Addison & Jace ::: en route

I’ve written on gender three other times. 

In Part One, I looked back over years of gender confusion and embraced a new identity: genderqueer. I rejected the gender binary and refused to think of myself as male or female. I was something else entirely.

In Part Two, I was overcome with a connection to my womanhood. Overtaken by my desire for babies, by my love for women, by the hateful, nationwide attack on women, by conversations with proud butch women who bravely blur gender lines with their short hair, male clothing, and masculine energy. I was drawn back into the binary, back into a female identity (albeit, one with a strong masculine expression).

In Part Three, I swam to the other side of the binary, exploring the masculine part of myself. The part that feels confident and secure the more masculine I look, the part that hates my breasts and has since childhood, the part of me that uses the men’s restroom because the women’s is too scary. And for the first time, I asked a question that has been in my head but that was far too frightening to ask out loud: am I transgender?

Throughout this process, only one thing has been constant: change. I am evolving. 

At every phase of this process, it’s been hard to construct my thoughts and feelings into words. And frustrating to admit that I am still unsettled and unsure. And terrifying to experience a journey that’s so exhausting and confusing.

I know it’s a necessary journey, a worthwhile journey. So I stay on it. And I keep walking, one foot in front of the other, living my experience and noting my feelings, one by one.

But this process of evolution takes its toll. For nearly a year, I have been overcome with stress and anxiety. I have shared my struggles only with a few, not wanting to burden my family and all my friends. But it has been difficult. As strong as I am, this journey has made me feel weak.

And so I have sought out help. Two weeks ago, I had my first therapy appointment. Well, not my first ever therapy appointment. But my first therapy appointment to talk about this journey. And it was amazing.

I know there are many, particularly people in my family, who don’t think much of therapy. They consider therapy something that crazy or messed up people get. But I myself love therapy. If I had wealth, I’d be in a therapist’s office every week, processing my feelings, talking through my stress, and dealing with life. Sadly, I don’t have wealth, and I hadn’t been to see a therapist since college.

My first time back in the chair was incredibly affirming, validating, and stabilizing. I threw out everything I’ve been experiencing — things I’ve written about here on this blog and other things I’ve hidden — and in the conversation, I experienced such clarity and understanding. I left feeling better than I had felt in months, maybe longer.

In one hour, I will be back in my therapist’s office for my second visit. Just before my first visit, I felt nervous. Today, I’m feeling energized and eager. I feel ready to share more of my story and to continue on my journey with another ally. I think we’re getting somewhere, and we’re moving much faster and with much less pain and confusion than when I was traveling alone. 

I’m not sure where we’ll end up, but I know one thing is true: it’s the journey that’s important. Onward!

-Jess

At the Capitol for the House Education Committee hearing. Live tweeting testimony around HB 1254, an anti-bullying bill.

Today, 150 Coloradans joined me in the Old Supreme Court Chambers at the Colorado State Capitol. We were all there for the same reason—to participate in the Senate Judiciary Committee hearing where SB-172, the Colorado Civil Union Act, was being heard.

SB-172 provides critical legal protections to committed gay and lesbian couples in Colorado. Protections like the ability to visit a partner in the hospital, to make medical and end-of-life decisions for a partner, and to inherit a partner’s property. Responsibilities like the right to adopt a partner’s child, to insure a partner, and to take family leave to care for a partner. Protections and responsibilities that straight married couples take for granted and that many of my family and friends assume that Addison and I already have. My friends are shocked when I tell them that if I were in an accident, my parents, not Addison, would be called to make medical decisions for me. In fact, there is no guarantee that Addison could even be by my bedside. Civil unions in Colorado would change that. 

Today was my first Colorado committee hearing, and it was a big one. Nine committee members — 6 women, 3 men (I believe Colorado has more women legislators than any other state, or close to it) — sat behind what used to be the Supreme Court bench. From left to right, Senator Scheffel, Senator King, Senator Nicholson, Senator Newell, Senator Carroll (the chairwoman), Senator Guzman, Senator Roberts, Senator Giron, and Senator Lundberg. They all sat before me looking powerful and poised. 

Testimony began with Senator Steadman, the bill’s sponsor, who introduced the bill. He was asked several questions from Senator Lundberg who made it clear from the get-go that he was against the bill because he believed civil unions to be an affront to marriage. Of course, Senator Steadman was well-spoken and brilliant. It’s an honor to have him (and three other openly LGBT legislators) representing not just the people of his district but the LGBT community in Colorado.

Bill supporters were allowed to testify first, and we took two full hours to make our case. We heard from organizations supporting the bill and everyday, real people. Committed couples whose lives would be impacted in a tremendous way if civil unions passes. Parents with gay children and grandchildren. Faith leaders who believe that family is best defined by love and commitment, not the gender of two loving people. I felt amazingly uplifted as person after person stood up and voiced their support. There were speakers who brought tears to my eyes and to the eyes of the poised, powerful committee members before me.

But my day at the Capitol wasn’t all good. As our political process allows, people opposed to the bill were allowed to speak as well. One by one, I heard my fellow Coloradans say horrible things about me. I heard them call my love for Addison unnatural. I heard them quote the Bible, using it as a weapon to deny me the opportunity to be at Addison’s bedside in the hospital, to make medical decisions for her, to be responsible for her. I listened as they called me immoral and wrong for loving someone as wonderful as Addison. I listened as they claimed that Addison and I shouldn’t be allowed to raise children.

It was heartbreaking. The room filled with hate — a sharp change from the beginning of the hearing, which was overwhelming with proclamations of love and commitment. 

I kept thinking that the people who were calling my committed, loving relationship unnatural, wrong, and unfit to raise children could be changed. I kept thinking that, if they just got to know Addison and me, they’d change their minds. If they saw how much we love and care for each other, if they knew our hopes, dreams, and plans for the future, they’d change. 

But I don’t think they would. 

And that’s what’s so devastating. That no matter what, these people will always be spewing their hate. 

Fortunately, my day didn’t end on this sad note. After opposition testimony, members of the committee spoke, and their words were uplifting, rejuvenating, and inspiring. Even though you know all the things that the opposition says aren’t true, they still hurt. They tear you apart. But Senators Newell, Nicholson, Guzman, Roberts, Giron, and Carroll put us all back together. I am so thankful for their commitment to ending discrimination and ushering in a more equal Colorado. 

An equal Colorado where Addison and I are treated with the same fairness and respect as all committed couples.

-Jess

It’s extremely difficult to hear people stand up in opposition to civil unions, claiming that families like mine are unnatural, wrong, and bad for children. I want to believe that if they knew Addison and me or any of the wonderful couples who stood up in support today, they would change their minds. But I’m not sure they would.

Today’s amazingly compelling civil unions testimonies are bringing tears to my eyes — as well as the eyes of many of the committee members. To see them so moved makes me appreciate their difficult work more than I ever have.

If you read this blog regularly (or even every once in a while), you probably know three important things about me:

1. I’m a lesbian.

2. I’m on the Board of SC Equality, South Carolina’s GLBT civil rights organization.

3. I want to see more rights and legal protections for GLBT citizens on the local, state, and federal level.

That’s me, and many of you know it. So you’re probably not surprised that yesterday, Addison and I took the afternoon off work and drove to Charleston to attend a city hall meeting. We drove back immediately after the meeting: 4 hours in the car; 2 hours or less in the meeting.

We went because we wanted to witness history being made. And we did.

We watched as the Charleston City Council voted unanimously to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation in matters of public accommodations and housing. I’ll explain what this all means in a minute, but pause for a second to take this in. A city in South Carolina has passed (at the local level) legislation protecting gays and lesbians.

Don’t drop dead. It’s happened. We made history.

Here’s what it all means:

-Charleston already had a law on the books that protected against discrimination in housing. The law protected people on the basis of gender, race, ethnicity, disability, etc. SC Equality and other political organizations in the state (AFFA,Log Cabin Republicans, Stonewall Democrats, ACLU) worked with the Mayor and City Council of Charleston to get sexual orientation and age added as protected classes. So now the law states that you can’t be discriminated against based on your sexual orientation! In short, as a result of this law,  you can’t be denied the ability to rent, buy, or sell property because you are gay.

-Charleston did not have a law regarding discrimination in public accommodations. So we worked to get one created that included sexual orientation. And now it’s on the books that you can’t be discriminated against in matters of public accommodations because of age, race, sexual orientation, etc. In short, as a result of this law, you can’t be discriminated against at public businesses like hotels, restaurants, bars, etc.

-The definition of “sexual orientation” in the law was written so that it doesn’t just protect against gays, lesbians, and bisexuals. It also protects transgender folks from being discriminated against as a result of their gender identity or expression.

I know this doesn’t seem like much, but it is. This is a pro-gay legislative victory happening in the South. That’s a huge deal! And it shows that we don’t have to wait on Washington to make change happen. We can do positive work for GLBT folks right here in South Carolina. It’s tough work, but it can be done. Laws like these exist now in Columbia and Charleston. What SC city will be next?

On a side bar, you might be wondering about employment (maybe? perhaps you care?). I know I was wondering about employment laws when I first found out that we were trying to get these laws passed. These laws do NOT protect against GLBT folks in matters of employment. If you are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender in South Carolina, you can still be fired because of your sexual orientation — no questions asked. It may feel like discrimination, but it isn’t illegal. You can’t sue because there’s no law protecting you. You can just get fired because you’re gay. To me, that’s one of the scariest parts of living in South Carolina.

Unfortunately, we can’t change the employment issue at the local level. We can only change employment laws at the state level. This is infinitely harder to do because SC is a really conservative state. There are cities with lots of progressive folks living there (Columbia and Charleston mostly, where we’ve already passed pro-gay laws like housing and public accommodations), but the state overall is way conservative. So changing employment laws across the state…that’s something to look forward to but not hold your breath for because, well, it may be a while.

But today, my friends, we have reason to celebrate. Legislative victory for GLBTs living in South Carolina. That’s worth a lot to me, legally and emotionally.

Pass the beer.

-Jess

I woke up this morning at the same usual ungodly hour that Addison’s alarm always goes off (6 AM), but instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I grabbed my phone and began searching for the results of yesterday’s election.

The first thing I saw was good news:  Kalamazoo, Michigan approved a measure that prohibits discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity in matters of housing, employment, and public accommodations.  This is exciting stuff, folks, and I’m thrilled for the people of Kalamazoo.  They can now feel safe and protected, especially in their jobs.  Prior to the passing of this measure, Kalamazoo citizens could have been fired or denied housing simply because they were gay, and nothing could have been done.  They couldn’t have sued their employer or anything because there was no law prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.  Now the people of Kalamazoo can feel secure in their jobs, in their homes, and in their public accommodations.  Click here to learn more about this measure.

Next, I read that we’re leading in Washington state.  A referendum to expand the state’s domestic partnership law to basically be “everything-but-marriage” is leading.  Basically, the law will change Washington’s definition of spouse–everywhere that it appears–to include registered domestic partners.  It would be the first-ever win for a pro-gay initiative on a state ballot, but it’s too soon to know for sure whether it will pass.  Most of the state votes via mail ballots, which only had to be postmarked (not received) by yesterday–so we can’t call it yet.  But my fingers are crossed.  If Washington succeeds, it will mean a lot.  It won’t mean marriage, but it will mean a lot.  Here’s a blog post from a lesbian couple whose blog I follow; they live in Washington and talk a bit about the importance of this referendum. I love when she says:  “Mark my words, National Organization for Marriage, Faith and Freedom Network, Yes on 1, the Vatican, and the Latter Day Saints: when we win in Washington, it will be the first victory of many.” I really hope they’re right.

Finally, after reading two bits of good news (and some other pieces of really positive news about LGBT candidates winning mayoral races and beyond–yay!), I found the information I was looking for, the information I woke up for.  I got the bad news about Maine.  I learned that the people of Maine overturned the legislature and governor-approved law that provided marriage equality to GLBT Mainers.  And immediately, I began to feel horrible emotional pain.  Once again, people in this country have said, “We don’t believe you deserve equal rights because you’re different.  We don’t believe you should be allowed to love who you love.”  It hurts tremendously to be confronted with this harsh reality again and again.  Just when you think you’ve made progress, a state steps up and says, “We don’t want GLBT folks in these parts.”  Ouch.

Yes, yes, I know the fight will continue.  I know that this campaign was extremely well-run and that we almost won.  I know that organizations in Maine and across this country will continue working for GLBT rights, from marriage equality to employment nondiscrimination.  I know we can be glad for every mind that we’ve changed and all those we will change in the coming days, months, and years.  I know all these things, and I will continue to be a member of the fighting team.  I will continue to work for GLBT equality.

But, first, I need to wallow in my feelings.

Disappointment.  Sadness.  Anger.  Frustration.  Concern.  Rejection.

That’s what I’m feeling right now.  The pain of Maine.  The pain of realizing, once again, that although legislators and judges and governors will sometimes, in some cases, embrace us and provide us the opportunity to have our relationships recognized like all others, our neighbors will not.  That’s the pain of Maine.  Do you feel it?

-Jess

Holy shit! Obama just signed the Matthew Shepard Hate Crimes Bill—“a law that makes it a federal crime to assault an individual because of his or her sexual orientation or gender identity” (CNN).

This is the first major piece of gay rights legislation passed at the federal level.

Wow. We did it. We just made this nation a little bit safer for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender Americans.

What a day.

-Jess