Transgender Day of Visibility…

Can I be invisible now? Or at least have a cookie?

Originally published on Medium.com, Mar 31, 2022

Photo by the author

It’s another Transgender Day of Visibility, and I can already see all the social media signs that this one will be a doozy.

The Transgender Day of Visibility (TDoV) is an annual awareness day celebrated around the world. The day is dedicated to celebrating the accomplishments of transgender and gender nonconforming people, and raising awareness of the work that still needs to be done in the interest of equlity and justice. It has also become an informal special day of action by others, with rather different interests.

The first thing I saw on Medium was an article called 
“What Happens If Trans Women Aren’t Women?” The author argues for the sincerity of people dedicated to pushing transgender women out of safe spaces, and in many cases out of visibility, and that trans women should just be content to be “trans women”, “trans men” should just be “trans men”, while somehow still feeling validated and recognized as human beings with human rights.

While I find the goal of a new culture that simply recognizes all human beings as human to be admirable, I’m not willing to sacrifice my own life, health, and happiness to the abstract hope that such a culture might emerge in a few hundred years. In a patriarchal culture hell-bent on demanding all follow its broken binary model, I need to find a way to live my remaining life while being recognized as a person, not “other”, the bogeyman, or the Monster in a rousing chase with pitchforks and torches raised.

Over to the mail app, where I find the usual collection of spewage has grown for TDoV, while mixed with pleas for funding and a few press releases. The mail filters have disposed of most of the rubbish already, and a quick pass weeds out the rest.

I still spend a few minutes every day checking on Facebook content, as that is how some of us senior citizens stay in touch with each other. Facebook figured out my gender-variant nature long ago, and the mighty algorithm sells ads into my feed which specified just the right keywords. There are the usual scams and such, along with a few fresh offers from online churches to help me repair my sinful ways. Yah. Been there, done that. Conversion therapy didn’t work in 1970 even with medical folks behind it, and it still doesn’t work today.

I check Twitter for activity for a few other friends. Fellow trans folks and allies have put up the requisite TDoV posts, naturally. Just as night follows day, the usual transmisic folks have shown up with their endless comments and shared wisdom. A quick scroll shows that many in the debate firmly believe in their 6th grade 1960s biology text as the summation of all human knowledge, while other practice the highly skilled strategy of the “ad-hominem” rebuttal.

Yes, it is once again the Transgender Day of Visibility. Where’s my damn cookie?

Michelle’s Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookies

• 1 c butter, softened (2 sticks)
• 1/2 c white sugar (100 g)
• 1 1/2 c packed brown sugar (310 g)
• 3 eggs
• 1 tbsp vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp blackstrap molasses
• 3 c all-purpose flour (375 g)
• 1 tsp baking soda OR 2 tsp calcium carbonate — baking grade
• 1/2 tsp salt (optional)
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 2/3 tsp nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp allspice
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 1/2 tsp ginger
• 2 c semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Cream together the butter, white sugar, and brown sugar until smooth. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the vanilla and molasses. Add baking soda to batter along with salt if needed. Add in the spices; cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, ground cloves, and ginger. Stir in flour until smooth, then add the chocolate chips. Drop by large spoonfuls onto ungreased pans, preferably lined with parchment paper.

Bake for about 10–12 minutes in the preheated oven, or until edges are nicely browned.

 

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Me and My Shadow

Response to Logan’s Corner Writing Prompt

Originally published in "Logan's Corner", Mar 28, 2022

Image by Author

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I performed this piece for Mt Diablo Unitarian Universalist Church, on Sunday March 27, 2022, as the Call to Worship in a service talking about shadow and light, Jungian philosophy, and the Transgender Day of Visibility! Logan’s (@logansilkwood) writing prompt “Tell your story with different words” inspired the style of this particular retelling.

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We each have a shadow, of course. When the light is right, we can see it there, unique to each of us, yet two-dimensional, and taking the color and texture of the surface it happens to be cast upon. It’s a bit like a chameleon that way, more or less holding our outline while blending in, unnoticed and safely ignored.

Shadows are safe, you see. Harmless, blending in, drawing no attention. That which lies in shadow is hidden from the light. That can be useful. We can hide things in shadow.

Sometimes, we can even hide ourselves. It’s a matter of safety, you see. When hiding within a shadow we are seen as blending in, drawing no attention. We don’t risk making others uncomfortable with our presence. We don’t risk provoking outrage or violence through our visibility.

Living one’s life hiding in the shadows has its own costs. There’s the effort of maintaining that shadow, keeping up a socially acceptable, safe but dull presence to hide behind. There’s the impact of having to remain hidden in the shadows, isolated, feeling blue, and dealing with that very uncomfortable blend of depression and anxiety that arises over time.

Some of us are told that this is how we must live, that the only acceptable way of living one’s life is appearing to be socially acceptable, safe, not making others uncomfortable with our presence. Oh, this is rarely an explicit message. We are told how we must live by the jokes others tell about folks who are a little different, by the horror stories told around campfires and mass media that associate being different with monstrously bad behavior. There’s an implicit caution that being a little too different will result in our being seen as the butt of jokes, or the horrific monster menacing others and provoking the wrath of the villagers.

It is a poor way to live ones entire life, just to avoid making others a bit uncomfortable, while worrying that if discovered, the villagers might break out the pitchforks and torches. This tends to take the joy out of life.

Some of us are fortunate enough to enjoy the privilege of actually living our lives as ourselves. We may live in places where the law actually forbids ending us with a quick round of “monster and the villagers” or prohibits our being forced into treatments designed to push us back into shadow as a sort of reparative therapy. In these places we can actually step out of the shadow into the light.

Stepping out of our own shadow and revealing ourselves feels like a very dangerous move to many of us. All those bad jokes, the thoughtless comments, and the horrific media depictions have conditioned us to expect the worst. We often need to see that it is possible to live our lives as ourselves. We need to see that beyond the transient troubles we might experience, that there is an opportunity to find joy and peace to replace that depression and anxiety.

We need to receive that message that we will be all right. We need to know that others have done this, that they are thriving outside of the safety of shadow.

It’s going to be all right. When we gather on the side of love, supporting one another, it’s going to be all right.

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I’m Michelle Paquette, and my pronouns are She/Her/Hers.

This writing was inspired by the song “Me and my shadow”, written by Al Jolson, Billy Rose, and Dave Dreyer in 1927.

Writing Prompt: Tell Your Story with Different Words
A “Logan’s Corner” Writing Prompt medium.com

 

I’m Trans. I’m Human. I’m a Weird Old Lady.

A response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt: I’m LGBTQ, but You Don’t Know THIS About Me.

Originally Published in

Prism & Pen

Jan 25, 2022

Photo by Michelle Paquette

My wardrobe has entirely too many dresses, and I need to do something about all the shoes. All just suburban girl problems, which would be nothing really, but for an accident of birth.

You see, when I was born, the doctor told my folks they had a healthy baby boy. He was wrong, of course, but the mistake was understandable. Still, that little technical oversight makes me a transgender person, with a gender identity that doesn’t match what Mom and Dad were told.

Does knowing that I am a transgender person mean that you now know everything about me? That one little word hardly describes my life and how I live it. I would have to say it is almost irrelevant to my daily life. Take Thursday, for example…

I woke up about 8:30 in the morning, in bed with my wife and three cats. The cats were very well-rested, no doubt recovered already from walking back and forth across us at about four in the morning. My wife and I were a bit groggy but started our day with a kiss. I propped myself up in bed while she went into the hall to fetch our morning coffees.

Coffees in hand, we both sat in bed, poking at our gadgets. This is a bit of a morning ritual for our life as retired folks. I checked my mail and found I had a new request to deliver a presentation on “Magnetic Loop Antennas” via Zoom to an amateur radio club meeting in Northern California. I checked my calendar, and penciled in the date, sending an acknowledgment back to the club’s scheduling person.

We flipped through the news, and Laurie shared a few funny posts on Facebook with me. I don’t do Facebook anymore, as someone went through and reported dozens of my old posts, resulting in a ban on my account. So it goes.

I got a second cup of coffee for the two of us, and while my wife sipped hers, I put on my exercise clothes and headed downstairs for a light breakfast with my coffee, half of a homemade bran muffin, and my morning workout. I try to do about 45 minutes a day on an elliptical trainer, something I have kept up for about 15 years now. I found it was easier on the knees and ankles than jogging, and more practical considering the weather here in the Pacific Northwest.

After my workout, I toweled off and changed to old denim jeans and a sweater. I’ve been upgrading a storage space, our garage attic, to be usable as a workroom. That has meant insulating the space and putting up interior walls and the ceiling, all meeting the local building code. I’m nearly done, with walls and a shiplap sloping ceiling in place, and am preparing to put in flooring.

Photo by Michelle Paquette

Today’s project is to make baseboard moulding, using several lengths of leftover shiplap board. I set up the table saw to cut 2 3/8” strips from the boards after trimming off one side. I then set up the table router to first smooth the rough cuts on the strips, and then switched to a Roman ogee bit to shape the upper edge of each strip, with a result that looks similar to classic “Coronado” moulding in a 2 1/4” height.

My wife takes a break from her day and helps me with cleaning out the work area, moving remaining lumber and moulding pieces to the garage, and I clear away the sawdust with the shop vacuum. I’ll still need to do a little prep work, and then I can put in the flooring.

Photo by Michelle Paquette

My wife, her sister who lives with us, and I have a family dinner every night, sitting down at the table together. I’m cooking tonight, like most nights, and leave work in that room behind to start dinner. Tonight I’ll be preparing meatloaf, butternut squash, cream biscuits with sausage gravy, along with a spinach and romaine salad with citrus dressing. I generally prepare everything from scratch, as I find it tastes better, and can be healthier for us. I also find cooking and baking to be very enjoyable activities.

We sit down to dinner at about six in the evening and chat about the news, goofy events, politics, and other irrational human behaviors. My sister-in-law tells a funny story about the hummingbirds that visit the feeder outside her window, engaging in a territorial battle over the sugar water that helps them get through the winter.

After dinner, my wife did the cleanup, following the long-standing policy of “I cooked, you clean” we operate under. While she did the cleanup, I put the first coat of paint on the new moulding, and then it was my turn to clean up a bit, removing the paint from my brush and my hands. We kicked back to relax with a little dessert my wife put together, ice cream with toppings, and watched an episode of “The Expanse” on TV. Finally, we did our evening ablutions, and teeth brushed, headed to bed.

Did anything about being transgender inform you about my day, my skills, or any other aspects of my life? Did that one little adjective tell you much of anything about me?

I do have too many dresses and shoes, things I once wore in daily life before daily life became all about social distancing and sheltering in place. I considered myself to be high femme in my presentation at one point, but now, on days where travel can be limited to wandering between bedroom, kitchen, and living room, soft old denim, and comfy sweaters dominate my daily wear.

My therapist once asked me, very early in my transition, what I expected to be when I reached the other side of the transition. I told her that I expected to be a weird old lady.

Goal achieved!

This story is a response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt: I’m LGBTQ, but You Don’t Know THIS About Me.

I’m LGBTQ, but You Don’t Know THIS About Me
A Prism & Pen writing promptmedium.com

Other stories so far →

Curious Treasures in a Kinky Closet
Cosmopolitan longings and a rural redneck upbringing produce tensionmedium.com

Running in High Heels and Other Skills of Trans Manhood
A response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt: “I’m LGBTQ, but You Don’t Know THIS About Me”medium.com

I’m Queer, but I Don’t Fit the Stereotypes
I’m a mess of contradictions. I’m human.medium.com

Her: I read your poem online. What’re you gay now?
There’s a simple short answer. Yes, and always.medium.com

After 15 Years of LGBTQ Living, I Forget I am Queer Sometimes
Queer is my most interesting trait for some, forgettable for me.medium.com

I’m A Lesbian Who Can Sew Cushions To Go With Your Couch
I’m LGBTQ but you don’t know this about memedium.com

 

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Happy Re-birth Day!

Legal documents for name and gender marker change. / Photo by Michelle Paquette

Five years ago this week I completed the process of having my name and gender officially recognized and recorded by the state. The laws and procedures have changed in California and other states since I did this, largely for the better.

In November I put together the various forms and documents needed for the legal gender and name change. The Transgender Law Center’s “ID Please” guide was very useful in doing this. The petition, doctor’s letters required for the gender marker change, and supporting forms were all filed with the court, and I was given a court date of January 13, 2017 to appear for the name change proceeding.

While waiting for the court date, I prepared the various documents that I would need in addition to a court order to revise my birth certificate, passport, and drivers license. I wanted to get all of this filed before January 20, 2017, as on that date a new federal administration would come into power, and I was concerned about how they might want to alter policies and procedures compared to the previous administration.

The court did offer the option of simply picking up the records on approval, after which I could file them with the county clerk. I decided to appear instead, just in case one of our local cranks decided to raise an objection to my name and gender change request.

Here’s my record of the day from 5 years ago.

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I think I just set some sort of record.

My petition to the Court requesting the government acknowledge my existence was heard this morning at 9:00 AM. The judge had a couple of other name change petitions this morning, and called us all forward by name, to be seated at the Petitioner and Respondant tables. Yes, I heard “Michelle Jean Paquette” called for the first time in that courtroom.

He then signed the documents, passing them to the clerk, who did something with the computer system and then handed us the documents. He told us to take them downstairs to Filing, get them recorded, and get certified copies. (Nothing unexpected there.) In at 9:00, and out with my court order recognizing me at 9:08.

I had the order filed at once, and got my certified copies, embossed with the court seal and stamp, and signed by the Clerk. By 10 AM I was home. I put the car away, grabbed my prepared materials, and added the court order copies. Time for a little walk to the Civic Center.

At 10:30 I was in the Post Office queue, and by 11 (they ARE the post office…) I had posted a packet to the Department of Vital Records, by priority mail, that should arrive Monday. That one requests the birth certificate under the new name and gender, and seals the old certificate.

At 11:10 I had checked in at Social Security and was in their queue. At noon, my Numident record had my new name and gender inserted. Off to the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV).

At 12:15 I was in the DMV queue. At 12:30, they rejected my paperwork, due to a blank ‘Case Number’ field in the doctor’s form. Kaiser doesn’t seem to actually have case numbers, after calling them, but my Medical Record Number would do. Yay cellphones. OK, I fill that in and get back in the queue. Eventually a really nice older woman calls my number, and we chat while she gets the system to open up the name/gender change screens. A manager has to sign the forms, and then unlock the screen so the clerk can enter the new information. At 2:08 PM, I have the traditional bad photo taken, and I am out the door, new license on the way, old license sealed.

Five hours from gavel strike to being done with the Birth certificate, Social Security card, and Drivers License. The SS and DMV cards will be here within 2 weeks. The birth certificate takes a few months, but everything is filed and in process before any administrative rule changes might happen.

Time for a lunch break… Or something…

Over the moon? Elated? Excited? Oh, you bet! I am definitely going to celebrate this event. I don’t know how, just yet, but it will happen.

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I had all of my documents, including a corrected passport in my hands by March of 2017. Sometimes, things really do go well. It’s worth celebrating and remembering those good days.

 

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There’s More To Me Than One Label Holds

Originally published in "An Injustice" magazine, Jan 2, 2022

For all the ‘purists’ who believe “chromosomes are everything” and “sex at birth is all”…

“If your crazy-ass theory of the world doesn’t ease the suffering of people whom you do not understand, maybe what you actually need is a new theory.”

— Jenny Boylan

The Whole Trans Thing

I personally reject the idea that the sex assigned at birth determines all of my identity, drawing a hard boundary around the gender role and presentation I am permitted, and forcing me to remain in one little box of gender identity.

I am aware of the potentialities of biology and biochemistry, and understand the path this body has taken from conception onward, resulting in a person who has transcended the boundaries that this culture draws around gender identity, presentation, and role. My awareness demands that I reject the ideologies that declare assigned sex at birth to be all, or even the primary determinant as to which cultural boundaries I must remain within.

I recognize that there are those whose ideology demands that they deny the validity of my experience, and who demand that I remain within the bounds set by assigned sex at birth.

I also recognize that there are those who accept part of my path and my experience, but for whom my origin and experience are insufficiently pure, ideologically unacceptable in summation, to be worthy of their chosen labels.

These various interacting ideologies and prejudgements make social interactions a bit of a minefield. Living in a culture that insists on a gender binary, and only accepts a narrow set of paths through life can lead to someone like me being rejected or viewed as undesirable by some others. While I personally do push hard for acceptance and recognition that people like me are human and valid, I don’t do this to deliberately others cause discomfort in others. I wouldn’t be comfortable pushing into a crowd that rejects my right to exist as myself.

I would, for example, no more demand entry to a “womyn-born-womyn” event than I would try to attend a Klu Klux Klan rally, for similar reasons. I’d be encountering people whose ideology denies the validity of my existence, and who would not be swayed by my presence.

I do have to be mindful that not all such groups label themselves clearly, and am careful to reach out to organizers in advance to make sure my attendance won’t cause difficulties. I’ve run into situations where a group might tolerate me, but other individuals there are uncomfortable with my presence. I generally will drop such groups, rather than have my presence cause issues.

This is an area that lies outside the experience of the typical white upper-middle-class cisgender woman, but is a part of my life. I am somewhat social and extroverted, and can’t really live my life closeted to avoid causing discomfort to some others.

There’s More To Me Than One Label Holds

That one word, “transgender”, is merely a descriptive adjective. In my case, it very roughly describes how I arrived at my current place in life with respect to gender. Other than that, it’s pretty much irrelevant.

That one label says almost nothing about my skills, my knowledge, or my lifetime of experiences. It doesn’t indicate anything about my carpentry skills. It certainly doesn’t indicate my skill as a technical instructor, an engineer, or cook. It doesn’t even indicate which power tools I’m proficient with!

Honestly, being a transgender person is almost irrelevant to my daily life. I get up, have my morning coffee(s) with my wife, work out, fix a late breakfast, and start in on the day’s projects. These projects might include:

• Finish carpentry on the garage attic I’m turning into a workroom
• Starting some bread
• Grocery shopping
• Preparing notes for a class I’m teaching
• Recording a training video
• Participating in assorted meetings and discussions, mostly online these days
• Doing a bit of research or writing

Later I may be preparing dinner for the household, doing a bit of cleaning or mending on the side, and eventually enjoying a nice meal with my wife and her sister. These are just human activities, the normal elements of my life that occupy my time.

Oh, they don’t occupy all of my time. There are cats to be played with, and of course my dear wife to attend to. We are not islands, after all!

My point is that I am a human being. I am not a political phenomenon, or an ideology to be debated. I can’t be easily defined out of existence.

The right to identify our own existence lies at the heart of one’s humanity. And so, we must heed their voices: ‘the woman that I am,’ ‘the man that I am.’

— US District Judge Carmen Consuelo Cerezo. (From a court order overturning the categorical ban on corrections to the gender marker in birth certificates. )

Finally, a cautionary note: Should you be prone to committing acts of assumption, know that your cultural stereotypes do not interest me, and if you make the mistake of assuming that I fit some stereotype, know that at some point I will happily, joyfully shock you.

Retired software engineer, holder of 19 patents, former nuclear engineering trainer and tech instructor, FCC license examiner and trainer, with experience in finish carpentry and baking. I also have cats…

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An Injustice!
A new intersectional publication, geared towards voices, values, and identities!aninjusticemag.com

Elevator speech — deadnaming and misgendering

I was recently asked to record an “elevator speech”, a short presentation to deliver a message with some impact. The topic I was l given was to explain why misgendering and deadnaming are considered to be harmful. One minute…

I tried the ‘start with why’ approach to grab attention, addressing the ‘why’ behind the need to use correct pronouns and names for the people they encounter through it’s emotional impact. The correct use of pronouns and meaning of “deadname” were presented separately, as part of a broader training.

Here’s what I came up with:

“A transgender person takes on a significant challenge in recognizing that they have a gender identity not matching what society insists they should be. Being dead named or misgendered, even if unintentional, hurts. It declares that their identity isn’t real, that we’ve been just humoring them, and their lived experience means nothing.

It hurts. It strikes like a hammer blow. Being deadnamed in the pharmacy or misgendered by a receptionist is humiliating, shakes one to the core, and brings a downward spiral of self-doubt for days.

Oh, but when we get it right, there’s joy. That simple affirmation, their name said, their gender seen, is tremendously positive. With this simple act, we affirm that we see them, their dignity, and we respect them. We build trust, with ourselves and our organization. They see this space not with apprehension but a sense of safety.”

The recording: https://youtu.be/MD8twgSDhxU

Baked Pumpkin Donuts

Baked Pumpkin Donuts

Prep Time: 10m

Cook Time: 15m

Yield: 18-20 donuts

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour

(Spices can be replaced with 2 tsp pumpkin pie spice mix)

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon allspice

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

1/8 teaspoon ground ginger

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 (15 oz) can pumpkin puree

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

⅓ cup vegetable oil

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 large eggs

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 F.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, pumpkin pie spices, baking powder, and salt.

In a separate bowl, mix together the pumpkin puree, sugar, oil, melted butter, vanilla, and eggs.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and beat until just combined.

Spoon the batter into a greased donut pan so that each mold is almost full. Smooth the tops with a small spatula or moistened finger

Bake the donuts for 15 to 18 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.

Put baked donuts on a rack to cool.

Frosting:

Make your favorite sugar glaze, or brush with melted butter and dip in a blend of 1/4 cup sugar and 2 teaspoons cinnamon