jaysennettauthor

[jaysennettauthor]

New Post has been published on http://www.jaysennett.com/off-kilter-transsexuality-the-barrel-of-a-gun/

Off-Kilter Transsexuality: The Barrel of a Gun

The War Children Child

In my prehormone college days of Ronald Reagan and the Eurythmics, I possessed a single, simple understanding of men (but only white men, since I lacked any awareness of my whiteness and white privilege): they had the power; women had none.

I walked around the world with this understanding, a belief I had little reason to change. Men just always seemed to come out on top. Even baby girls were penalized. When I lived in Hong Kong with family in the 1970s, I learned that some families in China, driven by Mao’s one-child only policy, wanted boy babies badly enough that they disposed of girl babies, so they could again attempt for a boy, without fear of reprisal from the government.

I heard about this practice when I was about thirteen, a time when menstruation ended a personal myth that I could easily still be a boy — just in a girl’s body — and enhanced my gender dysphoria.

At some level, part of me believed that by becoming a man I would leave all of the gender hate behind, as though misogyny were a problem only for women.

The Barrel of a Gun I

This  singular understanding became challenged in small ways as I got sober. During those years, as I began exploring in a more directed manner how I might address my deeply held belief that I was a man, I met many kind and thoughtful men, some gay, some not, who lived complicated lives and shared these complexities with me.

One man I recall hailed from Alabama and loved doing drag. We were in a group discussing what is the role of a spouse for a recovering partner. The typical advice — directed at women, of course —  to be quiet and give the husband time to stop blacking out, losing jobs, maybe even becoming occasionally physical violent, rankled him.

With shaking hands and a hardness in his jaw, he said, “This is just bullshit. My father drank and beat my mother every day until I got to be old enough for him to beat me after he was done with her.”

“You know when he stopped doing that,” he asked while looking a few people straight in the eye.

“He stopped doing that the day I got his .45, knocked him on his back, shoved the barrel down his throat and told him if he ever touched my mother or me again, I would kill him.”

He leaned forward in a room that was absolutely quiet.

“I can still recall his teeth chattering against that gun barrel.”

His story didn’t elicit any epiphany in me. I didn’t shoot up from chair that night and say, “Oh my gosh! You know what! Things are more complicated than thinking that men always have the power and women don’t.”

Such an admission eluded me. I didn’t even know I maintained such a simplistic understanding of gender, and had no mental framework for sussing out my assumptions.

Hey Faggot! I’m Gonna Kill You!

I just knew I wanted to be a man. Perhaps the belief I describe here played a part in my mission. To deny this seems stupid. But I can’t say for certain. So strong was my sense of dysphoria in my body that notions of power-over played little premeditated role in my desperate need to change my body.

The changes, wrought by hormones, set me on a path which, over these last twenty years, has done nothing short of pulverizing my belief.

Less than two years after starting hormones, people read me as a man, which made me feel fantastic. How to be read as a straight man, though — that didn’t come to me naturally.

People often thought I was gay in those early days , which didn’t bother me at all, until the first time two white guys in a pick up truck tried to run me over in a crossing zone.

“Hey faggot! I’m gonna hunt you down and kill you!”

I shot diagonally across the parking lot and hoped the men wouldn’t see me enter my apartment. Shame and rage ran through my veins.

Why couldn’t I fight back?

Why didn’t anyone fight back for me?

Would I always have to outrun these homophobes? And what if they caught me and found out I was transgender?

After I learned how to hold my body, how to walk and talk like a straight man, theses questions faded for me. What I taught myself was how not to be a victim, or so I thought.

The Barrel of a Gun II, or an Elegy for My Grandfather

The White Ribbon project provided an intellectual framework for understanding that men violate other men, not as much as women, but often enough for men to fear other men.

For years I failed to tie that intellectual understanding not only to the homophobic violence I experienced, but to my grandfather’s murder at the hands of the husband of the woman he had been dating.

This man, like so many intimate terrorists, decided to quell his fear by pulling the trigger on a double-barreled shotgun aimed at my grandfather’s head. I was not yet seven when he blasted my grandfather’s brains out of his skull.

I can recite to you many facts of the case, find the location of his still running car on google maps or tell you about the first time I fired a gun, a 9mm Glock, gobsmacked at how fast I emptied the cartridge.

In all my years of imagining the moment of my grandfather’s slaughter — and this I find more difficult to divulge — I murdered him, several times. Play acting his death, I fired upon my grandfather many times, but not once did I sit behind the wheel of a car, play acting that today might be the day I would die, but I can’t think that because I’ve got to hurry to the hospital to deliver a baby and how I do love that woman waiting in her apartment for me to return from the hospital.

No. I taught myself a long time ago never to be the victim. Better to run up to the car and shoot my grandfather — kill the part of myself that is vulnerable and soft and scared — and grow up believing I am invincible (because if I act it out enough times, it must be true) simply because I am a man.

This belief doesn’t square with the possibility of being killed by homophobes. My ascent to manhood should be a direct ascent to the top with no detours, no assaults by other men.

The Transition Handbook never provided operating instructions or pithy sayings about how to navigate contradictory realities of power and violence that befalls a heterosexual man in late twentieth-century America.

And therapists, had they been less concerned with confirming their own gender and more concerned with actually helping me transition, could have helped but didn’t.

And all those men’s lifestyle blogs and websites? Completely worthless. They’ve never met an emotion that they wanted to explore.

So I’ve learned as most men do in America, by myself and through my wife, a 20-plus years domestic violence advocate.

“Are you asking me if I think you are a victim of domestic violence,” she asked, about five years ago.

“Yes,” I said.

“I do. I do think you are a victim of domestic violence.”

A man who is a victim of domestic violence who has been a victim of homophobic violence who hasn’t always felt very powerful yet knows how much power he has at any given moment on any old day — the contradictions of being transsexual are what would kill most people in the end.

That’s why I’ve always contended that changing genders isn’t for the feint of heart. The weight of so many contradictions proves too burdensome.

Do I think men have all the power all the time?

The dismissals, condescending voice tone, the honeys and sweeties and get me some more coffee, and can’t you just take a joke, backed up by the threat or fact of assaults ranging from unwanted attention to men using their penises as weapons, live and thrive today in the early 21st century.

Some of these men have probably been victims of acts of violence at the hands of other men.

One of the consequences of surviving this type of violence should be a broader understanding of male violence by these same men, and how that violence operates in women’s lives.

But that seems to happen very little. Men always have the option of not talking about it. In fact, we’d prefer that.

What I do know is that men, damaged and broken men, men humiliated and raped by other men, continue to move through the world in mild or pronounced power displays.

Even if I’ve been humiliated by another man, at least I’m not a woman is the lie patriarchy teaches all of us, and has certainly taught me, a transsexual man.

My initial belief that men have all the power hasn’t changed as much as deepened and broadened to understand that the violence, victimization and access to power I’ve experienced are common dynamics of masculinity.

[jaysennettauthor]

New Post has been published on http://www.jaysennett.com/whats-the-point-of-cisgender-anyway/

What's the Point of Cisgender Anyway

The opposite of trans is nontrans.

Nontrans puts trans at the center.

Non allows us to communicate with others. Cis confuses people.

.Do we want to be right or have others understand us?

Do we want to create a strong insider/outsider distinction in our language?

Yes, using non can create the following phrase: She has non privilege.

But the scales tip in favor of non, I think, when we want to single out someone as particularly egregious example of a boor.

She is so non.

Non sounds decisive.

§ § §

Non can mean any of the following in English:

not of the kind or class described. “nonbeliever”

not of the importance implied. “Nonissue”

a lack of. “nonsense”

By stating Jane is non, we say that she is not of us, not important and lacks trans.

Chances are we don’t have to explain what non means to anyone, unless English is a second or third language for them.

Cis can mean any of the following in English

on this side of; on the side nearer to the speaker.”cisatlantic”

historical

on the side nearer to Rome.”cisalpine”

(of time) closer to the present.”cis-Elizabethan”

referring or relating to people whose sense of personal identity and gender corresponds with their birth sex.”cisgender”
.

denoting molecules with cis arrangements of substituents.

By stating Jane is cis, we say that her sex and gender match, which is fine, except then we have these other possibilities.

Is Jane on the side of us?

Is Jane historical?

And we won’t even discuss the possibility that Jane might be a chemistry term.

Besides muddled language, how many people will quickly understand us when we say cisgender?

And after we explain it, how quickly can they mock cis?

Non is hard word to mock.

§ § §

Clarity remains a bedrock of change. I had the honor of volunteering to overturn an antigay ballot inititiatve in Ypsilanti MI in 1998. The co-chairs of the Ypsilanti Campaign for Equality talked with dozens of activists across the country, many of whom had failed in their towns and cities with similar campaigns.

In determining why they failed, the co-chairs realized language played an important role in ballot wins.
The fight was for gay rights. Period. Not human rights or one human family. But gay rights.

Using this language, we defeated the homophobes not once, but twice.

I am not telling anyone what language to use to describe nontrans people. 
I am asking what we achieve by using an ambiguous term requiring explanation that then often leads to mockery.

Who really wins and who really loses?

My memoir Moxie, Vol. 1 will be released later this year.

For prerelease discounts, a free short story and more sign up below

Where can I send your FREE short story?

[jaysennettauthor]

Liberty Street • Ann Arbor, #featureshoot #myfeatureshoot #streetphotographer #street_photographer #streetphotographyworldwide #streetgrammer #streetphotography_bw #streetphoto_bw #capturestreets #life_is_street #lensonstreets #streettogs #reflectiongram #🔴 #ricohgr2 #ricohmafia #streetphotocargo #bnw_lowkey #annarbor #shadowplay #annarborstreetphotography

[jaysennettauthor]

Liberty Street • Ann Arbor, Michigan #colorphotography #streetlife #instacolor #streetphoto #colorfull #streetphotography_color #streetphotography_colour #streetphoto_color #street_photo #wearethestreet #ourstreets #ricohgr2 #ricohmafia #streettogs #annarbor #annarborstreetphotography #nopeople

[jaysennettauthor]

Depit Town • Ypsilanti, Michigan #street_photography #nightlights #blackandwhiteonly #featureshoot #myfeatureshoot #streetphotographer #street_photographer #streetphotographyworldwide #streetgrammer #streetphotography_bw #nightshot #streetphoto_bw I #capturestreets #life_is_street #lensonstreets #streettogs #🔴 #ricohgr2 #ricohmafia #bnw_lowkey #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #streetphotocargo

[jaysennettauthor]

Michigan Ave • Ypsilanti, Michigan #nightstreet #nightshot #nightphotography #street_photography #streettogs #street_photo #streetgrammer #featureshoot #filmnoir #streetphotographyworldwide #highcontrast #blackandwhiteonly #bicycling #ricohmafia #ricohgr2 #bnw_lowkey #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #blackman

[jaysennettauthor]

Making Art in a Time of Rage

Sign up for our mailing list to keep in touch: http://eepurl.com/bu2DYH

[jaysennettauthor]

Alley • Ypsilanti, Michigan "I often the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day." - #vincentvangogh #street_photography #blackandwhiteonly #featureshoot #myfeatureshoot #streetphotographer #street_photographer #streetphotographyworldwide #streetgrammer #streetphotography_bw #streetphoto_bw I #capturestreets #life_is_street #lensonstreets #streettogs #🔴 #ricohgr2 #🔴📷 #ricohmafia #streetphotocargo #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #bnw_lowkey

[jaysennettauthor]

Bus Depot • Ypsilanti, Michigan "You never need me when I'm around." - Velda, #kissmedeadly #nightshot #nightscene #nightstreet #street_photography #blackandwhiteonly #featureshoot #myfeatureshoot #streetphotographer #street_photographer #streetphotographyworldwide #streetgrammer #streetphotography_bw #streetphoto_bw I #capturestreets #life_is_street #lensonstreets #streettogs #🔴 #ricohgr2 #ricohmafia #streetphotocargo #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #highcontrast #bnw_lowkey

[jaysennettauthor]

Bank of Ann Arbor • Ypsilanti, Michigan “It’s not about what you light, it’s about what you don’t light.” - #johnalden #lowkey #blackandblack #myfeatureshoot #streetphotography_bw #neoprimemag #ricohmafia #life_is_street #lensonstreets #ricohgr2 #highcontrast #streetphotographyworldwide #fineartphotography #nightshot #nightscene #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #filmnoir

[jaysennettauthor]

Alley off Pearl • Ypsilanti, Michigan "Photography means releasing oneself from one type of gravity and placing oneself in a space where a different force is trying to move you." - #shomeitomatsu #myfeatureshoot #artsyfartsy #nightshot #nightstreet #blackandwhiteonly #highcontrast #street_photo #streetphotography_bw #provoke #lensonstreets #streettogs #life_is_street #streetphotocargo #ricohmafia #ricohgr2 #nopeople #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #bnwphoto #gravity

[jaysennettauthor]

Bank of Ypsilanti • Ypsilanti, Michigan "Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy. There are truths which one can see only when it's dark." - #isaacbashevissinger #street_photo #highcontrast #street_photography #lensonstreets #myfeatureshoot #streetphotocargo streetphotographyworldwide #streetgrammer #streetphotography_bw #streetphoto_bw I #capturestreets #life_is_street #nightshot #streettogs #🔴 #ricohgr2 #ricohmafia #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography

[jaysennettauthor]

Pride 2017 • Ypsilanti, Michigan I found this yesterday cleaning up Lightroom. The woman atop the roof is the city's mayor. Twenty years ago there were few out LGBTQ residents. At this event there dozens and dozens. Shot on a #ricohgr2 #street_photography #street_photographer #street_photo #blackandwhiteonly #🔴 #🔴📷 #highcontrast #streetgrammer #life_is_street #streetphotography_bw #streetphoto_bw I #capturestreets #life_is_street #lensonstreets #streettogs #ypsilantistreetphotography #ypsilanti #ricohmafia #ypsipride #streetphotocargo

[jaysennettauthor]

Deja Vu Gentleman's Club • Ypsilanti, Michigan This club used to be the movie theater serving the city of Ypsilanti. When the theater closed, the present owner bought it. Strip clubs are a sustainable industry in metro Detroit. During the worst times of the 2008 crash, these clubs, which dot Michigan Avenue From Detroit to Ypsilanti, stayed open. A friend who stripped for a living during these times told me she and the other girls (her phrase) did okay financially. "All of us find our preferred escape." Shot on a #ricohgr2 #🔴📷 #🔴 #streetphotocargo #ricohmafia #hicontrast #nightstreet #streettogs #streetphoto_bw #streetphotographer #neonlights #streetphotography_bw #bnw_legit #street_photographer #myfeatureshoot #capturestreets #streetgrammer #life_is_street #blackandwhiteonly #ypsilanti #ypsilantistreetphotography #stripclub #mannequin

[jaysennettauthor]

Deja Vu Gentleman's Club, Ypsilanti • Michigan

[jaysennettauthor]

New Post has been published on http://www.jaysennett.com/colossally-dumb-reason-why-i-am-a-transgender-man/

Colossally Dumb Reason Why I am a Transgender Man

https://youtu.be/xJmpzai9hFM

I’ve heard some doozy and dumb reasons why I transitioned.

This one still ranks as no. 1 and has for over fifteen years and is a variation of the you-were-born-that way trope, which I despise.

[jaysennettauthor]

New Post has been published on http://www.jaysennett.com/the-pain/

The Truth About Early Transgender Transition

The self-obsession I engaged in during my early days on hormones only became apparent in retrospect. Boy was I embarrassed.

The realization that I described my fears and sufferings in pitiful attempts to get dates gobsmacked me.

Why couldn’t I just speak kindly and trust my winning personality to get a date?

Then I doubly gobsmacked myself.

A vein of self-pity runs through masculinity, focused on how hard we have it, whether from family or work or school. This vein seems to function like gold for a gold digger for femininity, with its directives to always be helpful and suppress oneself for others.

As an FtM I mined this vein for my own nuggets: bathrooms are scary! why didn’t so-and-so get my new name/pronouns correct?!? they almost called the police on me!!!!

Of course these situations scared me. They would scare most people. But I managed to transform the fear from a rather ordinary – but terrifying – part of my life into a tool in my dating toolbox, one I used, I’m terribly sorry to admit, to get dates.

Lack of interest in a potential partner’s suffering plays a key role in this tool. Self-pity always sucks oxygen out of the room, regardless how many people it suffocates. People trained to suffer in silence – and this seems to be more true for women than men, particularly middle class white women – leap at the opportunity to subsume their needs and desires to help out their man/FtM/butch.

As an FtM I believe I possess many of the least desirable traits of masculinity. My previous life offers no exemptions. Yes, my status as a man is conditional. A quick snip with some scissors to cut off all my clothes reveals my complicated bodily status.

This same body moves through the world as a man, all the time. I’ve learned over the years how much people want to serve me and make me happy simply because I am a white man, a person perceived to have most everything from people who have less, or even very little.

Femmes and feminine-identified people look at FtMs like me complaining about how tough it is and probably wonder, rightfully so, why I am such a whiner. Self-pity engenders resentment in the listener and laziness in the speaker.

I never had to really touch my feelings of terror as long as I could complain about it. I never had to ask a woman I was interested in how she navigated a world where men lear at women, stalk them and harass them every minute of every day.

No. Self-pity hid that reality from me.