Can This Be True?

This clip is amazing and depressing. If true, it leaves me wondering if we now have a Bush III in office.

Think about it. The same policies as Bush; just under a new name - and, if this video is true (his awful budget is), taken to a greater extreme. Only this time, the guy who's making this stuff up is intelligent, articulate, and charismatic.

Scary.

I picked it up on a right-wing blog, so who knows? It's Rachel Maddow, though, not Rush, so I'm inclined to believe it.

Unfortunately.

Trans Woman Abroad: Part I – traveling and family

I didn't know what to expect. It's the first time I've traveled back to Wyoming since my transition, and many people here know me by my former name; none as Seda. And this is the heart of Bush country. (Okay, maybe not the heart, but the last time a Democrat won in Wyoming was probably before FDR.)

The first surprise came in the process of getting there. I took the train to Portland, then the bus to the airport, then a stop in Denver until finally renting a car in Rapid City. I met and spoke with a lot of people, and I only got "sir'd" once during travel, at security on the way home – and then the TSA employee right behind him immediately and pointedly called me "ma'am." And only once did I get the repeated double take that means someone wasn't sure and was trying to figure out if he was talking to a genetic male. That's not to say I was passing almost flawlessly – I don't know how many people clocked me and just didn't care.

At ten o'clock that evening I arrived at the ranch to warm embraces. I sat down at the kitchen table in the old ranchhouse with my family; my mom, my brother and sister-in-law, my nephew, my niece. I ate leftovers from their dinner while we shared laughter and tears, catching up on the events of recent days and months. It wasn't even awkward. My gender wasn't an issue.

The next day, last before the memorial service, I met my nephew who was adopted by a fundamentalist Christian family following Jenny's accident. His embrace was tentative, but I opened to him, and he soon warmed up. His girlfriend embraced me warmly. My niece and I drove to town to do some shopping, and, again, no one blinked an eye. It was "you ladies" and "ma'am," and everything felt natural. At home, the whole bunch of us younger folks worked to help put my mom's yard in order.

On the day of the memorial, my cousins arrived from the Bay Area. It's a pattern that developed with my brother's death in 2001: since then, seems like we only meet at funerals. Frank's, then my uncle's, then my dad's, and now Jenny's. Nevertheless, it's always good to see them – and there's never enough time. And the Nelson's, close family friends for 40 years, whom I haven't seen for ages, also arrived, bringing our gathering to considerable size.

There was so much warmth, so much love, in the gathering of extended family and friends. I am rich and richly blessed.

Soon, I'll write about the memorial service, where I encountered all the old neighbors and friends of my sister and family.

Naivete?

I used to think that common ground could be found between the viewpoints of liberals like me and any conservative Christian out there. All we had to do was connect using Nonviolent Communication to figure out what the other was feeling and needing, and then we could find solutions that work for everyone. That faith has been shaken. The problem is that in order to communicate, you must have two parties interested in communicating; curious about the other, open to at least hearing what the other has to say. And it appears that many Christians are not interested in that; all they want to do is cram their agenda and peculiar lifestyle down our throats.

Then, trolling through the internet last night, that faith took another hit. I clicked on a link on the blog of a Christian k-12 school and, in an article on the WorldNetDaily, I found this ad:

This is intended to be tongue-in-cheek, or "humor" – but they are talking here about torturing another human being, as if it were a sport or a fun, family activity. I wouldn't mind if it were satire, like Jonathan Swift's "Irish Solution," but it's not. In fact, many of the T-shirts are supposed to be humorous, but the humor isn't dry, or witty, or satirical, or even sarcastic. It's vicious and violent. It promotes murder or torture. It seems to represent a single-minded, simple-minded blind faith in GOP and conservative leadership.

When I see things like this, I think that I was wrong. It seems these people are determined to crush LGBT people and liberals completely, and they will not be satisfied until sodomy is recriminalized and schools teach that homosexuality is insane and depraved, that gays must change or die. I think that we are in a battle for our freedom and safety, and it seems that on the other side no quarter is asked or given. So I want to protect my children from this violence, and feel impelled to go further to the left to counter it more strongly. I want to harden my stance, renew my efforts, to counter this … depravity. It pushes me to my own stance of no quarter, of fighting for complete victory regardless of their needs, just to defend my own.

And that's too bad. Because the more decisions come from the extreme fringes, the worse, generally, they are.

Nevertheless, despite my emotional reaction, I will continue to work to find common ground, to build peace, and to seek a way to get everyone's needs met – or at least considered.

Jenny

A few weeks ago, I got a feeling that it was time for me to go back to Wyoming. However, I didn't see how I could justify it. We're just starting an addition and remodel of our house, which we're doing mostly ourselves since we don't have much money. I've maxed out vacation time from work to accommodate that, and financially it just didn't seem possible, or reasonable. Still, it's been three years since I've been back, and I wanted Jenny to meet Seda.

It seems that the Universe had other plans.

Last night my sister died.

Jenny fought off many hardships in her life, but the last seven years were the hardest. In February of 2002, she was in a car accident, and she almost died. She had head injuries, and her back was broken in six places. She was in a coma for three months. The doctors said it was a miracle she survived at all, and that she probably would never regain much cognitive ability. Yet she did. Physically confined to the care only a nursing home could provide, she regained much of her language, memory, and thought processes. Though dealing with periodic medical crises and depression, her sense of humor and willingness to live made her popular among the residents.

Recently another crisis came. She stopped eating, and last night she slipped away.

Jenny was my older sister, two grades ahead of me in school. She first taught me to read when I was maybe five or six years old, and, when I started school, she protected me on the playground. I didn't fit in with the other kids, and I did not easily make friends. Her presence there was a blessing. After she graduated to junior high, my last two years in elementary school were miserable.

We were close as children, but somehow grew apart as adults. Not that we didn't get along – we did – but contact and communication became less frequent. Jenny moved out, and later on got married. She had two children. The young family struggled to get by, and her husband became abusive to the kids and eventually abandoned her, leaving her with two children and no means of support. Her next husband was worse, and a third child came into the world. Jenny dealt with bouts of poverty and abuse, and, in her mid-thirties, finally began to really get her life together. She worked her way through college. She tended bar, she logged, she got a job with the forest service and worked as an archeologist and wildland fire fighter. Finally, just a few years before her accident, she met a responsible, quiet man, and they got married. She had a fourth child after her 40^th birthday, and worked for her local power company. But just as it seemed that things had turned for the best, disaster struck. My brother died in a logging accident on Oct. 4, 2001. Jenny and Frank had always been close, and they had grown closer over the years. His loss hit her hard. Four months later, she was in the accident that changed everything.

That brief summary does not do justice to Jenny's life – to her endurance, her sometimes biting humor, her joy-of-life, her toughness, her love, her generosity, her courage. I don't know how to do justice to that, and there isn't space here anyway. I'm just glad she's my sister. I love you, Jenny, wherever you are, I love you. And I so hope and believe you are at peace.

After Jenny's accident, I felt helpless. I did what I could for my mom, but with two small children and a family to care for, I had to make them my priority. What could I do for my sister? I found something in July, 2004. I started writing her letters. Every Saturday morning from then until last week, I made it a priority to write a letter to her – keeping her abreast of my life, explaining my transition, encouraging her, sharing my thoughts and my fears, my hopes and my love. The communication was one-way – Jenny no longer had the ability to return it – yet in some small way, it connected us. During my last visit, in 2006, she said that she didn't think she could have gone on without them.

Last Saturday, I forgot to write. I forgot to write the letter that she never would have received.

Oh, Jenny, my heart is breaking. I love you. Goodbye for now, sweet sister. We will meet again, on the other side.

Be well. Be happy. Be Love.

Damaging My Children?

In a brief discussion on another blog, someone who calls himself "Eutychus" made this comment: "Divorce damages our children. Are you telling me that (as in your own case) that telling your children that their dad is now their mom, won't?" I've already addressed the first sentence of this comment (which can be summed up as: usually it does, sometimes it doesn't – it depends on the individual family dynamic. Sometimes it saves their lives.) Now, I'll address the second.

Damaging my children was in fact my greatest fear as I started transition. It was also an impetus to "do it now," as I feared the damage and difficulty that might accrue if I managed somehow to make it to their adolescent years presenting as a man, only to transition during their most vulnerable time. (Though that is probably moot, as I doubt that I would be alive now, or still involved with my children, had I not transitioned.)

To my surprise, I found that that fear was completely ungrounded. Instead, all evidence indicates that my transition has only benefited them. They are happy and thriving. They are well-connected with their friends and with both parents. They have not missed their "father" – indeed, Trinidad has more than once expressed his preference for his "Maddy," and both boys share a positive and close relationship with Kristin's partner. They also have close relationships with one of their friend's dad and with their uncle.

Our relationship has deepened and become closer and more meaningful. I think kids instinctively know when you're lying; they sense it, even if they can't articulate it or know it on a conscious level, and it affects trust. They trust me more now. They know I'm authentic, that I share with them the truth of who I am. And I'm more emotionally available and fun; I'm not depressed all the time. They know that they have my unconditional love.

Further, their family is still intact. Kristin's and my partnership continues even as it has changed. We are no longer sexual partners, but we remain parenting, economic, and household partners, and best friends. Through the great care we took, and the deep communication we shared during transition, our friendship and understanding have deepened and become even richer and more meaningful, and we have both grown.

This is not to say that transition does not damage children in all instances. It takes care, love, communication, and honesty. And anyway, all parents make mistakes that damage their children in some way; the point is to limit the damage, to repair it, to build a foundation relationship that can absorb and heal what damage accrues, regardless of the nature, gender, or orientation of the parent. The issue is the same for divorce. An amicable and communicative separation, placing the children at the center of care, is more likely to benefit the children than a bitter, cold, intact family where the adults' needs are so unmet they cannot interact positively with their children. Like most things, one size does not fit all, and blanket statements seeking social uniformity are bound to so many exceptions as to be more harmful than useful. We must learn to be true to ourselves. We must learn to discover what our real needs are, and to find ways to meet them. And, if we are parents, we must find ways to keep the care of our children at the center of our attention. Then, regardless of life circumstances, we can create and maintain meaning, purpose, connection, and love, and give our children the support they need and deserve.

Disorientation

Recently I started reading a book called "Hold On to Your Kids: Why Parents Need to Matter More Than Peers," by Gordon Neufeld, Ph.D. and Gabor Mate, M.D. On page 18, they say, "… The orienting instinct is basic to our nature, even if we rarely become conscious of it. In its most concrete and physical form, orienting involves locating oneself in space and time. When we have difficulty doing this, we become anxious. If on waking we are not sure where we are or whether we are still dreaming, locating ourselves in space and time gets top priority. If we get lost while on a hike, we will not pause to admire the flora and fauna, or to assess our life goals, or even to think about supper. Getting our bearings will command all of our attention and consume most of our energy. … Our orienting needs are not just physical. Psychological orientation is just as important in human development."

As a student of Nonviolent Communication (NVC) (see sidebar), I try to relate the interactions I have with others to the feelings and needs they experience. In most cases, orientation is not clearly a need that is up. We tend to take our understanding of our physical world for granted as we move around our local milieus. However, I think the authors are on to something regarding the psychology of it.

When I first started taking hormones, I felt relief from a low-level anxiety that was so much a part of my experience and psyche I hadn't been aware of it. In its absence, however, it was very noticeable. In speaking with other trans people, I've found similar experiences following their first hormone doses to be universal. If it isn't, that's because I haven't spoken yet to a trans person who hasn't shared this result. In the past, I didn't connect it to the need to orient so much as a need for clarity, but reflecting on the truth of the author's statement, I think I was missing something.

The need for orientation, both physical and psychological, is universal. We all share it. The authors relate it to children, which makes sense in the context of their book, but I suspect that its psychological manifestation continues powerfully throughout life. I wonder how extensively it permeates our psyches and influences our actions, decisions, and lives.

For instance, how does it relate to alcohol and drug abuse? Is the abuse either an instigator or response to a lack of internal orientation? In my own case, prior to orienting around Kristin and transitioning, my abuse was so pervasive I concluded for awhile that I was an alcoholic. However, since transition, I find that drinking enough that I start to feel the effects brings an instant stop to any desire to drink more. I like sobriety much better. Is the psychological orientation found in matching my hormones to my brain responsible for that shift?

An even bigger question arises in relation to religion. Certainly religion is an orienting entity. Many people focus their lives around the larger guiding principles provided by religious texts and authorities. It seems to me that religious authorities often use this orienting need or principle to manipulate their flocks into quite negative directions. People everywhere cling to religion even when scientific evidence refutes religious myth. Hence, Galileo was sentenced to death if he didn't recant his conclusion that the earth revolves around the sun, that the sun is the center of the solar system. In my own case, when I joined the Marine Corps and found myself far from home, disoriented from anything I'd ever known to that time, I fell to the religious (Baptist and Pentacostal) proselytizers who infest military bases, preying on young military personnel in their vulnerability.

I have often wondered about the power of religion. Clearly it meets human needs, but what needs are really up for us when we cling to our faith, even in the face of fallacy, so fiercely? This intense need for orientation, starting with our first breaths, seems to explain it.

How Beautiful My Children Are!

There is this thing – two, actually – that give me such joy in my life. They are my sons, and every morning when they arise they light my day. In fact, Trin is in my lap right now, helping me write this.

Studying
One of the many advantages of unschooling at home is that kids can choose their own desks and learn in comfort!

Reading
Sometimes Sam reads to me. At 6 1/2 years old, he reads at the 8th or 9th grade level. Another advantage to unschooling!

Working
Trin helping with the remodel. The boys are here every day, helping when they can, watching, learning the processes of construction. They're learning all the time. We could send them to school, I suppose, but I really don't want to slow them down that much.

Well, I started this post planning on just talking about how much I love my kids, how much joy they give me, how much meaning they give to my life, and so on, and it somehow turned into a celebration of unschooling! But then, I guess they really are connnected.

A Disappointing Hundred Days

Cabinet choices: Loaded with old Clinton and Bush operatives. No significant new faces, no new ideas.

Foreign policy: Same old same old, just switching the focus from Iraq to Afghanistan. When do we concede that the Empire is unsustainable and start tearing it down before it falls down? At least we got a promise to close Gitmo.

LGBT issues: A proclamation making June Pride Month. A defense of DOMA. A promise to eliminate Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell, but it's still in place, and competent people are still being discharged because of their sexuality. When do words translate into action?

Budget: Total insanity. Not only same old same old, but now digging the hole faster and deeper. The worst budget ever?

War Department: Still spending more than on weapons the rest of the world combined. What kind of karma are we making for ourselves?

Economy: Does anyone in Washington have a clue????

Health Care: Nothing yet.

When I voted for change, I voted for more than a change of tone and a figurehead who can say complex sentences competently.