Musings Regarding Self-Preservation and Survival of the Species

I was having an interesting discussion with my sister today.  She's in nursing, mostly long-term care facilities thus far.  Of note, when she mentioned her crack patients and wanting to tell them to 'switch to weed for a week because they're too damn skinny right now.'  My response was that it must be a matter of trying to find the most likely solution in a bad situation, and she said that's pretty much what nursing is.  This, among other things led to musing about a general lack of self-preservation in humans to which she said, 'in this world, is that really surprising?'

I have to admit, she's got a point.  When you think about it, a sense of self-preservation is an extension of a sense of survival of the species, something that, based on daily life experiences, is hardly something we as humans need to worry about.  I mean, look around!  We are horribly over-populated, we cover every corner of the globe where human life is even vaguely tenable, and it really doesn't look like we're going to stop any time soon.  It's impossible to feel that the species is on the verge of dying out when crammed over-capacity on a subway train, when walking shoulder to shoulder with strangers in the street, when waiting hours in line to get into a party or trying to find good seats at a movie theatre.  When faced with this in daily life, I think the average person can be forgiven for thinking that, as a species, we're pretty well on top and there's nothing really to worry about.  So what if I die young as a result of drugs/alcohol/pervasive chemicals/cellphone radiation/etc.?  There will always be someone else to take my place.  As far as humans go, plenty more where I came from.

Now the thing is, I have a certain difficulty seriously believing this to be a problem.  I'll admit that probably has more to do with my personal cynicism about most things, and very likely has something to do with the pervasive attitude I just described.  The gods know I don't have a very strong sense of self-preservation myself.  If it seems like more fun than playing it safe, chances are I'll go for it.  Hell, my dearest friendship is based on mutually assured destruction, and really, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Who's Your Doctor?

It might seem blasphemous to say this, especially so early in the season and so soon after David Tennant... but I think Matt Smith may be my Doctor.

I'll admit that I was a wee bit sceptical when I first saw the publicity shots of the new Doctor.  He was alright from certain angles, in the right light... but mostly he looked odd.  How could this guy compare to out beloved David Tennant?  Then I saw him move.

By that, I mean I saw a preview clip, not just just some still photos.  I was hooked.  There was something very real, very alive about this new Doctor.  And so, without even having seen a full episode, I must confess he stole my heart.  As I continue to watch the series, this feeling that he is The One, my Doctor, only grows.  There's something very immediate about his performance; I love the way that even he is surprised and delighted when one of his plans works out.

Of course, lets not forget the new companion, Amy.  I'm sorry Donna fans (you too, Sarah) but I think Amy is the strongest companion yet.  She's sharp, she's clever, and she can often figure things out for herself.  (The fact that I've always had a soft spot for redheads doesn't hurt...)

Identifying Identity

A while ago, I was at a pub with an acquaintance and we were talking about life, the universe and everything; our little corner of it anyway.  One of the things she said was, "when you decide to transition, it becomes everything that you are."  


At that time, I hadn't actively decided to transition.  I was still testing the waters so to speak, though now I'm sure I was past the point of no return already.  Now I look at her words form the perspective of having decided, and I can tell you that for me, she wasn't entirely right.


In a some ways, I was more trans before starting my transition.  I was obsessive about the concept, particularly about it in regards to me.  Every day was am I?  Aren't I?  Checking in the mirror to see if I could tell just by looking; which bits are masculine?  Which bits are feminine?  Every time I met someone new, what name was I supposed to use?  Sometimes I introduced myself using both names, and left it up to the other person to choose what to call me. In short, I could not stop thinking about being trans.


Around the same time I started my physical transition and sought out hormones, I also came to realize that the identities that meant more to me throughout more of my life had more to do with what I did than who I was.  Artist.  Performer.  Writer.  These were things about me that had no real bearing on my gender or my sex, and were things that were important to me before I ever even heard the term 'trans'.  Of course, being trans has and will always have a profound influence on these aspects of myself, how could it not?  But being trans is only a facet of who I am.  It is not the entirety of my identity.

Opinions and Consequences

This is just a short post to expand upon a thought that occured to me today: Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. They're also entitled to the consequences of voicing them.  


What prompted this was reading the comments here in which someone pointed out, very politly I might add, the author's transphobic/cis privilaged language.  While it's true that she used this language out of sheer ignorance, instead of apologizing and learning when being called on it, she got defensive and essentially refused to be held accountable.


This seems to me to be symptomatic of a pervasive attitude in our society, particularily on the internet.  Starting from the idea that everyone is entitled to their own opinions most people seem to go on to assume this means and therefore you can't tell me I'm wrong.  I however posit that not all opinions are well informed, and that there are consequences to voicing uninformed opinions.  The best thing any of us can do when being called on an uninformed or poorly thought out opinion is to learn, to take other points of view into account, and apologize when necessary.

Too Tired to Party, But Not Apparently Too Tired to Blog

So it's St. Pat's and instead of drinking the night away, I'm sitting in bed with my computer on my lap.

Part of the reason I started this blog was to address the hypersensitivity I've seen on so many other trans blogs and discussion groups.  I couldn't really understand why they were so ready to jump down people's throats any time someone uttered anything that could be even remotely construed as being offensive.  I could guess at the roots of this anger, but mostly I felt sorry for them that they'd gone through something bad enough to make them so bitter.  That wasn't going to happen to me, right?  After all, I'm stronger than that, and transitionning under better circumstances, right?  Well, as I get further along in my own transition, I'm beginning to realize that while they may still be somewhat hypersensitive, it's not without cause.

My first inkling that perhaps not all was right with my world was reading my letter of recommendation to
start hormone therapy.  While I could understand that much of it was lifted from the Standards of Care which is currently about 9 years out of date, I was still surprised and not a little irritated to find it riddled with 'she's and 'her's in reference to me.  I have a certain amount of patience for friends and family who might not understand, after all it takes time to educate.  But to have someone who works with trans people on a regular basis commit such blatant disrespect?  That I could not fathom.  If it got me what I needed, however, I could grin and bear it.  Irritated but undeterred, I shrugged it off.

What really drove it home for me though, was listenning to this same psychologist explain to my mom how trans man and women aren't real man and women; they're trans.  They are and will always be in between.  I sat there listenning to him talk about how he'd felt 'uncomfortable' at a house party full of trans men and how you could always tell that there was something 'off' about a trans person... It dawned on me then that he didn't take this, or me, seriously.  Worse, he was being transphobic.  Here was someone who was supposed to be on my side, and all the while it seems that he's just playing along and humouring this poor, gender-confused little girl.  Because over the course of the session, he as good as said 'I don't see you as male.'

Between this and other social opposition I've encountered, it's becoming more and more clear to me that in the eyes of most of the rest of the world, I'm either a fraud, or else not a person.  And coming from the privilaged possition of being white and middle-class, I'll admit it's more of a shock than I expected.

The Star Trek Analogy

Ask pretty much anyone who knows me and they will tell you I am a geek.  I'm all about Sci-Fi/Fantasy novels, comics, Dungeons & Dragons and of course, Star Trek. 

Ever since I was a little kid, I've loved Star Trek, Next Generation especially, though I was only ever managed to watch it once in a while when I could catch it on TV, and never in any particular order.  What I can remember of my childhood impression of the show is this: Data was my hero, Jordie and Warf were also pretty cool, and I really did not like that doctor-who-wasn't-Beverly-Crusher.  Until I began to watch all the episodes in order, I couldn't say why, only that there was something about her that rubbed me the wrong way.

As I reached Season 2 of my viewing campaign, I came to realize that my dislike of Dr. Pulaski had less to do with her not being Dr. Crusher, and more to do with her attitude towards Data.  While the rest of the crew at least made a consistant effort to treat Data like a person, she just couldn't seem to get past the fact that he was an android, and continued to see him as a machine, no more worthy of regard than any piece of equipment.  That diregard rankled, not only because Data was my favourite, but because the attitude of people like her can be a real threat to people like me.  I might not have been conscious of this as a kid, but part of me understood.  Part of me was afraid, and so I hated her.

What it comes down to is this: Data, the android who would be human, is analogous to any minority group who has had to fight to be seen as even human.  In my case, Data's experience parallels my own as a trans man.  I see my own struggle for personhood in his character.  In Dr. Pulaski, I saw all those who would disregard my experience as real, all those who would continue to judge from a position of priviledge.

Still... watching now, I can't completely condemn her character.  She has made sacrifices worthy of respect, and though stubborn she seems willing to at least try to learn.  Whatever the case, I'll keep an eye on her as I watch, secure in the knowledge that for better or worse, we do get Beverly back eventually.

A Question of Charity

Something interesting happened today.  A boy came to my door, essentially selling newspapers as part of a programme that would help him pay for university.  After a little thought I agreed that for ten dollars, this was something I could feel good about supporting.

It got me to wondering.  Why this cause?  Why should I be more willing to help one kid go to school while I find the idea of disaster and poverty relief charities questionable?  I tried once to work as a canvaser for a public outreach service, but quickly left because I could not bring myself to promote an organization that I did not support 110%.  Opting to promote the branch I found least objectionable didn't help.  It simply went against my values.

When I think about it, I believe my attitude comes down to my ideas about the role of more developed countries when dealing with less developed ones.  It may be cynical of me, but I see a trend wherein anytime a more 'advaced' society gets involved with a more 'primitive' one, regardless of the intentions someone, usually the conquered/colonized/aided population ends up worse off than when they started.  Although I've seen methods that seem more sound to me, for example providing the building blocks for sustainable resources rather than handing over finished products, I'm still not totally convinced that it will pan out.

There is also the question of whether it's right for one people to impose their values on other peoples.  Who gets to decide who's morality is better?  Every society has abhorent as well as redeeming qualities in different proportions, and what is abhorent to you may be natural to me, and vice versa.  Is help even wanted?  Most of the time with large, overseas causes, I don't know if they want our help, or if 'help' is being imposed upon them. 

This brings me back to the boy at my door.  He was out doing this work on his own behalf.  The programme was there to help him help himself, and from the looks of things he was willing to make the most of the opportunity.  As a college student myself, I recognize that you get out of it what you put into it.  If this kid is willing to work to get there, then it seems to me that he'll put the same kind of effort into the post secondary experience.