#your honor they’re gay and trans and they’re doing drugs about it

[bamfwizard]

haven’t drawn these goobers in a while so here’s some doodles

[ldss-interactive]

At Alter’s End: A CYOA Novel

Overview:

Trentworth, Maine. A town of ten thousand southeast of Ellsworth and North of Bayside. Its only bragging point since its conception in 1867 was being a shoreline city and cheaper than any of the other big tourist towns. Nothing ever happened here, besides the occasional drowning or fishing trip accident, until the killings started. They lasted five years in total and 48 people were lost to the killer’s sick desires. Robert Hall terrorized this small town, slipping under the radar by focusing on those considered “undesirable”; sex workers, orphans, drug addicts, and the like. Now ten years later, ten years after the killer has been put behind bars, murders have begun again. A copycat killer has come to Trentworth. And they seem to be targeting the ones left behind, still trying to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives…

You take the role of a highschool senior; your parents having died in a home fire shortly before the killer was put behind bars and now under the care of your workaholic aunt. Make allies of your classmates or attempt to go it alone, clear your parents’ name from their believed involvement with the killer or fight to put the past behind you, deal with the skeletons in your closet and mind or bury them deeper... Oh, and make sure your history project is turned in on time. With two young siblings depending on you and a whole host of problems a highschool student should never have to deal with, can you survive this nightmare made real?

Trigger Warnings: This game will go into very heavy topics including the following; murder, death, various mental health issues (such as PTSD, depression, and anxiety), abandonment, gambling, various types of drug addiction, self harm mentions (not happening to the MC or shown in graphic detail), suicide, sex work, child abuse (mental, emotional, and physical), and dangerous situations. This is a murder mystery/thriller, it is NOT intended for audiences below 18.

Hello! Thank you for showing interest in At Alter’s End. This is a Choose Your Own Adventure style novel in the Thriller and Murder Mystery genres. It would also fit nicely in the Drama genre as well, but Drama is not the focus. This will be a rather lengthy project, with fifteen chapters plus a prologue and epilogue planned.

You take on the role of a senior at Trentworth High. Join an after-school activity, take care of your younger siblings, prepare for finals, get a part time job, find a date to homecoming, and survive your worst nightmare come to life. The copycat killer is targeting the students of your school and no one is safe. With the police dragging their feet, no help coming any time soon from any higher up law enforcement, and the locals refusing to acknowledge the possibility of a copycat killer, it’s up to you and your classmates to find the person responsible...before it’s too late.

- You can play as female, male, nonbinary, or trans!

- You can be straight, gay, or bisexual!

- A highly customizable MC including hair color, eye color, skin color, hair length, height, and personality and interests!

- The ability to choose which mental illness the MC suffers from due to the trauma of their past from the following:

Anxiety, Depression, or PTSD.

- The MC is deaf in their right ear ear due to the way in which their parents died; this is not something that can be changed.

- Choose from 7 different official after-school activities! Trentworth Volunteers, Up and Coming Artists, National Debate Society, National Honors Society, Co-Ed Varsity Basketball, Creative Writing, and Trentworth Gardeners!

- Bond with your classmates, explore your town, and help raise your younger siblings!

- Rescue your parents’ bakery from corporate clutches or let it go!

- Find the killer, stop the murders, and put a stop to the rumors that have plagued your every step for 10 years!

Vanya: Oldest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive siblings, 6 years younger than MC. Strong-headed, intelligent, and always getting into trouble. She looks after her brother and MC in the ways she can.

Ajay: Youngest adoptive twin sibling to MC’s adoptive sibling, 6 years younger than MC. Nearly completely blind since birth, he enjoys painting and other artistic endeavors. Obedient yet opinionated.

Aunt Emma: The workaholic aunt that takes custody of MC and their younger siblings after the death of their parents. Well meaning but absent most of the time on business trips or at the office.

Kwan Hall: An adoptive relative to Robert Hall; aloof, intelligent, and completely ostracized by Trentworth as a whole. When the killings start again the town’s attention is immediately turned on Kwan. He’s the first to begin investigating the killings when the police prove their incompetence. He is of Korean descent, standing at 5’6” with dark hair and dark eyes. His most notable feature is the long scar that stretches from his forehead’s hairline, down his left temple, and ends just below his jawline and the constant disinterest on his face. He is asexual in that he doesn’t experience sexual attraction at all. He is also bisexual.

Alessia D’Agostina: Trentworth High’s school president. She’s clawed her way tooth and nail up to earn the respect of both the school faculty and her fellow classmates; she’s strong-willed, dependable, and always looks at things through a logical lens. When she sees her classmates dying, she takes it upon herself to try and stop this once and for all. With dark skin, deep brown eyes, long braided hair, and standing at 5’8” her confidence and sense of self always make sure she stands out from the crowd. Alessia is bisexual.

Georgiy Kuzmin: Twin brother to Anastasiya Kuzmin; he is, in the kindest way possible, not the brightest bulb in the box. Yet he always means well and is more than willing to offer a helping hand. As the co-captain of the basketball team, captain of the baseball team, and the star of the swim team, Georgiy is one of the most popular and well beloved students at Trentworth High. When he realizes his friends are in danger, he willingly throws himself into the investigation to do all he can to help. With fair skin, dirty blond hair, bubbly green eyes, and standing at 6’1” he cuts an approachable figure to anyone who knows him. Georgiy is gay.

Anastasiya Kuzmin: Twin sister to Georgiy Kuzmin: she and her brother are alike in so many ways apart from just appearance. Anastasiya, who goes by Ana more often than not, is head of the Co-Ed Varsity Basketball team, the Girls’ softball team, and the Tennis team. Just as popular and loved as her brother, Ana may not be the smartest but she makes up for it with passion and dedication. Like her brother, she has fairer skin, dirty blond hair, and bright green eyes. Also like her brother, she felt she couldn’t just sit around while her friends were put in danger and agreed to join the investigation. Ana is gay and demiromantic, meaning she only gains feelings for someone after having a strong relationship with them.

Lillian Triano: A quiet, withdrawn girl who mainly keeps to herself. Due to the fact that Trentworth High demands for every senior to be apart of an elective, she is mainly seen in afterschool reading club run by Ms. Habeeb. She’s MC’s closest friend, having been one of the only people who didn’t believe the rumors that MC’s parents were assisting Robert Hall in his murders. She has an olive complexion, brown eyes, a heavy dose of freckles, and stands at 5’1”. Lillian is gay.

Jasmine Abernathy: Jasmine is Trentworth High’s self proclaimed “Best news source!” After the school newspaper was disbanded, Jasmine took it upon herself to keep freedom of the press alive. She’s fierce in her pursuit of the truth and never one to back down from a fight, though her rash attitude can get her into some sticky situations on occasion. With vibrant red hair, dark brown eyes, and standing at 5’3” she puts the term “fire” in Fire Signs. (She’s an Aries in astrology!) When the copycat killings began, it was no surprise when she took the case head on. Jasmine is bisexual.

Asa San Nicholas: Asa is the oldest of a set of triplets; they’re the type to march to the beat of their own drum, often not listening to what anyone has to say about themselves or their interests. Asa is a firm believer in the paranormal and it isn’t uncommon to find them indulging in their interest in various ways. “The spirits are distrubed. These deaths aren’t meant to happen.” Asa’s reason for getting involved seems to tie directly back to their “connection” with the spirits of the town. Asa has black hair, most often tied in a ponytail, hazel eyes, and an olive skin tone. At 6’4” they tower over most everyone...something they seem to enjoy a great deal. Asa doesn’t see gender and is interested in people regardless of how they present.

Leo San Nicholas: The middle of the triplets. They are genderfluid, okay with any pronouns. Leo is, for lack of a better word, eccentric. A bit of an adrenaline junkie, you can often find them cliff diving or giving their siblings heart attacks by playing russian roulette with a chocolate gun. To them, it isn’t fun if there isn’t a little danger involved; naturally, an investigation into a serial killer scratches that itch quite nicely. Their black hair is clipped short, multiple piercings visible on each ear, and their heterochromatic hazel and green eyes are often stated to stare through a person. Although Leo is genderfluid, they are only interested in people who present as female.

The demo is upcoming! When it is available I will make a post announcing it! I will also update this post with the link! This game is written in choicescript; the demo will be published on Dashingdon and the final game will be published for free on itch.io. I am open for questions regarding this game/novel and once the demo is published I will also be publishing a link to my Ko-fi! Until then, please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions!

[curtisandlewis]

Jerome AKA Joey Levitch Profile

*Note: I originally wrote this in honor of Pride month. In a majority of my fics Jerry doesn’t get to proudly proclaim his sexuality. There have been a very few fics where I’ve experimented with Jerry being heterosexual and only one I think where he’s stated he’s not attracted to men. In 98% of my fics he’s not heterosexual. He may not be “out” but he is very proud. I’m going to be adding a lot more to this!   

Sexuality: Before I get into the labels I want to say that I write Jerry as inclusive of trans men and women. Not because of wishful thinking but because it makes the most sense. Back in his time, it wasn’t homosexual for a man to have sex with a trans woman. (I’m not saying it is now but that’s the phobia some men have in our current times) Worse case scenario a trans woman would be thought of as a third gender but definitely not as a “man in a dress” Also Jerry’s whole thing is challenging society. Even if it was EXTREMELY taboo to have sex with a trans person (I’m including trans men) he wouldn’t let that stop him from pursuing a nice person he finds attractive.

I write Jerry as polysexual. Why polysexual and not JUST bisexual or pansexual? I view the definition of bisexuality to be an attraction to more than one gender. On a spectrum, it would go from attraction to ANY two genders (Not just man and woman) all the way to attraction to ALL genders. If Jerry were only attracted to TWO genders (again, let me make it clear these genders do not have to be ONLY men and women) then I would label him ONLY as bisexual. But Jerry is attracted to men, women, and nonbinary genders. More specifically, he’s attracted to gender and the differences between all the genders. Not the person’s body but their actual identity and how within that identity they act masculine or feminine or a mix of the two. If you are a person who doesn’t connect to a gender (for instance Agender) then it’s most likely he won’t be attracted to you. For that reason, I don’t label him as pansexual. The definition of pansexual I’m most comfortable with is an attraction to all genders/ gender not being a factor in your attraction. He’s pretty much the opposite of that. I’ve thought about this for YEARS and am pretty comfortable with that label for him. It feels right and that’s what’s important. Maybe I am biased though as I am a polysexual and I will admit yes, I want some damn representation even if it’s only in my head. Also, it sounds like “Pauliesexual” How perfect is that?

*Note: I only write Jerry having nonbinary partners in AU fics. I just feel in the 40′s and 50′s as a worldwide celebrity he wouldn’t have access to someone who OPENLY identified that way rather than passing for male or female. I know they existed back then but I think you would have to go to EXPLICITLY queer spaces. I could be wrong though. 

Now that we know the label lets talk about romantic vs. sexual attraction. This is pretty complicated because he’s all over the board. He has the potential to be romantically attracted to all the genders he’s sexually attracted to. However, he’s EXTREMELY fluid. He ping pongs back and forth from Dean and Patti with his romantic attraction. And sexually...WOW. He LOVES men and is like “I’m so fucking gay fuck” then he LOVES women and is all “Sex with women is so different they’re so much more in touch with their emotions and it’s BEAUTIFUL” And sometimes he loves BOTH! and his sexual activities reflect this. (Not all people that are attracted to more than one gender will engage in group sex behaviors but he definitely do!) and of course, he may not be into either men or women and more into masculinity and femininity. So if he’s spending all his time with Tony he’s in his gay as fuck mode basically. I can’t give you an example of how often it fluctuates because he’s all over the place. Luckily for him, there’s a wealth of genders in the world that find him pretty sexy. As Jerry might say, “people...people who have sex with people...are the luckiest people!” I couldn’t resist.      

Now for all the problematic behaviors and themes

These will all be explained in detail at a later time

Jerry’s promiscuous behavior is not a result of his sexuality. More times than not I will have in mind that Jerry as a character is suffering from multiple mental illnesses. The most important in this context being some form of bipolar disorder. With the mania you experience from that disorder you get a heightened sex drive and become hyper sexual. Jerry is also a sex addict in the classic sense. He experiences deep shame as apart of his addiction cycle. Unlike Tony's sex addiction sex to Jerry represents the love and acceptance he didn't get as a child. Jerry also experiments with drugs and very rarely alcohol which also makes him act more promiscuous and think less about consequences.

SEXUALITY DOES NOT DETERMINE BEHAVIOR

He practices unhealthy and unsafe BDSM. This may be controversial but I don't view BDSM as something Jerry does as apart of sex. It is apart of his sexuality and who he is. He is a masochist first and foremost. He must feel pain it is healing to him. You can absolutely do this in a safe and healthy way using the principle of "safe, sane, and consensual" and by communicating with your partner/partners. Jerry practices this with his wife and Dean but not Tony. Jerry suffered verbal abuse, emotional abuse, and neglect as a child but he was never hit. He thinks it's because his parents didn't love him enough. They just wanted to pretend like he didn't exist. Sometimes he feels jealous of the people he knows that were abused physically. He knows it's wrong but he can't help it. He wants Tony to smack, punch, and beat him. All the things Dean refuses to do. He wants to taste blood and to see the bruises cover his body in the places he can still hide them. This is in no way indicative of people who practice BDSM. You do not have to be abused to want to do BDSM or be a masochist. What makes it worse is his sex addiction. He's constantly chasing that high and does riskier and riskier behavior. He also uses BDSM as a way to punish himself for not being faithful to Patti or Dean and that he constantly fails them in their relationships. The fact that he can't tell his body to not want sex or that he can't say no to sex makes him feel like he should be punished. He has groomed Tony to be this for him. Every precaution Patti and Dean have made to keep him safe and healthy Jerry has TAUGHT Tony NOT to do. He lies to everyone around him and says it's JUST FOR FUN. Meanwhile, the shame eats him alive.

His unhealthy relationship with his wife Patti

His unhealthy relationship with his partner Dean

His unhealthy relationship with his side piece Tony

[lord-pigasus]

No Pride For The Police

(content warning: this essay contains conversations on police brutality, homophobia, transphobia, racism, mental illness, and rape that may be upsetting. it also uses reclaimed slurs)       Pride is our day to be out and be loud. To many, these events are the only face of the queer community. They're loud, colorful, and celebratory.  Seeing my people celebrate their queerness all over the country is inspiring. However, these marches often fail to focus on important political issues that affect more vulnerable queer populations.  Among these issues is the trend of increased police involvement.       Police are everywhere at pride parades, they escort the marchers, they block off the route, and they patrol the area. At the last pride march i attended, the police even paraded alongside the marchers in their cruisers, waving rainbow flags at the audience. Police love to play like they’re supporting the community. They smile, crack jokes, and pose for pictures. To them, pride is a way to build clout in the community. A way to get people to trust them and rely on them. Once pride is over however, they aren’t so friendly to the queers.       Mya Hall, a 27 year old black trans woman took a wrong turn off the highway and ended up headed towards the Baltimore NSA headquarters. Before she reached the gates of the facility, police open fired at her car. Kayden Clarke, a 24 year old trans man, called the police for help during an Aspergers-related meltdown. Instead of attempting to talk him down the police fired their weapons. Both of these people had their lives end at the hands of the police. Stories like these are shocking examples of how police interact with queer bodies. Police violence is a constant threat against us, felt most by trans people, people of color, and differently abled queers.       Black trans women especially are targeted. They are profiled as sex workers or drug addicts by the police who use the law as an excuse to harass, beat, sexually assault, and arrest these women with no repercussions.  According to the National Coalition of Anti Violence Programs, Transgender people of color are six times more likely to experience police violence that cis white people, and the Office of Justice Programs says that thirty two percent of black trans women report being sexually assaulted while in police custody or jail.       As a community, our number one priority should be to ensure the physical safety of our most threatened members. Any queer organization that supports or works with the cops does it in the face of every queer person targeted by them. If a group doesn’t fight for the protection of all queer people, especially trans women of color, then it is fucking useless.       When the modern gay rights movement began, police violence was one of the main points of action, and we would not have the rights that we have without our spiritual ancestors’ anti-police resistance. Unfortunately, that history of resistance has been lost or erased by the mainstream community.         In the 1960s, the queer community had to work underground to avoid police harassment. Raids on gay bars and restaurants were regular, and sometimes even scheduled.       Organizations such as the Daughters of Bilitis and the Mattachine Society worked to create public acceptance of homosexuality, but were very restrained and quiet in their tactics. They excluded trans people, demanded formal dress, and did their work from the closet using respectful and non confrontational tactics that were slow-working and ineffective.       In 1966, police attacked a group of trans people at Compton's cafeteria in San francisco's tenderloin district. Fighting soon broke out as queers smashed windows and threw plates, cups, and furniture at the police. this quickly became a battle between police and trans folk and spilled out into the street. Those riots showed the community that they had the power to fight against the police. It inspired queer militancy all over the country, and helped create a network of fags in San Francisco that would organize and fight for queer rights in the coming years.       More well known is the 1969 Stonewall Uprising. When the police attacked the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar popular with homeless queer people, they were met with bricks, fists, and shouts of "gay power!" In the aftermath of the battle, queer people began organizing into groups such as the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) and the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA). These groups borrowed tactics from black and anti-war activists, and advocated for queer people to come out and protest their unfair treatment.       On the first anniversary of the uprising, gay activists marched in the Christopher Street Liberation Day parade from Christopher Street to Central Park. Similar marches were organized in Chicago and Los Angeles. In the coming years, these marches had spread across the world and became the pride marches that we see today.       As we achieved more and more rights, the tone and politics of these marches changed. They became bigger, gained the support of city governments, corporate sponsors, and the police. The legacy of militant resistance was erased, and the participation of trans people, and queers of color was discouraged. Today's pride events hardly have any resemblance to the anti-police spirit that created the movement and gave us our collective power.       The only way to achieve queer liberation is to resist capitalism and the police that support it. Simply asking the system to give us rights can never ensure our safety, because the violence against us is a fundamental part of capitalism.       Gender and heterosexuality are constructs created by capitalism to assign labor roles on the personal level. Capitalism is strengthened when it can promote straight nuclear families that work for the benefit of the wealthy. If you were assigned male, you are pressured into doing wage labor for the wealthy so that you can support your family. If you were assigned female, you are pressured into unpaid labor in the home, supporting your husband in his wage labor and raising the next genderation of workers.  Gender is a life given to us at birth without our consent. Any deviation from those assigned roles is a threat to capitalism. As queer people, our bodies and sexualities are fundamentally opposed to the social order. We are the targets of violence because our very existence represents a loss of capitalism’s control over its workforce.       Police exist as the enforcement arm of the wealthy. They were created to protect the property of slave owners, and are the only group given permission to use violence. Their main goal is to protect the power of the wealthy under the guise of justice.  Because we’re a threat to capitalism’s control over the workforce, cops set out to terrorize and destroy vulnerable queer populations whenever possible. They don’t attack us because they’re homophobic, They attack us because it’s their job. No sensitivity training, policy change, or civil discussion can change their purpose. The police are fundamentally opposed to our existence and in order to achieve liberation, we must put an end to them and the capitalism that gives them power. Once we understand the nature of our oppression, it becomes our responsibility to resist capitalism and ensure that our community does the same.       In the 2016 Toronto pride parade, Black Lives Matter was asked to march as "honored guests". As they reached an intersection, the float stopped and the marchers sat down. As the entire parade came to a stop, the group demanded that the event's organizers agree to a list of demands calling for more inclusion of black and poc issues, and an end to police floats and booths. Within thirty minutes, the organizers agreed to these demands and police were not invited to have a float at the 2017 march. This tactic was effective because it was confrontational, direct, and gave power to the protestors. They spoke truth directly to the spectators, and obtained bargaining power that allowed their demands to be met.       We need to have open resistance against the police at pride events. Our tactics must be confrontational and dramatic. Pride is a stage that can be hijacked for a radical message. It’s easy to take the stage. even if you can't get permission to march you can jump in as a group and pretend to be a sponsored float. If you have banners and signs, none of the spectators will think twice about you being there.       At the risk of bad publicity, Police will be hesitant to use force at pride. Remember they're there to make friends and they're not trying to drag fags off the street. In a confrontational situation, there's nothing the cops can do to look good. They either do nothing and give us space to educate and agitate, or they react with clumsy aggression (the only way they know how) and end up looking like the gay-bashing fascists that they are.       There is no limit to the protest strategies that can be used at pride. You can set up booths, perform theater, hand out literature, and use your bodies to bring police outreach to a halt. You can chant, sing, dance, or speak. An organized group of twenty or thirty fags can easily turn a pride march into a radicalizing experience. In fact, it was a group of just a few fags dedicated fighting against the police that started the movement. Use your imagination, and don't forget what you're fighting for.       The mainstream movement has blood on its hands when it works alongside those who jail, rape, and murder our queer family. we have become obsessed with positive visibility and personal validation at the expense of ignoring the violence that continues to hurt us. Our liberation cannot come with rainbow flags and good intentions. Liberation can only come through action. -asher p. savio, 2017

[fashiontrendin-blog]

A Vietnam Veteran on Growing Up Transgender

https://fashion-trendin.com/a-vietnam-veteran-on-growing-up-transgender/

A Vietnam Veteran on Growing Up Transgender

Collage by Edith Young and Emily Zirimis

This Memorial Day I wanted to re-share three stories of current and former service members and military spouses. This beautiful interview with Felicia Elizondo, originally published in August 2017, is just as relevant and touching today. – Nora Taylor

An increasing number of young people are identifying as activists, but to call this a new trend would not only be naive — it would also be a missed opportunity. Older generations offer an important perspective on what it means to be politically and socially active. In an effort to soak up their knowledge, we’re speaking to activists who have been doing this work for decades. First up was 74-year-old Sally Roesch Wagner; then 66-year-old Jackie Warren-Moore. Today is 71-year-old Felicia Elizondo.

When I called 71-year-old Felicia Elizondo on her San Francisco landline to ask about her life’s work in transgender activism, she told me she’d give me a roller coaster ride I’d never forget. As she shared her experiences over the next hour, weaving through timelines and memories, I knew she was right.

Although she “still feels young every once in a while,” the San Jose native and Vietnam War veteran has lived through forgotten events, dramatic life changes and hard-to-imagine struggles. She’s witnessed the transgender community grow and change throughout the decades and has worked to preserve the efforts of those first activists during her time.

Below, a conversation with Elizondo, transgender rights pioneer, war veteran and self-described “Mexican spitfire” who believes that anyone, regardless of gender or sexual identity, should have the right to fight for their country in uniform.

What was it like growing up in an era when there was little awareness or acceptance of transgender people?

I knew I was different from four or five years old — but I thought I was gay, because I didn’t know about transgender people. I knew I was feminine; I wanted to play with girls and with dolls. They called me sissy and all kinds of names when I was little, but I didn’t know the meaning.

When I was 14 or 15, a guy walking down the street told me [unsolicited] where young kids like me hung around in the park. I started hanging out there and found out there were a lot of people like me. That’s when I learned about drag. Drag wasn’t really common until the ’80s, but on Halloween we could pretend to be girls.

My friends from San Jose and I played hooky from school to go to the Tenderloin [a neighborhood in downtown San Francisco]. It was the gay mecca in the 1960s, but it wasn’t advertised in the media or television or newspapers; it was known by word-of-mouth. It was a place we could go and act the way we wanted to. Gene Compton’s Cafeteria [in the Tenderloin] was the center of the universe for a whole bunch of the queens, the sissies, the hustlers, the kids who were thrown away by their families like trash.

Why did you decide to join the military when you were 18?

They were asking for volunteers to go to Vietnam, and I decided to volunteer in 1966. I was hoping that the military could change me. I wanted to be the man that I was drilled to be since I was little. I enlisted in the Navy and did all the manly things I was supposed to do. I lowered my voice so nobody could tell that I was gay. I totally changed my ways.

Eventually I understood that, no matter how hard I tried, I was always attracted to men. One day I decided: If the military couldn’t make me a man, nothing would. I went to my priest and told him, “You know something? I tried to change. I tried to do what men do, and I just can’t seem to get it.” We went to the commanding officer and told him I was gay. The FBI and CIA interrogated me because it was happening during the time of war. They cleared me and undesirably discharged me at Treasure Island in San Francisco.

Were you initially afraid to talk to your priest about it?

I’ve always been Catholic. I did my baptism, my communion when I was a little boy, my confirmation, all that stuff. At the time, being Catholic was all I knew. I was 20 when the FBI interrogated me for being homosexual, but I never thought [being gay] was that bad. I knew it was against the law, but that was who I was. My religion doesn’t accept me, but God does. I don’t go to church, but I pray when there’s a need to pray, here in my house. My God is here at home.

On July 26, Donald Trump tweeted that “the United States Government will not accept or allow Transgender individuals to serve in any capacity in the U.S. Military.”* How did you react to his words?

I am proud to have served in the military. I am American. I was taught that people should fight for their country and for freedom. No matter who I was, I had to do what I had to do in my heart. In a way, I had to prove to myself that I could do something that was so important.

[Donald Trump] promised the LGBT community that he would fight for us, and where is he? He wants to ban us from the military? I was appalled. I’m sad for him because he thinks that, just because we’re different, because of who we are, we don’t belong and we don’t deserve the honor of serving our military. I knew I was different, but I wanted to serve. He’s not my president.

What was your experience like when you came home from the military?

Things had changed. Before my service, cops were taking us to jail or harassing us because we dressed feminine — it was against the law to wear feminine clothes.

The hippie generation had evolved. In the ’70s, people started to wear long hair and feminine styles. Still, no one would hire feminine boys. The only thing we could do was sell drugs or pursue prostitution. I started as a prostitute. I wanted to be myself. I was tired of hiding.

In 1971, low-income Latinos were being recruited to start professional work. It was then that I was hired as a long-distance telephone operator. I was still dressing as a girl at nighttime, but my coworkers didn’t know.

At what point did gender confirmation enter your purview?

I found out through the grapevine about a gender dysphoria clinic in San Mateo, and I applied for gender reassignment. I talked to the psychiatrist, and he approved me for surgery. The conditions were that I would have to work as a female for two years and dress as a female for two years prior to the surgery. But two years was too long for me to wait to be who I wanted to be. I had waited a lifetime to find out who I was. I had to go for it. I heard about a doctor in Mexico and went there.

I transitioned from male to female in 1973. When the telephone company I worked for got the letter from the gender dysphoria clinic that said I was psychologically ready to be a female, they accepted me. Still, after I got breast implants and a nose job and came back as female, I drove around the block three or four times before facing my co-workers because my nerves were shot.

Six months after my transition, the supervisors took everyone out and, when I needed to go to the bathroom, they had somebody wait outside the door so nobody could go in and disturb me. They took care of me. In the ’70s, that was something I never expected.

You’re featured in a 2005 documentary about the 1966 Gene Compton’s Cafeteria riot, a protest by transgender people against police brutality that happened three years before the Stonewall protests. Why is it important to you to spread word about the riot?

I was in the service until 1967, a year after the riot had already happened. A lot of the things [after the riot] did not change. Nobody talked about it because it wasn’t in the newspapers. The riot was forgotten for 40 years until Susan Stryker, the documentary director, found a document about it at the San Francisco GLBT History Museum. She started interviewing people who were there in the ’60s. I told her how life was for us then, how I became a prostitute and how Gene Compton’s Cafeteria was the center of the universe for us.

I may not have been there for the riot, but I knew all the girls who were there in the ’60s. I am going to carry the torch for those girls, who did so much, so our transgender history will never be forgotten. Last year, we added a “Gene Compton’s Cafeteria Way” street sign on the 100 block of Taylor Street. Since 2005, I’ve held an anniversary every year in August to make sure the girls of the Tenderloin will never be forgotten for their bravery and stamina to be who they were. Last August, we celebrated the 50th anniversary of the riot.

Sometimes I want to walk away and let it go and hope the youth of today will take over, but it’s hard because they don’t know. A lot of the people in San Francisco are not from here. Most of the people taking over today don’t know anything about our history. They’re making their own way — they’re not worried about the past or what we went through. That’s why it’s imperative for me to tell people how I perceived it in 1967 at Compton’s, because Compton’s didn’t stop after the riot. If it weren’t for us in the ’60s, the trans youth wouldn’t be [where] they are today.

Other than learning about your history, what advice do you have for the young transgender community today?

Unite. That is so important, in any community. In the ’60s, we were a gay community, all together, all colors, fighting for the same thing. We were standing up. Nowadays, I think the trouble with our trans community is that there are too many disparate leaders and not enough united followers. They aren’t worried about the collective history. They’re reclaiming the word “queer.” I was appalled and sad when I first heard that. We were killed because of that word; it’s painful to me. After a while, I gave up and learned to endure it, but the people out there using it should know what a horrible word it was to us before the ’70s.

What other forms of activism have you participated in?

The AIDS epidemic came out in the ’80s, and I found out I was HIV-positive. I didn’t know what to do or how long I would live. I started giving back to my community. I gave emotional and practical support for people with AIDS, going to people’s houses and taking care of them. I sewed an AIDS Memorial Quilt and sewed everything by hand with love. Now I’ve made 80 of them. In 1987, I became a trans drag queen [with the name Felicia Flames] to raise money for AIDS. I started volunteering and holding office jobs for organizations: Shanti Project, Project Open Hand, the San Francisco LGBT Community Center. I think I’ve raised money for every LGBT-related or AIDS-related organization in San Francisco.

Is there anything else you’d like to share?

I’ve been here in this apartment for 25 years. I have two dogs, a Cocker Spaniel mix and a Pomeranian mix, and I walk them three times a day. They’re my life and my support. They keep me going.

Yes, I’m alone. I haven’t had sex in over 20 years, but I’ve had enough sex to last me a lifetime. Now, if someone doesn’t love me for who I am, I don’t need a man in my life. I am happy. I am the woman I was meant to be. Where I am today is exactly where I’m supposed to be, and nobody can take that away.

The simplest thing I can think of is to know that we’re not all bad people. We’re human beings like everybody else. I would just like more education and more people out there doing good for everybody.

*

[sheepydraws]

I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (4/11)

Last Chapter

Last Spring:

March 16th, Kasumi Tendo uploaded a private video to her account. The next day she released her first bento tutorial, starting her most requested series. It is still the video on her account with the most hits, even though it’s quality does not perhaps reflect that of her other videos. Unbeknownst to anyone, the rice balls she made in that video were stuck together with condensed milk and later served to her family with mango slices, because she was too anxious to shape them properly. She felt as though she was working under a deadline she had already missed. She didn’t want anyone sniffing around that private video.

Nabiki had shot it, and she had insisted her sister put it on the internet so it could be revealed with the click of a button. She said it would be evidence, in case the incident ever went to court, but Kasumi knew the threat of blackmail when she heard it.

Kasumi knew what her sister was capable of. Kasumi considered her hands washed of Nabiki’s little business venture. She may buy the alcohol and supply the drugs, but it is Nabiki who keeps things running smoothly—with blackmail, bribes, and the threat of physical violence, if necessary. (One does not grow up in a dojo without learning a thing or two). (Nor do they know a doctor is in love with them and don’t occasionally swipe a prescription pad).

Okay, so Kasumi wasn’t a saint, but she still didn’t like having that video on her channel. For a while it had been too easy to see it every time she made an update. The little grey thumbnail would hover there, menacingly, and she would stare until she found herself clicking it.

The video opens on a stairwell.

“Wow,” Nabiki says, “I can’t believe it’s all still here.”

“You only left a year ago, sis.” Akane says. She started htr not too long after this video, since there was no longer any reason to put it off, and only a few weeks later the difference between her face in the video and real life would surprise Kasumi.

“Oh, sister dearest-“ Nabiki began in sing-song, sounding like she’s about to launch into a “I am ten months older than you and so you must listen to my older sister bullshit” sort of speech. That is when they reach the top of the stairs and turn to find Kodachi and her brother standing there.

“Sister?” Kodachi says, looking confused.

You can’t see Nabiki’s expression, but the camera bounces as she jostles Akane, “Just a little ribbing.”

“Some of us actually respect our siblings.” Kuno replies haughtily.

“What are you even doing here?” Nabiki says, zooming in on Kuno’s face.

“I am here to see how my sister is doing in her last year at my alma mater,”

Nabiki snorts. “You pretentious fuck,” She mutters under her breath.

Sometimes Kasumi pauses the video here and prays for the footage to be different. Fifteen minutes of Nabiki and Kuno bickering would be perfectly alright. She wouldn’t mind watching that over and over.

Then there is a thud and Kuno’s face disappears from the screen, replaced by a blur of red, and the crash of something hitting the floor.

The camera pans down so you can see Kuno and Ranma as a tangled heap of limbs on the ground. Ranma rights himself and nonchalantly perches on Kuno’s chest.

“Hey, Nabiki, you just got me out of study hall!” He says with a wave.

Kuno rises beneath him like the ocean floor shifting, sending Ranma to the ground. “Who on earth are you?” He asks, wiping down the front of his now wrinkled button down, “And what nefarious thing did Nabiki Tendo do to allow you this truancy?”

Ranma paused in getting up to look at Kuno like he just spouted off a conspiracy theory involving aliens, cows, and hormones in the drinking water.

“Anyway,” Ranma says, turning back to Nabiki,  “Mr. Winkleman said I could come show my guest around the school, but you know your way around, so I’m going across the street for a hot dog.”

“Seriously,” Kuno says, now standing, and as dusted off as he is going to get, “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a friend of mine.” Akane replies quickly.

“You two aren’t friends.” Kodachi says, with an expression that claims lying is a foreign concept.

“We’re distant cousins.” Akane says. “We’re friends when we’re out of school.”

“Good thing you’re lying,” Ranma calls over his shoulder. He’s headed for the stairwell, already fishing a wallet out of his back pocket, “Or things would be pretty awkward at home.” He doesn’t seem to think anything of the remark, but Kuno won’t let it go. He grabs Ranma by the shoulder, and Ranma stops, though he shakes the hand off.

“I’m confused. How do you know Nabiki and her brother?”

Ranma smirks. “I don’t.”

“Good lord, man, stop being obtuse and explain what’s going on here or I shall report you to the front desk.”

Ranma rolls his eyes. “Stop speaking in a British accent or I shall have to beat the snot out of you.”

Akane comes into the frame, for a second silhouetted by the window, turning her into a shadow with a white halo. “Lay off you two. Ranma is a family friend, okay? That’s why I called him a friend.”

“Would you stop lying?” Ranma says.

Akane looks like she might growl at him. “Would you stop antagonizing everyone?”

“Only if you tell the truth for once.”

“This is Kuno, okay? He’s an asshole. He doesn’t deserve the truth.”

Kuno looks a bit hurt by this, but he doesn’t have a chance to get back into the conversation. It has become a two person match.

“What is it with you,” Ranma says, “And having to economize the truth? I don’t lie. I came out the second I heard the word trans, I broke up with my girlfriend as soon as you and I got engaged, and I told all my teachers that as far as I am concerned this year is a waste of my time, and you know what I get for that? Respect.”

Kuno is sputtering in the background, but Nabiki has cut him out of the frame. Maybe she could already tell, by the colors on Akane’s face, red, then pale, then burning red again, that this was a moment that needed to be on film.

“You should try it,” Ranma continues, “Then you wouldn’t spend all your time terrified that people are going to find out you’re exactly who you are.”

Akane’s hands ball into fists so tight her arms shake. “Shut up.” She hisses under her breath. A warning more than an order.

“No!” Ranma yells, “I will not shut up! I got sent to this lame-ass school for my senior year, the year that was supposed to be me and my girlfriend just fucking around and going to prom, but instead I’m here, with point zero friends, just cause I’m engaged to some girl who won’t even admit she’s a girl.”

Akane slaps him, and the camera shakes with the impact. Nabiki turns for a minute and you can see that the jostling was not caused by Akane’s palm, but rather the small crowd of students who have gathered to watch the spectacle. Most have money or food, probably headed out for lunch.

When the camera comes back to Akane and Ranma you can tell that they have seen the other students too. Both their faces are red, though there is a pale outline around the hand print on Ranma’s cheek.

“None of that is true!” Akane says to Ranma, though it is clearly for the benefit of the crowd.

“I’ll stake my honor on it!” Ranma yells, Akane his only focus. “I swear it on my honor as a fighter.”

“Fine then, fight me for it!” Even Akane takes a step back after that outburst, surprised as anyone else.

“You’re on.” Ranma says. “You, me, the parking lot by the basketball court. Now.”

With that they race down the stairs, Nabiki and a horde of underclassmen right behind them. They go through the side exit so they won’t have to go past the front desk and get asked what the heck they’re doing. The sunlight is momentarily blinding, but Nabiki keeps Akane in frame, elbowing underclassmen out of the way to do it, judging from the pained grunts in the background.

Akane and Ranma face off in the parking lot, circling each other for a minute to get the lay of the blacktop.

“You call it, Nabiki.” Akane says.

“You’re going to get expelled!” Nabiki yells over the crowd.

“It’s too late in the year for that.” Akane replies, and she was right.

“You two should just stop now, before someone gets hurt.” That someone won’t be Nabiki, though. She is not stupid enough to get between them.

“This is my honor!” They both scream, and they take that as their cue to start.

The first time Kasumi saw this she was expecting a careful, somewhat ritualistic judo match.

This is not that. This is a brawl. This is anything goes kind of fighting. You’d think that two people as skilled as Akane and Ranma would be kicking and dodging, flipping and throwing, but there is no time for that. Their bodies collide like monster trucks at a rally.

The underclassmen are screaming, but they can’t cover the sickening smack of flesh hitting flesh with the intention to hurt. Some people are cheering for Akane, some for Ranma. Among the encouragement are slurs that make Kasumi’s stomach flip.

Watching from the outside, weeks later, the whole thing seemed pretty pathetic. Not the damage Ranma and Akane inflicted on each other, that was serious. By the time teachers arrived to break them up they both had wounds that required stitches, scratches on their bodies from where they clawed at each other and where they scraped against the blacktop after they went down on it, and Akane was crying, her face a mess of snot and tears and blood, crumpled and bright red like a valentine someone had thrown in the gutter.

“Damnit, Ranma!” She screamed as the Chinese teacher hauled her away in a half nelson. Her voice cracked so hard on Ranma’s name you expect her throat to split, and Kasumi’s heart shattered. It was a pointless fight. The damage was done. The mark Akane got on her permanent record didn’t stop the rumors. Didn’t stop the anger and confusion. Kasumi didn’t even go to the damn school anymore, and she still got wind of the tales being spread. Akane Tendo is gay, no he’s a tranny, no she’s a dyke. She’s engaged, child marriage, judo, tae kwon do, Tendo.

You can already hear those words beginning to float through the air as Akane and the Chinese teacher disappear round the bend in the parking lot towards the front office.

The camera pans to Ranma, sucking on his split lip, blood already drying on his chin. He glances up at Nabiki as best he can with his left eye swelling up. The teacher holding his shoulder, biology, maybe, squints at Nabiki as well.

“What?” Ranma barks.

“I don’t know.” Nabiki says, “I guess I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Ranma touches his eye, and winces. “Your sister is a violent maniac.” He beams at the camera for a second, sending more blood oozing down his chin. “We’re made for each other.”

With that the screen goes mercifully black.