I haven’t truly felt my physical safety threatened since maybe fourth or fifth grade. It was in the gym class locker room, although I honestly don’t remember if it was before or after class. A few of my classmates had taken a liking to picking on me, and the locker room was (in a way that’s almost cliche) a space isolated from any teachers and perfect for making trouble.

In my memory, the locker room is huge; cavernous and echoing. I have no doubt if I revisited it today, my growth would have shrunken it down in an almost comical way. And, although I don’t remember any specific incident, I remember the faces of my aggressors, and the knowledge that if I didn’t say the right thing they would beat me up.

They never did beat me up. And, looking back, I don’t know that I was ever actually in danger; whether the training of our white, middle-class upbringing would have overrode their dislike of me. But I remember feeling that fear.

As I said, I haven’t truly felt my physical safety threatened in maybe fifteen years.

But I sure have been thinking an awful lot about violence lately.

I haven’t been able to find good studies about trans violence. I’m assuming this is because the trans community is often lumped into the GLB violence statistics, and because the trans community isn’t large enough to have warranted tons of study on its own. That said, general stats on GLBT youth show that almost all queer youth experience verbal and/or physical harassment. Likewise, the Transgender Day of Rememberance is dedicated to celebrating trans men and women (mostly women…) who were killed because of their identity and expression.

More to the point, “common knowledge” among the trans community says that verbal harassment should be expected, and physical violence is almost a right of passage.

So even though I haven’t experienced any violent attacks or threats, even though (almost) every single person I’ve come out to has been fine with the transition, and even though every person I interact with on a day-to-day basis has been nothing but accepting and supportive, I fear violence. I am surrounded every day by a culture that makes trans women out to be a joke; something to be pitied (at best) or hated (at worse). I was raised to believe who and what I am is an object of ridicule.

Is it any wonder, then, that I have trained myself to expect violence? That, without any first-hand experience of violence or verbal harrassment against myself, I am looking for it around every corner?

I almost wish the violence would just come, show itself, so that I could survive it and move on.

Almost.

-R