Showing posts with label guest blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest blogging. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

I Am Not Looking For Sex

TransGriot Note:  Y'all asked for her, you got her.   More musings from author Pamela Hayes


I Am Not Looking For Sex
by Pamela Hayes




Recently, I posted pictures of myself in various forums online. For years, I have been posting essays about my experiences as a trans woman and a number of people requested pictures. I guess they were curious about my appearance. So, I posted images of myself.

A number of men have invited me out to eat. Have asked for my phone number. Gave me their phone numbers. People are intrigued by transsexuals and I get it. I understand the questions . . . questions that seem probing. I am not bothered by their curiosity. I don’t mind enlightening people.

Some of the emails have been offensive. One man wrote that he wasn’t gay, but that he was curious about sex with a transsexual. He sent me photographs of himself. In a few, he was fully clothed and some were of his penis--soft and erect. I sent the pictures to the cyber wastebasket. And I didn’t respond to him.

A few days later, he wrote saying that he wanted us to get together, repeating that he wondered about sex with a transsexual. He said he wanted me to take him somewhere he had never been.

I am not remotely flattered by this. I find it offensive.

I posted some pics of myself to let people know what I look like and to make some online friends. I have enjoyed some of my exchanges with people. They have been entertaining and informative. I’ve learned about books. Movies. One guy is interested in writing and he sent me some of his work and he’s damn GOOD.

But some assholes have assumed that I’m online trying to get laid.

And that is untrue.  Nowhere did I say or even insinuate that I was looking for no-strings sex.

Those pictures are not the least bit suggestive. I’m clad in casual attire, wearing minimal makeup. Which is what I always do. I wasn’t wearing some cheesy get-up from Victoria’s Secret. 


So why did some men think I was out to get picked up?

And if I was in the market for recreational sex, I wouldn’t be interested in carrying on with a man who told me that he was curious about me. Imagine, being in a sexual situation with a person who wants to experiment with you. Hey, I’m not a laboratory animal.

And to the curious guys who want to try out a transsexual, contact an escort service. For a fee, someone will help you out.



Sunday, July 18, 2010

Moni's Guest Posting At The Rude Pundit

One of the highest compliments you can get or signs that people like your work (besides garnering awards for it) is when your blogging peers ask you to write posts in their spaces, or ask to use yours.

Earlier this week I was honored to be asked by the Rude Pundit to post at his blog as part of his LGBT Week.

I'm due up on Friday July 23, and I'm following some pretty heavy hitters in the LGBT gayposphere.

Will/Wolf of Back2Stonewall kick it off on Monday, Pam Spaulding (my blogging shero) of Pam's House Blend on Tuesday, Jim Burroway of Box Turtle Bulletin on Wednesday, and Michael Petrelis of The Petrelis Files on Thursday.

So surf on by the Rude Pundit on Friday or here and see what I come up with.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Juiced-Up Gay Transphobic Bullies With Mouthpieces

TransGriot Note: From my shero, attorney and trans historian Kat Rose of ENDABlog.

Interesting new developments in the Israel Luna vs Trans community battle over his TOTWK movie. It mirrors a situation I went through last year when I called out a now defunct blog for their transphobia and racism, the bigots tried similar intimidation tactics and brought the wrath of the blogosphere down upon them.

Take it away, Katrina!


Wow – this is really choice. With a Tribeca-supplied dimebag of fake legitimacy pulsing through their veins – amplifying its existing faux-bravery reminiscent a schoolyard bully with a legion of anti-PC (when it comes to trans issues anyway) gay Eddie Haskels backing him up – the Luna-Ticks ascend to a new high in low.

From a Facebook posting from truly legitimate Texas trans activist Vanessa Edwards Foster:

Among other nice commentary from supporters of Israel Luna’s latest piece of film art (or something) comes this ….


————————————————————————————————
NOTICE OF POSSIBLE COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT

Ms. Foster,

As the owner of the copyrighted material of the official TICKED-OFF TRANNIES WITH KNIVES movie poster, we are placing you on notice that it is our understanding and belief that the derivative use of the poster image appearing on your blog risks copyright infringement as it was not authorized by us. It is in good faith that we are extending this notice to you and in turn requesting that you kindly remove the unauthorized material immediately.

Respectfully,
Toni Miller
La Luna Entertainment
_________________________________________________________


Imagine that! And from the same people who had no problem with unauthorized use of a couple of hate crime murder victims.

So, I guess they plan on suing me and taking me straight into bankruptcy. Huzzah. That will make an excellent image: the impoverished, infringed-upon filmmakers taking down the Goliath lone Trans activist. It will also do wonders for community relations — not that there’s any need for such great friends and allies as they’re obviously quite trans-positive per their own words! And who are we to disbelieve?

So if you were wondering if any of us “hot tranny messes” were going to be rewarded for bringing them all their “free publicity,” there’s your answer! Certainly! Legal threats!

GLAAD, take note!

***

I’m taking note – and I am hereby publicizing the image. And this should not be interpreted as an endorsement of it – wink, wink – but, rather, merely as a public service from someone who believes that the cure for disgusting, gay transphobic speech is counter-speech.

After all, because of the threat by the Luna-Ticks, the very subject of what is contained in Vanessa’s derivative image is ripe for vigorous public debate.



Debate away, folks! And, while you’re debating…

Keep the following in mind:

§ 107. Limitations on exclusive rights: Fair use
Notwithstanding the provisions of sections 106 and 106A, the fair use of a copyrighted work, including such use by reproduction in copies or phonorecords or by any other means specified by that section, for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research, is not an infringement of copyright. In determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use the factors to be considered shall include—

(1) the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;
(2) the nature of the copyrighted work;
(3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and
(4) the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.

The fact that a work is unpublished shall not itself bar a finding of fair use if such finding is made upon consideration of all the above factors.

***

but if you happen to engage in a boycott of any particular gay-male-manufactured transphobic piece of garbage, I’m not exactly in a position to stop you, now am I?

Sunday, April 4, 2010

What Happened In Surabaya Should Never Stay In Surabaya

TransGriot Note: You think we have drama here in the States fighting some of our right wing opponents and our recalcitrant gay and lesbian frenemies for our rights, try being a GLBT activist in other parts of the world.

Fighting for your rights there can put you at risk for physical violence and possible death in addition to fighting faith based intolerance.

Here is Sass Rogando Sasot's account originally posted on her Facebook page about the recent ILGA Asia conference in Surabaya, Indonesia. It was interfered with and forced to cancel by the oppressive tag team of Islamic fundamentalists and Indonesian government officials.

Photos of Surabaya drama by Sylvia Tan


***

Thursday, 25 March

Singapore to Surabaya

Together with JJ, my fellow communication officer in Asia of the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans & Intersex Association (ILGA), I was in a hotel in Singapore when I read the news that the Indonesian Police in Surabaya ordered the cancellation of the 4th ILGA Asia Regional Conference. JJ then asked me to check my ILGA mail for any advisory. There was none. So we then proceeded to go to the airport.

While waiting for our flight to Surabaya, I took advantage of the free internet of the Changi Airport to check for updates about the conference. Aernout, my boyfriend, was online at that time. He expressed his concern and asked me whether I would still go to Surabaya. I told him, yes as we didn’t receive any advisory from ILGA not to go.

Aernout is very supportive of what I do, so even though he would rather asked me not to go he just said: “I know this is part of your calling…just be careful and text me as soon as you landed in Surabaya.” He also advised me to get a local sim card so he could easily contact me.

At the internet kiosk, JJ and I met another participant, a guy from India; and while waiting for our boarding call, I saw Agniva, a trans activist, also from India. We asked them whether they heard of the news. They said yes and “it was all over the news.”

When we were already on the plane and were given the arrival/departure card by the flight attendants, I asked JJ what we should say our purpose of going to Indonesia was. JJ told me to just say “convention” – human rights convention if specifically asked what kind – and “leisure”. And that was what we did.

Surabaya

There were people waiting for us at the airport. It wasn’t difficult to spot them as they were holding rainbow flags. They informed us that the conference was not cancelled and we were moving it from the Mercure to the Oval Hotel, although the conference will be held “underground”.

Upon arrival at the Oval Hotel, I saw familiar faces and gave them hugs. After all the exchange of sweetness, I immediately checked in, went to my room, and unpacked. Then I went to register for the conference. The registration area was somewhere in the basement of the hotel. The atmosphere was jovial. There were even girls at the registration area who were flirting with me as I pick up my conference kit and shirt. Then came my first ordeal of the day: Activating an Indonesian sim card.

The receptionist told me where to buy the sim card; she was even helpful enough to write on a piece of paper Bahasa phrases that I could show to the store so they would understand what I was looking for. The store was just at the back of the hotel. I got myself a Simpati sim card and two top-up vouchers. I inserted the sim into my phone and started using it. But Indonesian sim cards weren’t like those “plug-and-play” sim cards I was used to. Indonesian sim cards needed to be registered before you can use them. And I didn’t know this. I asked one of the local participants to help me sort it out. She was very helpful: She registered the sim card and made sure that I could already call, receive calls, and send and receive text. I immediately called my boyfriend to inform him that I was safe and there was no sign of danger anywhere.

I then browsed the contents of my conference kit, most specially the conference brochure. I checked the schedule of my presentation. I was one of the five speakers for the fourth plenary session: Transgender Rights in Asia, which was supposed to be on Sunday, the 28th of March. This ILGA Asia Regional Conference was such a significant one because this was the first time that transgender issues were discussed in a plenary. Asian transgender activists were so excited about this as our issues were being given this importance and attention. My supposed presentation was entitled “From Priestesses to Politicians: The Rise of the Transpinay”.

The brochure also has a section on how to get around Surabaya, which included LGBT-specific information. I smiled when I saw several transwomen-specific cruising spots under the “Meeting Place LGBT at Surabaya”. I feel happy to the single transwomen participants who fancy men – at least if they feel lonely and horny there are places to find an erotic/romantic companionship.

This was one of those rare moments that I’d seen information like this. Let’s be honest, conferences aren’t just all about discussing serious stuff, they are also events where you can meet people. There have been a lot of relationships – erotic, romantic, or both – that bloomed in conferences. It’s very easy for lesbians (whether they are transwomen or not) or gay men to, you know, have a little something-something during these conferences. Moreover, cruising spots guides usually feature those relevant to mostly gay men. For transwomen who fancy men, there would usually be no information on where to find men who fancy them. Perhaps people just assume that these men can be found in “gay” bars. Of course, transwomen of any culture know that this is very rarely the case. (Well, of course, I also hope to find transmen-specific cruising spots in the future.)

The brochure, and the fact that warias (a close equivalent of the term transwomen) in Indonesia can live openly, almost just like in the Philippines, gave me an impression that Surabaya and Indonesia in general is a relatively safe place. And I thought that the protests against the conference were just a minor hiccup and that the news about the threats might just be a media exaggeration. Hence, I felt safe and even went by myself to one of the famous malls in Surabaya. Nonetheless, I remained vigilant.

When I returned to the hotel, I borrowed someone’s laptop to check my mail and update my Facebook status. I read an email sent by Hender, a friend of mine from the Society of Transsexual Women of the Philippines (STRAP); she’s also the President of UP Babaylan, the first university-based LGBT organization. She is also one of the participants and a speaker in the youth panel. This youth plenary panel is another first in the ILGA Asia Regional Conference. Hender informed me that she was already at a train station in Jakarta, waiting for her train to Surabaya.

We, the communications team in Asia of ILGA, sans Douglas Sanders who hadn’t yet arrived, then had a meeting about how we were going to go about our presentation the following day, the “Enhancing Communication: The ILGA Communication Project in Asia”. I volunteered to do the powerpoint slides that would accompany our presentation. Since my laptop was still useless, I borrowed Agniva’s. But before making the powerpoint slides, I decided to take a nap as I was so tired. While in my deep sleep, the phone in my room rang. It was JJ, informing me to go to the registration area for the “security meeting” of the conference. I immediately went down.

The registration room was already almost full when I arrived. The atmosphere was still relaxed and full of smile. I saw more familiar faces and four more Filipino LGBT activists. The conference organizers led the security briefing. They told us that 1) the protestors already knew where we are; 2) that we have already received threats from several radical groups in Indonesia; 3) that there was a mass demonstration that happened that day in front of the Mercure Hotel, the original venue of the conference; 4) that we were no longer following the original programme, that they would just inform us of the programme and of the rooms where the sessions would be held as we would no longer hold the sessions in the function rooms; 5) we shouldn’t carry around us any paraphernalia related to the conference, they also advised us not to expose them even in our hotel rooms; and 6) the security strategy that was in place: intelligence, communication system, and evacuation plans.

While the briefing was going on, I surveyed the room and looked for Hender – she wasn’t there. It made me so worried. I immediately asked one of the supposed co-panelists of Hender in the youth plenary. No, she hadn’t heard from Hender also. I then expressed my worry to other Filipinos in the room. After the security briefing, I told Agniva, the trans activist from India, about my concern. She then asked me what time did Hender email me from Jakarta. I said sometime in the morning. “Well, the train ride takes ten hours Sass,” said Agniva. That gave me a sigh of relief. But still I was nervous. I didn’t feel that safe, especially that during the open forum of the security briefing a seasoned Indonesian activist told us that there had been an incident of violence during the candle-lighting event in Yogyakarta in 2000, which also happened inside a hotel.

When I went back to my room, I immediately hid all things related to the conference – T-shirts, IDs, brochure, readings. Then I called Aernout to inform him of our security briefing and that we were still going to continue the conference. “Okay, be safe baby. I love you,” he said, ending my first night in Surabaya.

Friday, 26 March

A text message coming from Aernout woke me up that day. I went on with my usual morning ritual. Feeling confident that day, I donned a suit over a dress and wore my almost 7-inch peep toe pumps.

I went down for breakfast. But before munching on croissants, I looked around the restaurant to see any sign of Hender. She wasn’t there yet. I shared the table with Justus Eisfeld, co-director of Global Action for Transgender Equality, and Gloria Careaga, one of the secretary generals of ILGA. I told them that I was really impressed about how this conference dedicated an entire plenary session and several workshops for transgender issues. We talked about the need of pushing transgender issues more. In the middle of our discussion, I saw Hender. I was relieved.

After breakfast, we then proceeded to the fourth floor for the opening of the conference. After the speeches from the organizers, we went to the hotel rooms of the workshop of our choice. There were three simultaneous workshops that morning: Strategizing for Regional LGBT Advocacy; Homophobia, Transphobia, and Domestic Violence; and Fridae Forum on Reaching Out to Queer Asia. Hender and I attended the second one.

The workshop had two presentations and was moderated by Anna Kirey (Kyrgyzstan). First one was about domestic violence among LGBT relationships in Indonesia, presented by Desya Pusponegoro (Indonesia). It was followed by the presentation of Ging Cristobal (Philippines), LBT Violence across Asia: Scenarios, Challenges, and the Future.

After the workshop, we were told that there wouldn’t be any more workshops for that day and that we could just use the day for sightseeing. We then went down to have snacks. Hender and I shared a table with two Indonesian participants who also attended the same workshop we were at. We talked about my boyfriend, what it was like to live in Surabaya, and what was there to see in Surabaya. Since Hender was into and had a knack in learning foreign languages, she asked harmless to naughty Bahasa phrases from them. Before our snack finished, Hender already knew the useful phrases she needed to know in order to ensnare an Indonesian guy – she was even christened an Indonesian name, “Ayu”, which they say is the Bahasa for “sweet”. They told me that I didn’t need one as my name “Sass” sounds like an Indonesian name; and I was told that I had the same aura of Dian Sastrowardoyo, an Indonesian actress.

After our snacks, Hender and I separated ways. She went to the room of our Indonesian friends. And together with JJ and Douglas Sanders, my fellow Communication Officers in Asia of ILGA and Stephen Barris, I had a meeting with the two secretary generals of ILGA, Gloria Carreaga and Renato Sabbadini. It was already lunchtime when we finished our meeting.

While we were in the middle of our lunch, one of the local organizers announced, “Please go now to your rooms, you can bring your food there. They are already here.” We then rushed to our hotel rooms with our lunch. While we were waiting for the elevator, we saw some of the protestors entering the hotel.

After finishing my lunch in my room, I went to Hender’s room. We then decided to go down to the first floor of the hotel where we could see what was happening in the lobby. There were also a few participants on the first floor, which included Ging Cristobal who is also from the Philippines. I tried to look down and see what was going on in the lobby. One of the protestors outside the hotel saw me. He gestured that he would beat me up by raising his clenched fist towards me. I immediately retreated.

I read it somewhere that we Filipinos are so good in using humor to cope with any stressful and traumatic situation. I couldn’t agree more. While we were on the first floor, Hender and I were joking about going down and introducing ourselves to the protestors ala “Miss Gay” beauty pageant contestants: “Standing in front of you is a 19-year old stunner that goes by the name of Claudine Barrrreeeeettto!”. Then we sarcastically said that perhaps these people needed only to see something beautiful in their lives. To us Filipinos, this was a way of lightening up an otherwise tense situation. To others, this might be seen as an act of foolishness and lack of appreciation of the seriousness of the situation. Another participant who just didn’t get it approached Hender and told her in an ominous tone: “You don’t really want to further agitate them.”

Then we heard angry screams at the lobby. That made us rush back to our rooms. Hender and I went to my room. Hender was simply the epitome of cool. While we were at my room, Hender asked me to iron her hair; she wanted to have fabulous straight hair, if ever the fundamentalists attacked us. But what made me laugh more was her next statement. She opened the curtains of the windows and said: “This is so boring. I want to go out. We shouldn’t waste the beautiful Surabaya weather by staying in this hotel room.”

I was so eager to know what was the situation outside the hotel. I then asked Hender whether she knew any room that faced the front of the hotel as my room faced the back of the hotel. She suggested a room that was on the sixth floor. We went up and rang the bell. It was the room of some of the Chinese participants. They were videotaping what was happening outside: more police cars were arriving. The Chinese participants asked us what we thought of the situation. Hender and I expressed our fear about our safety that was being aggravated by the fact that we didn’t know what was really happening.

Then someone knocked on the door. One of the Mongolian participants entered and told us to pack our things for we would prepare for our evacuation. First, we doubted it for the last instruction that was given to us was just to stay inside our rooms. The room’s phone rang and it was confirmed: We had to pack.

Hender and I went down to our floors to start packing. After I packed everything, I went to Hender’s room and asked her to go down with me to the first floor, just to know what was really happening at the lobby. There were Indonesian participants on the first floor. They told us to just go back to our rooms. While on our way up, we saw several suspicious looking Indonesian men climbing up the stairs. Hender whispered to me “Scary!”. With a come-hither look in their faces, the men said “Hi” to us. I didn’t mind them and hurriedly run up the stairs. Then I noticed that Hender was no longer behind me. I heard Hender talking to the guys: “Hello! Sorry we’re lost…”

I shouted, “Hender!” When Hender was already with me, she told me that the guys said “It’s okay” and one of them caressed her hair.

----

Hender and I went to the hotel room of Ging Cristobal. Agniva was also there. We told them what happened with us on the stairs. We were all lamenting that we didn’t really know what was really happening. Then Aernout called.

I told him what was going on. He was so worried about me. I told him to monitor any news updates about this conference as we didn’t know what was happening as we didn’t have internet connection in our hotel rooms. I told him to post my Indonesian phone number on my facebook wall so that my friends could contact me.

Because he was on the train, Aernout texted my friend Nadine, who lives in London, to ask her to post my Indonesian number on my facebook wall. Nadine then called me and asked whether we were safe. I then gave my phone to Hender and uttered one of her funniest punchlines in Surabaya: “Hi Nadine! The only thing that’s safe here is the sex!”

After some time, Aernout called me again, updating me of the news he read about our ordeal, which included the news about students protests against the conference and the threat from the fundamentalists to raid every hotel in the Surabaya to make sure we wouldn’t be able to hold our conference. He then offered to call the Philippine consulate in Surabaya to inform them that we were in the hotel. I told him to just give me the number. He then said that he wished that he were in Surabaya to take care of me. He told me that if possible, next time he’d like to accompany me. He then asked how was Hender. I then gave the phone to Hender. Then Hender joked to Aernout that we would just go down to the lobby wearing swimsuits and high heels because that might be able to calm the protestors.

I then called the Philippine consulate in Surabaya. Mr. Sagrado, the honorary consul in Surabaya, talked to me. I informed him of the situation and that there were several Filipinos in the hotel. I then asked his contact numbers just in case we need help from them.

Aiyah, a friend of mine who lives in Boracay, also called me. She made sure that we were okay. She advised us to just stay in our room and to be very careful about dealing with the fundamentalists. She also told me that Aernout was keeping her informed about our situation and STRAP, the organization I belong to in the Philippines, was already alerted of what was happening in Surabaya.

---

I felt that we needed international press to be in Surabaya, just in case something happened to us. After all, all the news about this was just coming from the Indonesian press. I asked Ging whether it would be a good idea to inform international media such as CNN or BBC about what was happening. I told her that I could ask Aernout to find a way to be able to inform them. Ging then called the room of Grace Poore of IGLHRC. Ging asked Grace whether it was okay to inform international media. Grace said that we shouldn’t as there were no instructions from the local organizers to do that.

Then JJ called, asking me to proceed to Room 309.

Room 309

I immediately went to Room 309, our planning room. The local organizers were there, as well as the board members of ILGA Asia, the secretary generals of ILGA, and us, the communication officers. Tesa de Vela, representative of Isis International who is also from the Philippines, was facilitating our meeting.

The atmosphere during this time was still light, tension was still contained. Tesa was still calm during this time, telling us to just consider the situation as a hands-on training on the dangers of being an activist. She then told us that the conference was already cancelled. She then went on discussing two options: 1) We can stay in the hotel until the 30th; and 2) Those who would like to leave early can do so, their security as they go to the airport will be guaranteed by the police, but those participants should shoulder the expenses of rebooking their flights.

We then planned our communication strategy on how we would disseminate this information to the participants. We also formed two committees. One committee was in-charge of going from room to room to inform the participants of the situation and the options. Another committee, the committee I belong to, was composed of the communication officers in Asia plus one of the local organizers. We were in-charge of drafting the chronology of events, which would serve as our communique.

The floor was then opened for questions and clarifications. I was one of those who asked a question. I told them that it wasn’t enough to tell the participants about the options. I told them that the participants deserved to know what was really happening, as they didn’t have any clue about the entire situation. I also told them that we should also clarify to the participants our exact relationship with the police for according to the news the police couldn’t guarantee our safety.

In between our discussions, members of Indonesian police kept entering our room to talk with the local organizers. Honestly, I didn’t feel at ease with them entering the room. At one instance, two police officers entered the room – one of them had three stars embellishing his shoulders. All talks with the police were in Bahasa, keeping a lot of us in the dark.

----

Then there was this piece of paper, being signed by one of the local organizers. It was a signed agreement between us and the fundamentalists, an agreement that included that we shouldn’t issue any media statement.

Tesa asked the lawyers in the group whether that was legally binding. Douglas Sanders said no and iterated that the cancellation of the conference was illegal under Indonesian law.

---

We then went on doing the tasks assigned to us. Our committee went to the room of JJ to draft “the chronology of events”. Douglas Sanders drafted it. Douglas joked to me that this ordeal just added more color to my story as a transgender activist. To which I replied, “I can already imagine how I will start the sentence in this chapter of my life: While I was walking in my almost 7-inch heels, the fundamentalists arrived.” This made us both laugh. Renato Sabbadini, one of the secretary generals of ILGA, then arrived to assist in drafting the communiqué.

---

It was already dinner, and we were already hungry. We asked Renato whether it was safe for us to go down and have dinner at the restaurant. Renato said he would check and call us if it was okay to go down.

In a few minutes, he called us and informed us that it was okay to go down; we just had to avoid passing through the lobby by using the stairs going to the restaurant. So we did.

---

While we were at the restaurant, members of Indonesian media entered the hotel and were trying to take video footage. The hotel management asked them to get out. The presence of the media inside the hotel agitated the protestors; some of them went inside the hotel and started shouting. The hotel just told us that dinner would just be served in our hotel rooms.

I immediately left the restaurant and went to Room 309 again.

When I went back to Room 309 the atmosphere was now more tense. There were now more people in the room. They also called all the participants to gather there.

There were new developments. Tesa said that they had gathered reports that in the next day more protestors would gather in the hotel and they might be armed. The original plan was scratched. We had to evacuate the hotel. They told us their strategy on how we were going to do this: They had already identified several safe houses and small hotels in Surabaya to which we would be housed until the time of our flights out of Surabaya; and we have to go out in small numbers.

People got confused. Several concerns were raised. “What about our security?!!” Room 309 was a nerve waiting to explode.

I was on the verge of crying. When Ging saw that, she said, “Just cry later.” I held back my tears. We both know that if anyone had started to cry in that room an avalanche of emotional breakdown would had been triggered.

The committee assigned to convey the new information to all the participants went on doing their task.

Participants also started to evacuate by themselves. Several funding agencies were also being called to fund the return tickets of the participants.

I told Hender that we better go back to our rooms, get our bags, and just meet again in Room 309.

When I entered my room, it was the time I palpably felt my fear. I left the door open as I tried to reach my bag. I was so afraid that when I went inside, someone would just be there and try to hurt me.

Upon getting my bag, I called Aernout and told him about the situation. It was the time that I started breaking down. I told him about the threats of the fundamentalists. I told him I felt so defeated, that we didn’t even give up a fight. And the hate of the fundamentalists were just too much: before I only encountered these kind of people in the news but having experienced them in real life was another level of a disheartening experience. I also told him that everything was becoming more and more confusing as information changed almost every 30 minutes. Aernout kept me calm and assured me that I would be safe. He urged me to just find a way to get out of Surabaya immediately and to not fully trust the police.

During my conversation with Aernout, I saw one of the participants getting out of her room. Her eyes were still red and swelling. We gave each other a hug.

---

Packed dinners were brought to Room 309.

Everyone was keeping their calm all throughout the ordeal. But the fear of the participants was so palpable. The corridors felt longer. Lights felt dimmer. And the air felt heavier.

Then it was announced that the fundamentalists were already going from floor to floor, making sure that we’re no longer holding any conference or that we are already leaving the hotel. It was clear. They want us out. Several times we had to keep quiet inside the room so that the fundamentalists who were walking around our floor wouldn’t hear us.

---

Eva Lee (China) had just come back from her duty of going from room to room to inform the participants of the latest developments. I saw her trying to contain her tears. I asked her to sit beside me. I gave her a comforting hug.

---

Ging entered Room 309 and announced that the Philippine consulate would fetch all the Filipino participants and house them to safety. It felt like I was lifted out of a well I had accidentally fallen into. But I felt sad about the people we were going to leave at the hotel. And I couldn’t help but feel guilty about just leaving them there. And what about those participants who came from a country that aren’t sympathetic at all of LGBT people? Would their consulates take care of them?

Ging then told Hender and I to proceed to her room. Hender and I said our goodbyes to the people in the room. Then I informed Aernout that the Philippine consulate was already going to fetch us.

Ging’s Room

Several police officers just left the room of Ging when Hender and I arrived. Ging, JJ, Agniva, and an Indonesian activist were in the room. The Indonesian activist told us that we would be safe soon. She also told us that she would be staying at the hotel until all the participants were gone. She also apologized for what was happening and told us that if ever we needed anything she would just be in her room. When she left, the Philippine consul called Ging. He told Ging that the head of the police assigned in securing the Oval Hotel told him that we were safe in the hotel: meaning, there was no need for the consulate to fetch us.

We all objected to the assessment of the police. It was clear to us. We were not safe, we didn’t feel safe, and we didn’t know whether we could ever trust the police. We just want to get out of the hotel as soon as possible. Ging also told the consul that the fundamentalists were already going from floor to floor. We didn’t feel secure at all. However, the consul seemed keener to believe the police than us.

We thought of another plan. Luckily, JJ knew someone from the Philippine Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA). JJ told her contact of what was happening. To cut things short, the DFA called the consul and ordered him to fetch us by himself.

While JJ and Ging were busy arranging our exit from the hotel, I was busy arranging our return flights to Manila. Aernout was on the phone helping me. He checked the soonest available flights from Surabaya to Manila.

Ging was also arranging to get support from an international funding agency to pay for our flights. But it took a while for them to confirm. As a safety net, I asked Aernout to just pay and book for our flights; we would just pay him as soon as we got the fund. Aernout agreed. He then asked me to text him our passport details.

---

The consul arrived in our hotel room. At last, we can now leave the hotel. There were several police officers that escorted us to the lobby of the hotel. We waited for a few minutes at the lobby while the driver of the consul get their car. We saw several fundamentalists that were still at the lobby. I saw one of them smiling a mocking triumphant smile as we walked out of the hotel.

When we arrived at the house of the consul, Ging got a call from the Urgent Action Fund for Women, telling her that they would be booking and pay for our return tickets. I then told Aernout that there was no need to buy our tickets anymore.

As soon as I lay down on the bed, I immediately fell asleep. My body just gave up from all the stress, tension and terror.

Saturday, 27 March

Since our flight back to Manila was in the late afternoon, we decided to buy souvenirs before going to the airport.

After buying our souvenirs, we got our stuff from the house of the consul and went straight to the hotel in a taxi. We were too early for our flight. JJ and Hender decided to buy some Indonesian delicacies. Hender told me that while they were at the store, someone asked her where they were from. When she said “from the Philippines”, the attendant told her, “Oh, the Conference?” We felt a bit scared.

When we were about to enter the airport, we saw Tesa, Myrza, and their little daughter arrived. Tesa told us that the lives of the local participants might be endangered as the fundamentalists got hold of the list of the name of all the participants.

Sunday, 28 March

We knew that the Surabaya crisis wasn’t finished yet. When we were back in Manila, we found out that the office of the Gaya Nusantara, the local organizer, was sealed by the fundamentalists and the staff are now working at home. Moreover, the Ministry of Religious Affairs are now considering to file criminal charges against the local organizers. The crime: Blasphemy.

---

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” the cliché goes. But we know that this isn’t true with Surabaya for the terror, the pain, the tension we experienced in Surabaya are lingering on. Some of us are still trying to process what happened. Tears were shed and are still continue to be shed by others. Personally speaking, I can still feel the trauma and I’m afraid I am making my boyfriend unfairly experience the effects of this trauma by making mountains out of ant hills – hopefully, his patience and understanding will not run out sooner than the pace of my full recovery.

What happened in Surabaya is one of those ominous signs that religious fundamentalism is on the rise. What happened in Surabaya is a victory that will surely inspire those people who are against our existence to strengthen their delusion that their delusions have more right to exist in this world than us. But what happened in Surabaya will also be a source of strength to those who are still finding the courage to stand up.

This is a reminder that our work is not yet done and how much work is still waiting for us. Wake up! This ordeal is telling us. Wake up and reclaim your freedom!


___


My warmest gratitude:
To the local organizers for doing their best! Your bravery is admirable!

To the honorary Philippine consulate in Surabaya, thank you for fetching us from the hotel and for sheltering us.

And to Aernout Schram de Jong, my ever-supportive friend, affectionate lover, and reassuring warmth, thank you for staying with me all throughout this ordeal by calling me almost every 30-minutes. This ordeal made me realize how deeply in love I was with you and how deeply you cared for me…

---
Sass Rogando Sasot is a transpinay transgender rights activist. She is one the Communication Officers in Asia of ILGA; a columnist for Outrage Magazine, the Philippines first online LGBTZine, and one of founders of the Society of Transsexual Women of the Philippines (STRAP), the first transgender rights and support advocacy group in the Philippines.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Dan Savage's Transphobic Azz Strikes Again

TransGriot Note: A wonderful post from my brilliant sis Renee at Womanist Musings. And no sis, you aren't alone in your observation that Savage is a (you name the phobic) jerk.

Well, Dan Savage is a winner isn’t he? Is there a group of people that he is unwilling to verbally assault and “other,” in order to assert his undeserved privilege? It seems that for Savage, the best way to attack someone, is to suggest that they are trans, even when the opposite is true.

To the right is a photo of Washington state Attorney General Rob McKenna, who Savage declared was FTM


It's staggering that Rob McKenna, a female-to-male transsexual, is making it harder for other FTMs (and MTFs) to access the life saving sex-reassignment surgery that allowed Rob to become the man he is today. Rob had the resources to finance his own sex-reassignment surgery—presumably—but that doesn't excuse Rob's cruel disregard for his low-income transgendered brothers and sisters or his making common cause with anti-trans bigots in states like Virginia and Mississippi.

For shame, Rob.


Really Savage? You’re going to take something that is so incredibly serious and then make tongue in cheek statements. If he did not have a history of making transphobic commentary, perhaps I could believe that he simply failed to do the proper research, but his own history convicts him.

When dealing with a conservative, there are plenty of ways that you can be critical, only someone drunk on privilege decides that the best course of events is to attack a marginalized group. When we consider that the gay community has a history of throwing the trans community under the bus, his commentary is truly problematic. Dan Savage does not speak for all gay men; however, his extremely high profile suggests that many continue to consider his views to be of great importance, though he has a history of making racist, abelist and transphobic comments.

I really think that Dan Savage needs a huge cup of STFU. Until he begins to recognize his various privileges (and yes, gay men can still be privileged), he is doing far more harm to his community than good. When you throw your allies under the bus, and taunt them cruelly, it makes people that much more reluctant to stand up and fight when you are being abused, because we wonder if we are next in the line of fire.

I don’t care if Dan Savage is your gay super hero with a capitol G; if the man is being abelist, racist and transphobic, perhaps your definition of hero needs to be examined. How many times have marginalized groups suggested, that when you fail to take an intersectional approach to organizing, we all suffer? Only a man like Savage who is White, male, class privileged and cisgender could fail to see that his, I’m just like you approach to advocacy is damaging. No movement for civil rights has ever been successful without allies, and yet people like Savage continue to believe that they can just throw people under the bus, while minimizing their humanity and then demand that they come to bat for you as needed.

So, I am just going to say it: The man is not amusing or enlightening; he is cruel. As long as he continues to sit in judgment of others and to perpetuate a harmful hierarchy of bodies, he has no business sitting in judgment of anyone. Glass houses Savage, perhaps it’s time you discover that you live in one.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Teabaggers, You Owe Great Britain A Lot Of Money!

TransGriot Note: I have no love for the racist white wing Teabagger movement. Saw this interesting post from Maura Hennessey which points out that if the Teabaggers continue to claim they are the heirs of the peeps who conducted the original 1774 Tea Party in Boston, there may be potential legal and fiscal consequences.

Teabaggers, you owe Her Majesty's Government a lot of money

Dear Teabaggers,
As a former counsel attached to the Chancellor's office, and having once represented the parent company of Messers Davison, Newman and Company, Ltd, I feel that it is my duty to my clients to bring to your attention the following facts:

You claim to be the legal heirs, as well as the moral heirs, to a group of gentlemen who illegally trespassed upon the merchant ship Fortune, a brigantine then commanded by Benjamin Gorsham, Master and carrying a mixed cargo, including Twenty Eight Teak Chests containing Tea, the lot consigned to Mr Henry Lloyd of Boston Massachusetts, a merchant.

These gentlemen committed the following illegal act on the Seventh of March, the 1774th year of the Common Era and the Thirteenth Year of the Reign of HRM King George III of happy memory, to wit: They did trespass upon Fortune, breaking into the hold, and brought the tea onto the decks where they broke the chests and spilled them into the Charles River.

Of this shipment, Sixteen Chests were the property of Davison, Newman & Co, Tea Merchants and Importers, London. Said Sixteen Chests and their Contents were insured by Messers Peregrine Cust, James Bradley, Charles Harris, Robert Thornton and William Greenwood who wrote a policy with themselves holding the Risk at Lloyds signed and effective upon the Twenty Third of December in the year 1773.

Messers Cust, Bradeley paid to the policy holders Messers Davison, Newman & Co the sum of Four Hundred Eighty Pounds Sterling, the agreed and insured value of the Sixteen Teak Chests and their Contents.

Messers Cust, Bradley et al did therefore petition His Royal Majesty for relief, successfully, with His Majesty's Government covering the expenses and levying a tax to recover said expenditures upon the responsible individuals.

Owing to the subsequent unpleasantness in the Americas between 1775 and 1783, this amount was not reimbursed in spite of it being legally levied in response of the willful destruction of private property.

Therefore, the responsibility for the payment of said amount devolves upon the legal heirs and assigns of said perpetrators, which you freely claim to be.

Said legal heirs currently include Ms Sarah Palin, Mr Glenn Beck and the membership of an Organisation known as "Tea Party Patriots"

On behalf of the Government of Her Royal Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, etc, the successor to the Government of His Late Royal Majesty George the Third, I petition and demand that the owed sum of Four Hundred Eighty Pounds Sterling, legally levied in the Year 1774 be paid with suitable interest, said sum in current monetary value now being the equivalent of $8,924,601,649.92 reckoned at six percent per annum.

I remain your Obedient Servant,
Maureen Eileen Hennessey, Q.C.
On behalf of Her Majesty's Government

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Why I Am Out As A Transgender Entertainer

TransGriot Note: Sometimes you wonder as a blogger whether people are actually reading your posts. Well, got an e-mail from our guest poster that stated she loved one of my recent posts so much it inspired her to write this one.

Say hello to Alyras, singer, editor of the Art of Pop blog and our guest poster today.



Seven years ago, shortly after moving to San Francisco, I was having a conversation with a young [preop FTM (female-to-male)] man about social responsibility as an artist; relative to one's being queer and out. He thought it's very important to be out for others who do not have the capacity to be so; to enable them to have positive models. Accordingly, he felt that is was my duty to be open about who I am. I strongly, no, adamantly disagreed. "That's my business!", I told him. "I'm not ...obligated to anyone to be out. Besides, there are a lot of others who will take that step." "You're wrong", he retorted. "They're too afraid and, as a transperson, there's nobody like you who can stand up and communicate to the Black community." Neither of us budged from our positions on that matter.

I was living in stealth when we had that conversation and I felt (and continue to feel) that I deserve to be as closeted as I wanna be in order for me to not have to deal with rejection and heat from the world about my being a transwoman. It indescribably hurts to develop heartfelt relationships with people who see me and get to know me without the transsexual label [and all its relative terms], to then have them learn of that aspect of my being and to instantly feel their flow of Love to me shift to fear and rejection, to see the look in their eyes turn from genuine warmth and appreciation to genuine loathing, scorn and, sometimes malice - sunshine to darkness, frequently within 2-3 seconds, just because of that single thing.

Can you imagine that?? Can you imagine what it's like to be the recipient of that reaction?? If you can, even remotely, then understand, I have experienced that too frequently to even try to count. And I'm fortunate; my mama and daddy gave me great DNA and I can just blend in, with no prob. If I don't want people to know I'm transsexual, all I need to do is not disclose that info. In my business, it's not considered as good PR. In fact, historically (and in my personal experience), in BIG show business, being openly transgender typically has had an overwhelmingly detrimental effect on one's career; and I think BIG. So, why change my personal and quite comfortable status quo to out myself?

Well, the initial shift began after my friend and I had that conversation, which inspired me to join the Transcendence Gospel Choir, resulting in my being publicly out around the country as we toured, and around the world as a result of press and films about us. But, other than my original inspirational music and the Choir, I separated my sacred music life and profile from that of my secular music, (and I'm primarily a secular musician). From the Choir and other creative activities here in the City, many people in the local queer community knew of my being a transperson, but otherwise, it wasn't generally known. A couple of years ago, speaking as one of my elders, a friend of my mother's told me, "People have to get to know you to accept you. For them to know you, they have to see you and spend time with you." He was speaking of a specific community; naturally, I extrapolated his comment to include the entire galaxy, and I pondered what he'd said. For awhile.


Eventually, (and somewhat recently), I began coming across articles by journalists addressing the dearth of black transgender public figures. The Black community's rejection of us is insidious; it inspires us to hide out, to lay lowwwww. ~ (Particularly, the backstabbing of the Black church). Church goin' folks will just lo-o-o-o-ove all over you; hugs, blessings, smiles, positive words, invitations, introductions, the whole shebang - until they discover you're gay, lesbian and, God forbid, "don't go there", a transgender person. Then, it's ice, venom, curses and steel; and that's the real deal, from the pulpit and the pantry.

For most black people in America, church is important and that's typical Black church love towards transgender people; or, rather the denial of it. Faced with a life impairing and threatening denial, most black transgender persons either leave the church or keep quiet and lay lowwwww. That double denial, that of love and that of positive public role models results in scores of black, transgender youth suicides every year. There, but for the grace of God, went I.

Transgender people tend to be gifted and highly intelligent people; those kids take unusual degrees of talent, skill and capacity with them, lessening the entire world. (It will continue until some of us have the courage to just be real about who we are, to help our own community displace its collective negative baggage about transgenderism - which is completely accommodated by the words of Jesus Christ Himself, Matt. 19: 11, 12, though [as He Himself said] not everybody can accept it. - I'm glad He loved us enough to directly speak up for us!!)

A few days ago, I received an email from a fan with a link to a blog posting about transgender persons being completely left out of BET's "Who's Who In Black GLBT America". When I read it online, it was linked to an article about the sorrowful lack of positive, black transgender roles models, period. I decided to spend some time doing my own research into fellow, out, black transwomen musicians. After well over two hours, I could only find 5; all female, one singer, four singer/songwriters, the latter set all on Myspace, myself included, two of us here in the San Francisco Bay Area, three in CA. (Surely, there are more, but where are they?? ?? ??)

My mother's friend was correct. Years earlier, my young friend was correct. We're not seen, so we're not known, so we're not accepted and the hundreds of black kids out there who were born like us are not given the certainty that it's just okay to be themselves, as we are, and create, or teach, or design buildings, or lead companies or parent, or whatever we do, as we do.

Being out, as I am now, was a very difficult choice; like most people do with difficult choices, I finally made it when the cost of maintaining stealth became greater than the value, in the big picture. For me to have to dig and only find 3 other genuine expressions of professional, black, transgender musical talent in addition to my was an appalling slap in the face.

Minimal presence equals minimal support; in evidence, community failure - thus far, even the black, creative LGBT community has failed to acknowledge us. If we're not even acknowledged by our own community, how can the world EVER get to the point of being able to do so? (About 4 years ago, the fortune in my fortune cookie said something like, "People are looking for you. They just don't know where to find you.")

At some point, as the author of the blog wrote, we need to start makin' a noise, tooting our own horn as out, creative transwomen in order to let people know we're here and where we are, so they can hear us. Our community may deny us, be we'll not deny ourselves, or others the blessings that come from knowing us.

I confess, my initial choice to be out was primarily motivated by my not wanting to get post relationship rejection in my business dealings any more. That disclosure-rejection paradigm in business, after having spent perhaps years developing and tuning good relationships, is career devastating; (my career once evidenced that.) My attitude was, "If people are going to reject me, I'd rather have them do so before them getting into relationship with me and wasting my life force." Now, as it was with the Choir, it's motivated by Love.

Years ago, I asked God why He created transgender persons. His answer was, "To increase your families' capacity to Love." That being said, I joined the Choir. That being said, I'm an out transgender entertainer in order to increase my community's capacity to Love and, therefore, my country's and, therefore, the world's.

If my being out makes it possible for one little boy or girl, perceived now as a girl or boy respectively, to be loved by their family enough to be supported, [to get the therapy and evaluation and confirmation necessary for them] to have an optimally healthy transition, while also being enabled and even empowered to explore expressing their talents and gifts as the genuine persons they are (regardless of their age), my following the wise counsel of good friends will make my choice to be so a very worthwhile decision. Certainly, it assures me that those who do decide they want to partner with me to capitalize on my talents and resources are mostly likely going to be in my corner for a long ride, with no ejection seat. Either way, "it's not easy being green", but Love is furthered. Now, that being said, let me entertain you! :D

***

Anyone who has links to web sites of other black, transgender singer/songwriters, MtF or FtM, feel free to post them in the comments below. I'd like that.