[Image: Be Steadwell, smiling with arm outstretched, sings into a microphone.]
On Wednesday night I headed to Oakland for Black Queer+Trans Love Uncensored, an open mic and concert put on by Kin Folkz of Spectrum Queer Media (and volunteers). I’d met Kin last year at Black Queer Voices Rising, and many of the performers I saw at that event were at this one as well, including Blackberri, Jay-Marie Hill, and Thea Matthews.
[Image: Kin Folkz smiles, standing at a microphone in front of a sign reading (in part): “Spectrum Queer Media – Celebrating LGBTQIA Art”.]
[Image: Blackberri sings while playing guitar.]
[Image: Jay-Marie Hill sings while playing the electric bass. A sticker on the bass reads “Unapologetically Black.”]
[Image: Thea Matthews speaks into a microphone, wearing a shirt reading “The Black Woman Is God”.]
Thea was part of the Black.Seed queer liberation collective that shut down the Bay Bridge during a Black Lives Matter protest on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. She and many of the other participants in the open mic addressed racism and white supremacy.
[Image: Be Steadwell sings into a microphone.]
The headliner was Be Steadwell, who did a wonderful live looping performance.
I’m really glad spaces like this exist, as queer black folks are double marginalized. While enjoying the performances, I was thinking about a music class I recently attended for queer and trans folks (and our allies). I enjoyed the class and got a lot out of it, but couldn’t help noticing that I was the only black person in the room; out of 12 students, only one other appeared to be non-white.
The teacher of that class, a white trans man, is a great ally to black folks, and no one made me feel uncomfortable or anything. Back in my days of performing whiteness, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed or cared about the whiteness of that space, or any other. But since becoming more “woke”, it is always on my mind. I have more thoughts on this subject, which I’ll share in a future post.
My full set of photos from the event is available on Flickr. Please credit me as Pax Ahimsa Gethen if you use any of them, thanks!
A couple of weeks ago, oversaturated with news and commentary about Donald Trump that I’d been following nonstop for months, I decided to take a break from Facebook and most other social media and news sites. The last time I took a Facebook break, I was soon nagged by e-mails I didn’t sign up for about posts I didn’t care about; the same thing happened this time, and I had to unsubscribe from yet another notification list. I haven’t removed myself from the site completely, but avoiding posting and reading items in my news feed has been a welcome break.
While I tried to avoid reading or watching the news as well, I did happen to look at SFGate, and saw news about a fire in Oakland. Not realizing the scope of the disaster, I didn’t think much about it until I got a text from Ziggy, asking if I knew anyone who was there. Neither of us did, but we both had friends who were listed as “interested” in the Facebook event for the ill-fated concert at the Ghost Ship on December 2. This motivated me to read more about the incident, and I began contributing a substantial amount to the Wikipedia article on the fire. That article made the top of the “In the news” section of Wikipedia’s front page on December 4. (There wasn’t a good photo for the article available at the time of this screenshot; I later found some photos of the fire on Flickr, and convinced the photographer to upload them to Wikimedia Commons.)
[Image: A screenshot of Wikipedia’s “In the news” section. The top line reads, “A fire at a warehouse party leaves at least 30 people dead in Oakland, California.”]
This tragedy got me thinking about Facebook and the value of social media in spreading information in times of emergency. Coincidentally, I had just read an article in Wired (not currently available online) that talked about “Facebook Safety Check”, which has been deployed to help people find out if their friends are safe. The program has not been without controversy, but clearly many have found it helpful. As many issues as I have with Facebook, I can’t deny the power of a platform that has over a billion users, and is not likely going away any time soon.
I’m in no hurry to return to Facebook myself, however. My blog has gotten relatively few hits even when I have posted the links to Facebook and Twitter, and I am basically OK with that. Increasing visibility for marginalized people like myself who speak on sensitive and controversial topics has led to increased violence against us, especially now that bigots have been emboldened by the election results. Others may be better equipped to handle the hate speech, but I’m not obligated to subject myself to it, any more than necessary. I’m currently preferring to spend more of my time editing on Wikipedia, though I face marginalization there too, as I’ve spoken about previously.
Regardless, I’m not shutting my platforms down. I will still take photos and blog occasionally. I’m planning to shoot at least two or three events this month, and will link to the photos here after posting them (as usual). Being away from social media means missing reading about some events that I might like to shoot, but I do still (willingly) get e-mails of Facebook event invitations, comments, and private messages. (Comments on this blog are currently closed, but I can still be e-mailed at the address listed in the footer of every page; I’ve updated my About page to reflect this change.)
As always, if you value the work I do here and have the financial means, please sponsor me on Patreon or leave me a tip. I appreciate the support.
Tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, is supposed to be a day of gratitude and happiness. While I have much to be grateful for, I feel nothing but sorrow and grief.
I grieve for the first Americans, whose genocide is the true origin of the Thanksgiving holiday, as you can see in Kat Blaque’s video (transcript available).
I feel sorrow for my fellow queer and trans people who are scared for their safety, and may be sitting down face-to-face with relatives who voted for a man who will put their lives in further danger. I feel sorrow for my fellow people of color (of all genders) and for women (of all races) who will be in the same situation.
I grieve for my fellow animals, whose bodies, eggs, and milk will be feasted upon in even larger amounts than usual on this day. I feel sorrow for vegans who will be mocked by non-vegan friends and family members for their beliefs, but vegans are not an oppressed class of people.
While boycotting the traditional Thanksgiving meal (even if it is a vegan-friendly one) is a symbolic gesture, oppressed people also need support with money and activism. The Stand with Standing Rock site has information on how to donate money and supplies, write letters to elected officials, and take other actions to help the indigenous people.
While I often feel hopeless, I know we are not powerless to change history for the better. Those who are able to confront oppressors without compromising their own health and safety can and should do so. Some publications have given advice on how to talk with Trump-voting family members on this holiday, but it is important not to center white feelings when doing so.
[Image: Pax holds Ricky, a rooster living at PreetiRang Sanctuary. Photo by Ziggy.]
The winter holiday season has always been a difficult time for me. I took some comfort in visiting an animal sanctuary, PreetiRang, on a beautiful fall day this week. Connecting with the residents there helps me realize how interconnected we all are, and how protecting the most vulnerable among us is a valuable lesson in empathy and non-violence.
I may not live to see a day when humans evolve beyond our culture of killing, but I hold out hope that we can overcome our oppressors and begin to make a more livable society.
[Image: Min Matson and Janetta Johnson speak on a panel, accompanied by an ASL interpreter.]
Yesterday I attended a Trans Day of Remembrance (TDoR) event at TRANS:THRIVE in San Francisco. Each year, trans people and our allies worldwide gather to memorialize those lost to violence, and reaffirm the resilience of our community.
[Image: Agatha Varshenka plays the violin.]
[Image: Holy Old Man Bull speaks into a microphone with fist raised.]
The event began with viola and violin music by Agatha Varshenka, then an invocation from Holy Old Man Bull, a two-spirit Ohlone (whose land we are occupying). I remembered both of them from the Trans March.
[Image: An altar with photos, flowers, decorated skulls, and the transgender flag.]
[Image: Representatives from El/La Para TransLatinas speak on stage.]
Representatives from El/La Para TransLatinas then spoke about the altar they created to honor the dead.
[Image: Janetta Johnson speaks into a microphone while Min Matson looks on.]
[Image: Claudia Cabrera speaks into a microphone while Kataluna Enriquez looks on.]
[Image: Akira Jackson sits on stage, holding a water bottle.]
After the panelists answered prepared questions about the challenges and joys of being a member of the trans community and their hopes for the future, the audience was invited to participate. Some told emotional stories of the struggles and harassment they have faced. One asked if we could gather on more than just the three big occasions each year: TDoR, Trans March, and Trans Day of Visibility.
This event was held inside the Asian & Pacific Islander Wellness Center in the Tenderloin—the same neighborhood as the Black Excellence Tour I attended earlier this month—and had an all-PoC panel. This was not a space that centered the cisgender white gay men who are usually the face of the LGBT community (as one audience member pointed out). When a white trans woman who had some issues said “All lives matter,” Janetta Johnson graciously explained the purpose and intent of Black Lives Matter.
[Image: Kahanuola Salavea sings while playing ukulele.]
[Image: Victory “Vi” Le sings into a microphone.]
The event concluded with more music, from ukulele player Kahanuola Salavea and singer Victory “Vi” Le.
In lieu of reading the names of those killed out loud this year, Gwen Park made a beautiful video. The tribute honored not only the 25 trans people murdered in the U.S. this year, but the 249 murdered worldwide. The video ended on a hopeful note, with montages of trans and gender non-conforming (GNC) people, past and present, who are “doing the work” of liberation; I was honored to have my image included.
Gwen also designed the “I <3 Trans People” T-shirt that Akira and Min are wearing. You can order one, with or without an additional donation, to help low-income trans and GNC people in San Francisco.
My full set of photos from the event is available on Flickr. Please credit me as Pax Ahimsa Gethen if you use any of them, thanks!
[Image: A protester speaks into a microphone, while standing under an umbrella in front of a banner.]
Yesterday I ventured out in rainy weather to attend another anti-Trump protest in downtown San Francisco. Unlike the one I attended last Sunday, this rally and march was organized by the ANSWER Coalition, which has mounted numerous protests against racism and imperialism. Having attended the rally against racist police that ANSWER co-sponsored this summer, I knew that they would center people of color at this rally, and not just to pander to Democrats.
I was not disappointed. The speakers condemned white supremacy and neoliberalism as much as they condemned Donald Trump himself, if not more so. Some in the audience seemed impatient at this, but this was not merely a group of Hillary Clinton supporters expressing disappointment that their candidate lost. These were people who have been fighting back against white supremacy all along.
[Image: Protesters stand in the rain in front of a banner, with their fists raised in the air.]
I recognized one speaker from the Justice for Alex Nieto coalition, from another rally against racist police violence I attended this year. He pointed out that protesting, not voting, was what ousted San Francisco police chief Greg Suhr. He wore a shirt honoring another Bay Area person of color killed by the police, James “Nate” Greer. There’s plenty of racism right here in our “blue” state, sadly, and that’s always been the case.
[Image: A protester stands in the rain holding a sign reading “Got $ for War but Can’t Feed the Poor. Party for Socialism & Liberation”]
[Image: Protesters stand in the rain, holding signs.]
[Image: A protester stands in the rain, holding up a sign reading “8 trans people have died since the election”.]
Many carried signs for socialist organizations. Other causes were represented as well. One held up a heartbreaking sign pointing out the impact of the election on trans people. I went up to them and told them I was trans, and invited them to attend today’s Trans Day of Remembrance event in San Francisco.
[Image: A protester stands in the street in the rain, holding up a sign reading “Nasty women rise up!”]
[Image: A protester plays the trumpet while standing in the street in the rain.]
After the rally at UN Plaza, we marched down Market Street. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve marched there, this year alone. The mood was lightened by a group of musicians, who I think were from the Brass Liberation Orchestra.
I was glad to have the company of my friend and fellow queer vegan Saryta at this rally. I encourage all vegans and animal rights activists to speak out against oppression of marginalized humans, at every opportunity.
My full set of photos from the rally is available on Flickr. Some are also on Wikimedia Commons (alongside photos from other contributors). Please credit me as Pax Ahimsa Gethen if you use any of them, thanks!
[Image: Activists Joshua Allen and CeCe McDonald speak in front of a screen showing their images and the words “black excellence tour”.]
Yesterday I was still feeling very shaky and sleep-deprived after the election results, and was tempted to either stay home and rest or go out to join a demonstration. But I had committed to attending the Black Excellence Tour, featuring black activists CeCe McDonald, a trans woman who was imprisoned in a men’s facility for defending herself, and Joshua Allen, a gender non-conforming organizer and abolitionist.
[Image: CeCe McDonald speaks into a microphone.]
I had first seen CeCe speak at the Trans Day of Remembrance last November; my photo of her speaking there is currently featured on her Wikipedia page. She is the subject of the documentary Free CeCe, which I’m attending tonight at the San Francisco Transgender Film Festival. I contributed to the fundraiser for this film, which also features Laverne Cox of Orange is the New Black; CeCe was Laverne’s inspiration for her character on that show.
Hearing CeCe talk the day after the election was a great reality check. She said that she woke up that morning “unbothered”; with all the oppression she and folks like her have faced, including under the Obama administration, it was “just another day” to her.
CeCe is a woman who gives no fucks about respectability politics. She said we need to respect the people with their pants down around their knees and the heroin users as much as any other folks. This was especially poignant given the talk’s location in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district. The venue, Faithful Fools, offers ministry and services for the people in that troubled area. I had a good talk with Sam Dennison, one of the residents and workers there.
[Image: Joshua Allen speaks into a microphone.]
Joshua Allen spoke about their activism for queer, trans, and gender non-conforming people, and the intersections of gender, race, and class, especially with regard to policing. I asked them a question about how to cope with being non-binary in a binary world. They replied that they had hope for change, and that if others tried to force their “gendered apparatus” on us then that was their problem, not ours.
I’m very glad I went to this event, and spent time in the company of queer and trans people of color. We need each others’ support, now more than ever.
My full set of photos from the event is available on Flickr. Please credit me as Pax Ahimsa Gethen if you use any of them, thanks!
[Image: Screenshot from NBC News of Donald Trump speaking in Iowa, with the caption “What did Donald Trump think of the third night of the DNC?” A quote from Trump reads, “I wanted to hit a couple of those speakers so hard… so hard their heads would spin they’d never recover.”]
Last night, along with the rest of the world, I watched the election returns come in with a growing sense of dread and disgust. Unlike many of my friends reacting on Facebook with shock and horror, however, the result was not entirely surprising to me. This country was built on a foundation of exclusion and oppression of everyone except for straight cisgender white Christian men, and those are the people who Trump correctly predicted constituted the “silent majority” that would carry him to victory.
Although I did not endorse or vote for Hillary Clinton, I don’t want to talk about her flaws, perceived or actual. I don’t want to talk about e-mail servers or Wikileaks or Russian interference or what might have happened if Bernie Sanders had been the Democratic candidate. And I definitely don’t want to talk about third party “spoilers”. Anyone blaming or shaming progressives who voted for third parties, or who didn’t vote at all, needs to keep your comments out of my space.
The only thing I want to address right now is that millions of US-Americans voted for a man who ran on a campaign of unbridled bigotry, bullying, and blatant dishonesty. The people who say they want to “Make America Great Again” are thinking of a time when people like me—a queer black trans atheist—were invisible and openly oppressed, and ridiculed with impunity without any fear of repercussions. A time when joking or bragging about sexually harassing women was more socially acceptable, inside or outside of locker rooms. A time when religious freedom applied only to people practicing different flavors of Christianity.
This oppression and invisibility and rape culture never actually went away, which is what many of those who were shocked with the election results didn’t understand. You all need to understand it now. Donald Trump is the product—the very embodiment—of white supremacy. His people have spoken, and they want to “take back” a country that they never actually lost in the first place.
I am not willing to take this result quietly. I am a pacifist, but not passive; I support loud, angry protests and civil disobedience. Last night, people in a number of cities took to the streets, and that will continue today and likely for the forseeable future. This will not be a peaceful transition of power.
In the meantime, for anyone in the LGBT+ community who is feeling suicidal, please know that there is help out there. You can call the Trans Lifeline at 877-565-8860 or the Trevor Project at 866-488-7386. Our community is under attack, but we are resilient, and we will get through this if we have each others’ backs.
[Image: CeCe McDonald speaks at the Trans Day of Remembrance, SF.]
I had already planned to spend time with fellow black trans people (and our allies) over the next two days, tonight at the Black Excellence Tour with CeCe McDonald and Joshua Allen, and tomorrow night at the Free CeCe documentary that opens the San Francisco Transgender Film Festival. I will have to miss the Trump protests in San Francisco and Oakland tonight, but it’s important for me to be with some of the people who are most impacted by his bigotry.
I am not OK. I was not OK before the election, and I don’t know if I ever will be OK in the future. If you want to support me, please amplify the voices of the marginalized people who have been speaking out against institutionalized oppression all along. Make our country great, for the first time.
[Image: Pax speaks at a podium while fellow presenters Jami Mathewson and Wynnie Lamour look on. Photo by Ziggy.]
[Image: Wikimedia Foundation Executive Director Katherine Maher speaks at a podium.]
While I was nervous about how my talk would be received by this audience, the reception far exceeded my expectations. Numerous attendees came up to me throughout the conference, thanking me for my presentation. Those thanking me included Wikimedia Foundation Executive Director Katherine Maher, who posted about my talk on Twitter. Another attendee said that he’d be updating the software of a web site he manages for thousands of people, based on my recommendations for more accurately representing gender diversity.
[Image: Pax and Chris “Jethro” Schilling pose for a photo. Photo by Ziggy.]
[Image: Lane Rasberry moderates a discussion at the WikiConference.]
In addition to the positive feedback, I also enjoyed meeting a number of Wikipedians I’d only interacted with online, including Chris “Jethro” Schilling, Jake Orlowitz, Jason Moore, and Lane Rasberry. I was far more social than I expected to be, considering the stress of travel and the sleep deprivation from our noisy hotel room.
I attended a number of sessions at the event, and was impressed that the organizers made a sincere effort to represent diversity, at a deep rather than superficial level. “Inclusivity” was the theme of the conference, and several talks addressed gender and racial disparities, not only on Wikipedia but in society at large. Indigenous People’s Day occurred during the conference, and several talks (including a keynote) and an edit-a-thon centered on Native American history and culture.
[Image: Pax stands on a staircase inside the San Diego Central Library, under the words “We read to know we are not alone.” Photo by Ziggy.]
As welcome as I felt at the event, I was still marginalized by my trans status during the trip. The only gender-neutral restroom I saw at the conference facility (the beautiful San Diego Central Public Library) was a locked “family restroom” that required patrons to ask staff for access. (I used the men’s room.) The San Diego airport did have an all-gender restroom right across from my gate, but on the return trip both Ziggy and I were both misgendered and briefly detained by the TSA. The TSA staff at SFO had called me “Sir” and had a male agent pat down my legs, but in San Diego three agents stared at me until one of them pointed to their pink-and-blue monitor and said, right in front of my face, “It’s a female!” I responded, “Actually I’m male, but I don’t care who screens me.” (I just really, really wanted to get home.)
Regardless, I am glad I made this trip, and grateful that my concerns about transgender representation on Wikipedia are being heard and taken seriously. Ziggy is encouraging me to pursue paid public speaking gigs based on this and othertalks I’ve given on transgender issues. I’m skeptical about doing these talks on a regular basis, as I dislike travel and strongly prefer writing over speaking. But I do agree that trans folks should be compensated for sharing our stories and expertise. (Here are some other things to keep in mind when booking a trans speaker or performer.)
My Transgender Gap talk is available on Google Slides (with notes) and as a PDF on Wikimedia Commons. A video should be available soon as well. My photos from the trip are available on Flickr; many are also on Wikimedia Commons, along with photos from other attendees. Please credit me (as Pax Ahimsa Gethen), Ziggy, or whatever other photographer is listed if you use any of the photos, thanks!
P.S. The second presidential debate was shown at the conference during a scheduled reception. I only watched part of it; the less said about it, the better. (Obligatory reminder of my independent political status.)
[Image: Self-portrait of Pax wearing glasses with red and black frames.]
Content note: Medical issues, including needles.
When I started on testosterone therapy in January 2014, my partner Ziggy and I were both trained to do the intramuscular injections. You can see the general procedure in this instructional video, created by and for transmasculine people:
I had intended for Ziggy to do my injections, but decided I preferred to do them myself; I felt confident enough in the technique, and had never been afraid of needles. This worked out pretty well… until yesterday.
This failure had been building up for awhile. For the last couple of months I’d grown increasingly anxious, starting the day before my biweekly injections, sometimes even sooner. When the time came, I would fill the syringe and then sit with the needle poised above my thigh, unwilling to pierce my skin and plunge that much-needed solution into my muscle.
I tried various techniques that had worked in the past, such as deep breathing and singing. But whenever I got ready to inject, my heart would pound and a wave of nausea would overtake me. This would go on for up to half an hour before I was finally able to inject, and then during the injection my hand would shake, sometimes violently, causing my thigh muscle to spasm and literally tearing me up inside.
Yesterday morning, I just couldn’t do it. The anxiety and nausea were too much. I threw out the syringe, wasting a dose, and sent Ziggy a text, asking him to help me when he got off work late that night. He readily agreed, and everything went very smoothly. But I felt sick and ashamed the entire day about needing help, as absurd and uncharacteristically “macho” as that might seem.
The nurse practitioner who trained us had warned me about this. She said some trans folks inject for years without a problem, and then find themselves unable to do it. Some won’t even consider injections in the first place; they use hormone creams, which are much more expensive, harder to control the dosage of, and need to be applied daily.
There are a couple of other options for testosterone therapy, which I’ll be asking my doctor about at my next appointment: Longer-lasting implants and injections, which need to be done at a doctor’s office. I don’t know if either would be covered by my insurance, but it’s worth finding out. Even though I’m already middle-aged, right now I can’t imagine having to keep doing biweekly injections for the rest of my life. I’m growing increasingly resentful that I wasn’t born with the correct hormone profile in the first place.*
Stopping hormones altogether isn’t an option. For one thing, my body hasn’t sufficiently “masculinized” yet; I’ve been on T less than three years. But even more importantly, I’m pre-menopausal, and having my periods return is completely unacceptable. Yes, I still might have my uterus and ovaries removed, but surgery is a risky proposition, no matter how “routine” that procedure is considered. And I would still need to continue hormone therapy anyway, as my body would then be producing no sex hormones at all.
These thoughts are something that I would have shared in a “friends-only” entry before I launched this blog, but all of my blog writing is public now. I feel it’s important for transmasculine people—regardless of whether we are men or non-binary—to know that it’s OK to be vulnerable and ask for help. It’s also important for us to be able to share knowledge, as the field of FTM medicine is still in its infancy, and most doctors are ignorant about our needs. I can only imagine that 50 years from now, trans guys will read about what we went through during this time, and shake their heads or laugh.
For those wanting a more private discussion forum, I’ve found the FTM community on LiveJournal to be helpful, even though it’s not highly active. Hudson’s FTM Resource Guide is very useful as well. Both have advice applicable to non-binary female-assigned people like myself as well as trans men.
I am grateful I have access to the medical help I need to live a more authentic life. I hope that the world comes to accept that gender dysphoria is a legitimate condition that needs to be taken seriously.
* It’s important to note that the “born in the wrong body” trope is not accurate for many trans people. What matters is our self-identification, regardless of our “biology“.
[Image: A sign with multiple gender symbols and the words “Inclusive restroom.”]
Here in the state of California, a couple of positive legal developments emerged recently that are of particular interest to people with non-binary gender identities like myself.
The first bit of good news is about restroom access. On September 29, Governor Jerry Brown signed what is known as the “All Gender” Restroom Bill, requiring single-occupancy restrooms to be accessible to people of all gender identities. This development is long overdue. While I’d personally prefer that all restrooms be gender-neutral, there is no reasonable argument for gendering single-occupancy facilities.
Opening up these restrooms will benefit not only non-binary people, but many others as well. Some examples: Binary trans people who do not “pass” as cisgender; cisgender people who are often misgendered due to their appearance (butch women, for example); and caretakers of people of a different gender (children, elderly, disabled) who require assistance to use a restroom.
While no one should be policed for using facilities that most closely match their gender identity, offering gender-neutral spaces provides an additional measure of safety and comfort. I look forward to a time when people in all states (and countries) realize that we all just need to pee.
The second bit of good news is about legal identification. On September 26, Sara Kelly Keenan became the second U.S. citizen and first California resident to obtain legal non-binary status. Keenan, who uses she/her pronouns and identifies as intersex “both as my medical reality and as my gender identification,” followed a precedent set in Oregon this June by Jamie Shupe, a non-binary transgender person. Keenan was represented by an attorney from the Intersex & Genderqueer Recognition Project, which is working to get non-binary adults the right to self-identify on legal documents.
A couple of things are important to note here. Most intersex people identify as male or female, not non-binary. Including intersex in the LGBTQIA or similar acronyms is controversial. Some intersex people want nothing to do with the trans liberation movement; they simply want to end nonconsensual infant surgeries and other damaging practices. Also, many non-binary people, including Jamie Shupe and myself, do not identify as genderqueer. (Shupe prefers not to be referred to with any pronouns, but will accept singular they.)
For Keenan, Shupe, and other non-binary people, there’s still a long way to go; it is not currently possible to get a non-binary driver’s license or passport in the U.S., for example. For this and other reasons, I will not be seeking to change my own legal identification from male to non-binary anytime soon. Even if I do ultimately gain legal recognition as agender, that won’t stop me from being misgendered constantly on the street. As with my birth certificate, a court order is a government-issued piece of paper that has limited use in an everyday context.
Regardless, these are positive developments, and a nice break from depressing election coverage. I look forward to more progress in non-binary gender recognition. Reminder: I will be speaking about trans and non-binary issues this weekend at WikiConference North America.
[Image: Kin Folkz smiles, standing at a microphone in front of a sign reading (in part): “Spectrum Queer Media – Celebrating LGBTQIA Art”.]
[Image: Blackberri sings while playing guitar.]
[Image: Jay-Marie Hill sings while playing the electric bass. A sticker on the bass reads “Unapologetically Black.”]
[Image: Thea Matthews speaks into a microphone, wearing a shirt reading “The Black Woman Is God”.]
[Image: Be Steadwell sings into a microphone.]
