For the fourth time, I’m seeing someone to talk over my issues.
The first time it was cognitive behavioural therapy to address a decade’s worth of nightly panic attacks. It didn’t help as far as the panic attacks went – being on SSRIs did – but it also gave me the opportunity to talk about traumatic events that I had witnessed. That was good. I also learned how to think about how habits and layout can influence thoughts. I don’t remember how long this therapy went on for; maybe a few months.
The second time was to deal with relationship issues. Through that I learned to deal with conflict, as I would previously shut down emotionally. I also learned to communicate anger constructively, which was something I didn’t know how to do. I had previously been verbally abusive when angry. The things I learned there were invaluable. I feel like we did this for six months to a year.
The third time wasn’t really by choice – I had to in order to acquire a referral in order to see a doctor that might prescribe hormone replacement therapy. There I was able to talk about my gender identity and issues with my parents – many of which weren’t related. I walked out with a better sense of my own identity. I did that for five months.
The fourth time has just started. I’m going in to find ways to address what I believe to be my codependency issues and behaviours that can harm people I care about. I also want to talk about grief and loneliness.
During Pride week, a beautiful mural was erected to commemorate for the transgender women of colour who had been murdered over the past year. The mural featured the names of the murdered women, among them Sumaya who had been killed in Toronto earlier this year. The artist behind the mural was Kalkidan Assefa, whose website is here.
The original mural erected at the end of August during Capital Pride 2015.
This mural was vandalized this week, with the messages “all lives matter”, “no double standard” and “you’ve been warned.”
The vandalized mural, top, in September 2015. The original mural going up with the names of the murdered transgender women of colour, bottom.
The vandalized mural was subsequently painted over with the message “If all lives matter then why are the stories of trans women of colour continually erased?” along with “black lives matter.” This too was defaced within a day.
This is unfortunately unsurprising for Ottawa. The Sandra Bland mural that had gone up this past summer in honour of the American black woman who died while under police custody had also been defaced within days of going up. This mural was painted by Kalkidan Assefa and Allan André. Her name was covered up with “All Lives Matter”, likely to repudiate the “Black Lives Matter” movement that was active in the United-States despite having no explicit reference to the latter in this mural.
Also in Ottawa this year, posters that were affirming women’s rights to live free of sexual harassment were defaced with messages like “sexism”, “gender profiling” and “man haters.”
This backlash goes beyond posters. When an anti-racism campaign at the University of Ottawa sought to provide a space for people of colour to discuss their experiences, white people in this city deemed it so insupportable as to raise a big enough fuss to receive national attention. Those who experience racism in this city were thus denied a space to talk about racism, because white people felt they were excluded.
When a group is habituated to having all voices and spaces catering to them, they regard that as normal, and any challenge to that hegemony as unfairness and being oppressed. They’ve never had the perspective of living in a world where spaces are regularly inaccessible and the voices don’t represent them, which is what minorities in this city have been habituated to.
And so when there’s a little challenge to the order of things, and a minority is granted a small public or private space to talk about their issues, like a support group or little corner in the Village, members of the majority will misinterpret that as being discriminated against and work to shut these few voices down. In this city, over and over these efforts to silence those few voices have found success.
Ottawa was already the city that spits on trans people, throws stuff at them, calls them faggots and freaks, has politicians work against them, and beats them up. Now it’s the city that defaces murals honouring those that were murdered with “you’ve been warned.”
Ottawa is many things, but a place that is safe for trans people and especially a trans women of colour it is not.
In the last six months I’ve given four talks on trans-related topics. I thought I’d share three of them here; the fourth didn’t involve slides like these ones.
The Trans 101: The Workplace
The Trans 101: The Workplace (slides can be seen here) was an base level introduction to vocabulary around trans people, dispelling misconceptions, and discussing discrimination. I gave this at my workplace.
The audience were managers / HR who had very little exposure to trans people other than through popular media. The point I tried to drive through these slides is that discrimination usually doesn’t look like what we’ve been taught it looks like through movies and television; it’s typically a lot more subtle and defensible.
Transmisogyny 101
The Transmisogyny 101 (slides available here), was a talk I gave at Algonquin college. The audience were students that were part of the university’s support group for queer & trans folk. I assumed they already had base-level familiarity with trans issues and privilege.
The purpose of these talks was to talk about how transphobia is particularly directed at women, the representation of femininity vs. masculinity in our society, and how there’s a bias against femininity.
The Trans Narrative & Involuntary Therapy
The third talk was on the Trans Narrative & Involuntary Therapy (slides available here.) I gave this talk to members of the Canadian Counseling and Psychotherapy Association.
The talk was to dispel myths I had encountered time and time again in the policy / counseling sphere around trans people and to talk about how these myths translated into barriers that hurt trans people. I assumed they had some basic awareness of trans people, though that proved incorrect.
Note: I’ve replaced slurs for trans women in the quotes below with the appropriate terms. These substitutions are identified with brackets.
The bill informally known as the “trans rights bill” is dead.
Bill C-279 was introduced in September 2011 as An Act to amend the Canadian Human Rights Act and the Criminal Code (gender identity and gender expression.) It died in August 2015 when the parliamentary session came to a close before the bill could reach royal assent. I’ve already discussed the bill’s contents, origin and much of its progress through Parliament in a previous blog entry.
This outcome was not a surprise. Efforts to introduce these protections had been going on since 2005 with C-392 (38th Parliament), C-326 (39th Parliament) and C-389 (40th Parliament.) None had passed. The Conservatives opposed Bill C-279 and the party had a majority in both the House of Commons and Senate.
Three years after this latest bill was introduced it was recognized with fair certainty that this effort would also fail. As the MP who introduced the bill surmised in June 2014:
“It’s dead,” Randall Garrison, the Member of Parliament championing the bill, told me. “I’ve given up hope.”
The Conservatives didn’t merely oppose the bill. They fundamentally supported the discrimination that this bill was seeking to address. Over the course of Bill C-279’s journey through Parliament, the party would establish itself as the largest openly transphobic organization in Canada.
The Conservative’s actions would be correctly identified as “discrimination” and “transphobia” by mainstream press like Maclean’s.
“How discrimination got in the way of the federal transgender rights bill: How transphobia got the last word in the battle over Bill C-279″ reads Maclean’s article.
The Conservatives would deliberately stoke public fear around transgender women by portraying their use of innocuous activities, such as using washrooms, as a threat to (presumably cisgender) women and children.
This fear mongering was done to the detriment of transgender people, 97% of whom had already avoided public spaces out of fear, including 57% who had avoided washrooms. The Conservatives would also repeatedly claim that recognizing the rights of trans people would enable sexual assaults despite being informed in both the House of Commons and Senate that this was factually false. Not a single jurisdiction in Canada or the US that had passed similar anti-discrimination laws had experienced a rise in sexual assault as a result.
Brae Carnes in a men’s bathroom holding the sign “Plett put me here.” This would be one of many high-profile campaigns that would occur in response to Conservatives modifying Bill C-279 to legalize bans on trans women from the women’s washrooms.
Conservative MP Rob Anders’ statements in Parliament were emblematic of these attitudes. Following a petition he wrote up for his constituents to sign, he stated:
Mr. Speaker, I stand today to present, on behalf of thousands of people who sent these to my office, petitions in opposition to Bill C-279, otherwise known as “the bathroom bill”, that would give [transgender women] access to women’s public washroom facilities. These constituents feel that it is the duty of the House of Commons to protect and safeguard our children from any exposure and harm that would come from giving a [woman] access to women’s public washroom facilities. I present thousands of signatures on behalf of the riding in Calgary West, and I know that there are many others that have gone to other members in this place.
Former president of the Conservative Party Senator Plett, appointed to the senate by the current Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper, would make the link with pedophiles:
Whether or not it is called “the bathroom bill,” it allows for pedophiles to take advantage of legislation that we have in place.
I want you to tell me, Senator Mitchell, when you say that 0.3 per cent of society is trans, how their rights can trump the rights of my five-year-old granddaughter walking into a change room, a [transgender woman] walking into a bathroom.
Conservative MP Dean Allison suggested that transgender people were getting “special rights” if they were allowed to use the correct washroom and repeated the myth that it would enable sexual assault:
The fact is that creating a right to gender identity and gender expression would likely result in [transgender girls] having access to girls’ bathrooms. As the bill would also give special rights to those who simply consider themselves to be transgendered, the door would be open to sexual predators having a legal defence to charges of being caught in a women’s washroom or locker room.
Mr. Dyck, you have in your testimony used a comparison of trans people not being allowed in certain areas. You’ve used a comparison of Blacks not having been able to be allowed. Mr. Garrison used the same analogy when I asked him about my five- or six-year-old granddaughter not wanting to go into the bathroom or a change room with a [transgender woman]. He inferred that it was the same as my granddaughter not wanting to go into the bathroom with an Asian or a Jew. I found that tremendously offensive. I do not believe there is any comparison, when we talk about colour or race, to somebody who is [transgender].
Beyond the transphobic rhetoric, the Conservative’s choice of witnesses in committee was further evidence that the party was more vested in drumming up irrational fears of trans people than in discussing the issues they faced. Issues like:
50% of trans people made less than $15,000 a year.
87% of trans students felt unsafe in places at school.
39% of trans people had been turned down a job for being trans.
34% of trans people had been subject to verbal threats or harassment.
20% of trans people had been assaulted due to their gender identity/expression.
The Conservatives did not bring on a single transgender person or expert familiar with transgender issues to serve as a witness on this bill about transgender discrimination. They instead brought on the likes of REAL Women of Canada who had never worked with trans people and whose only link to the matter was their established prejudice towards trans people. REAL Women of Canada objected to trans people being accepted at all as evidenced by their press release:
Please ASAP fax, email or phone your MP to ask that he or she oppose Bill C-279, with or without amendments. The major effect of this bill is that transgendered, transsexual and sexually confused individuals will be given full protection re employment, services, housing, etc in public institutions under federal jurisdiction. These behaviors will be “normalized”, accepted and protected.
Meanwhile, on the legislative front, protections for gender expression were stripped from the bill in exchange for a chance at a modicum of support from the Conservatives. That was half the bill. As NDP MP Randall Garrison explained in February 2013:
We need the compromise amendments in order to hang on to the support of the 15 Conservatives who voted in favour at 2nd reading and then the bill will pass. We are hopeful he will allow them.
“This act will no longer allow [transgender women] to identify as female and gain access to vulnerable persons,” he said during the meeting.
This is the eviscerated bill that would die in August 2015.
The Conservatives got their way. They used a lot of vitriolic rhetoric and fear mongering to get there. And in doing so, the Conservative Party of Canada would establish themselves as the largest openly transphobic organization in this country.
Many Conservatives seemed unable to accept that they had been prejudicial to trans people. Senator Plett who rewrote C-279 to legalize discrimination had this to say when he was called transphobic:
I am offended that Ms. Page has implied that I am “transphobic”, and I am appalled that she would suggest my amendment could have anything to do with violence against the community.
Similarly, Conservative MP Joan Crockatt who voted against the trans rights bill didn’t see any contradiction with wanting to march in the Calgary Pride parade. An event that is for, among other things, supporting trans people. The Conservative Party wanted to march in Vancouver Pride, and saw no issue with doctoring the Trans Equality Now pledge that all participating political parties had to sign as to remove the actual pledge for trans equality. They did not end up marching.
As a final note, it was suggested that the Conservatives purposefully stalled the bill as to kill it. NDP MP Randall Garrison expressed that this might be their intent in an interview he gave in November 2014:
“I believe their intention is to kill the bill by delay,” Mr. Garrison told The Globe and Mail.
It certainly seems plausible. The bill’s lack of progress was an anomaly. 43 private members bills were passed in this parliamentary session. Of those, 39 were introduced after Bill C-279. The extent to which this was delayed was so notable that it was reported on by newspapers at the time, including The Globe & Mail and The Ottawa Citizen.
I had heard about that adage come my 20th birthday. What I interpreted that expression to mean at that time and what it’s ultimately meant for me as I look back here on my 30th birthday are two very different things.
When I was 20, I thought that I was more or less the person I was going to be for the rest of my life. I expected to finish university and get a job with a decent pay for entry-level, a pension, and occasional raises. Enough to afford the middle-class lifestyle. I was going to make enough money to have a car and eventually a house. In a way that wasn’t too different to how I thought of the last two, I was also going to have a girlfriend. “Finding myself” meant getting to that life.
What I didn’t count on was for what I considered to be important to completely change. To grow up in a way that was perhaps more pronounced than the emotional growth I had accomplished between my 10th and 20th birthday.
Twenty year old me would be horrified and completely disheartened if it was known what my life would look like. No well paying job; for almost the entire decade I’d make less hourly than what 20 year old me was making during my summer job. No house; I’d live with four roommates by the close of my twenties. No car. No girl for the entire decade. A boyfriend for a good chunk – which would have horrified 20 year old me, but not as much as finding out I’d be trans.
I’m happy now. Happier than if I had gotten the house and car. I think that if I had had those things, it would have just acted as a buffer, to delay – perhaps indefinitely – any introspection and emotional growth.
Those changes didn’t happen because I wanted to. They happened out of necessity, after the rug was pulled from under me throughout my twenties.
First it was the job. I had taken a degree at university in a field I didn’t love because I thought it would secure me a career while keeping what I did love (coding) as a hobby. I did get a job out of university. But a few months later, the Great Recession hit. My degree became useless. For the six years that followed, I witnessed continuous lay-offs. I watched a single grandmother raising her grand child be told not to come in tomorrow, and being skeptical that she’d find a decent pay again. Staff were being told that they had to “volunteer” for a 20-40% pay cut. Failure to “volunteer” resulted in termination. I was asked to make software that would eliminate six jobs – under the understanding that not doing so would see my own employment terminated. These experiences reshaped how I thought about employment. Out of necessity, I had to question why I wanted things like a house and challenge my perceptions on what role work should have in my life.
During that same time I spent two years looking another job. I applied to over a hundred places. Nothing. I think only two of them ever got back to me. All my friends in the private sector were in similar situations, so I had little reason to think things would get better.
Much of the introspection that would lead to my realizations about my gender identity followed this helplessness I felt in terms of this place where I spent eight hours of my day. In the absence of all else, it forced me to focus on personal development, and making me happy through changes that I had the power to make. It didn’t introduce the idea of transition in my life but did accelerate it’s exploration and resolution.
This would lead to another big change, which is the physical aspect of self love. I can look at myself in the mirror and not see everything that’s wrong now. That only came after I was able to transition. It was also further enhanced by also finally finding a coping strategy for my anorexia that worked.
Going back to the idea of change happening due to necessity, some of the most important developments in my emotional growth can be attributed to my boyfriend of the time. My lack of emotional maturity was threatening my relationship.
I had inherited from my parents really bad conflict resolution skills. I remember my mom crying at the bottom of the stairs saying she was pushed. I remember my step-dad venting with his anger at me when I was a teen by telling me that he’d kick my ass. This way to handle anger was all I knew so I emulated that. My boyfriend challenged me on using these tactics, and ultimately I saw a therapist with him to among other things address how I handled conflict resolution. I walked away with tools that really helped me and that I use to this day.
It was also through my boyfriend that I learned that saying no when something wasn’t right for me was okay. I had come from a background where my agency was regularly disregarded and met with emotional manipulation. My capacity to say “no” was a casualty of that environment. As my boyfriend helped me see my self-worth, I was able to set and enforce boundaries. My mental health improved even more as a result. Unfortunately, not before I was molested by two older gay men. Being able to stand up for my “no” would have been useful then.
My boyfriend and I broke up and he became my best friend.
It was in my twenties that I came out, first as gay, then as trans. Being in this position forced me to question the things I had believed in in terms of what fair treatment of people looked like. As a straight white man, I thought most people making claims of discrimination were being unreasonable. I had never experienced discrimination, and projecting my own experiences on everyone, believed then that it was a made-up problem. I assumed that whatever issues they tossed up to discrimination was their own fault. “Real” discrimination was a thing of the past or happening in other countries. Doing anything to address this made-up problem of discrimination was what would be unfair. Reverse discrimination even.
Coming out first as a “faggot” and then as a “tranny” provided a harsh dose of reality.
It hit home when I witnessed those I love apply the same prejudiced beliefs I once held. What I saw as treating me with respect they regarded derisively as being “politically correct.” Familiar words. I finally started to listen to others when they spoke of their dealings with racism, sexism, transphobia, etc. I came to understand that the words of minorities about their own experiences were far more relevant than whatever someone that wasn’t part of that minority had to say. I stopped projecting my own experiences. I learned empathy. It allowed me to be a better person to others. I wish I could say I was a good enough person before to come about these realisations without being made to, but that’s not so.
So as I write this a few days after my thirtieth birthday, I can say that “finding myself” in my twenties was about growing up. Out of necessity more than anything. The expression suggests some finality, but this is still a work in progress.
What I can say is that I’m happy and much better person to both myself and others. I love myself now.
My thirtieth anniversary was rather subdued – I celebrated by buying DQ burgers and going to bed at 6 pm. But it was an important achievement – because I made it. I’m still alive, and that wasn’t a given as I was going through my twenties.
I think I’ll be okay now. I think that’s what my twenties gave to me – the growth I needed to know just that.
