National
Coming
Out Day
a thing i did
so long long
long ago, and
still do to this
day
because, to be
in a heteronormative
cis-hierarchical society
means, if you don’t
conform fully, you
must explain yourself
constantly
constantly
constantly
had big enough feels
to feel the need
to express it
sans poetry
via prose
and who knows
how that ended up
but i might re-read
and edit
and submit it
at a later date
so folks who might not know
start to understand
how emotional labor
takes its
toll
a word
to those
who misgender:
if we stop correcting you
it does not mean
it’s all right
in fact
the opposite
is true;
it hits us
hard
each time
to the point
where
we simply
shut down.
the energy to stand up for oneself
drains more and more
each instance
contemplating
calling out
misgendering
of myself
of my fellow enbies
it can be easier
to correct
an obvious gendered flub–
a she for a he
and a he for a she–
the identity and clues and presentation
are often there;
it should be
obvious.
but with those of us
in-between/
outside-of/
on a whole other
gender-level
clothing/
body hair/
size/
shape/
color/
means little to nothing:
we are sans gender
(or all genders together)
and all we are asking
is that you see us as a person
first
before gender.
and it doesn’t matter how
queer-friendly
or queer
a person is…
i’ve seen binary trans folks
throw ‘she’s around
in place of ‘they’s
‘he’s
for ‘xe’s
and it hurts
like a knife
to the soul
and i know social conditioning
is a struggle to escape,
and i know language barriers
can make it impossibly hard,
but if, in a queer space,
as you set yourself up
as a queer teacher
and imply the safety
for all
but still buy into a binary
[even if it’s solely through language]
you are proving
yourself
wrong.
***the emotion of this poem
is over a year old,
the initial person who prompted
this poem
has done a great job
of reeling in their language
and looking at the person
first.
but i wanted to write
and re-write
for catharsis purposes,
and i wanted to post
not only for a call-in/call-out,
in case you are a person
who sees gender
first,
but also to say
that everyone makes mistakes
even queer folks in queer spaces
and it can always be forgiven,
but know that we always notice
even if we say nothing
we always
always
notice***
Trans Day of Visibility.
i try to be so visible…
but my visibility often seems to negate my living experiences
(any time i wear the trans colors
i’m read as
only femme)
(and while i feel
not
the gender i was assigned at birth,
my taste often finds itself
aligning
with what my assigned gender
is ‘supposed to’ like)
(but i’m not just gay
as in happy
[though often i have this
demeanor]
i’m also queer
as in fuck the system,
as in i will always stand up for those with less power,
as in my entire identity will always be a political statement
because much of it is often politicized without my consent,
and i know of others with intersecting identities
on top of the identity[ies] we share
who will never be out of the line of fire from politicians
trying to gain power
over others)
so i’ll stand up
tall
(as my barely over five-foot-frame will let me)
and proud
of my trans identity,
my non-binary identity,
my queer-in-all-the-ways identity,
and tell everyone who will listen
‘yes, thank you for listening
to me,
an actual trans person,
but please
also listen
to those who fall under the binary umbrella
underneath the larger trans umbrella,
especially trans women,
and listen to those who fall under other marginalized identities,
listen to Black trans folks,
listen to Indigenous trans folks [Indigenous two-spirit people],
listen to trans people of color
listen to those folks of color with darker skin,
listen to trans people with disabilities
listen to trans people who aren’t neurotypical
listen to trans people who aren’t from your country,
listen to trans people who don’t look anything like you,
listen to trans folks who make you feel uncomfortable with your privilege
listen to trans folks who fight the system that was built to tear them down.
and honestly,
if you listen to those folks first
(which i encourage you to do)
and you have a lot of introspection to do
and you don’t have the time
or energy
or capacity
to listen to my words
afterwards,
i’d much prefer that.
listen to trans folks with less privilege than myself
expand your knowledge
first.
(maybe we’ll see each other in the metaphorical
‘audience’
and wave ‘hi!’)
just remember, folx,
in this epoch of rainbow capitalism
that wearing your Pride is encouraging,
exciting,
exceptional,
try (if you can) to buy queer-made
so that our money funds our community,
and so that the big businesses know
they can’t obfuscate our memories
with shiny color spectrums;
we remember when they funded hate speech against us,
(and we know they have never formally apologized,
just realized they could take our money as well as our humanity
at the same damn time),
and we know the true meaning of Pride
is against the man
against the machine
against the culture of conformity.
our ancestors fought hard fights
for us to live out loud today.
let us honor their memories
by fucking with the system
that holds anyone down.
staring at this blank screen
trying to come up with the poems to write today
the concepts flowing in and out
thinness
and queerness
and how they intersect
body dysmorphia and dysphoria
(words i get so mixed up
because they are near equally balanced in my mind
and while they are two stems
they seem to bud into the one same flower),
and how these all intersect
but i’ve thrown a rib out of place
and i am spending a little too much time concentrating on
keeping the ice pack where it needs to be
even while my cat shifts her weight around on my lap,
and trying to pay attention to what positions i’m in
when the pain gets to a bit of a crescendo,
and apparently these are the things that my mind needs to concentrate on
not making the next great queer poetry collection
so…there’s that i guess.
[life]
kipventures 