I Knew (transcript)
(Acetone transfer of handwriting) I knew. I knew the misogyny was going to win, this time. I hate that I was right, but 50+ years of life (20 in the South east) I knew she was doomed from the start. I knew because of the stranger's hands on my breasts in the club. I knew because of the propositions for affairs from male coworkers. I knew from the advertisements about how I should think about my body. I knew from the policing of my clothes by employers not the policing of the men looking and talking. I knew from the irrational jealousy if I even talked to another man. I knew everything but how to stop it. I did try though. I knew that I would fail.
(Acetone transfer of handwriting) The next morning I went to Morning Prayer at my liberal-leaning Episcopal seminary + felt drained by hearing God called "he" again + again. It felt interwoven.
for a lot of years I didn't know why I would oftentimes find myself defending trans people when my father and brother would say transphobic things. I think at the end of the day, I knew.
I AM TRANS (drawing, abstract but suggesting a figure with a dark circle within)
Going to school, I'm a teacher, and looking into the eyes of women there, many so filled with tears, fear of what may come. Talking to my daughter on the phone, who is a lesbian, hearing her voice crack with what may become.....(drawing of a broken heart)
I am learning that sometimes to be strong I must first learn what it means to be alone.
As usual, I made my walk from home toward a proposed future. Coffee. The person behind the counter the tears in thier eyes we nodded and said in unison "I know."
I was alone the day before and after the election was announced. In a trump supporting neighborhood for work and as a queer black woman I never felt more afraid.
Sometimes. I don't want to know. Everyday there is another tragedy. I feel like I am watching from far away on my throne of privilege as the line of fire approaches. I can't feel the pain of others everyday. Sometimes, numbness feels inevitable.
I called my mom for the first time because I was afraid and not the normal fear I felt as a visibly black, Muslim woman. it was a different kind of fear. And she was afraid too.
I was young enough, naive enough. I wanted to believe that good things could happen. I thought it must be inevitable - the world has to change for the better. I didn't know.
i knew since age 9 and tried to run towards myself thrice, against the dark over + over eventually worn hole giving light, it took 43 years.
Where is the line between self-care and engagement? My political engagement has gone down but is that allowed in this time?
I was having a great day at the beach. It was beautiful. I spent an hour walking & swimming across. making hobbits (rock towers). 5 men in that hour followed me saying disgusting things. I went back to my mom & spent the rest of the day hiding my body under a blanket under a tree under the protection of my mother's arms. It felt like I'd let them win.
(drawing of a cartoon heart)
Confusion. Escape. Misdirection. Fear. Unconsciousness. Frustration. Misunderstanding. Disbelief. Uncertainty. Doubt. Confidence. Belief. Thought. Courage. Encounter. LOVE. FREEDOM. (indecipherable signature)
I feel bad that I didn't know. I feel like there are so many in the black community who weren't surprised and I was. I feel ashamed admitted it.