when transphobia hits close to home

23 03 2014
Silence Kills.

Silence Kills.

When Transphobia Hits Close to Home

03.23.2014

Reality check: just when I thought I might be “safe” working for a large corporation and comfortable with my co-workers, I received a wake-up call to transphobia in the workplace. I had unfortunate, bad timing to overhear a conversation between crew leaders at work concerning their opinions of transgendered individuals.

A crew leader (not my own; he was not there) says to other crew leaders and employees relating his time spent in Taiwan, eating at a restaurant, “This thing was our server. I cannot call it a person. It had an Adam’s apple and titties…I asked it ‘You have a job? Laugh, laugh, laugh.’”

I became almost physically sick upon over-hearing this language. My ears burned. My stomach felt heavy and my head spun dizzily. I retreated into the woods, out of hearing of this conversation as it got worst, talking about what they would each do if they discovered that the “woman” who they might hypothetically solicit for sex had a dick…And now I do not know what I feel. Guilt? Fear? Disappointment?

I go over that conversation in my head and fantasize that I was brave and confident enough to stand up to transphobia in my work place. But, though it is fine form to say on the internet or amongst a supportive community of friends, “Wipe out transphobia!” It is an entirely different situation when transphobia itself sits down to lunch with you at your workplace. Mostly I dissected the conversation and retreated back into my safe, “stealth” closet, very alone and sometimes afraid again. But, for the record, these were the thoughts swimming in my head, keeping me awake and re-iterating that this is not okay here!

“This thing was our server”: I do not think I have to say that calling a person a “thing” is wrong and transphobic and about as low as you can perceive another human being. But, the use of the work “server” further illustrates the prejudice of this statement. Rather than call their server a “waiter” or “waitress”, which might imply that this “thing” was a person with a gender, male (waiter) or female (waitress), and deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, this statement completely de-humanizes the person who was waiting on them. This kind of language kills—kills both spirit and body—and leads to worldwide plague of suicide and homicide amongst transgendered people.

It had an Adam’s apple and titties…”: again the use of the words “it”, rather than “they/he/she” utterly robs this person of inherent personhood. And the use of the slang “titties” shows great immaturity and general disrespect for those women (misogyny) who have “breasts”. Goddammit! We all have biology degrees here! Is it too much to ask that we use accurate, scientific language instead of naughty, inappropriate teenage slang?!

Finally, “You have a job?”: Really? Why not? Did the person who served you your Taiwanese meal do a bad job? Were they as rude to you as you were to them? Did they bring you rotten food? Spill your drink in your lap? Or spit in your soup? Why should they not have and do a good job as a waitress/waiter/server after all? Do they not deserve to have work and livelihood based upon your narrow definition of personal physical appearance? What do you expect them to do? Is the only work you can perceive that a transgendered person is fit for, sex work? Drugs? Prostitution? Of course we have jobs! Normal, regular jobs! Right under your nose! On your very crew you supervise and in this very same project!

Like I said, I am still trying to process all that this has awaken and alerted in me. I know that our corporate policy expressly forbids discrimination in the basis of gender and sexuality. Our work crews are fairly diverse from many backgrounds, colors, and stripes of persons. But, as far as I know (and being that I am fairly ubiquitous), I am the only transgendered person working for this company (or at least on this project in this region). But, though corporate may protect my job, there is no accounting for personal behavior of the persons I work with daily. I am similarly protected from harassment, but, in this case, though it made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe, I cannot say that I was personally harassed by this crew leader. It was a third party conversation about someone who does not work for our company. And not even aimed towards me as I was not an active participant of the conversation, but an eaves-dropper only.

And yet I struggle with the after-effects of this conversation and I am thankful that I was not an active part or had to sit through it and respond. I know it is these attitudes and conversations that continue to marginalize and kill our people. But I did not at all feel brave at this point. So, maybe I am a coward. Or maybe I am culpable for not speaking up. At the conclusion of this man’s harassment to his server, did this person in Taiwan, go home in tears? Did they finally have enough of such inexcusable treatment, that they killed themselves? Am I similarly responsible for this? Was this a cycle I could not hope to stop, spinning out of control half way around the world, and rearing its ugly head in my workplace months later? I hid in the woods safe from transphobia in my workplace. That is the truth and I have to live with that—and the fear. But, what would you have done instead?

You see, though I appreciate your empathy or sympathy in this situation as you sit at home and say, “I am sorry you had to go through that or hear that at work,” I was not actively harmed by this employee interaction. But, I am of a community belief that every action (and inaction) has a profound effect on our own environments or communities. That hate speech creates not only fear and anger at the moment it is uttered, but resounds around the world and through all ages as negatives energies or spirits for all time. Each individual in the world community and their words/actions create their own trophic cascade on the rest of Creation; just as what occurs to the herbs affects the herbivores, affects the predators, affects the herbs. So, if I go to work on Monday and find that it is more transphobic than before, it is because this conversation occurred, surely; but also because I had the opportunity to speak up and stand up for love and peace, and I did not. I do not say this to cast guilt or responsibility on myself, but because I learn and relearn this lesson dearly every day and every moment.

(C)henry francis redhouse, 2014. Artwork is property of its respective owners.





that awkward moment when…

9 07 2012

That awkward moment when…there are no awkward moments. Or at least not as popular society defines “awkward”. I recently read a student op-ed about awkward moments and I realized that I have experienced virtually all of those so-called “awkward moments” and not felt awkward at all; because I am simply at a point in my life where I could care less what people see and what they think of me. Not only that, but I have lived my life as an invisible minority and the token “quiet person” for so long, I realize that the majority of people I encounter throughout the day do not even see me, and that they do not even notice that I am there at all. Being invisible is great for the self-esteem. No one notices me except myself and I can feel good without having to look outside for my intrinsic self-worth. It is entirely within me.

That awkward moment is not as the narcissistic op-ed claimed, when “1) there isn’t an app for that, 2) you fart having sex, 3) you find out you have been wearing your shirt inside out all day, 4) you are walking in one direction, then turn around and walk the other way and people are looking, 5) you’re talking about someone and they are right behind you, or 6) you can’t pick a wedgie in public.” No, that awkward moment is when, you have to come out as transgendered to your college so you can get safe housing. That awkward moment is when you have to come out as learning disabled to your professor so you can get extra help. That awkward moment is when you have to declare your gender to be one of two things: male or female, and either way is a lie, so you don’t know if that will disqualify from employment if they ever find out; or if you will be discriminated against for medical treatment based on your body type and what your insurance card says. That awkward moment is when someone sees an old picture of you and asks, “WTF?” and they have no clue whatsoever. That awkward moment is when someone gay-bashes your truck or pisses on your room door because you are different. That awkward moment is when you have to out yourself as autistic to the cops to keep from getting shot or tazed during an emotional public melt-down.

Essentially, these awkward moments have very little to do about how we see ourselves, which is within the loci of our control, but on how others view and experience us…and that is the very awkward moment that is entirely out-of-our-control and the scariest. Real life: It’s a bit more scary than just picking a wedgie.

(C) henry francis redhouse, 2012 (artwork is property of its respective owners)