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By Rebecca, February 20, 2011 8:10 pm

Something like this...

Yesterday was rather epic, and rather exhausting. I was at Noyes (the arts center where I work) beginning at 10AM, and didn’t leave until 11:30PM. From ten thirty to noon I co-taught a class of seventh and eighth graders, which actually went pretty well. It’s a great group, and I enjoy working with them and my co-teacher. Except, while demonstrating physicality, I over-demonstrated and really banged my knee. It hurt for the rest of the day, and sort of set the tone…

I had a brief break from noon to one thirty, where I got lunch and relaxed for a bit. It was lovely, and short-lived.

At one thirty I went into technical rehearsals for my high school class (focusing lights, checking sounds, etc). I really like this group of kids, it was just seven hours of tech, and of managing antsy high schoolers. And, midway through, one of the members of my cast had to leave for a “personal emergency.” I don’t like doubting my students, but she’d already spoken with me, two other teachers, and the theatre office about leaving early to go to a dance. Not even a dance, photos for the dance. So when her dad showed up for a really poorly defined “emergency,” I”m sorry. I didn’t believe him. (She was near tears, and I actually believe she didn’t know what was going on, which is even more fucked up.)

She’s back today, so it wasn’t a huge deal, but it really pisses me off. I assume my students and their parents are honest with me, and I really dislike doubting that honesty.

Continue reading 'Such a long day'»

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By Rebecca, September 30, 2008 7:56 pm

I hesitate to write this post when things are actually going pretty well, but feel like I need to if I want to work through some of it…

When I started transitioning I knew it would be hard work. Hard physical work, like the excruciatingly painful and horribly expensive hair removal, and hard emotional work, like changing how I interact with friends and loved ones.

What I didn’t really think about were all the little ways in which it would wear me down.

Things like having people I barely know feel that they then get to make assumptions and judgments about me (not even necessarily negative ones!)  because they know I’m trans. Like Jack, whose brother and brother’s wife were both trans, so even though I just met him he felt completely comfortable asking me how long I’ve been on hormones. And, damn me for not thinking ahead, I told him instead of giving a noncommittal answer to indicate it was none of his business. An answer like “trans people go on hormones for the rest of their life” or “none of your bloody business, person-I-just-met.”

Continue reading 'Sometimes it’s exhausting'»