Come On People, Now...

The trouble may have started with an itinerant Jewish preacher a couple of thousand years ago.  Boy, did that guy have some kooky ideas.  One of the things he said was, “love your neighbor”.  How crazy is that?  I mean, humans are pack animals.  Instinctually, they only care about those in their group.  Everyone else is Other, the enemy, not worthy of consideration as fellow human beings.  But this guy was calling for people to disregard those boundaries, to actually care about people outside of their little group. 

 Of course, the whole thing hinges on who your neighbor actually is.  There seem to be two basic approaches to this.  One is to expand the definition of neighbor to include as many people as possible.  The other is to exclude as many people as you can.  The second approach is very understandable.  As mentioned above, it’s default human behavior.  And, hey, it’s so draining to care about all those people!  So why not shrink your neighbors to as small a group as possible—that way, you can comfortably ignore and/or hate so many more people?  It’s certainly easier than caring!

There are lots of ways to exclude people.  You can restrict yourself to caring only about yourself, or your family if you must.  Maybe your friends.  You can let authority figures tell you who the Others are.  Your parents, your pastor, your Congressman, the guy on the radio, the President—one or more of them should be able to tell you.  Or, you can exclude people because they don’t believe the same things as you.  Or if they look different, or speak a different language, or try to stubbornly hold on to some aspects of their native culture when they move into your neighborhood.  If you’re really feeling generous, you can extend your circle to include everyone in your whole country—well, at least the ones who think like you; the others are obviously traitors or worse.  Same thing for the people in those countries our leaders identify as allies; but if they’re not with us, they’re against us!

The Others are different from our Neighbors.  They don’t value families.  They don’t love Their parents or Their children.  If a few of Them live in poverty, or are stricken with disease, or if They die, no big deal.  It’s not like They’re our neighbors, for Pete’s sake!  It’s debatable if They even have the same emotions that We do.  One thing’s for certain, though—They’re trying to destroy Our way of life.  They want to tear down everything We hold dear.  They want Us to be more like Them, when it’s obvious that They should be more like Us.

Imagine how terrible it would be if everyone on Earth was your neighbor.  Then you might begin to care if some people are suffering when you’re not, even if they live in another country.  You might feel compelled to try to help those less fortunate than yourself, or even to work for justice for all people.  How exhausting!  You’d have to admit that you don’t have all the answers, that you might be wrong about some things.  You might even have to give up your feelings of superiority, that everyone else would be better people if they could just be more like you.  How horrible!  See what a slippery slope this is?  Once you start loving your neighbor, who knows where it will lead?

Disclaimer: Results may vary.  See your doctor for more details.  May cause cynicism if used improperly.  Some parts of this blog contain irony that may be unsuitable for people from the vicinity of Betelgeuse.  The author of this blog has no official credentials in sociology, anthropology, theology, or philosopy, and may, in fact, have just been crabby when she wrote this.

Three Years Gone

A bit more than three years ago, I was consumed with the mechanics of how to stop living a life divided between two gender presentations and begin living as a whole woman.  After 25 years of not understanding why and how I was different, struggling with my gender identity and what to do about it for more than 15 years, and then about five more years of dragging my feet down the path I needed to walk, there was now some urgency.  Partly it was due to my worsening dysphoria, partly impatience, partly the increasing difficulty of hiding my changing body, and partly because thepresidential election was nigh.

Unlike many people I knew, I thought there was a good chance Donald Trump would be elected.  I recognized who he was early on, and could see the white resentment building during Barack Obama’s administration.  I saw very clearly that he was a fascist by inclination, and despite his words to the contrary, no friend of LGBTQ+ people.  So, as it became more and more obvious that he would be the Republican nominee, I began to visualize various nightmare scenarios.

With The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich in the back of my mind, I imagined gangs of emboldened bigots roaming the streets, seizing those they saw as other, setting fire to their houses.  I saw the stripping away of civil rights for nonwhite people, women, and queer people.  I saw concentration camps being set up.  My anxiety grew by leaps and bounds.

Transitioning to an outwardly new gender role is very hard.  It feels kind of like preparing to jump a wide chasm.  For me, transitioning happened when my discomfort with having to present as a man overcame the anxiety of “jumping”.  But as I watched what was happening in the country, it gave me pause.  Many people in my life, mostly family, friends, and coworkers (who tend to be more conservative), saw me as a straight white man.  I could perhaps be safe if the persecutions I envisioned came to pass.  After much thought, though, I rejected this idea.  I decided I would rather live one day like a lion than a thousand years like a lamb.  Choosing between finally being myself and hiding behind a facade in fear was really no choice at all.  So I prepared to jump.

And I wanted to jump before any regime change happened.  The current administration had pronounced that my employment status was protected by Title VII, the Civil Rights Act (as well as by developing policies at my workplace).  Rules had been put in place under Secretary of State Hillary Clinton that would allow me to straightforwardly get a new passport with my new name and my correct gender.  I needed to get things done before the rules changed.  So as quickly as I could, I arranged my transition at work, legally changed my name, drivers license, Social Security card, passport, and every other thing I could think of.

I started writing this on a day with the Supreme Court heard arguments on three cases that test whether Title VII really does cover LGBTQ+ people.  In a few months, the Court will decide whether I, and people like me, have equal protection under the law, or can legally be discriminated against.  Donald Trump’s administration keeps trying to persecute transgender people in particular; excluding us from military service, ruling that government contractors can discriminate against us, trying to roll back healthcare protections, and the list goes on.  There has been an increase in white supremicist organization activity, emboldened by the racist-in-chief.  There was been an increase in domestic terrorism (AKA mass shootings), much of it perpetrated by male white supremacists who don’t much like queer people either.  It turned out that brown immigrants and their children were the first to be put in concentration camps, but I feel sure that if this administration continues long enough, queer people will wind up there, too.  It is a frightening time to be an American if you are not white, straight, male, and Christian.

Still, I don’t regret transitioning for one second.  I have had the good fortune to have lived for three years like a lion, and I hope to live many more.  I will continue in my own small way to fight for what is right and true, and I know there are many with me in that struggle.  I truly believe we will get through this.  Keep the faith and fight the power, my people.