Religion specializes in rewriting history to satisfy the institutions of Male hegemony across a global setting. And because men are bigger and stronger, they re also bullies.    Not all men are bullies,  but the same fear that permeates the global trans community silences more sensitive men who might support other’s human rights.

The concept that a state of any kind holds the power to determine gender expression with the ever constant threat of violence is a symptom of social engineering destined to fail.  Nature does not and never will conform to our expectations.  Diversity is the foundation of creation.     Only through the myopic human projection of culture, programmed into every living cell, do we sanctify these predominance of binary gender.  Gender follows the same linguistic pitfalls of the concept of god:  Everyone knows what it is but no one can describe or define it.    Yet because of gender’s importance as a tool of social control, we are light years away from a true humanist solution.

Turning gay and lesbians into post op transsexuals and transsexuals into prostitutes is not only a human rights abuse issue in the guise of religion, it is the best example of violent sexist male dominant culture in the not so civilized world.

The somber end of the documentary included a scene where a post op Iranian woman describe her life so similar to mine.    Rejected by her family, she turned to a life of ‘temporary marriage’ -little more than state sanctioned prostitution and described her inability to love.  She broke down and cried as she felt the loneliness and abandonment that I know so well.    And I cried with her…for all of us.

SISTER POWER

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Confession:  I‘ve been doing it for years and it hurts more every time I do it.  No, it’s not masturbation or any other painfully gratifying form of self absorbing behavior.   In fact, it’s much less satisfying than any of those other things you may now be fantasizing about.

I’m referring to the venerated independent news program called ‘Democracy Now’, currently broadcast on Free Speech Television.   For at least ten years I have been waiting with bated brain for some morsel, a mere smidgen of a reference to the plight of America’s invisible minority–the transgendered population.

Many years ago when I still believed in the power of the press, I held out hope for an independent news broadcast that would disdain the lives of the rich and powerful.  In the early days of Democracy Now, I theorized that the act of monitoring the show over time would yield a percentage of coverage relevant to transgendered issues. I am apparently too optimistic. Now  it seems that even the power of the independent press, which was once synonymous with the power of the people, has been usurped.

For all of these years that I have been l have been monitoring  Amy Goodman and ‘Democracy Now’, I have waited patiently, with very little jaw grinding accompaniment, for the compassionate Ms. Goodman to join the tiny crowd of voices screaming for transgendered justice.    Unfortunately of late, my confidence in Ms. Goodman notwithstanding, I’ve grown suspicious of the  passivity of my television watching habits, and resolved to do some research that might my prove my  observational skills incorrect. Unfortunately, a little research merely confirmed  my perception.

WE’RE SKEWED!

A visit to the Democracy Now website  http://www.democracynow.org proved revealing:  A search for sex and gender  related terms, beginning with the year 2000, showed 538  instances of the word ‘gay’, 175 instances ‘lesbian’,  thirty-four results that mentioned transgender and nineteen results for ‘LGBT’,  all but one of which were exclusively gay related.  Last and apparently least in the eyes of the progressive media, the subject of transsexualism ranked the lowest with a dismal five stories.

]No, it’s not a typo, I counted five stories on transsexualism over a period of more than a decade, of which two were repeats of the transgender related stories.

Another story was an interview of Michael Eric Dyson including brief mention of the need for inclusion of the GLBT community by the church. Dyson’s point of view was contrasted by another article, from 2008 that described Pope Benedict XVI’s case of extreme homo/trans phobia. The earthshaking, yet quasi-compassionate sounding headline appeals to not one but two darker aspects of the human consciousness, fear and the pride of ignorance.

Pope: Homosexuality Could Lead to Self-Destruction of Human Race

http://www.democracynow.org/2008/12/23/headlines#12

And last, a blurb about the former city manager of Largo Florida who was fired for beginning a gender transition on the job:

City Officials in Florida Fire Transsexual City Manager

http://www.democracynow.org/2007/3/26/headlines#18.

My point in mentioning these stories is to expose their inherent banality and complete lack of a rational, humanistic approach to an emerging phenomenon that means life or death to so many people whom I refer to as the ‘invisible minority’.–invisible because of the violent enforcement of sexism as it frames the gender binary. There are actually two subsets of this socially reinforced invisibility.

The most familiar of these two groups, ironically,  are transgendered people who live lives of stealth, whose goal in life is simply to ‘pass’ as a member of their  innate, internal self identified gender out of the very real fear of the violence that often accompanies judgment and condemnation.   Comprising the rest of this ‘invisible’ minority is the countless number of humans who repress the expression of an alternate gender identity out of the very  real fear of degradation and ostracism

Not only do these crimes against minorities rarely see the ink of major news outlets, according to the TRANSGENDER LEGAL DEFENSE AND EDUCATION FUND,    http://transgenderlegal.org/page.php?id=60,  culpability by mainstream news agencies,  for the ongoing persecution of TLGB  people spills out in random waves over a broader section of the populace

“Inaccurate hate/bias crime reporting can unintentionally support a blame-the-victim strategy. Personal assaults and criminal acts may only involve a single victim, but perpetrators often intend them to send a message that LGBT people are legitimate targets for abuse, harassment and violence.  (In fact, the victims of some anti-gay hate crimes are heterosexuals who are thought to be gay.  In 2008, 9% of all victims reporting anti-LGBT violence to the NCAVP identified as heterosexual.)

THE DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

On November 20th of each year, the transgender community holds a vigil celebrating the lives of individuals of predominantly transgender people. The commemoration is  known by the TLGB community as the Transgender Day of Remembrance, completely ignored in  the archived pages of  ‘Democracy Now’ or anywhere else, is a peer collaborative effort to  …

… memorialize those who were killed due to anti-transgender hatred or prejudice. The event is held in November to honor Rita Hester, whose murder in 1998 kicked off the “Remembering Our Dead”  web project and a San Francisco candlelight vigil in 1999. Since then, the event has grown to encompass memorials in dozens of cities across the world.

A review of the website The Transgender Day of Remembrance, http://www.transgenderdor.org/?page_id=192 dedicated to creating a heightened awareness over the hate crimes, is a daunting experience.   The cumulative numbers  no doubt under report the grim stats.   Yet they remain very disturbing from a humanist perspective. From 1970 to November of 2009, 305 people were murdered here in the United States for the fatal error of being unique in their personal expression.   America, ever competitive in all forms of endeavor, can be proud of its hate, for in the entire world there were only 276 hate murders for the same period.   Although, the similarity of the global figures are suspect due to a myriad of inhibiting religious and cultural implications of reporting hate crime, the grand total of people murdered for the mere expression of gender alternatives globally was 581.

NO REST FOR WARY

Hate is like a mutant virus that thrives in the darkness of societal bigotry.  Nurtured in the infected test tube of the nuclear family, it poisons the heart of all who allow it into their system. Hate toxifies the mind with the bitter rhetoric of societal condemnation, so often based on fear-mongering and a perceived threat to the male dominant hierarchy. Yet the persistence of  hate motivated crimes against the transgender community is consistently ignored by this show, Democracy Now,  that proclaims to support democracy.

We need not look very far at all for a recent example. During the week that I wrote this post, the news comes that Uganda is on the verge of making homosexuality, and no the doubt transgendered lifestyle, a crime punishable by death. This story like so many others received no mention by mainstream media…or Amy Goodman.

The blatant omission of this very newsworthy story speaks loudly about this culture’s lack of concern for human rights and  begs the question WHY. Why are we as a global transgendered minority consistently ostracized and marginalized by a purportedly progressive media  whose archival programming reveals it to be, more accurately, moderate or slightly to the left of center?    Sadly, we  are left to guess at the answer.   But  we can safely deduce that this fatal omission lies in the mentality of those who make the programming decisions-and typically,  they lack the courage to speak their truth.

The act of omitting the coverage of rampant, widespread hate crimes against  any group, especially by  so-called progressive media news outlets like ‘Democracy Now’,   is tacit complicity in the application of oppression, PERIOD.  It is analogous to the act of witness murder from a distance, and using that distance as a rationale for doing and saying nothing that might implement justice.  With the inherent power of the media to influence public attention  in the 21 rst century , the act of non-reporting indirectly condones the suffering of a vast global minority.

For all my years of faithful watching and listening to‘Democracy Now’   I have eagerly  anticipated a show about democracy, small ‘d’, whose stories focused on human rights abuses of the transgendered minority populations  of  the global culture. For a brief, shining moment, with the emergence of the ‘Free Speech Television Network,  http://www.freespeech.org  I allowed myself a thread of hope.  Yet the genre of programming that  I have long  envisioned  has not arrived–neither in mainstream, nor alternative culture.  Then the question remains , if not ‘Democracy Now’ for transgendered people, with innocent lives at stake… can we afford to wait for “Democracy Someday”?

Amy, why have you forsaken me?

Amy Goodman did not respond to our requests for comment.

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