the_fantastic_ms_fox (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_fantastic_ms_fox) wrote2008-03-26 09:29 pm
the_fantastic_ms_fox) wrote2008-03-26 09:29 pm
Entry tags:
Pride. Struggle. Camereaderie.
We were planning for the washroom and changeroom facilitiesat at the next-year's
prep retreat when a guy at OOC said "I wouldn't worry too much about it;
us trannies are creative."
Did you know that in the summer of 2006, I was at the point of choosing
between two alternatives?
1. Change sex
2. Military service
I think I made the right one.
Apt apt consideration and rejection of a particular masculine take on the notion of worthyness.
But military service was tempting, especially as I had no direction. It
structures your life for you. It includes exercise, teamwork and
training. It unfortunately also involves machismo, drinking, shooting
at people and getting shot at - usually because world leaders have a
lack of forsight, but would rather that you went through this than they.
If only there was a disarmed forces, I'd sign up.
Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under
the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world.
If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for
ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore
myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, devoted
it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to
being bad.
Hiro used to feel that way, too, but then he ran into Raven. In a way,
this is liberating. He no longer has to worry about trying to be the baddest
motherfucker in the world. The position is taken. The crowning touch, the
one thing that really puts true world-class badmotherfuckerdom totally out
of reach, of course, is the hydrogen bomb. If it wasn't for the hydrogen
bomb, a man could still aspire. Maybe find Raven's Achilles' heel. Sneak up,
get a drop, slip a mickey, pull a fast one. But Raven's nuclear umbrella
kind of puts the world title out of reach.
Neal Stephenson - Snow Crash - Chapeter 36
Why do we want to test ourselves like this? Is it because we are too slow to acknowledge each-others' worth? Or too reserved to say it? Or too humble to believe it, or just too used to being impersonal, to remember it? Do we want something impersonal, and thus fixed and uncontestable, to validate us?
I ain't exactly a man as some of you may have gathered, but I have very much felt the desire for this sort of material proof; a test, passed. The CFS thing would have sufficed on its own - that took a lot of work, in some truly unlpeasant circumstances, and involved standing up to some real sons o' bitches and changing the face of students lives (give it time).
And the end-of campaign party is the first time I have felt that intense a sense of cameraderie.
But there were times that I forgot about it in the midst of all this changing of sex business. The CFS was the easier of two troubles.
Changing sex and gender is intimate. It's physical. It's rough, and even dangerous*. It's trying. It's slow. It involves clashing with people, usually ones with more influnce than you. They don't pay you, or honour you, and you don't get a medal at the end. And it is ultimately imperfect.
And now I'm looking to travelling to Boston to have the shape of the bones in my face ground into somthing that feels, and will probably also look, more female, and probably feminine as well. The money has been sent off. I have the pre-suregry instructions in the mail, and I am scared. Brusing. Swelling. Bleeding. Don't sleep on your side for how long? "DON'T EAT AFTER MIDNIGHT" (seriously - it's all in caps). Pain meds. Tight bandaging. Looking like you got hit by a truck. Reduced range of physical action. And...
Bring it on.
Where did that come from?
You heard me. Bring it on. I can take this. I want to finish this. It'll hurt? Good. That way I'll know it's doing something. Scars? Okay. Let's finish. I've been planning on this for awhile, and I want to get it done. I'm ready. Let's go.
Odd?
There are many ways of changing sex and/or living in a variant gender role. This means different things to different people. But anyone who has done it and remained stable is truly bad-ass. I can feel a similar sense of we've-been-there cameraderie around them - sometimes. It's too bad it's so buried. It's something that I am starting to recognize, to take pride in. I wish I had some way of showing this respect to the transgendered people I pass. So brave.
Not just transgendered people. Our society forces so many people to be bold, and then silences them. Our most ignored are some of our most provocative. The ones we make shy are some of our bravest. The ones we silence are the ones who are the most truthful.
*As I have stated before, the army is a lot safer
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do you have someone to go with you and take care of you?
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I still haven't been assessed for bottom surgery.
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Charming.
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I've never seen that quote before, but it's awesome. He's got another line, in Cryptonomicon, about how everything alive is a stupendous badass just for making it this far.
I'm not sure if I've ever said hello... I got here through some sort of LJ-hopping, and you write some cool stuff about the trans. Anyway, hi!
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I am glad you chose something different - i go into a blind rage when I meet soldiers, when I read about the army and when people actually willingly go into an institution that colonizes people here at home and abroad. While I don't know if joining the army is less dangerous, yes you may get honoured by the state for becoming a killing machine, but the very act of self-determination is of more honour. And in the army, you are congratulated for killing any sense of self-determination for yourself and for other people.
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Oh, and thanks for playing a supporting role in my dreams (http://koppermoon.livejournal.com/437092.html) last night. A performance worthy of the Academy's consideration.
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