I Am That Thing That Is So High, The Sky Is My Ground
March 2020, from the Trenches
Hello? Can anybody hear me? Is this thing on?
I have been AWOL for so long, I’m worried I’ve lost y’all! Actually, I gotta admit it’s been a rough couple of months here in the Trenches. Starting with an evil, week-long stomach virus that hit with the new year, I then got taken down by a sinobronchitis flare, then in February, Flu type B, and last Tuesday, another setback when I awoke in sudden, unprovoked pain — a severe worsening of my cervical spinal stenosis, according to the CT scan from the hospital ER — and have been unable to work since then. And then this Tuesday, my husband had to take our oldest to the ER — exactly one week after taking me — for what doctors thought was either food poisoning or an awful stomach bug like the one I had in January. He’s recovering from the massive dehydration, slowly but surely. He’s young :-)
Today marks the first time I’ve cracked open my laptop in 10 days, so that means I’m finally feeling a bit better, and I’m having a procedure on Friday to hopefully relieve the unrelenting nerve pain in my neck. So things are on the upswing. But certainly that’s enough about me. How are you?
I want to hear and share your stories — on any and everything. Your poetry, your personal narrative, your book reviews, your advice for young trans teens (and their parents!), your celebrations, losses, joys, and sorrows. All of it.
I’m thrilled at the number of new awesome writers we’ve gained representing even more voices from the trans community. Please join me in welcoming Allison Holt, Som Paris, Cassie Brighter, Naomi Kurz, Cassius Corbin, Emma Elizabeth Halliday, Michelle D., Jennifer Eash, Kathryn Foss, and Alessa Catterall! I look forward to hearing more from them all in the future.
In the meantime, please be sure to check out “How A Sci-Fi Convention Exposed A Truth I’d Hidden From Myself For Over Forty Years” by Allison Holt, and “A Scientist, Staring Down Death” by Kathryn Foss — both moving personal accounts of realizing, understanding, coming to terms with, and celebrating one’s gender identity, even when it’s still a work in progress and the destination is unknown.
If you’re a trans adult, a parent of a trans individual, or a cis person who’s an active trans advocate, and you have any kind of a story to tell on GftT, please check out our submission guidelines page (btw: I recommend all current writers re-read occasionally, as we may tweak or update things as necessary), and then reach out to me, Martie Sirois, at the email address listed on the submission guidelines page. You can also reach me here, on my website.
Instead of starting this newsletter with an excerpt from a poem as I usually do, this time, I’m ending with one. Being out of commission for the past 10 days has given me nothing but time to think and process. I’m not gonna lie; it sucked. I like to keep busy. My TV stayed off most of the time because my own physical pain was already making me depressed enough. With nothing but a barrage of terrible news — whether the latest on COVID19, the stock market tanking, or the daily sideshow shenanigans under the White House Big Top Circus — I’d rather have no news.
But the fact I can say that only reflects my privilege. My ability to look away, to actively and purposely ignore the news because it doesn’t affect me on a personal level is absolutely steeped in the intersectionality of privileges that I have in America. Like, being white, cisgender, heterosexual, and Christian (but not one of those Christians — I feel I need to qualify that now).
I’m not one to live in fear, but I do have wonder, what on earth is possibly holding this nation together anymore?
Even with the privilege of looking away, this moment in our world feels so frightening, so helpless. So chaotic and raw. What will happen with the 2020 election? Is anyone addressing the (ongoing) Russian election tampering and various disinformation campaigns? Or is that just another growing, spreading, uncontrolled (and vastly mismanaged) tragedy — one that could’ve been, at least, fought against by those in power? Will our democracy survive this dark era, or is it already too late?
Weren’t we founded on the notion of liberty, and the desire to create a society that would be so fair it would serve as a model, a moral compass, for all of humanity?
Of course, like everyone else, my fears go far deeper than just politics.
But these are some of the questions that crop up occasionally, and when they do, they trouble me deeply. And yet, everywhere I look, I see people milling about, working, playing, laughing, enjoying their specialty coffees, doing what they do every single day just like normal. As if none of this were happening. And it feels so surreal.
Not that folks shouldn’t be living their lives (after all, my own coping mechanism is laughter and I’ve often turned to humor as an escape… especially lately).
Though my mind will race with fear sometimes, overall, I’m not one to linger there for very long. I don’t live in fear. But I do have to wonder, what on earth is possibly holding this nation together anymore?
For answers to big questions like that, I turn to the real — often unknown — sages of society. And in this moment, I think no one is better suited to respond to all of it than black trans women.
So I’m leaving you with a short video featuring Lady Dane Figueroa Edidi, reading/performing some of her work. As a trans woman of color (Nigerian/Cuban/Indigenous/American), she’s not only an amazing poet and writer, but also, a performance artist, advocate, and educator, among other roles. Edidi is also a two-time Helen Hayes Award Nominee. In fact, she’s the first trans woman of color to be nominated for a Helen Hayes award.
This is just a small excerpt from her piece:
the cracks are showing
you hang a noose to silence
the truth
I rant, I rave
I will not lie beneath you
so that you can
cum on my dreams
and force me
to give birth to your own
I am a queen
I am that thing that is so high
the sky is my ground
Please take the six minutes to watch, listen, and absorb her chills-inducing message. Then, be inspired, and walk on the clouds like you f*cking own the sky.
(Click the link below for YouTube video of Edidi’s performance)
It is Our Duty to Spit, Episode 2: A Trans Woman Speaks…Of America
As always, I look forward to connecting with more of you, hearing your experiences, and welcoming new voices. And I’m ever grateful for your brave willingness to share your truths.
’Til next time: be well, and live authentically!
In Solidarity,
