A week before starting to write this article, neo-Nazis showed up to harass families attending a storytelling event in Toronto. They were incensed that the story was read by a person wearing outfits associated with a different gender. Among the detractors was the leader of the Canadian Nationalist Party and members of White Lives Matter Toronto.
In the past year, gender diverse people across Canada and those who associate with them at story times like this and other events have faced violence that includes:
Last week I landed in Las Vegas. This was my fourth time in the city, but it had been a decade since my last stint. Work was paying; it was my second off-site with the start-up I’m at. I got there a few days early and rented a car, a brand new Jeep Compass with 500 miles on the odometer. It was a hell of a trip.
I arrived Saturday night. I stayed at the Mandalay Bay, before later moving to work-provided accommodations.
On Sunday morning, I walked the strip, picked up the car, and headed to Hoover Dam and Grand Canyon West with a teammate and their partner. The Hoover Dam was impressive; but Guano Point took my breath away.
On Monday, the three of us headed to Red Rock Canyon. We found out from a sign on the way that we needed reservations. With a failing cellphone connection, my teammate got the last open slot for us. We bouldered to one of the peaks, getting an inspired view of our surroundings. See if you can spot the rock climbers in the picture below!
That night, we hit up Hell’s Kitchen, Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant. The venue was fairly tacky, with large monitors showing footage of the eponymous show and it was as loud as a cafeteria despite the low number of tables. The Beef Wellington, however, was just about perfect, making it well worth the visit.
From Tuesday to Thursday it was meetings. In there was a team dinner and a trip to Omega Mart; a grocery store that wasn’t quite right. A freezer door, janitor closet, and display camping tent led to an alternate reality that echoed something that Aperture Science might dream up.
On Thursday after work, I hit up the pool, drinking a margarita. I then went to a Penn and Teller show organized by another teammate. It was funny and fresh. On Friday, I toured a bit more of the strip before heading to the airport.
For all the amazing time this was, I do need to talk about the transphobia. It’s not even May and Republicans have already submitted 500 bills in American legislatures in their aim to eradicate trans people. Meanwhile, having the television on the news a few minutes here and there produced the shots below. The effect of this moment is that I avoided using public washrooms, and dreaded interactions with officials.
This list is not definitive. It started with what was in my own collection, and then I expanded it to cover more titles that I was aware of or had read. Consider it just a snapshot, limited by my own access and bias. It covers up until 2024.
I’m generally uninterested in trans autobiographies beyond the early titles, as they give way to new genres that better contextualize the subsequent eras. To that end I omit Canadian books like Regarde-moi, maman! by Yanni Kin, Love Lives Here by Rowan Jetté Knox, and Pageboy by Elliot Page. For prolific creators, I only included a subset of their catalog – so there’s a lot missing here from Mirha-Soleil Ross, Xanthra MacKay, Vivek Shraya, Kai Cheng Thom, S. Bear Bergman, Ivan Coyote, Nina Arsenault, Sophie Labelle, Gabrielle Boulianne-Tremblay and Casey Plett. After the trans tipping point, publishers started to pay for more than ghostwritten autobiographies or poetry, and in came a proliferation of trans history books. I omit a bunch; I am biased towards earlier examples or those that bring substantive new information.
Not all works listed are by Canadians, trans people, or affirming. Their inclusion is to provide context for the social climate. I do mention some films, though largely exclude those featuring trans characters that were written, directed and portrayed by cis individuals like Boys Don’t Cry, Transamerica, Dallas Buyers Club, The Danish Girl, etc.
By in “Canada” I mean within the greater geographic boundaries of what is now the state of Canada. Similarly, “trans” reflects a recent and specific construction in a long global history of gender variance, one intertwined with colonialism, and it is loosely applied below.
On the first week of 2023, my friend Rita and I took to New Orleans.
We started driving around midnight on January 1st, to get to Montreal for the 6am flight. As soon as we dropped in NOLA, we took a Lyft and directed the driver along the route of a Second Line Parade, a wandering block party. We found them, and walked with them for two hours, before ending up at a car meet. Brightly coloured motorcycles and mounted police followed us.
Things just got better from there. The city is now one of my favourite destinations in the world; up there with Barcelona. It comes down to one thing: community.
Beyond that parade, there was outdoor gym equipment, free for use. We went to a community center, and found that the structured programs were all free including to outsiders. Rita went to a free crossfit session for queer folk. Public transit was $1.25. There was e-bikes you could rent everywhere (and we did). There was tons of parks and green space, reminiscent of Ottawa. I saw queer people everywhere. Everyone was super friendly, talking to you like you would a family member.
Beyond that, the food was amazing. I had one of the best meals of my life over at an Israeli joint called Shaya. I also had amazing po’boy, jambalaya, gumbo, white beans and rice, and fried chicken. Antique shopping was neat here, the music was good.
I was unimpressed with Bourbon Street or Frenchman Street, which is what I went in expecting the most out of. Just lots of tourists drinking. Instead, turns out, the magic is with the community.
I feel more anxious now in public than I did pre-pandemic.
I avoid washrooms, holding it in to the point of discomfort and minding what I drink when I go out. Change rooms are out of the question; last month I initially declined curling with colleagues because I thought I would need to use them. That also means I can’t go to the local Nordic spa or attend a spin class. I get nervous at the bookstore when I’m passing by the children’s section. Even shopping for clothes, especially something intimate like a sports bra, is incredibly fraught.
I’ve been talking about messaging that trans women like me are predators or threats for years. I’ve never been entirely able to ignore it because that was paired with a body of bad experiences where I was singled out and mistreated for being gender non-conforming in public – including running from a group of men wanting to beat me up. It’s been years since one of those incidents, but I can’t tell if it’s because I have barely gone out during the pandemic, or if it’s because things are indeed better.
