Category: LGBTQ+

  • After the ‘quake

    I wrote about Channel 4’s Genderquake debate a few days ago, and it’s safe to say the programme has caused a lot of controversy.

    The people who refused to take part were proved right: Channel 4 was trying to start a fight.

    Here’s a piece by Pink News on how the audience were told to behave.

    Audience members at a controversial televised debate about gender claim they were “encouraged to heckle” panellists, including transgender activists Caitlyn Jenner and Munroe Bergdorf, by the programme’s producers.

    That’s an interesting contrast to the programme as it was pitched to potential panelists. CN Lester:

    I was one of the dozens approached from March onwards by Channel 4. An email from the production company explained that it would be: ”nuanced intelligent discussion around gender, identity and society. We aim to shed light on such complex issues and ask important questions in a safe environment.”

    Lester declined to take part, guessing – rightly – that the programme wouldn’t be remotely like that.

    This is what the so-called trans “debate” looks like: people shouting “you’re a man!” and “penis! penis! penis!” at people who thought they were there for a “nuanced intelligent discussion around gender.”

    These are the “mums”. The women with “legitimate concerns”. The ordinary people who just want to have a “respectful debate”.

    It’s not just the fact that they heckled. It’s that they were specifically invited so that they would. Channel 4 appears to have deliberately invited bigots – some of whom are currently under investigation for hate speech, some of whom have been suspended from their political parties – and given then prominent positions in the audience. When they did what they were asked to do and heckled the panelists, they were allowed to remain in place for the rest of the programme.

    Imagine for a moment the programme was about the experiences of an ethnic minority and Channel 4 sat members of Britain First and the EDL at the front, letting them shout racial epithets throughout the programme.

    Jenny Boylan, a writer I very much admire, in the New York Times:

    This is what happens when we act as if the humanity of vulnerable, marginalized people is up for debate.

    The people doing the shouting are the same people you read about in the Sunday Times and other papers. They say they aren’t bigots, that they want the chance to have a reasonable debate.

    And when you put them in a studio they shout “Penis! Penis! Penis!”

    Boylan again:

    At the end of the “Genderquake” program, Ms. Jenner said, by way of conclusion: “We have to create a more loving society. We have to celebrate the differences in people. Show love toward one another.”

    The audience booed.

    Not the whole audience. You can guess which section.

    I’ve been asked by a few people why I post about trans things here. That’s why. Every day we are libelled in print, slandered on social media, accused of unspeakable depravity and evil by people who question our right to exist and who repeat long-discredited bullshit.

    Here’s just one example, from the supposedly LGBT-friendly Guardian this week. Gaby Hinsliff linked the issue of trans women being able to change their birth certificates with the vile attacks by Canadian sex offender Christopher Hambrook in 2012.

    It was discrimination law, not the recognition process, that came under scrutiny in Canada after serial sex attacker Christopher Hambrook attacked two women in domestic violence shelters in Toronto, which he’d entered dressed as a woman. (The state of Ontario had previously passed a bill prohibiting discrimination against trans people.)

    The law Hinsliff mentions wasn’t passed until six months after Hambrook committed his crimes. The non-existent link between Hambrook and anti-discrimination legislation was invented by religious conservatives to try and prevent the so-called “Toby’s Law” from being passed. It’s a favourite of the “Penis! Penis! Penis!” shouters too.

    Hambrook wasn’t trans, incidentally. He was a serial sex offender who’d been incarcerated for child abuse and who was freed despite being an obvious danger to women: other inmates complained about the violent fantasies he made them listen to. Yes, he dressed as a woman to access a women’s refuge; had it been a disabled person’s shelter he’d have rolled up in a wheelchair. The judge who finally sentenced him to indefinite imprisonment said that nothing – “no other measure” but permanent incarceration – could protect women from such a dangerous man.

    The number of trans women who’ve sexually assaulted people in toilets or refuges, worldwide, is zero. That’s why people keep bringing Hambrook up: if they had actual examples of trans people being evil you can be sure they’d use them.

    The Hambrook case is about many things: lax sentencing of dangerous men, sexual assault against women not being taken seriously enough by police, and so on. But it had nothing to do with trans people whatsoever.

    But, you know, another day, another insinuation that if you see me in the bathroom I’m there to rape you.

    We are getting tired of this shit.

    Lester:

    The question I’m left with: how much longer can this script play out? Is this still enjoyable for anyone apart from the fanatics who want to spew hate at trans women?

    …I don’t have a choice about living in a culture shaped by such a regressive, dehumanising script.

    Boylan:

    …transgender people don’t need any more think pieces about the legitimacy of our lives. What we need, and what we deserve, is justice, and compassion, and love. What we need is freedom from violence, and protection from homelessness, and the right not to lose our jobs, or our children, or our lives.

    That’s the sinister transgender agenda right there.

  • A letter to Channel 4

    Pretty much every well known trans/NB person I can think of has signed an open letter to Channel 4 over the Genderquake “debate”, which airs tonight. The inclusion of Caitlyn Jenner and Germaine Greer suggests it’s a stunt rather than a sensible discussion.

    On a related note, pretty much every well known trans/NB person I can think of was approached by Channel 4 and asked to participate, and refused.

    CN Lester is one of them. As they wrote on Twitter earlier:

    “Everything I’ve seen from the team putting this together suggests that they’re going for a fight, not a discussion – hence the refusal to participate.”

    Jack Monroe, also refused, also on Twitter:

    I signed this because I believe that trans people should not be subjected to abuse and harm for entertainment. Pitting us against known transphobes for ‘debate’ is harmful, reduces us to reactionary stereotypes, and legitimises transphobia by broadcasting it. Time to #takeastand

    And we wrote this letter because dozens of well-known trans people refused to take part in this ‘debate’, all of us explained very very clearly why, and Channel 4 decided to go ahead with it anyway despite widespread concern from almost everyone they approached.

    If around 50 trans people are separately refusing to be part of your #Genderquake programme, surely you’d get the message and reconsider your framing?

    I won’t be tuning in.

  • Nothing to fear

    BBC Scotland in Glasgow

    For several years, I did a monthly technology surgery on BBC Radio Scotland. It was fun to do, but I was always scared that one day everyone would find out I was trans and the gig would be up.

    This morning, I did a technology surgery on BBC Radio Scotland. I wore a nice dress.

  • Dangerous waters

    I don’t swim any more. I used to, because I preferred it to going to the gym. And of course when you’re a parent it’s a cheap way to keep the kids amused. But since becoming me, the thought of going to a swimming pool scares the shit out of me.

    Owl Stefania puts it very well in this article for Refinery 29:

    …I can’t remember the last time I actually went swimming. I don’t think it will be anytime soon.

    Likewise. I’m not scared of much any more, but I’m scared of that. Scared of public humiliation. Scared that someone will be scared of me. Scared that even in gender-neutral changing facilities where the only time I’m naked is in a locked, private cubicle, someone will loudly object to my being there and claim I’m somehow dangerous.

    Dangerously clumsy, maybe. But dangerous? The only risk from my presence anywhere near a swimming pool is if I fall on you or belly flop nearby.

    There are trans-friendly, private swimming sessions around the UK, I know. The next Glasgow one, I believe, is on the 3rd of June. I can’t make it, but I don’t want to go either. I know they’re well-intentioned, that the idea is to create a safe space where trans, intersex and non-binary people can swim and change without fear, but I’m not a great believer in segregating people. I’d feel second-class, like I was sneaking in to use a space I’m not supposed to be in.

    Trans, intersex and non-binary people shouldn’t need safe spaces. There is nothing inherently dangerous about a changing area, or a swimming pool. And there’s nothing inherently dangerous about a trans person.

    The reason I’m scared to go swimming is because of people pushing the predator myth: we can’t let group X near our children or women because they’re violent, sexual predators. It was said about various ethnic minorities. It was said about gay, bisexual and lesbian people. And now it’s being said about people like me.

    These days no decent people mind sharing a changing room with people of different ethnicities, nationalities or sexualities, because they know that most people with different ethnicities, nationalities or sexualities are decent people too.

    I’d like to think decent people think the same about trans people, but in the current climate I’m too scared to test the water.

    Before I came out, I was scared of men. Now I’m scared of women too.

  • The truth about trans wars

    There was a good piece about anti-trans hysteria in the (Glasgow) Herald this week. I know the author, Oceana Maund, a trans activist who couldn’t be more different to the lazy, malicious stereotype of trans activists as angry young people wearing masks and shouting. Maund is a brave and thoughtful person who seeks to build bridges, not burn them.

    The combination of being physically assaulted in public on two previous occasions and the fact that I am a single parent with a teenage daughter means I am probably more concerned than most.

    In Scotland the law means that anyone found using public toilets or changing rooms for nefarious purposes, regardless of what they are wearing or what is between their legs, will rightly face prosecution and severe penalty.

    To claim that trans women are likely to use toilets and changing rooms for anything other than the designed purpose demonises an already misrepresented minority.

    The piece is on the long side, but fair play to the Herald for running it: it once more debunks the complete bullshit being spread about proposed reforms to the Gender Recognition Act.

  • Automatic Trans Mission

    I mentioned Jake Graf’s wedding a few weeks ago; now I’m sharing one of his films.

    I was reminded of it this morning when I called to change my car insurance policy. After going through all the security questions I got stuck in a bit of a loop.

    “Okay, and your name is?”

    – Carrie.

    “No, sorry, I need your name now.”

    – It’s Carrie.

    “No, I mean *your* name.”

    – It’s Carrie. I’m the policy holder. Carrie Marshall.

    “But it says here… it says Ms.”

    – I know, your system doesn’t support Mx. I’m transgender.

    “But…”

    Bear in mind that the very first question he’d asked me in the call was “can I take your name, please?”

    Eventually we agreed that my name was indeed Carrie, but he wasn’t happy about it. I lost count of the number of times in our short conversation the agent asked, “are you sure there isn’t anything else you need to inform us about?”

    It’s annoying, but thankfully it doesn’t happen very often: when I called my bank the other day to try and resolve a name issue (RBS has been trying and failing to change my name on two accounts since November), the chap on the phone used my old name. I hadn’t even noticed, but he spent so long apologising I was starting to worry that the call might end with him committing seppuku.

    And as Jake’s video shows, sometimes people are not just okay, but actually brilliant.

    I was calling my insurer because I’d bought a car (one with an auto box, hence the puntastic title of this blog post). The guy I’d bought it from wasn’t just okay with having a trans customer; he was delighted. In a previous life he’d ran nightclubs and as we waited for various computer things and branch things to happen he regaled me with frankly unrepeatable tales of some of his more outré trans friends’ tomfoolery and shenanigans. And he gave me a really good deal too.

    There’s a cliché: people buy from people. And it’s a cliché because it’s true. I’ve recommended (both personally and on review sites, Google etc) businesses for no other reason than they made me feel like a valued customer and I wanted to tell other people about it. I won’t be doing the same for my current insurer.

  • Absent friends

    I went as me to see Manic Street Preachers at the SSE Hydro tonight, assuming (correctly) that if any band’s crowd would be cool with trans people it’d be theirs.

    But it was still a really big deal, a major step for me. I spent most of today absolutely shitting myself at the prospect.

    I go to the Hydro a lot, but before tonight I hadn’t gone as me. It’s too big, too busy, capable of holding 12,000 people. That’s a lot of potential trouble when you’re tall and visibly trans. The long walkway you travel post-gig can be pretty rowdy too. For a while I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to do it.

    So I’ve been working up to it. The bar of King Tut’s, capacity a few hundred. The new bit of the Royal Concert Hall, capacity 500. The O2 ABC, capacity 1,200. The O2 Academy, 2,500.

    And tonight, the 12K Hydro.

    Not so much out of my comfort zone as on a completely different planet to it.

    And like every other big step I’ve had to take, I had to do it solo. No wingman to give me confidence. No voice offering assurance that I can do this. No shoulder to cry on when the sheer enormity of it all seems too much.

    It’s a hard road to walk. Harder still to walk alone.

  • “We need help – we can’t do this on our own”

    The F Word has an interesting interview with Paris Lees that’s well worth your time.

    The amount of column inches that have been devoted to abusing trans people. The amount of energy and money! It’s like there are these endless resources to do this and yet there is no evidence that trans people are causing problems.

    …We’re less than 1% of the population. For all the talk of a “trans lobby”, the truth is we don’t have any MPs. I think we have one high court judge. We don’t have royalty or pop stars or chat show hosts.

    …We need help – we can’t do this on our own. We need people to be real allies and show up in solidarity.

  • The woman on the bus, the elephant in the room

    I had an appointment at the Sandyford clinic the other week. It’s where you go to get your official trans membership badge, where you learn the secret trans handshake and where you’re issued with your copy of the sinister transgender agenda. If you go often enough you get a free Richard Littlejohn voodoo doll.

    Gallows humour aside, it’s a place many trans people go because it’s the only gender identity clinic in the West of Scotland. The likelihood that you’ll be there at the same time as several other trans women is very high; the likelihood that you’ll be heading there at the same time as other trans women is high too. So it was hardly a huge surprise when I got on the bus and an older trans woman got on after me.

    If she’s reading this, I hope I’m wrong about you. I hope your life is full of joy and wonder, that the days are just packed and that everything I assumed about you was wrong. Because when I looked at you, I jumped to conclusions, all of them negative.

    You looked miserable in a shapeless coat and a dated wig. You avoided making eye contact with anybody, spent the short trip staring at the floor, your body language submissive. Don’t look at me. 

    You looked like somebody who’s learned that to be noticed is to attract the wrong kind of attention. 

    What I should have done when we got off the bus was to smile in recognition. Not in a “you’re busted!” way or to strike up a conversation; nobody feels particularly chatty on the way to a doctor’s appointment. Just an friendly acknowledgement from one marginalised person to another: I see you.

    What I actually did was to distance myself.

    I distanced myself because there were three young men hanging around the traffic lights and I was scared they’d notice me; notice you; notice us. Two trans women, ripe for mockery, maybe more. So I walked a little faster, the clip-clop of my heels faster than your footsteps in your flats. I chose self-preservation over solidarity, and of course the danger was entirely imagined. The men looked right through me, and right through you too. 

    I distanced myself because I was scared you’re a mirror. In my head I see two futures. In one, I’m happy. Still young, ish; fun and funny and fashionable and fulfilled with a loving family and a really hot girlfriend. That’s who I was trying to be that day in my skinny jeans, tunic top, Primark boots and take-no-shit swagger.

    And in the other I’m one of the transsexuals I remember from 1980s documentaries, miserable in unflattering florals, mooching round a tatty C&A while security guards stare. 

    Dowdy. Downtrodden. 

    I don’t fear much any more, but I fear that.

    You looked downtrodden, and God help me I acted like that was contagious.

    I distanced myself because like many people of my age and older, I grew up in a culture where trans women (and it’s always the women) were portrayed as pitiful or perverts or both. Some of that stuck. You can’t swim in polluted water and come out clean. It’s why it took me so long to be proud of who I am, and why I wasn’t proud enough to walk too close to you.

    I’m deeply ashamed of that. It’s not who I want to be, who I strive to be. Everybody has the voice urging them to throw others under the bus to save their own skin, but I try not to listen to it: I don’t want to be the one with Anne Frank in the attic shouting “she’s in the loft!” whenever I hear footsteps on the path outside. And yet all I needed to do was smile, and I didn’t do it.

    If you’re reading this, I’m sorry. You deserve better. We all do. 

  • The way that we walk, the way that we talk, it’s there in our thoughts

    Today’s headline is really just an excuse to mention Girls Aloud.

    Here’s a fun Twitter thread about biology and bio-hacking. It’s sent me to Amazon to find out more about epigenetics, which seems awfully interesting and exciting.


    Please do read the whole thing. I wish biology had been explained so vividly when I was at school.