RuPaul Diatribe

A recent interview with RuPaul has once again filled me with rage. I have tried numerous times to give her the benefit of the doubt, but her "Real Talk" interview only confirmed what I feared to be true: that her callous, loathsome attitude and behavior only serve to further marginalize the most vulnerable members of our community. The most disturbing part of the entire interview is that her hypocrisy and prejudices are cleverly disguised by her ability to speak eloquently and at length. They are embedded amongst numerous other points that actually do have some validity. The most dangerous people in this world are those charismatic enough to twist the minds of others into believing even their most wretched thoughts--who use their charm to hypnotize the masses into surrendering their ability to critically analyze behavior, language, and situations.


Before I embark on this somewhat lengthy break-down of the most problematic assertions of the interview, I must offer the following bit of advice. Language, whether we want to admit it or not, IS important. It underlies and shapes all thoughts, attitudes, and behaviors. Language has the power to save lives, as well as the power to kill. As a linguist, it is hard for me to overstate the role of language in personal and societal development. There are multiple instances during this interview where RuPaul deflects questions and avoids lengthy discussion of topics that would fully expose her bigotry by asserting that language doesn't matter, and it's all about fun. She even goes so far as to say that being hurt by language is stupid and only further reinforces "trigger-happy" people's perceptions of their own victimhood. Because, you know, if a rape survivor can't laugh about being raped, then they are automatically inferior to me and undeserving of my respect or validation. Dismissal of the idea that respecting others, particularly those who have been through the trauma of fighting for their lives as transphobic slurs are hurled at them, is not advocating for your community. It is erasing the identities and lived experiences of the people that literally gave you the right to be the person you are today and to have a mainstream television show.


Ru further goes on to dismiss questions about the relationship between trans identities and drag. She calls the question "boring" and becomes defensive when the interviewer asserts that it's a bit more complicated than that. Her language becomes decidedly "us versus them" as she insinuates that people who take their identities seriously are "dumb as fuck". The further proves how out of touch with reality this queen can be. Listen, when all you have in this world is your identity because you have been denied access to equal housing, employment, medical care, and basic services based on that identity, any attempt to erase it or take it from you will have you fighting for your very life. Even more simply, we are MURDERED because of our identities, so yeah, we do kind of take that seriously. And does she not remember the trans queens that came out during the production of her show? Her assertions further erase the idea that an entertainer in the drag industry can also be trans, leading to a more beautifully complex intersection of identities that are equally legitimate.


It only gets more absurd as Ru's hypocrisy comes out. She continually reasserts the idea that she can float between femme and butch, yet she only frames this in the context of drag, somehow forgetting the lived experiences of genderqueer people. One wonders if these people would be allowed on her show, and, if they were, what does that say about her attitudes toward exclusively feminine-presenting and -identified trans individuals?


She further has the audacity to say that drag is supposed to be the antithesis of mainstream, with the goals of continually pushing boundaries and blurring lines, yet her television show and previous responses to questioning by entertainers who do not identify as cisgender males do nothing but reinforce boundaries within our own community and draw quite clear lines on what she believe qualifies as drag or worthy of the spotlight. Of course, this is television, and producers have every right to do whatever the hell they please, but rather than claim exclusivity on the basis of personal preference, Ru has continued to assert that other forms of drag are either not really drag or somehow less valid than others. I have mentioned this before, but my definition of drag is as follows: the deliberate deconstruction and reconstruction of gender. I don't think you can get more inclusive than that, and you sure as hell don't have to shit on anyone's identity or lived experience in using it. But my very identity is what will make my remarks less valid in this world.


If you only believe and pay attention to the words of those with the loudest, most accessible voices, you are missing the majority of the conversation. Ru is a celebrity who has done some wonderful things, but it has become quite clear that she is out of touch with the queer community. However, for some reason, the dominant, white cis gay male culture loves to eat up the shit that she spews out of her mouth sometimes, and problematic, oppressive, and downright violent discourse is perpetuated. Do you know what would be awesome? If queens (and even other entertainers) could stop bowing down to this bitch as if she were a deity and start thinking for themselves about what's best for the people our community so often enjoys throwing under the bus.


I think I've stopped shaking now. But am I done? I'll be done when the work is done. Until then, I fight for those whose voices are silenced, whose lives are erased, sometimes quite literally. And I will not apologize for that. I love you all, and goodnight.

Xenophobia

I used to write about my gender with a passion I haven't been able to feel in quite some time, and while that may seem depressing at first, I have come to realize that it's more of a testament to the distance traversed by the ripples of my masculinity in a culture of white, cisgender gay men seemingly obsessed with such hyperbolic representations. I am only occasionally reminded of my differences, and lately, the ones who've been reminding me of those differences--the ones who have shut me and others not "fortunate" enough to have had top surgery completely out of the picture--have been trans men. It is also not lost on me that these men tend to be young, fit, predominantly white, cis-passing transmen. Rather than feeling "not trans enough" for most of my community, I now feel as if I'm too trans. 

My unmarked body may one day become home to long-awaited scars.
Or it may not.

Though the men who call me brother may agree that we are all immigrants to this land of culturally recognized masculinity, I cannot hear them through the wall their xenophobia has built. I pose with my hands above my head in hopes that my citizenship will not be denied, knowing quite fully that sneaking across the border does nothing to save those who've already failed by not passing. We watch through cracks in the wall, listening to speeches littered with self-congratulatory proclamations of acceptance and equality. It's so loud that I think my ears may bleed before my breasts: "MAKE TRANS GREAT AGAIN!"

Time

I've been caught between rock bottom and the vision of what my future has the potential to hold. If the last seven months have taught me anything, it is that outside factors have the ability to change your circumstances within seconds, while internal forces effect change at a much slower rate. It's been a long journey--one whose beginning isn't exactly a finite point in time. As each day goes by, I tend to feel like the clock is ticking, like time is working against me. But these last few weeks especially have taught me that time is not the real enemy. I am.

More specifically, my subconscious fear of asking for help has probably had more to do with my inability to move forward in the ways I desire. My fear of failure also has an enormous impact on my levels of confidence and motivation, but even when I manage to temporarily surmount those, I seem to fall short again and again. As I've started to become a part of the "real" world again, I am realizing how painfully limited I have allowed my circle and life to become. It wasn't a conscious decision at first. At a time when I was giving so much of myself to everyone around me, I could already feel the pressures of having to be unbreakable. When I first lost the community I had worked so hard to build back in 2012 due to both financial and personal troubles, I started to feel the extent of my brokenness--a feeling that has stayed with me to this moment. But I also started to close myself to the forces that allowed me to become so broken in the first place. Year after year, I gave a little bit less each time a new friendship loomed on the horizon, each time someone in my community needed my help. It was out of nothing more than self-preservation that I began to do this. But I've come to realize that I've been doing this for so long that I may have forgotten how to be strong, not only for others but for myself as well.

Here I am now with all these dreams and desires, knowing that I cannot achieve them alone, without a community behind me. Some of this is my own doing, but I cannot help but think that so many of the people I helped along the way--even considered friends--have turned their backs on me. I see them occasionally, and it's almost visible in their eyes the amount of discomfort they feel around me, and I wonder if that is because the also know that they did nothing for me when I was in need of the most help. I'm still struggling to rebuild myself and my ability to connect with other people, which isn't easy with all of this on my mind.

I know I do not belong here. We have six months to decide where our journey will take us. Ironically, we feel that we need to move further away from the people we know in order to grow in our ability to connect. I don't know where we'll end up. I wonder if I will have a choice.

My mother said something to me the other day that has been with me ever since. I'd never thought about it before. We were texting about life and jobs, and at one point, I ended up saying, "I don't know what I'll become." Her response left me speechless:

"I still don't know what I want to be either."

Maybe I have more time than I thought. I still cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I may be getting closer to finding the tools I need to light my own way.

Snowflakes

I've been staring at a blank screen for twenty minutes, unable to decide which direction these post needs to go. I thought about writing about the impending snowstorm and the accompanying panic enveloping the region, but I've also wanted to explore my changing identity because that seems to be causing me the most trouble. And maybe that isn't the best way to phrase it, but it's all I've got right now.

Today is one of those days where I don't feel terribly miserable, but I know I'm not exactly happy. One of the most difficult things about waking up for me is knowing that I do not have complete freedom. I can't just decide to do something and do it. It's also difficult to deal with the isolation. I miss doing things with other people. I miss having friends, really. But there's more to it than that. I feel like I am losing parts of myself that have been crucial to my existence up to this point. I no longer have access to the blueprint for my own life. I feel empty, even on the best days. My world is pretty much this house, 90 percent of the time. I talk to my dogs. I'm well enough at the moment to know that I need to do something, but I'm not sure what that is.

I don't know how to save myself from this, and when others try and fail to help, it seems like they only get angrier with me for things not going as planned. I keep wondering how many more years this could continue. Even when I felt lost before, at least I had certain things. I had community, mostly. That and hope, I suppose. It seems obvious why I feel the way I do, but that doesn't mean I'm in any position to change it.

The snowflakes have started to fall.

Words for Later, When I Have Time

depression gets off on choking me

cums down my throat 

as the words are making their way into the world

so when people tell me 

try to look on the bright side

I tell them

try getting face-fucked 

by your own thoughts

Activism and Energy Drinks

Tonight, I noticed just how far removed I am from the role I want to have in my community. What started as a lively Facebook discussion turned into a more introspective argument I've been having inside my own head for the last hour or so. I have had grand plans to start something here in Morgantown, and the ideas just keep accumulating. However, lack of funding and, more generally, stability have kept me from pursuing anything more than detailed conversations. But perhaps this isn't a bad thing. I spent years working for others without ever paying much thought to my own needs, too focused on creating a safe space for others to notice that I had not yet figured out how to provide one for myself. I may be a hermit these days, but I think I've needed this time to prepare myself for whatever comes next. I believe I have reached the stage where I know what pieces I need to live a more active, meaningful life, though I haven't quite figured out how to put them together.

There are so many people I want to let back into my life after having shut them out for so long, mostly in an attempt to avoid drama and pain. But there are some people that are absolutely worth that. But I'm finding it hard to reach out these days because it does seem like people have long since forgotten me, and I'm wondering if they too feel that it would be worth it, or if they have made up their minds to move on and leave me in the past. You see, I've also reached the stage where I realize that I have a limited amount of energy. I know I can't do everything, please everyone, or even come close a lot of the time. I am putting much more emphasis on the quality of my interactions and relationships than quantity. I am finding it more difficult to feel connected to people by simply scrolling through a few screens. I want to hear their voices. I want to be with them again. While I have these desires, I also have an incredible amount of fear. I'm out of practice when it comes to dealing with other humans. Anxiety and fear rule my life most of the time. This is definitely a huge problem, and I realize that this can't continue if I want to be productive and progress.

I am actually proud of myself for even posting a response to something I thought was rather misdirected. I wasn't afraid to speak my mind, and that does feel like the old me. Today is one of the days where I feel like life may be slowly coming back into balance for me. But the loneliness I am feeling somehow manages to overshadow the small amount of pleasure I've derived from the events of the last few hours.

I've been on a pretty normal schedule for a few days, and it allows me to feel like I am keeping up with what I need to do. Without the chaos, I realize how alone I am. We had a full day planned, but he started feeling sick and needed to rest. This, combined with my spending the night in alone yesterday, makes me realize that I do not have very many connections to others at this time in my life. And I miss them. I miss feeling close to other humans. I miss being able to hang out with people and swap stories. Usually, when I get tired of living in my own head, it's a sign that my mood is stabilizing. However, I'm still proceeding with caution because I know how quickly that can change.

Morning

I am sensing a shift in the way I function. It's probably been happening for a while now, but since it manifests in a peculiar way, it's taken me a while to admit that things might be better this way. I used to be very much a night person, always waiting until the world quieted down to begin working on the most important tasks of the day. And since it was much more acceptable to live that way in college, I thrived. But for a couple of years now, nights haven't been the same. The quiet is distracting at best and overwhelming at worst. I think I'm becoming a morning person. After weeks of terrible sleep, my body attempted to adjust by sleeping far too long yesterday, but that only meant that I was able to wake up shortly after six this morning, feeling pretty confident and optimistic. And that's been happening a lot. Even when I'm absolutely exhausted, forcing myself to get up at what most would consider a reasonable time allows me to be productive. But that's the trouble. I notice that I'm far more productive and that my spirits are generally higher when I can stick to being diurnal, but my energy levels don't match up with this pattern. I'll still find myself exhausted midway through the day, and attempting to go to bed before midnight usually results in my waking up at 2 or 3 in the morning, feeling like I'm bouncing off the walls. I suppose another complicating factor is that, while we both agree that we need to be better at adulating in general, we never seem to be in the same place at the same time. It's hard to stick to a routine when your partner's is the complete opposite because it can feel like you never get to spend time with one another.

Now for something completely unrelated...

I had a job interview yesterday that completely wiped me out. Two and a half hours and a total of nine people later, I'm still unsure how things went. I would like to think that an entire department would not have put so much effort into a candidate they weren't seriously considering. But having an actual full-time job with a respectable salary and being able to utilize my education and work experience would be a relief.

I'm distracted right now, so you're not getting much more out of me this morning.