Beach Boy

Tomorrow I'm going to Trans on the Sands, an event sponsored by the Gender Identity Project, at Coney Island from 11-5. Click the link for info/directions if any of y'all are in the NYC area.

I'm looking forward to a day at the beach, for sure- especially since it will be precisely one year and three days since I had my chest surgery, which means shirtless shenanigans for sure! I've been really good about following the recommended no-direct-sunlight-for-a-year guidelines around my scars. The first time I took my shirt off in the great outdoors was two weeks ago when I jumped in a river for about a half hour, at 5pm, with SPF 45 slathered all over myself. I still intend to slather my skin and especially my scars in SPF 45 tomorrow, and reapply frequently, but it's nice to feel like I'm out of the probationary period.

This beach event is a great idea, based on the principle of safety in numbers- there are plenty of folks who can't be safe and relaxed at the beach in the beachwear of their choosing, and that's pretty crappy. It reminds me of one way in which transphobia can skew more negatively towards transwomen. Before last year I wasn't particularly happy wearing my double-layered sports bra beach outfit, but I didn't feel that unsafe. I was still a visibly gender variant female, but I've seen transwomen get so much more abuse along the lines of "Aah, dude in a bikini!"

I feel safe and fine going to the beach anytime (particularly now, with the passing privilege my transition status gives me) but I'm going to Trans on the Sands tomorrow because everyone should be able to be safe at the beach. If I can contribute to that by sprawling my pasty self out on the sand, then excellent.

Not to mention, I'm totally thrilled about my first shirtless beach excursion ever. I'm looking forward to jumping in the ocean, gross though the water at Coney Island is. Swimming without breasts is a whole new thing, and I'm wicked excited about it. I intend to try to figure out whether I'm less buoyant post-transition...I think yes, since I've got less fat and more muscle, thanks to surgery and T, but maybe it won't be significant enough to matter.

some sort of mix-up

This past weekend I had what was probably the most flummoxing and yet most entertaining moment of disclosure that I've ever had. I was at a music festival with my girlfriend, a lesbian couple who are close friends of hers, and a straight woman friend of theirs. The couple are getting married (legally, in Massachusetts) next year, and we were talking about which states allow gay marriage when I mentioned rather casually to Rochelle "You and I could get married anywhere but Texas!"

I was referencing the fact that different states have different rules and regulations around marriage and what sexes may marry each other, and how the sex of each party needs to be 'proven.' Some states (including Texas and Ohio, I think, but probably some others as well) require two people to have birth certificates, one reading male and one reading female. Since my birth certificate still says F on it, Rochelle and I would be out of luck!

The straight woman, who had just met me earlier that day, overheard and asked "Why can't you get married in Texas?"

I figured it was as good a time as any to disclose my trans status, since I had nothing invested in keeping it from her, and said "Because my birth certificate says 'female.'"

There was a brief pause, and then she asked, confusedly, "Why does your birth certificate say female?"

Ha! I was stunned for a second, and came back, probably less diplomatically then I could have done, with "Because I'm a transsexual!" at which comprehension finally dawned on her face, and she said something about "Oh, well, you know, I figured sometimes they make some sort of mix-up on these things." And our mutual friends sort of awkwardly explained to me that they hadn't outed me to her, figuring (quite rightly!) that there was no reason to.

It was a funny reminder that not everyone will automatically be able to overcome the cognitive dissonance of someone whom they'd been reading as male mentioning offhandedly anything about a female past. I was also reminded that I tend to pass as non-trans pretty regularly now, even in crowds (queer/queer-friendly) where I assume that it's possible or probable that I'll get clocked as trans through some combination of factors- small hands, wide hips, sparse facial hair, queer/dyke girlfriend, etc. In this instance, though, not only was she unaware of my transness, even what I thought was a completely revealing statement at first passed right over her head. Heh. Some sort of mix-up indeed! It just took 20 years, thousands of bucks, and some helpful doctors to fix it up.

Though in fact, I haven't fixed it up. I've changed my driver's license and Social Security info, and I intend to apply for a passport this fall- am hoping that those documents plus my top surgeon's letter will let me get an M on there with no problems, despite the fact that my certificate of citizenship has a little 7 yr old girl on it. But I don't intend to change my Canadian birth certificate. I don't have much occasion to trot it out, and I tend to think of it rather as a historical document- they put down F since that's what they thought I was. Now I've grown up and challenged that decision and changed the currently-relevant-to-my-life documents to reflect that, but I don't have much invested in changing the marker on that certificate. No harm done, so long as I don't try to get married in Texas.

TMC pride

Check out this link to the video I mentioned a while ago, taken by a guy wandering around the Pride Parade with a camera. You can see some TMC Network folks being very articulate, as well as me, about halfway through, with my charming sister. I'm floundering a bit and I don't really answer his question, since I didn't quite know how to, but it's interesting to watch, anyway.
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http://randywickerreporting.blogspot.com/2007/07/transmasculine-community-networkshows.html

like a fish

This weekend, while camping and attending the Falconridge Folk Festival, I had the opportunity to duck over to the town I went to college in and jump in a river with some friends. Oh man, it was so good. I realized as I was splashing around that I haven't gone swimming in a year- not since I had my surgery last August. I'm about a week away from my Chestiversary, and with plenty of sunscreen slathered on, I shucked off my clothes and jumped in the river.

Splashing about in a river in the middle of summer is delightful at any time, of course, but it felt so good to be barechested and unselfconscious. I've skinny dipped in that river plenty of times, but never so unabashedly. There's a lot to be said for the various freedoms that led up to such a joyful afternoon, and I'm grateful for each and every one of them. Hoorah for the summertime.

check-up

I went to Callen-Lorde a week or so ago for my one year on T bloodwork- a little late, since I'm actually around the 15 month mark. Still, close enough, given that everything came back fine last time.

As it mostly did again- my doctor went over the lab results line by line, and congratulated me on my great blood pressure, cholesterol, liver function, kidney function, etc. Apparently I'm in rather excellent health...except when we got down to my red blood cell count.

C-L uses red blood cell count as a means of monitoring testosterone levels, since there's a normal male range and a normal female range, and they're pretty much exclusive. My count is at the high end of the normal female range. Pretty high for female, but definitely lower than normal male range.

My doctor told me that this is an instance in which he relies on patient experience to determine how to proceed. If I were feeling like my transition were proceeding too slowly, then he'd feel comfortable, based on my labs, prescribing 250 mg/two weeks rather than the 200 I'm currently at.

The trouble is, I don't really have any way of knowing whether things are proceeding "too slowly." Certainly, all of the changes that I've been expecting have occurred- musculature, facial and body hair, acne, voice dropping. And a few that I haven't expected- more sweating, different appetite patterns, mood issues. But who am I to say how fast things are meant to be going? Certainly I'd prefer to have my beard fill in more quickly, but I'm not sure that more T is the answer to that. I'm thinking back to a workshop I attended at the Trans-Health Conference, in which Nick Gorton explained the cascade of hormone conversion, how T converts into both DHT and estrogen, so more T can lead to more facial hair, etc (DHT) but also more acne and baldness from the same source, and it can also be converted into estrogen.

Anyway, I told him that I feel pretty good about how things are going, and that we could do some bloodwork again in 3 months (rather than waiting another 6) and see what the levels are like.

He also told me that I could probably expect to see my acne clear up by around 18 months from now, which is a relief. He also reminded me that mine is really not that bad- though he was careful, in true Callen-Lorde fashion, to emphasize that he wasn't trying to diminish my experience in any way...that if I feel my acne to be an affliction, then that's valid!

That's one of the things I love about Callen-Lorde, that I've consistently experienced (through the HOTT program, that is, since they're the only ones I've interacted with)- the earnest and concerted effort to make me feel validated and justified in my concerns, as well as an effort to assure me that they're on my side, that they're not looking to make me jump through any hoops, but rather that they just want to offer the best medical care that they can.

I know it can come off as pedantic and condescending to some folks, but I find it really reassuring and warming, and I have to believe that it's one of the only sources of positive feedback that some of their clients have. So hurrah, Callen-Lorde!

tired of sand being kicked in your face?

Second two pictures are from late last week, after I'd just finished one of my sporadic (but growing more regular!) homestyle workouts...I think you can just see my Swiss ball in the background! First picture was from a photoshoot I did with my friend Mary Ellen as my "pre-t documentation" last March. We went and messed around in the photo studio for an hour or two, and she kindly took a bunch of pictures of me, digital and otherwise. I may scan some of the contact sheets one of these days, since most of the posed shots that we did for body comparison purposes are on them. Still, there's enough to give a general idea here, and I appreciate the modesty of the overexposure in this particular shot. It makes me pretty nervous to put up pre-t/pre-surgery shots of myself on here. Mostly because I don't much like to think of myself being configured like that- I didn't much like acknowledging that body when I had it! So correspondingly, I don't like the idea of anyone else having an image of me that includes breasts. Still, as I get more time and distance from the old WB (With Breasts) days, I think this new PBE (Post Breast Era) can be one of indeed acknowledging my female bodied past.

How comforting that is! I think I'll say it again: female bodied past. Mmm.

In any event, the distance makes everything easier, to the point where now I can enjoy the contrast in these photos in a way that makes me proud of myself and grateful for the steps I've taken.

I'm so pleased to be in my skin these days. I'm trying not to let it shade into vanity, but when I look in the mirror or take these pictures and see my rough little beard, and shoulders wider than my hips, and arms that look solid, I'm just so damn pleased. Is that normal? Are most people happy to inhabit their bodies?

It seems in this body-policing culture we leave in, maybe not....most folks probably spend too much time worrying that their thighs are too big or whatnot. And maybe I'll move out of this honeymoon with my body phase, and start giving more attention to the things that only give me twinges now, like my love handles, and the fact that my beard doesn't grow on the front of my chin, and my acne, etc. But for now, even those little insecurities can't keep me down long. I'm so glad for what I've got!

also, I got a haircut.

dude

The other day, I was in the company of a transwoman friend of mine, and she did a small favor for me, to which I enthusiastically responded "Thanks, dude!"

She cheerfully but very quickly said "I'm not a dude, but you're welcome!"

And my face must've fallen slightly as my heart broke a little bit, but I covered up fast with "Then thanks, dudette!"

I know exactly what it's like to be so sensitive, to be on edge to every gendered reference, to feel the sting of thoughtless, casual words. At that moment, I had the sudden sinking feeling of knowing what it's like to be the not-sensitive-enough person, to have a thoughtless and automatic response give offense where none is intended.

I call everyone dude- it's not a gendered remark, for me. And ah ha, therein lies the privilege that let me hurt the feelings of a friend, for which I feel quite sorry. Worse still, hurt in a way that I've been hurt myself, in a way that I ought very much to know better than to do.

Of course, there's no way to know how much of her response was (trans)gender-pain based, part of an ongoing fight to be seen as a woman (which every now and again I remember is often a much harder fight for transwomen), and how much was gendered indignation of the same sort that various conscientious feminist friends of mine wince and correct me when I say 'freshmen' instead of 'first year' or "you guys" when referring to a mixed (or even all female) group.

I'm not prepared to fight with out language to the same extent as, say, the We'Moon Collective out in Estacada, Oregon, who get their deliveries from the US Postal Service in the moon box since even phallocentric homonyms are frowned upon; an anecdote I read in the local queer newspaper in high school which has ever since kept me from taking them quite seriously.

But I'm definitely willing to acknowledge that using masculine language as a universal standard is a pretty lousy practice, one that's a big step on the slippery slope of sexism, and does a lot to subtly undermine women and feminist notions.

So I'm glad to be corrected, and glad to get the kick in the pants that reminds me that my casual use of masculine terms, even terms that have lost their gendered markings in my own vocabulary (like dude), are still very gendered for other folks. I may entirely be projecting when I say that I think she flinched at that term for personal, trans-related reasons. There are some who would call that being too sensitive, but I know well that when every acknowledgement of one's identity comes at a hard-fought price, the little things are huge, too. I remember trying to describe to someone once the reason that I didn't want to wear any articles of women's clothing, be it socks or sneakers, even though to the casual eye they were essentially unisex. It was too hard to keep a grasp on my masculinity before transition, and I had to keep a tight grip on the tiniest things to reassure myself, as well as present a unified front to the rest of the world.

So it's possible that my friend was just being a feminist woman, reminding me to curb my assumptions and my language, which was obviously gendered to her even if I used it unthinkingly. Still, it takes on additional weight coming from her, as a woman whose womanhood most likely comes dearly to her, as my manhood does to me.

It's a lesson to remember that my own privilege is generally invisible to me but very visible to others, and in this case, while I'm not sure which set of circumstances most contributed to the offense I gave, I still hurt the feelings of a friend, and I hope I won't forget it soon.

funny lookin'

It's a funny thing bout my gender dysphoria...I didn't realize the extent of it til it was gone, in some ways. What gets me thinking that tonight is the realization that I really like how I look now. I consider myself handsome, and attractive, and while I fret about my love handles like everyone else I know (about their own, presumably, not mine) I have a basic level of satisfaction in myself and my body that not only did I not have before transition, I didn't even realize I was missing.

I watched a movie about a farmer the other day, and there was a brief scene in which a farmer girl intern is harvesting tomatoes and talking about how tomatoes helped her realize that voluptuous things are beautiful and desirable, and her curvy body is gorgeous like a ripe tomato.

It was an 'awww' moment for me on several levels, starting with the basic tug (I still feel it, though it's getting fainter) of connection and empathy with a woman discussing her body and its travails. The next was a moment of connection, of insight of what it means to look down or into a mirror and smile....or not even have to look, to just have a moment to smile inward slightly, she as she hefts a reddened tomato, me as I run the back of my thumb along the coarse fuzz on my jaw.

I didn't know how unhappy I was with myself til I made something happen to become happier. it's a bit funny, that gradual realization of self that inspires realization of happiness.


Also, it gives me a bit of insight (though not any more sympathy, mind you- suck it up!) for the folks, and usually they are someone's folks, parents or whatnot, who can't wrap their minds around how important transition is for someone. "But you never seemed that unhappy/miserable!"

Seems like there's a whole iceberg under that tip of dissatisfaction that gets shown to the world. I didn't myself realize the extent of how weird things were as a girl til I stopped being one. No wonder other people, without the benefit of my feelings, didn't realize how wrong it was.

more thoughts on Pride

and a few more pictures!

Pride was really a good time, discounting the hot/sweaty/waiting around two hours for us to have our turn to start marching parts. Once we got going, it was real nice to be a part of something so big, and filled with such positive energy. Everyone watching was smiling and cheering, and we spent lots of time waving to the crowd, and getting waves back.

I've mentioned before a feeling of growing apart from the Transmasculine community, like it's not something that I feel such a strong desire to be a part of, as most clearly evidenced by my tapering off and then disappearing attendance at the Group run by the Center. Marching in Pride, though, seems to clarify my feelings about being part of the community.

I want to be part of the community in the sense of sometimes attending big events, and feeling pride in my queer/trans identity, and helping to support folks by going to film festivals and suchlike, and participating in activism/outreach by being on panels or helping with mentoring programs, or what have you. I don't want to be a part of "the community" in the stock sense of the word that tends to homogenize more than anything else. I don't have the angst or the patience to be a part of a support group right now, in part because my transition is becoming a different aspect of my life now (a more personal one), and in part because I don't have the sensibilities to be part of a "bonding with my tranny brothers" mentality. A lot of my friends are trans, and a big part of my social world is the queer/trans scene in the City. But I really am resistant to the idea that I'm in an automatic brotherhood with all the other dudes with vaginas in this world because quite frankly, I can't stand a lot of them.

My friends are the people that I connect with and bond with, and lots of them are transdudes also because we connect on that point- but oh man, I'm tired of the notion (coming from inside the community and out) that transmasculine folks are all the same, and so are automatically buddies.

Anyway. I had a great time at Pride, marching with a lot of great people. It felt good to connect with all sorts of transmasculine folks on that level, of being part of the TMC Network, and marching in solidarity with each other. And part of what was so great about it was limiting the interaction to that particular venue.

Other thoughts...there was a fellow running around with a video camera interviewing folks, and he talked to some people in our group about what TMC Network is. Then he asked Kate about her shirt, and I asked him who he was...at which point he assured me that he'd done all sorts of video interviews with all sorts of people, including "some lesbian women who say that transgenders make the perfect man! What do you have to say about that, considering that you don't, uh, don't necessarily look like you're one of the transgenders?"

I paraphrase, but it was something along those lines...well meaning, but definitely a bombshell that I didn't feel inclined to touch. I did what is generally known as "sticking to your talking points" and said something about how glad I was to be a part of the TMC Network, it's a great social and political organization, I was very glad to be visible and part of the parade."

He accepted that and wandered off to interview someone else, fortunately, since I didn't know quite what else to say. I wasn't going to get into my views on tranny-chasing (though I have had some interesting thoughts about that lately...fodder for another post, I suppose), and I didn't know quite how to react to his rather blunt assessment of my passing privilege.

I did of course feel a tiny swell of pride- he meant it as a compliment, of course, and I couldn't help but take it as one, even as I was aware of the lousy assumptions built into the foundation of that compliment. I know my flat chest/fuzzy face/5'8" stature lets me break ranks with a lot of other trans dudes and I'm grateful for it even as I'm frustrated by it, and anxious about being complicit with the binary gender system. Not sure how to convey those complex feelings in a Pride March soundbite, that's for certain.

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Speaking of fuzzy face, I'm two weeks in to my beard growing experiment, and I realized that I don't have enough experience with beard growth to know whether mine looks sparse because I'm too young (facial hair wise) to get anything good, or because all beards look kinda sparse their first few weeks in existence. No one has told me I look stupid, though, and I trust my friends/family to be honest with me and let me know if I really need to bust out the razor. My plan is to grow it out til it comes time to head back to Portland to visit the extended family in two weeks, at which point I'll try to make as objective an assessment as possible to determine whether it'll impress my relatives or make them chuckle.

so proud

I marched with the Transmasculine Community Network in the New York City GLBT Pride Parade yesterday- super fun! A lot of us wore TMC Network t-shirts that read (albeit in miniscule print) "The T is not silent!" My excellent sister wore a hand lettered tank top that read "I *heart* my trans-man twin!"

That's me looking scruffy and Kate in all her sharpie ally glory...I thought about writing "I *heart* my non-trans twin!" on the back of my t-shirt, but I figured I wouldn't ever wear it again if I did that, and I could probably get some good gym usage out of it if I left it as it was.

Dawning of a New Era

or in other words, have you ever wanted to know what I look like, as they say, IRL. Have you ever dared dream of the day you'd see me become a....what is it now....vlogger?

See what the digital age hath made possible.

First video, April 12, 2006. Second, June 19, 2007.





I know, right? I said it, too. "Whoa, turbo!"

warnings/apologies: vocals seem to be slightly out of sync in the first video, the volume is uneven between the two, the camerawork, such as it is, is shaky at best, and I've got a slight but definite lisp. forewarned is forearmed.

10 months, give or take a day

please to forgive vacant open-mouthed stare, unruly chest hair patches, glimpses of messy room, etc.

chest status: alas! + cake

I realized the other day that one of the benefits I get through my work it the option to enroll in a pre-tax medical expenses flexible spending account. In other words, they take out money from my paycheck pre-taxes, and use it to reimburse me for medical expenses incurred over the course of that year. Up to $3,000 can be taken out per year. And I ask myself...why the HELL didn't I use that to help pay for my chest surgery? What with the tax-free status, it would've been like getting a free extra thousand bucks. What was I thinking?

Also, I could've used it this year to help pay for my glasses!

But you can only sign up for it once a year, and you can only use it to pay for things that took place during the same fiscal year. So alas, it's no good to me now.
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I bought some cocoa butter lotion (with Vitamin E! it declares on the tube) to rub into my chest surgery scars, since I've just run out of the oil I'd been using. I think the oil did some good, and I think this cocoa butter stuff will be good, too...it's certainly a very effective moisturizer, and it makes me smell like cake batter, which is a definite bonus. It's pretty thick, so it requires some vigorous rubbing in to get it to soak in to my skin, and I think that itself is good for my chest, too...massage is definitely proven to help break down scars/prevent adhesions, and I suspect it'll help with nerve regrowth, too, to have that stimulation. Certainly, my chest tingles pleasantly for a few minutes when I've finished my vehement cocoa butter rubdown, morning and night.
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Scars are looking good- still quite pink, but fading and flattening. It's pretty much only under my right armpit that it's still lumpy, and I can tell that it's going to keep getting better. My right nipple is not as nice as my left- the areola is more lopsided in shape, and has some persistent dry/flaky skin. But the left nipple itself has a little discolored bump (I suspect from where the Evil Milkmaid pinched me at that Halloween party last year), so I guess they both have their little quirks. Still not much sensation in them, but they definitely get hard and soft in response to temperature and sometimes in response to tactile stimulation. And sometimes for no discernible reason.

I'll post some pictures later tonight.

sci fi foolishness

So I'm going to see some some movies on Saturday with the Transmasculine Community Network (aka all my buddies). There are four films being shown (Gender Redesigner, Bro Crush, F Scott Fitzgerald Slept Here , and Kaden) and it's only 7 bucks for students (13 for everyone else, at the AMC Lowes on 34th Street at 8th Ave. Details, tickets, etc www.newfest.org.

I'm looking forward to going to the movies with friends, and supporting the community, especially since at least one of the movies was written or directed or acted in by various friends of mine. But I was also a little hesitant when I first saw the invite, because (as I mentioned last post, I think) I've been feeling myself pull back a bit from 'the transmasculine community' lately. I tried to pull the feeling apart a bit in therapy yesterday, and I got some ideas, but I still can't totally pin it down.

I think part is coming from a feeling of being tired of being Trans with a capital T. It was a hard year or two while I came out and got my bearings and got transition up and rolling, and it was draining, and I'm tired of it. Now that my transition is taking up less personal energy, I'm feeling the urge to let it totally die down, to just...ignore it for a while.

Then there comes this big wave of guilt, because I know that the fact that I can choose to ignore it is due almost entirely to my newfound passing privilege: the fact that I get read as male consistently, and (for the most part) have the luxury of checking out...something I couldn't do pre-transition, and many many other folks can't do.

Amy reminded me that there's an ebb and flow to everything, and that it's reasonable for me to be tired of spending a lot of energy on trans stuff, and that not going to one event (or even lots of events) isn't going to cause me to lose my place in the trans community.

And I think a larger part of it is a desire to shut the door on that chapter of my life for a little while...the early transition angst chapter. I unequivocally want to see the short films being shown, partly because they're the work of my friends, but partly because they seem to be something definitively different than the standard 'transition documentary' which is what the feature film is. I had a gut reaction flinch to the description of that film...I don't really want to see a documentary about one person coming out as trans and then beginning medical transition.

Why not? Maybe because I just finished living that story, and don't particularly want to relive it through someone else's lens just yet. Maybe because I'm grouchy and irritable these days, with less patience for things that make me uncomfortable...or movies that remind me of past and sort-of-still-present discomforts.

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All that personal stuff aside, I'm also somewhat ambivalent about supporting this festival, due to some hullabaloo about a transphobic movie that was shown a few days ago. As my buddy Pete pointed out, there's some bullshit afoot . "NewFest, an LGB and supposedly T film festival, proceeded to show The Gendercator [link to Director's website] in New York this evening, despite outcry from trans activists and allies and the fact that it was pulled from NewFest in San Fransisco."

The director's note, from the website, reads:
Things are getting very strange for women these days. More and more often we see young heterosexual women carving their bodies into porno Barbie dolls and lesbian women altering themselves into transmen. Our distorted cultural norms are making women feel compelled to use medical advances to change themselves, instead of working to change the world. This is one story, showing one possible scary future. I am hopeful that this story will foster discussion about female body modification and medical ethics.

So basically, a parable about how we trans folks really ARE part of that evil transsexual empire that Janice Raymond got so worked up about in 1979. Great.

So yeah, plenty of more articulate and intelligent things have been written about this already (check out the Susan Stryker comments Pete links to), but I've got to throw a few more of my own cents into the mix.

This film is ridiculous for a variety of reasons, not least of which is once again, the notion that being trans = anti-feminist, patriarchal, repressively binary. Please. My transmasculinity is not impinging on your gender freedom. I'm not denying the patriarchy or colluding with it by living my life in a fully realized, satisfactory manner.

Also, as Pete says, this notion that butch lesbians are being pressured to transition is one that I've never encountered. I certainly have noticed (and remarked upon here in this blog) how there are master narratives within the transmasculine community as within any other, with various notions of the "best" ways to transition being privileged above others, and hierarchies built into the community. It's important to note, however, that a lot of that is anti-trans baggage coming from society at large, being perpetuated by people (trans and non-trans alike) who don't have the time (or perhaps, sometimes, the social agency/necessary privilege) to examine and deconstruct those notions.

This film is masquerading as 'a sci-fi satire' but (as best as I can say based on what I've read, having not actually seen it) seems to be mostly a tirade against transsexuality, coming from someone who is taking some basic misinformed assumptions and running away with them. The director writes that she wants to foster discussion, and I think that indeed it needs to be discussed, so that it can be picked apart and revealed for what it is.

So while I'm a huge free speech advocate, I don't believe that this film has a place at an avowedly LGBT positive film festival. (Though I can't say that I'm surprised that a transphobic film slipped through the cracks, since it seems the T is once again mostly an afterthought in this festival.) I think that it's not appropriate for films with anti-trans morals to be shown at a festival supposedly celebrating and bolstering (however belatedly) the trans community. The film's anti-trans rhetoric cuts more deeply when it's lent validity by appearing in a supposedly safe space, and I think that i is unacceptable for NewFest to have shown it anyway.