A walk down Chapel St.

I hop on the tram after work. Two women sit in front of me, both blonde, late 30s, casual work attire. As I sit in front of them, a trans woman walks down the street, a Friday ritual that I often see her do. She’s wearing heels shorts and a tee. She struts like a catwalk model, walking way better in her heels then I ever could. I admire her. She doesn’t give two fucks about what anyone around her thinks. Chapel St. is her runway and she’s going to fucking shine.

As I watch her, the two women in front of me start to snigger. One mentions, “Is that a man? His boobs are falling down.” They both cackle. One women then launches into how she’s working in mental health and has written a brochure at work, a document so fantastic that her kids are raving about it.

I sit silent with the hypocrisy in front of me. How can you work in mental health and not have compassion for others? We judge each other, we pick on each others flaws, it’s human nature you might say. But just because the person can’t hear you say it doesn’t mean that your ignorance goes unheard. Your attitude stinks and it’s small comments like this that lead to the oppression of marginalised groups.

We all need to remember compassion, without it we are no longer human. Without it we’re just egotistical monsters who deserve to be wiped out.