To whom it may concern,

In the Fall of 2010, I was hired by the Piven Theatre Workshop in Evanston to teach an 8-week session of after school theatre classes to the students at Neal Math and Science Academy. After having taught the first class, on Tuesday, September 28, I was asked not to return. One or more of your school administrators felt my presence would bring up “uncomfortable conversations,” specifically due to my status as a transgender woman. As a result of your actions, I lost income from the workshops, and your students lost the opportunity to learn the world-class theatre techniques of the Piven Theatre Workshop.  But beyond that, you damaged my sense of safety, and the integrity of your school community.

Bald-faced bigotry is something no one should face, but that was what happened here. You asked me not to return not because I had done a poor job teaching, not because the students hadn’t enjoyed the workshop, not because of space or budget issues, but because of who I am. You don’t know me. You’ve never met me. And yet you felt comfortable firing me for reasons that were irrelevant to my skills as an educator. I hope you never have to experience the self-doubt, the feelings of worthlessness, that you inflicted on me.

More importantly, your actions damaged the integrity of your school community. My understanding is that, within the last twelve months, a student at Neal Math and Science Academy committed suicide following teasing relating to gender identity or expression. Bullying targeted at the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community is a very real issue, as the rash of student suicides around the country this past year has shown. But by sweeping the issue under the rug, by avoiding potential “uncomfortable questions,” you ensure that no student is safe. Four out of every five students who are teased for reasons relating to sexuality or gender expression are not gay. (I need to find this citation.) By ignoring issue sof gender and sexuality, you leave your entire student population at risk.

I have no doubt your actions stemmed from a desire to protect your student population. But bringing up difficult issues – like how to deal with a transgender student or teacher – is infinitely preferable to pretending those issues don’t exist. Had you asked, I would have assured you that my status as a transgender woman would have no place in my Piven classroom, because it’s irrelevant to teaching youth acting skills. You, not I, have made this an issue.

My motivation for sending you this letter stems from two desires: First, for you to understand the harm your actions caused, both to myself and your larger school community. Second, to offer the opportunity to move forward and strengthen that same community. The Illinois Safe School Alliance offers training to create safe spaces for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender students, and I myself offer ‘Trans 101′ workshops to cover the basics of transgender-related issues and terminology.

Instead of using my presence as a teaching opportunity, you furthered the very problems you were no doubt trying to avoid.

I hope to hear from you, so that this matter may be resolved in an adult and professional fashion, instead of simply sticking your head in the sand and pretending such issues are not worthy of your time.

-Rebecca

So what happened?

I teach with the Piven Theatre Workshop, an absolutely fabulous organization founded thirty-plus years ago by the parents of Jeremy Piven (of Entourage fame). I’ve taken classes there since I was about ten years old, and have been teaching with them – first as an assistant and now as a lead teacher – for almost eight years. Piven does most of its teaching at its facility in Evanston, but is sometimes hired by outside organizations to do on-site workshops, usually at schools.

This is where the Neal Math and Science Academy comes in. They had a longstanding contract with the Boys and Girls Club of Lake County, where the BGCLC provided after school services. The BGCLC decided to hire Piven to provide an after school theatre program. Piven, in turn, hired me to teach the actual workshop. So I was hired by Piven, who was hired by BGCLC, who was hired by Neal.

Confused yet?

Neal is in North Chicago, a city closer to the Wisconsin border than it is to the actual City of Chicago. So, on Tuesday, September 28, I set out north from Actual Chicago to find North Chicago. It wasn’t a difficult ride – pretty much straight north – but it was a very different culture, way up North. North Chicago is closely tied with a US Naval training center, meaning a lot of the students are only there for a few years, before their parents move on to a different assignment. Much of the rest of the community is pretty low-income, something I wasn’t expecting from Lake County. I arrived at Neal around 2:45 for a 3:00PM pre-class meeting with the BGCLC on-site supervisor, and was given a brief tour of the school.

Neal seemed like a perfectly nice school, trying to make due with budget issues, an always-shifting student population, and the usual difficulties any middle school faces.

The students I worked with were – like most of Neal – kids of color, and (unlike my primarily white, largely Jewish population at Piven) were not excellent listeners. But we had a good class, the kids seemed to have fun, and I felt like it would be a productive – if tiring – ten week workshop. I was slightly nervous about having to provide BGCLC information for a background check (since my old name would show up) but dismissed my fears as unrealistic. Likewise, one student during the class said something was “So gay!” but I said “that type of language” wasn’t allowed, and the issue was dropped. I did have a cold at the time, so my voice was deeper than usual, but no one mentioned that. Why would they?

It wasn’t until the next Tuesday, October 5, that I realized anything was wrong. I received a phone call from Piven at about noon (for a 3:30PM workshop) saying the class had been canceled, but Piven wasn’t sure if it was a one-time cancellation, a cancellation of the entire class, or why the class was being canceled.

I, of course, assumed the worst, but tried to convince myself it couldn’t possibly have to do with my trans status. This is the 21st Century! Discrimination against trans people is illegal in Illinois! How would they even know I was trans?!

At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. Over and over again, for 48 hours.

It wasn’t until that Thursday, October 7, that I was finally able to track down Piven’s Artistic Director and get some answers. The office administrator said she wasn’t comfortable talking to me about what was happening, but seemed honestly upset and apologetic that she’d been told to keep her mouth shut. And 48 hours isn’t a very long time for a slow-moving board (who I told had been brought into “the discussion”) to make a decision. At the same time, 48 hours felt like an eternity. But finally, about 4:00PM I sat down with the AD and asked what had happened.

“Well,” she said, “It sounds like the principal at Neal felt your presence would bring up…” She paused, clearly not enjoying this conversation any more than I was. “…would bring up ‘difficult questions.’”

I still had a glimmer of hope. “You mean ‘difficult questions’ like ‘theatre opens up people’s hearts and exposes their deepest fears” kind of questions?”

“No. Not those kind of questions.”

I didn’t want to hear her say it, and at the same time needed it said. “It’s because I’m…

“…yeah.” She was clearly near tears, which actually made me feel a little better. Piven’s AD has known me for almost as long as I’ve been at the workshop, was incredibly supportive when I transitioned, and damn well should feel shitty about all this!

“Oh,” was all I could say.

She continued, pushing down tears, “You are one of our strongest teachers, and this has nothing to do with you, or with your teaching. This is because some people are ignorant, are stupid, are close-minded. This has nothing to do with you.”

And yet, of course it did. It does. It’s absolutely about me, even though it’s really not.

The AD wasn’t totally clear on the chain of events – the Executive Director was still trying to figure that out – but here’s what I later learned had happened:

1. At least one of the students in the class asked the staff something about me – I’ve never been able to find out what, exacrtly – supposedly something about my “big hands” and “deep voice.”
2. The staff person told the principal
3. The principal decided my presence would be “disruptive” and bring up “difficult questions”
4. The school told BGCLC they’d like a different instructor
5. BGCLC told Piven the school would like a different instructor
6. Piven (eventually) told me all this, while figuring out what the hell their response was supposed to be

I want to give Piven a lot of credit: the only thing I can fault them for is being slower to bring me into the conversation than I would have liked. But, within a week of the original phone call from BGCLC, Piven had talked to me and – with my agreement – responded by saying “We sent a perfectly good teacher. One of our best teachers, in fact. If she wasn’t acceptable, I guess we can’t do this workshop.” Piven also paid me for the one class I actually taught, as well as the three following classes that passed before the workshop was finally, officially, canceled. (Yes, in a perfect world they would have paid me for the entire run, and I told them that. But I understand they couldn’t afford to do that, and am honestly pleased with Piven’s decision on how much to pay me. It was a compromise, yes, but it was a shitty situation to begin with.)

We later found out that part of the reason the principal thought my presence might bring up “difficult questions” was because, within the last year, a student at Neal had committed suicide due to “gender and gender expression related teasing.”

That’s the part of the story that tipped me from hurt and humiliated to really angry. I’m going to repeat that: the principal decided having a potentially trans teacher might bring up “difficult questions,” due in part to a student committing suicide over gender and gender expression related teasing.

What.

The.

Fuck.

That offends me not only as a trans person, but as an educator. The possible idea that an appropriate response to a difficult, potentially painful discussion is “lalala, not happening!” is utter bullshit, particularly in an educational setting. It’s the equivalent  of saying “We don’t need LGBT education at our school, we don’t need a GSA, because we don’t have any gay students.”

Except it’s that much worse because clearly Neal had students who were being impacted by LGBT-targeted teasing, whether or not that student was actually LGBT.

So what am I doing about it, and why the hell has it taken me so long to write about it?

The latter is in part because of the former: I found a lawyer, and am figuring out my legal options. She initially suggested I not post about it, but has changed her attitude because I”m not planning to sue. Rather, what she’s trying to arrange is a sit-down meeting between me and the principal so I can explain A) exactly how painful it was to me, someone he never met, to be fired for being trans, and B) exactly how negative an impact it has on his school environment, and ultimately on the safety of his students. I’m hoping to the school into hiring me as an educator to do some of the training they so clearly need.

I’m also writing about it. Finally. It’s been hard to write this, because it’s still hard to think about. It was the first time I can say I was the specific target of transphobic discrimination, rather than a general “Oh, this legislation is against me” or “Oh, this politician is against me.” It was also painful because I was working with Piven, a place I really consider a safe space. But now I’m trying to harbor his anger and pain into art, too. My next show will be titled No Gender Left Behind, and will feature this story as well as lots of other thoughts on gender, education, and what we teach both kids and adults about gender in America.

I also want to give kudos to BGCLC. They said, as sort of the middleman in all this, “Um, we don’t see what the big deal is…” And so Piven will be doing an after school workshop just with them, at their space, with me as the teacher. Starting next week. So that’ll hopefully gt some of the same (adorable) kids and allow me to even further say “See? The world isn’t collapsing around your ears!” to Neal if and when I’m able to meet with them.

Phew. I’ve really been avoiding writing this, but it does feel good to get it off my chest. I’m hoping to write lots more about it, but feel free to ask questions or – part of the reason I wrote this – share in my emotional space of “That fucking sucks!”

Ta ta for now.

(For those of you who aren’t theatre people, tech refers to technical rehearsals, where lights/sound/etc are set. It comes before dress rehearsals and/or previews, the final rehearsals before a show opens.)

The show is going fine, although I’m planning to head out of work early tonight and finish up some sound and video work. And yet, I’m really scared about it opening on Friday. Not simply stressing out, but scared. And, after thinking about what parts of the show terrify me, I realized I’m not just dealing with stage fright (although there’s some of that) but with some deeper internalized transphobia.

It keeps stemming back to this issue, of recalling how I felt about gender and my own identity growing up and in comparison to now. I can’t get over hatred of my younger-self for not doing anything about being trans, and a hatred toward my body for being trans in the first place. I don’t want to be trans – I want to be done with it; with the show, with transitioning, with being trans in the first place.

And so going on stage and celebrating my trans identity is rubbing me a little raw.

Which isn’t to say the entire piece is celebratory. I’ve tried to acknowledge that I’m on a difficult journey. But I feel obligated to end more positive than negative, if for no other reason than saying how I actually feel seems so vulnerable, in a show where I’m obviously already putting a lot of myself out there.

I was thinking, yesterday, about a line in the show, spoken by my fifteen year old self: “Puberty is already shaping my body in ways that I hate. Bringing me closer to manhood. Taking me further away from being a woman.” For whatever reason, it made me remember my dad teaching me how to shave.

We were living in our second house, the house I still identify most as “home” in my memories. We were in my parents’ bathroom, and I had a nice layer of fuzz on my face and neck. He showed me how to apply shaving cream, to make sure the water wasn’t too cold or too hot when rinsing the razor, how to shave without cutting yourself.

I felt totally humiliated by the whole experience. I couldn’t voice it at the time, but it was like someone rubbing my face in my masculinity, in how my body was going one direction when I so desperately wanted it to go in the other.

I realized, though, that I have something of the same sensation with ‘feminine’ experiences – getting makeup or buying clothing for the first time. I do get over it, something which never really happened for shaving, but the very first time I’m doing these things I can’t help but feeling like I should know what I’m doing and would, if only my life had turned out right.

Getting back to the subject of this post (internalized transphobia, for those of you still with us) I’m struggling a lot with being OK – let alone happy – with who I am. It is so damn easy to see the things I don’t like about my body, and source them back to being trans. (Not helped because my stupid girl friends are too attractive! I need uglier friends!) (Not true, friends who are reading this. I love you!)

I’m really looking forward to have some me-time after the show, because I think the big thing that will help with all this is time. Time to get to know myself better, time to be myself, time to reflect and let all the big changes of the past year or so sink in.

And hopefully I’ll make it through the weekend…

I mentioned last year that I felt really disconnected from the TDOR, and I’m not sure my feelings have changed.

QueenEmily at Questioning Transphobia wrote a post, the drowned and the saved, today in which she said

There was an Italian atheist Jewish writer called Primo Levi who wrote about his experience of Auschwitz, over and over.  In his last book The Drowned and the Saved, he drew up a distinction between “the drowned” (those who died) and “the saved” (those who lived).  He argued that only the drowned could give true and full witness to the horror of the Shoah.

I’m not comparing the murders of trans people to the Shoah directly – the murder of trans people, which horrific, is not institutionally organised towards genocide in quite the same way.  But what I want to point out is the structure of witnessing.  Even Levi, a man who lived through the camp, at the end of his life felt inadequate to witnessing, unable to have fully experienced the violence he wrote about.  Even his proximity was not enough.

She goes on to say that, even with her own experiences of transphobic hatred, it is impossible to properly give witness to those murdered, particularly across cultural or racial lines (most of those murdered this past year where latino or black, and in Central or South America). But that we should try, anyway, because it is our duty and responsibility to the dead.

I agree, but feel even more like I shouldn’t be the one (or one of the ones) charged with this task of remembrance. I haven’t experienced transphobic behavior directed at me, and don’t have close friends who are trans to share in their experiences. I’m worried that my disconnect, my privilege, makes me unable to and unworthy of finding a personal meaning in the TDOR. (See my comment to Bond about antisemitism, where I put my foot in my mouth due to a similar, privileged, disconnect.)

To use a term often linked with how true to their “roots” Jewish people are perceived to be, it makes me feel very assimilated. Something which, on the one hand, I’m obviously happy about – I don’t want to be harassed. Beaten. Raped. Killed. At the same time, such harassment is linked – at least, in my mind – with the “trans experience.”

More broadly, it speaks to my socioeconomic privilege when compared to much of the trans population. Due to my family’s support, my liberal work environment, my kickass friends, I’ve never worried about not being able to pay rent or find a good job due to my status as trans.

Linking back with what Bond and I discussed, concerning antisemitism, I find myself in a similar position of having this horrible thing – transphobia or antisemitism – be removed from my life to the point of being unable to find common ground with my of the respective populations, trans or Jewish. I completely agree with queenemily and others that the TDOR is important and worthwhile, because transphobia and trans-targeted violence are both important issues; I’m not going to escape harassment or violence if someone perceives me as trans, even for all my privilege elsewhere.

But more importantly, the trans community has a responsibility to not sit idly by, but to call  attention to the violence directed at trans men and women. And trans men and women like myself, who feel disconnected from all this transphobia and violence, have a particular responsibility to help remember the dead, because we’re privileged out of luck and chance, not some innate better-ness about us. Even if we can’t do justice to the dead, we owe it to them to keep them from being forgotten.

I called him out on it, and now he’s calling me sanctimonious.

Here’s part of my comment to the original video post:

So. I don’t know why you posted this video but, without any further commentary on your part, I can only assume you’re saying it’s funny.

It’s not.

It’s transphobic, it’s hurtful, and it’s in poor taste. But it’s not funny.

I continued in this vein, ending with the admittedly-accusatory line, “Your words have an effect on people. Chose them more carefully.”

He posted an open reply, saying in part:

So; I did not name the Ace Ventura post “Transgender People Are Super Creepy And Should Exclusively Merit Reactions of Disgust and Revulsion in Society.” I named it “Spoiler Alert.” As in, Spoiler Alert! the twist in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective was that Sean Young was actually a man. The title framed the video in terms of the structure of the work, not the role that transgender individuals play. And while yes, we can never truly divorce a discussion of content from the rippling ramifications it imparts upon our culture and our society, the post was posted because it was a common reference point in the nostalgia train of our minds.

…

As far as the content being wholeheartedly transphobic, we must first assume that the titular Ace Ventura is a character we are meant to emulate. His role as protagonist does not assure our emulation; it is in the value we place on his actions that cements his insertion into our worldview. And if you’re ready to start carrying out real live conversations with your anus, donuts to dollars are you’re not going to have the healthiest worldview of transgenders to begin with.

…

I also want to add that I’ve never responded kindly to sanctimony. It’s an act that presumes intent and cuts off conversation; better in my mind to ask “Why” than to say “No.” But then again, I’m an agnostic.

To which I replied (again, in part):

…while I’m glad that the motivations of the post weren’t transphobic, but rather “because it was a common reference point in the nostalgia train of our minds,” that doesn’t negate the transphobic content of the clip. But then, you question even that.

…

You can say I’m sanctimonious (although I don’t agree, other than perhaps the very last line of my comment, as I don’t think my feelings of frustration and hurt are feigned or hypocritical) but I hold that you’re naive if you think, simply because Ace Ventura is an idiot, the transphobic humor expressed in the film won’t resonate with the audience and encourage its repetition. Likewise, it’s not just Ventura who responds negatively to the revelation about Sean Young in a transphobic fashion. As I said in the previous comment: “It’s transphobic because every single character (even the friggin’ dolphin) says, through their actions and their speech, that being trans – that a woman with a penis – is so violently disgusting that shaming her is acceptable and, ineed, expected.” I’d have less of a problem – although certainly not no problem – if someone, anyone, had stepped up in the movie and said, “So what? Why is our manhood so weak that the discovery of a penis shakes us to our very core?” But that never happens in the film, and certainly doesn’t happen in this clip.

And simply because someone doesn’t have the healthiest worldview about transgender people going into the movie doesn’t excuse the movie’s transphobic content.

I’m waiting to hear back from him, so we’ll see how (or if) this conversation continues…

I really hate the body snatch episode. Really really really. I hate it when it’s used for humor, I hate it when it’s used for drama, I hate it when it’s used to teach the good guy a lesson, I hate it when it’s used to teach the bad guy a lesson. I just hate it. And I think I’m starting to realize why. It’s a mishmosh of reasons, but I’ll try to make them coherent…

I feel like I’m in a permenant body swap, and I’m terrified I won’t be able to swap back. That I’m the character being taught the lesson about ‘appreciating what you have,’ or ‘having sympathy for others,’ or whatever lesson the body swap plot device is being used for this episode. But that the lesson never ends, and I never get to go back to normal. That somewhere, there’s someone walking around with my body, using it and doing things to it and I’m stuck in this horrible body that fits all wrong and doesn’t work like it’s supposed to,  that I never asked for and don’t want. I’m terrified that the body I have will forever be “my” body, that I’m stuck with it.

And, as is so often the case with the transition, I’m scared everyone will know my fear and realize that I have no idea what I’m doing, and point at me and laugh.

This has gone somewhere different than I intended, as I didn’t initially have a goal with this post beyond “brainstorm about why I don’t like the ‘body swap episode’,” but I’m realizing so much bigger than that. I so rarely go into any amount of self pitty, or self-loathing, but it’s all there.

And I am at the end of my rope and I don’t know that I can handle this…  want to be done with the body swap episode; to be done being trans. I want to go back to my body, that’s nice-shaped and pretty, that doesn’t require taking  pill after pill every day for the rest of time along with thousands of dollars of hair removal, that learned how to put on makeup and pick out an outfit… I want to be done. I want to swap back and have the little lesson about this bullshit or that, and have the episode be over.

And I can’t. I don’t get to.  As Cedar pointed me to hir post, Risk, Danger, and Internalized Transphobia, I actually have to embrace all the bullshit and danger and institutional hatred to be who I want to be. I just finished reading the post (and, as ze said, it made me cry) (more than I already was from stupid Angel) and I can’t decide if I feel better or worse. If I want to go out and fight the world, or crawl into a hole and die.

But I’m still breathing. I hope.

-R

The simple guide includes such adversarial approaches as

• If You Won’t Educate Me How Can I Learn?
• If You Cared About These Matters You’d Be Willing To Educate Me
• You’re Being Hostile
• You’re Being Overemotional
• And more!

The “book”s intro after the break.

You know how it is.  You’re enjoying yourself, kicking back and relaxing at the pub or maybe at the library; or maybe you’re in class or just casually surfing the internet, indulging in a little conversation. The topic of the conversation is about a pertinent contemporary issue, probably something to do with a group of people who fall outside your realm of experience and identity. They’re also probably fairly heavily discriminated against – or so they claim.
The thing is, you’re having a good time, sharing your knowledge about these people and their issues. This knowledge is incontrovertible – it’s been backed up in media representation, books, research and lots and lots of historical events, also your own unassailable sense of being right.

Yet all of a sudden something happens to put a dampener on your sharing of your enviable intellect and incomparable capacity to fully perceive and understand All Things. It’s someone who belongs to the group of people you’re discussing and they’re Not Very Happy with you. Apparently, they claim, you’ve got it all wrong and they’re offended about that.  They might be a person of colour, or a queer person. Maybe they’re a woman, or a person with disability. They could even be a trans person or a sex worker. The point is they’re trying to tell you they know better than you about their issues and you know that’s just plain wrong. How could you be wrong?

Don’t worry though! There IS something you can do to nip this potentially awkward and embarrassing situation in the bud. By simply derailing the conversation, dismissing their opinion as false and ridiculing their experience you can be sure that they continue to be marginalised and unheard and you can continue to look like the expert you know you really are, deep down inside!

CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE PRIVILEGE!

I’m getting more and more upset by the transphobia. That is, by jokes told at the expense of transgender women. Two big examples spring to mind:

• When discussing how relationships work until the ‘oh’ moment, one of the examples is Robin saying “I used to be a dude.”
• When trying to figure out why his girlfriend, Cathy, should be dumped, the third scenario has her saying “I used to have a penis.”

But I know there are more out there. In both examples, a potentially attractive female partner is rendered unattractive by being trans. I realize the show makes fun of a lot of different minority groups, but there seems to be a difference between having a positive gay character on the show and laughing with him, than simply making fun of how no one in their right mind would want to have a relationship with a trans woman.

As a trans woman, it really sucks to hear characters I thought I liked casually dropping things that would be incredibly hurtful if directed at me as a joke. I can’t imagine my little blog is going to have a huge effect on the show’s viewing audience (though I am also posting this to the show’s forum) but the very least I can do is speak up in the face of what is, in all likelihood, ignorance.

-R