My Trans Pride Flag

My flag was purchased by Spouse more than 2 years ago, along with a rainbow flag and a nonbinary one. It’s a full size lightweight nylon trans pride flag, with 2 brass rivets. It’s starting to fade, but my affection for it only grows.

This flag has been my cape through Pride celebrations, the J20 protests and the Women’s March on Washington, plus about a dozen street protests in Chicago. It waved proudly on a pole when Spouse took it to a beautiful trans rights protest. It hung on the end of my bunk when I was a counselor for trans kids at summer camp last summer, and adorned my co-counselor for a camp event.

It’s been washed once. It needed to be, especially after that long weekend in DC last year. Gently washing it didn’t remove the original fold lines, they’re still there along with a thousand new wrinkles – kind of like me.

This flag currently hangs in the east facing window in my summer apartment. I am working 800 miles from home this summer, in a tiny town where I know nobody. When I got to my little apartment it was crystal clear where the flag would go – proudly covering the place where the sun will come up each day. After what I’ve gone through hanging a pride flag in the window is a joy. It’s barely visible from the street, but I don’t care. I know it’s there, and when I wake up in the morning my flag glows with sunshine.

This weekend I am going to Pride in New York City, and the weekend after that I will protest in Washington DC. My fading but proud flag will ride my shoulders again, through that and all summer. As it, and I, become increasingly worn we will keep flying with pride.

My Trans Pride Flag

How Do We Support Survivors in a Sea of Triggers?

CN: Sexual harassment, sexual assault, abuse.

Like many of my friends I am glad that many serial abusers and harassers, in a range of powerful positions, are being named and actually facing real consequences these days. I want those who perpetrate these crimes to suffer consequences for their action, and I am grateful to have seen an increase in support for their accusers.

However, this atmosphere of constant discussion of abuse in media, social conversations, and online comes at a cost for many of us. Especially for survivors of exactly the kinds of crimes that are being talked about on a daily basis the incessant stream of accusations, discussions, and media attention can be draining and deeply painful.

I am a multiple experience sexual assault survivor. On a day to day basis an occasional news story about sexual assault, or a discussion about harassment on a friend’s Facebook wall is a fairly manageable experience for me. Mostly I want to be supportive of other survivors and can often wait to read such things until I am in a good frame of mind (Content/trigger warnings really help this). I have occasionally been pretty seriously triggered by media but that’s not a common experience for me.

But that is my experience in the old world, the one in which weeks or months would go by between reports that various powerful men were being accused. I got a chance to heal a little between major news (or personal) stories about harassment and assault. Once I got more involved in social justice and feminist movements I definitely became a bit more raw – I heard more about people’s experiences, so I struggled a bit more with them. Until recently this was manageable.

Frankly, lately it isn’t.

I’ve been struggling with depression and fear that is deepened daily by report after report of harassment and assault. Every time I pull up my Facebook page, my Twitter feed, my podcasts, any radio, or glimpse the TV in the lobby at school I am faced with experiences that remind me of my own. There were no trigger warnings on the conversation around the table at Thanksgiving dinner, nor any way to catch up on other news without also getting a flood of these stories.

Throughout all of this I have still had to go to work and go to school, fulfill my household obligations, and otherwise act as if everything is fine. It’s not fine, I’m not fine, and things are slipping. I am certain I am not the only one struggling like this. This moment is painful for many survivors.

So my question is this: How do we support survivors of harassment, assault, and rape in moments like this where the world is a sea of discussion about the topic? Obviously not talking about it isn’t helpful, because a lack of attention is part of what got us here in the first place. When we are, as a culture, having this necessary conversation, what should we also do to ensure that we are not unnecessarily re-traumatizing those we wish to support and protect?

Some of us have our own experiences very much at the forefront of our minds right now, but few places to discuss those thoughts that actually feel safe. If you are emotionally able to be a place to just listen to the thoughts of the survivors in your life, say so. Be prepared to listen without judgement, or an attempt to fix things. Frankly, being a survivor right now can feel oddly isolating and lonely, and if you can just listen right now it would be great if you would.

On the other hand, many of us also need some space away from the topic entirely. If you can create social spaces to talk about ANYTHING ELSE, that may really help the survivors in your life. Be explicit about the fact that you’re creating a “no talking about the news” kind of zone, and focus conversations on other topics for awhile. Doing so in a way that actively seeks to include survivors helps.

If you are able or willing to do these things, remember that you may not know who the survivors in your life are. If you are able to reach out in a way that is somewhat public, and let folks know you want to create these kinds of spaces, that’d be really helpful too.

Do you have other suggestions about how to support survivors right now? I’d love to hear them.

How Do We Support Survivors in a Sea of Triggers?

Metapost: Where The Heck is Benny?

So… it’s been awhile since I posted. While I’m tempted to apologize for that, I’m trying not to because honestly I needed this time. But I do want to take a moment to explain what’s up, and what will be up with this blog in the near future.

First of all, I’m swiftly approaching my graduation from University. In anticipation of that graduation this past few months has been incredibly busy – I quit my job in March, submitted my research thesis, applied to several graduate schools, have been applying for jobs for after graduation, all while doing my last quarter of classes. I’ve also been working several part time jobs, and calling my representatives regularly, going to protests when possible, and catching season 2 of Sense 8. I frankly haven’t had time to write.
Continue reading “Metapost: Where The Heck is Benny?”

Metapost: Where The Heck is Benny?

Phone Calls After My Uncle’s Death

CN: Suicide, grief, family stuff

My uncle died by suicide, last Monday. Mom called to tell me that night. It wasn’t totally unexpected, though I know Mom and others tried very hard for a long time to help. I was never close with him, haven’t seen him in around 20 years, and we weren’t close while I was growing up. For ME, this isn’t a personal loss.

But for Mom it is clearly a profound loss. She sounded vulnerable and heartbroken on the phone on Monday in a way I don’t think I’ve really heard from her before. It was, I think, the first time she ever really reached out to me for emotional support. She called me before my brother. She didn’t call to pass on information. She called because she needed to hear that I’m safe, that I love her, and that I’m here for her.

I told her I’m so sorry. I told her I love her, and that Spouse and I are safe and well. I told her I’d come to the funeral with her if she wanted (she doesn’t want me to, for complicated but good reasons). I told her to let me know if there is anything else I can do. I told her that I unfortunately know something about going through this kind of loss, and I know it’s particularly hard.

I never want to hear that pain in Mom’s voice again. I wish I could protect her from all of the loss that is likely to come in her life as she ages. But I am also so grateful to have the kind of relationship with her now that she will call me when she needs comfort. I want to be here for her. Mom and I struggled and worked hard to build a good relationship. My childhood was hard and we were adversaries much more often than allies. As time passes we continue to learn and grow, now as more than just allies, but as companions.

I ache for Mom’s loss, and for the pain my uncle must have been in. I am also incredibly grateful that she and I are in a place now where I can be there for her. Families are complicated, but I am glad I have mine.

Phone Calls After My Uncle’s Death