Blog

  • Casual Violence

    Casual Violence

    An acquaintance wrote a good piece the other day that discussed how violence was just another part of her everyday like brushing her teeth. She begins:

    So I’m playing a nice relaxing puzzle game online, trying to be a little less depressed so I can study for finals, and I happened to glance over at the chat board attached to the side of the game, and people are making jokes about “mutilating trannies.”

    “That’s me,” I think. “They’re talking about torturing and killing me.” Then, I keep playing my game.

    This is a normal thing to happen to me. Being confronted sporadically with the idea of my death and dismemberment as a joke is my status quo. I’ve internalized it as part of my routine. If I made an (honest) list of my daily activities, alongside brushing my teeth and feeding my cat would be worrying about being killed, and then worrying that were I to be killed, whether the newspapers would call me a man. When I get out of bed and groggily pull on a cami, I’m equally likely to think about getting a breakfast sandwich with extra bacon, and whether or not today is the day someone pulls a knife. I love pockets in dresses because they keep my hands warm and I can put pepper spray in them. I like bars, but I barely drink in public anymore because getting carded might mean getting raped. I budget for these things.

    I wanted to talk about that fear. I’m so habituated as to barely mention it or have to think about it too hard.

    It’s there though. I base hundreds of calculations around it each day. What I wear. How much I cover up. What section of the store I’ll visit. How I’ll peruse those areas. How I talk. How I walk. Which coffee shops I go to because of their bathroom arrangement. How I package explanations.

    There’s this perception that what I fear are isolated acts of aggression. The strangers who shout slurs at me from the streets for wearing a pretty dress. My acquaintances who were refused service. The people who beat up my friend.

    Such acts bear their mark. Were it a freak occurrence, it could be healed and relegated to time. But for every one of these gestures there’s ten weekly acts of micro-aggression to sustain it. Reminders of how I shouldn’t exist. They never cease.

    Those greater acts of aggression are not then the isolated misdeeds of a lone perpetrator. They are instead a minor and entirely predictable leap from a society deeply hostile to trans women. A hostility so normalized that it goes unnoticed. It is this invisibility that grants people the latitude to believe that the perpetrators act without support.

    In the end it’s not that single, small, leap to violence that causes me to live in fear.

    It’s the entire package.

    And it’s why I have a separate “for work” and “for living” clothes. Why I avoid medical care. Why I dread shopping in stores come summer when I won’t have my coat to protect me. Why I don’t go into some stores at all. Why I don’t ask for help when I do. Or try clothes on in change rooms. Why I selectively correct family and friends on pronoun usage. Why I avoid family events. Why I’m afraid to say anything back when someone shouts “fag” or “freak.” Why I don’t go out to the Byward market late when the drunks are out. Why I hold my pee in. Why I keep my hands as fists in my pockets. Why I avoid sitting at benches if there’s a playground nearby. It’s even why I chose this name as it lacked the gendered association that could out me.

    Success in Perspective

    We are in a period of success stories.

    There’s a handful of trans people in pop culture now. They’re known for things other than being trans. Actress Laverne Cox plays a prominent character in television’s Orange is the New Black. Lana Wachowski most famously directed the The Matrix. Laura Jane Grace is singer guitarist for punk band Against Me! The teen television drama Degrassi had a central character who was trans. The weekly Canadian news magazine Maclean’s had a sympathetic front page piece about trans and gender variant children.

    Meanwhile there’s legislation passing in provincial and federal jurisdictions. It was only fifteen years ago that major gay rights organizations like the Human Rights Campaign refused to advocate for trans people citing political viability.

    We are in a defining decade and it’s the best it’s ever been. But best as compared to what. In some sense these are very pitiful things to call victories. A handful of people in the media. An interview where the subject isn’t dehumanized.

    Even then, these moments remain underwhelming exceptions in a deeply hostile environment. It does little to change why I live in fear.

    The Whole Package

    So let’s go back to this idea of the whole package. I’m seen as unfit for this world.

    I know the province I live in thinks of me as unfit. They require trans people to undergo sterilization in order to change their gender marker on their identification; to the detriment of those who will have to use them.

    I know the medical establishment thinks of me as unfit. I’m infantilized. I need medication. I spent four months with someone deconstructing my motives just to get a referral to a doctor that might help me. The doctor then set out to do the same. It’s been over a year and I still lack a prescription. For surgical care, you have to wait two years, write out an essay for your motives, and go before a panel of doctors to defend yourself.

    I know my religion of birth thinks of me as unfit. The Catholic church has been a vocal opponent of every non-discrimination and anti-bullying legislation inclusive of trans people. They forbid discussions of gender identity in their official support groups in schools. Teachers have reported experiencing fear in supporting their students. The church has been at the forefront of efforts to oppose adoption and same-sex marriage rights abroad and still speaking against it at home. It has ramifications for trans people.

    I know my political representatives think of me as unfit. They say that I shouldn’t be allowed to use the washroom to pee. They say that I’m just a sexual predator that will go after little girls if I do. They nickname legislation “the bathroom bill.”

    I know my newspapers thinks of me as unfit. The National Post and Ottawa Sun run stories that dehumanize me. They too think I shouldn’t be accepted. They too echo these thoughts that I’m a sexual predator. This is why I’m afraid to go pee.

    I know film and television thinks of me as unfit. Those positive interviews I mentioned always elicit a flurry of excitement because they’re still so rare as to be cause for celebration. Rather, in most sitcoms and interviews, I’m told I’m not legitimate dating material. That anyone going out with me should be ridiculed. I’m just a he-she. A tranny. An Adam’s apple. Interviews rarely fare better, with hosts reducing guests to their genitals.

    I know pedestrians think of me as unfit. They shout things to let me know. Comments they would never say to anyone else.

    I know my work thinks of me as unfit. A coworker came up to me to talk about how their ex-boyfriend came out as trans. It wasn’t done in a context of support but rather how it was a freak thing. My words to help him be there for him were brushed off.

    I know that the people on the dating site think of me as unfit. One told me I should just go sleep on the train tracks. The moderators make dehumanizing remarks about trans members in private. Mostly I’m just ignored.

    I know my family thinks of me as unfit. I’m delusional. I know that I’ll be tolerated and loved but never accepted.

    So I enter any public space knowing that the people I will deal with will be shaped by this toxic environment. They’re told I’m a sexual predator. That I should never be considered date material, only something to fuck or jack off to on porn sites. That I’m an aberration not to be accepted as I am. This is why I’m afraid.

    Casual Violence

    The perception is that assaults and murders alone define the violence we face. That the tacit support these aggressors receive up until their final act is simply valid expression. Passed off as fair debate. Religious freedom. Or comedy. That this support is normal and that challenging it is what would be intolerable.

    The violence of this support system is not a hypothetical. It bleeds through every interaction and people die from it. Forty percent of trans people attempt suicide. We have the studies. We know that the reason so many die is because of the hostile environment.

    When it’s one hand that kills us, they call it murder. When it’s a dozen, they call it suicide.

    This is the violence.

    To make people live in fear is a form of violence.

    To make them die is a form of violence.

    To inhibit them from challenging it is a form of violence.

    Yet this violence is so well accepted that it’s just part of my everyday routine.

    Casual violence.

  • Vegan Soft Vanilla Butter Cookies

    Vegan Soft Vanilla Butter Cookies

    Vegan Soft Vanilla Butter Cookies (Original)

    • 1/2 Cup Vegan Butter (eg. Earth Balance)
    • 1/3 Cup Icing Sugar
    • 1 Tsp Vanilla
    • 1 1/3 Cup Flour
    • 1 Tsp Baking Powder
    • 2 Tbsp Almond/Soy/Rice Milk
    1. Preheat the oven to 325F.
    2. Beat butter and sugar until fluffy. Mix in vanilla.
    3. Add the rest of the ingredients and combine. Add milk if too dry.
    4. Make small balls of dough and gently pressing them down on the cookie sheet.
    5. Bake 18-20 minutes.

    Vegan Cream Cheese Frosting

    • 4 Tbsp Vegan Cream Cheese (eg. Tofutti)
    • 3 Tbsp Vegan Butter (eg. Earth Balance)
    • 2 Tsp Vanilla
    • 1/2 Cup Icing Sugar
    1. Mix the ingredients. If it’s too runny, add icing sugar. If it’s too rigid, add cream cheese/butter. I always play this one out by eye.
    2. I dipped the cookie into the mixture then topped off with sprinkles.

    vanilla cookies

    Thoughts

    I sought to replicate these incredibly soft cookies a coworker obtained. This ended up being quite close to the mark.

    I screwed it up and mixed all of the ingredients in one go. Working with it was like working with pastry dough and I added milk to help me through. Still, the end product was very soft and delicious. I wonder if not beating the sugar and butters first was actually a boon. The cookies themselves are without flavour – it’s the frosting that makes them what they are. As an aside – I made sure that the frosting wouldn’t harden by making sure there wasn’t too much icing sugar.

    This accidental find is now one of my favourite cookie recipes.

  • Programming Philosophy

    Programming Philosophy

    I’ve been programming professionally for five years now. Since I’m likely to be in the field for many years to come, what I intend on writing here is a reference to see where I was at in terms of my approach.

    Reduce Opportunities For Errors

    Everything I do is focused around reducing the opportunity for error.

    The first step is I pick a programming language that will require the least amount of code to achieve the task while satisfying other requirements around performance, longevity, and deployment. Sometimes that’s Python. Sometimes that’s C. The less code there is, the less opportunity there is the opportunity to introduce error.

    I remove any repetition as to make the contents of my functions only be what makes them unique. Every repeating instance is an opportunity to forget applying a change I did to some other part. I also code in such a way to make some bugs appear at compile time rather than run-time. For instance, I’ll store strings as defines in C/C++ as to remove one type of repetition and make typos pop up as compile errors.

    Employing practices like unit testing is another big way to reduce errors. It’ll catch some bugs that might otherwise fail to show up until a specific set of conditions occur in a running program, which can make it a pain to locate.

    Write The Idealized Code

    I structure code from the most abstract down. I specify what would be the function/method calls to make with the perfect library, one after the other, to solve a given problem. I then populate those functions after the fact, applying the same approach. Each invoked function/method is just a single-line return statement until properly populated. I refactor continuously.

    I find that the top-down versus bottom-up approach leads to code that’s better structured and more legible.

    Keep Code Legible

    If there’s a Venn Diagram for ideas, this is one that is impacted by a slew of other practices.

    I follow the conventions of the language. For C++, my functions follow the lowerCamelCase pattern. In Python and C it’s the underscore_name_pattern. If common practice dictates to use four space indentation, then that’s what I do. That consistency improves legibility for developers which reduces opportunity for error.

    Likewise I always avoid those clever one liners. If it’s meaning is not immediately clear, I get rid of it. I want to remove as many barriers to understanding my code as possible. Leave cycle-level optimizations to the compiler. The losses that matter are usually several levels of abstraction up.

    My lines of code never exceeds 80-120 characters, my functions rarely are more than a handful of lines, my files rarely exceed 200 lines. The more you have the more someone reading the code will have to track in their head, which makes the code less approachable. You want approachable. It also forces some level of modularization. The easier it is for someone else to pick up the code, the less likely they are to miss out the ways their changes could have unintended consequences.

    I never comment out parts of code permanently as a way to disable it for potential future use. That’s what code revision is for. It just clutters up the code.

    Only Code What’s Unique

    It’s really fun and cool to solve problems on my own. Figuring out how to write an email client from the TCP level. Learning how encryption works. I’m all for that.

    However, I avoid the Not Invented Here syndrome for production code. If there’s a library to do a given task, it’s probably better than what I could have put together on my own. I focus instead on writing the glue to interface with that library. I focus on the parts that make my software unique.

    Sometimes it’s necessary to re-invent the wheel, but I only do so when there’s a demonstrable need.

    Document The Code

    I also document the code following whatever standard is set by the automatic document generator for that language. For Python that’s docstrings. For C/C++ I use JavaDoc for compatibility with Doxygen.

    Comments are invaluable for maintainability. I hold the view that leaving it to the code is insufficient. Comments bridge the gap between how a computer thinks and how people think. The code explains how, the comments explain what.

    I also automate as much of the documentation process as possible. I consider commit messages a type of documentation and use generators like Doxygen. For outward-facing code, if it’s not documented – it doesn’t exist.

    Learn To Get Uncomfortable

    Software development is unlike many fields in that there isn’t a relatively stable body of knowledge to work towards. Rather, that body of knowledge changes drastically every few years less you work as a programmer for NASA.

    General skills around the process of software development are more static, but only just. Core knowledge around data structures has looked the same over the last thirty or forty years, but processes such as Agile and test-driven development are quite new.

    So it becomes necessary to keep learning new things and to avoid staying comfortable with a body of knowledge.

    I do this for two reasons. The first is that it really improves my workflow. All of these are born out of the lessons learned by other developers. Integrating those lessons saves me much time and effort, whether it be debuggers, revision control, unit testing, agile, etc. They were always prefaced with a learning curve that made me question their worth but it always proved invaluable.

    The second reason has to do with my reality in which I’m seen as disposable. Every one of my friends in the private sector, with few exceptions, have recently been laid off. Some multiple times. My own company has reinforced the notion that I’ll be dropped the second it’s convenient to do so. In this environment then I have to be my own agent so that if I’m laid off tomorrow, I’ll be employable. I seek to hold myself up to the standards of the top developers I know.

    Take Care Of Yourself First

    The most important lesson of all though has less to do with code.

    There’s only one person out there that can put your well-being first: you.

    Don’t miss out on spending time with those that matter in your life (including yourself) because you were working nights and weekends. Take those impromptu days off for self-care. Spend time with your chosen family. Don’t look at your work emails after 5pm.

    There are many companies and people within them that would rather you didn’t do this. Those people have different priorities. That’s okay. This is why you’re there.

    There’ll always be people who make more than you. Maybe most people. But if you make a livable wage, have full-time work on regular hours, have your health, and a network of people that love you – then you’re pretty much golden. Those other people will have nicer things. Let it go.

    At the end of the day, it’s the people that matter most.

    And your time with them is the one thing you can’t get back from working evenings and weekends with a company.

  • New Home & Life Update

    New Home & Life Update

    The last few months have proved quite busy.

    I went back to school for evening classes in January and then dropped out. I’ve continued working on the book (pictured below), for which I plan on printing a single copy and leaving it at that. I’m doing it because it’s therapeutic and drives a personal sense of accomplishment.

    Cover for the single-issue book.
    Cover for the single-issue book.

    I also moved last week. This is months shy of my lease being up on my old place so I’m paying dual-rent at the moment.

    The move has been an incredible boon to my mental health. My old place did not feel like a home.

    I had a pretty severe leak which lasted twenty days because the property management company wanted to save money and did not want to get a plumber. It took another twenty days to fix the ceiling that had collapsed due to their inaction. It took a week to “fix” the broken lock on my door (the wonders of plywood.) The pipes atop my head vibrated extremely loudly at night preventing me from sleeping. I’d often wake up at all hours. Turns out there was something loose in the boiler room which took three months to fix. My bathroom always smelled like cigarette smoke, the halls often reeked of pot. The property management company would cut power to the building one day, water another, and have reason to go into my unit each month. The halls had ripped out flooring and walls, the product of construction that had been abandoned before my initial move. Tenants discarded their own garbage inside the building. Then there was an email from my property manager asking me to take down a review in which explained the terrible initial state of the apartment. There was no acknowledgement of their responsibility. That was atop of the regular patronizing reminder emails they’d send out.

    That last week in the old place I was counting down the days to the move and seeing that as a shrinking window in which I could kill myself. I knew the place I was at sucked but I didn’t see changing places as an opening for getting better. I just saw it as a chance to separate myself from negligent property managers. Getting to sleep was still a nightmare with negative memories replaying endlessly.

    It was only after I moved that I realized how significant the old place had been to the degradation of my mental health. It had been far more than the annoyance I had thought it to be.

    IMG_20140410_074431

    Even though we’re four in the house, I fall asleep to soft laughter or silence. I wake up to the sun, a luxury I didn’t have in my basement apartment. I sleep so well. It’s really strongly impacted my mood for the better. Those negative thoughts that occupied the hours before falling asleep are no longer as present. I don’t know how long that will last, but I’ll take it.

    The residents here also are super affirming for me. I can wear my new Lululemon skirt and they won’t comment on it. Because it’s normal. I have not heard the wrong pronouns or my birth name uttered here once. One day I came home and they had supper for me. It’s just been lovely. I now spend 2.5 – 3 hours travelling each day to get to/from work, but it’s well worth having this home to go to.

    I’ve also started to self-medicate for hormone replacement therapy.

    I started pursuing legitimate channels last May. It took about four months to have a social worker discuss my history and vouch for a referral. Since then it’s just been wait. My first appointment was scheduled in November. The appointment was set for the first week of February. The clinic then pushed it back to the first week of March. The second appointment was supposed to be in the last week of March, then it got pushed to Mid-April, then to mid-May. The doctor wants to also go over my history beforehand, so we’re now looking at well-over a year before I’ll get on officially.

    It’s frustrating because I know of people that went from bringing it up with their GP to getting a prescription in under a month. I just did not win this lottery. I’ve had this option to self-medicate from the get-go. I tried waiting. But over that year I saw further irreversible masculinization take place and the capacity to cope with it erode.

    The only thing I gained from waiting further was the approval of cisgender friends at the expense of my own mental health. They saw self-medicating as more risky than waiting. The trans people in my life know the reality can be the reverse. Outward physical health does little good if there’s no mental health to go with it.

    I’ve felt a sense of relief being on them. I don’t expect much in terms of outward changes as I’m on anti-androgens. I’ve used a guide made available by the Center for Mental Addiction and Health, the arbiters of surgical care under OHIP, for suggested start dosage and risks. I’ve also turned to the Standards of Care issued by the World Professional Association for Transgender Health for further information. It helps that many among my friends network are or have been trans service providers.

    Other than that, life is good.

    I took a month-long reprieve in March from social media and socializing in general. That followed a particularly bad night mental health wise, and that did me much good.

    I’m still baking for fun, and now that I have room mates it’s not just me eating everything. I have these plans for the summer too. If I’m still at my current employment, I’m going to take a month off in August. I haven’t had a month off since I started to work when I was 15. I’ll use that time to finish my book and work on an open-source project. It’s very difficult to find energy to program for fun when that already consumes 11-12 hours of each day (I count travel time.) A month would do me great.

    Friendships are doing well. Many of my friends have also seen the last few months as being a period of great change, for the better. I’ve been keeping busy and doing things like going to watch plays. I saw Seeds last week, which is a documentary-play about the patent infringement case brought against a farmer who was found to have grown Monsanto seeds without authorization.

    new-imagegrainslicorne

    I’m excited for the impending summer.

  • Vegan Sunflower Butter Mousse

    Vegan Sunflower Butter Mousse

    Makes four 4.5” tarts.

    Oreo Cookie Crust (Original)

    • 24 Oreos
    • 1/4 Cup Melted Vegan Butter (eg. Earth Balance)
    1. Place parchment paper in the bottom of the tart pans.
    2. In a large bowl, turn the cookies into fine crumbs.
    3. Add melted butter and mix well.
    4. Line the tarts with the Oreo mix to make a crust.
    5. Place the tarts in the freezer.

    Sunflower Butter Filling (Original)

    • 300g Silken Tofu
    • 1 Cup Peanut/Sunflower/Almond/etc. Butter
    • 1/8 Tsp Xantham Gum (Optional)
    1. Combine the ingredients using a blender/food processor/etc.
    2. Pour into the crust and freeze for an hour.

    Chocolate Ganache

    • 5 Tbsp Vegan Milk (eg. Unsweetened Almond Milk)
    • 1 Cup Dairy-Free Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips
    • 3 Tbsp Maple Syrup
    1. In a small sauce pan, boil the milk.
    2. Remove from heat and add chocolate and maple syrup. Mix until fully melted.
    3. Pour the chocolate mixture on top of the tarts.
    4. Refrigerate the tarts until the chocolate ganache has set.

    IMG_20140413_134042

    IMG_20140413_160429

     

    Thoughts

    I improvised this recipe trying to replicate the peanut butter tarts they serve at Bridgehead. This did not at all turn out like those – everything was far softer to the point I called it a mousse instead of a tart. Still good, just different.

    The crust did not hold together. The cookie crumbs would need to be finer, or perhaps use a flour plus cocoa crust recipe.