To the Male Gays / ze

•     Looking for slim to slender, swimmer’s built or ATHLETIC STR8 acting guy
•      Normal, masculine guy here
•      XXX, muscular kinky here. Prefer muscular, masculine and athletic non smoker
•      any normal and masculine guys out there? Looking for some safe fun here
•      No fats No fems …just XXX XXX that keep it private…XXX dude here
•      into other masc bros only
•      Verbal aggressive masc XXX (XXX / XXX) looking for service from XXX XXX boys who know their place. XXX should be novice to experienced, clean, masc and discreet. SIR is not into BS
•      Only looking to talk to masc dudes only

Adam4Adam profiles.
(Yes, Adam4Adam still exists, for all you who think grindr took over the internet hook up scene.)
That was through page 2; I took any profile that mentioned gender
This poem is to the male gaze(ys). Both kinds.
What does it mean to be masculine?
XXXX XXXX XXXX
what makes you a man?
Us gays, we’ve been called unmen ever since men started owning women as a means to manhood
And we love men
We know more about them than most straight men do
We’ve been called sissy, pussy, faggot, weak, gay, as the worst you could be called
We learned early that these names meant we failed to do man just right
In the end, a lot of men don’t care what XXX XXX XXX as long as it comes from a man
When you’re a man you’re always cool, never scared
I mean sometimes you can say you’re scared, as long as it’s clear that you’re not really scared, or as long as it’s clear that you’re making fun of yourself for your fear
Most importantly, you’re never afraid to prove yourself
Always sure of yourself, never uncertain
If you don’t know, state certainly that you don’t know
Unless it’s a dumb thing not to know, like how to shave or how to wear a tire,
then it’s better to say nothing or lie
But no one can know you lied, because you’re always honest
Always XXX, never XXX
Always winning, never won
Always chill
Synonyms: collected.
Unruffled.
Calm.

Different kinds of chill are ok.
It’s OK to be angry, if someone is threatening your control of the situation ie not doing what you told them, chill angry is definitely OK.
If that someone is ridiculous, angry angry is OK but you Must remain In Control at all times.
Chill sad is definitely OK, like when someone dies or you’re heartbroken, although the sad part of chill heartbreak should only last until your bros get you drunk
Stressed chill is OK, when you’re under lots of pressure and you have to do it right, zero in on your target activity, prove you’re the best, ignore any distractions and calmly badass your champion way through

Always firm in conviction
Always standing on your own two feet, never leaning
Always resolute, never indecisive
Always strong, muscular, able to lift, hold, throw, push, whatever needs to be moved, never weak and failing
Always focused, never distracted
Always holding your liquor. Effortlessly.
Always firm, never soft
Always XXX when you should be, never XXX
Always grunting, not moaning, or sighing, groaning, or squealing. Grunting.
Always initiating, or responding ready
Because men are always ready
Men are always becoming men
Always watching other men
women
evaluating
judging

If this is tiring
If silencing our fear, holding insecurities an arm of denial away
If our manhood is a, burden, shall I say
Better not to let that show
If we want to feel, want company in our feelings, want someone to be with us in them
Better make it clear we’re not feminine
Not girly, femmey, faggy
Better it’s obvious femininity isn’t desirable
laugh at your female friend for being ‘such a slut’
grab her ass on the dance floor, I mean, you’re gay
Make it obvious femininity isn’t something you want, it’s something you control
This burden of manhood’s a lot easier when you’re laughing at someone
Or just, a little better than someone

That old man needs a haircut even more than he needs a new pair of pants,
which, in that outfit, is quite an accomplishment
That princess in his widebrimmed hat with a collared shirt, bowtie, and hoodie?
some people just try too hard
Masculinity’s a ladder
Someone has to be on top
and you know, most of us aren’t trying for that
long as we’re somewhere further up than down
Some of us started from the bottom, now we’re here
Even Drake wasn’t born with a XXX and breasts grown at 13
[XXX, by the way, is the only word encapsulating all aspects of female genitalia;
I use it honorifically]
Some of us know the intimacies of manliness like we know the roofs of our mouths
If others didn’t see it they just weren’t looking in the right way
It’s amazing what I learned from watching as a shut out
What came naturally to me when I said hello to my body for the first time.
Easier to confidently decide shit and have other men validate my masculinity
Than to hesitate in thought, vulnerably
It was easier to hate my breasts
Easier to objectify people with breasts,
than talk about my feelings with other men

You know I realized, writing this piece,
that I know a lot about masculinity — we all do
I don’t actually know as much about gay masculinity
It’s a world I’ve been a guest in for a long time — I might always be a guest
I know how to be the cutie
XXXX XXXX XXXX
XXXX XXXX XXXX
I know how to be so comfortable in my body — so shameless and assured —
that you can be uncomfortable, not sure,
and that can be a secret neither of us acknowledge

XXXX XXXX XXXX
XXXX XXXX XXXX
I wish I could find more men who are as thrilled to be in their body,
as I always need to be in mine next to theirs

Speaking of bodies
Can we talk about those?
Quote, from the internet: “When I wake up next to my boyfriend I feel like ursula, he looks like, Vin Diesel.”

When I finally realized I’m trans, I couldn’t look in the mirror without shuddering.
Everything I saw was fat
I’m a skinny kid — then I was 120 pounds maybe
but my thighs were so pillowy
my face had so much
my chest was all flabby
I was all too much of the wrong thing
and I lacked
Everywhere, I was so short of…man
I couldn’t flex fat
I needed the space provided, the authority granted, the recognition that muscle would give me
I wanted the eyes trailing me across the room,
the eyebrows, smile, and nod
the appreciation of a real man.

As I was becoming a gay boy I found a whole bunch of other boys
who saw something similar when they looked in the mirror
we all had an ideal we were lifting, running, skipping desserts toward.
We weren’t trying to become calvin klein underwear models
(maybe)
but we wouldn’t mind if “hey stud, your body’s on point, how often do you work out? I could bounce a quarter off your ass,”
rolled off the stranger’s tongue as he bought our drink.

When I went on testosterone and my voice bestowed manhood
I was bestowed humanness
It became easier to accept the ways I’m not quite
I mean, I had to do a lot of push-ups and pull-ups,
I worked out, I worked to make this body
I still work
Health is important
But now I’m working to stay in shape, not really working to make a man
most of the time
or at least it’s a nice by-product

I know a lot of men who say they’re just working out
but sometimes, mostly they’re working to make themselves men
and that can become a need that’s never met;
or rather it feels like it’s met today on Monday,
and by Wednesday, it needs to be met again, and Friday, again
and the need can become an impulse the runs a man

We have beautiful minds and souls, they belong in beautiful bodies that will carry us long
But thinner, stronger, faster, fitter
So many of us are running hamster wheels
Toward that perfect body
14 – 42% of men with eating disorders are gay or bi
Ten times more gay men than straight men have symptoms of disordered eating
Thin doesn’t mean healthy
Fat doesn’t mean unhealthy

Beauty and size only relate in the way you occupy your body
As in, the proportion of you that believes you’re beautiful is the size of your beauty
There are ways we demonstrate that belief we’re not even aware of
our body is beautiful when we’re beautiful

No fats? No femmes? Masculine dudes only?

Don’t we have enough straight people telling us we’re not really men?

We telling each other that, cuz if we push someone down on this ladder of masculinity,
it makes us a rung higher?
Makes our bodies a rung sexier?

I think I was misogynist, as most men, because
We’re jealous
When did you last hear a woman being told to “woman up”?
They’re not climbing this ladder
We hate on femmes because we hate the way we’re treated when we don’t do man enough
Trans guys, we hate on womanly things because we hate how we’re treated
when we’re seen as women,
I get that
but you know it’s easy to love being treated like a man
when that means being treated like a person
All of us men hate how we’re treated when we’re not manly
So we run hamster wheels to become perfect men
What if we got off the wheel and kept running?

Out of this cage – what is this cage? –
we’d find a whole bunch of women running down misogyny
it’s a forest fire,
we’ve been throwing gasoline on it –
been playing the same game as every man who ever called us a fag
There’s a whole bunch of women wielding fire hoses
There are whole bunch of hoses just lying around waiting for us to grab them

XXXX XXXX XXXX
XXXX XXXX XXXX
XXXX XXXX XXXX

So I grew up Christian
When I went off to college I was excited because I figured I’d probably meet my future husband there
I didn’t actually picture myself, no idea what I was wearing,
He was all balled out for the wedding, tux and all that, tall and smiling, arms spread, and when he kissed me
Well, I was in a blizzard, screaming wind, whitewash of snow,
ice from everywhere at my face, so much ice at my face,
and as he pulled me, there was a cabin,
all logs and solid, smoke out the chimney,
and he caught my eyes and the door opened, – was it real? –
his lips – yes, inside, so quiet,
his tongue – safe,
and the fire, the heat
I knew exactly what it would feel like, this kiss
This haven in all the unknown
This house would be here
Log homes last forever
Those lips would always
Reach for me
The heat would always
Laugh away the snow

I’d been taught that was the marriage kiss
Only marriage
Taught that other kisses would come along, playing to be the log home
And they’d be Lincoln logs, just teaching you, feeling sturdy but always falling apart
And when you found the person who built a real log home for you
Your kiss at the altar, and the dance floor, and especially your marriage bed,
That was when they brought you in
Into safety
You’ll never have to prove yourself again
Who you are is validated,
celebrated
appreciated
they’re grateful for the things you do, for who are you, you matter
you’re always hot.
Burning hot
Fucking beautiful
So I get it
I get why people want that
Back then I didn’t know that any log home built like that is coated in gasoline
 

What if your log home only has room for two of you,
And one day you come home,
And find someone else in your bed?
Over half of this country’s log homes burn down.
But there’s something so appealing about living in a wooden house
That’s coated in gasoline.
It feels so James Bond, right?
You’re never happier that he’s alive
Than after he’s back-flipped, jumped a couple rooftops, slipped between three dozen bullets
That marriage kiss makes you a champion because
Everything says your logs should be roaring red and they’re not,
And they’ll never be, and you’re lucky as hell,
Because you found the ONE person in the WORLD
Who won’t ever strike a match
It feels AMAZING!
And gay people deserve this too, right?

 

This is some bullshit!
I don’t want a relationship that’s meaningful because of what hasn’t happened
I know lots of married people who say
they’ve got friends who are amazing scarves, hats, mittens –
They’ve got buddies in snow caves who make a mean hot chocolate
I’m from Minnesota, I love winter
Hats and scarves make all the difference
But I’m really not seeing why we don’t just build log homes we can all fit in
Skip the gasoline
I want a home that’s made of life lovers, friends, co-parents, family,
all kinds of life partners
What would that home look like? How do we build that?

Quote, straight ally: “I have the privilege to marry, and gay people deserve access to marriage too.”
Why? What does marriage give us that we can’t otherwise get?
Hey allies
You know how to give us all power?
Give yours up
Stop getting married
Get rid of the institutionalized, government-sanctioned power of marriage
I’m not talking civil unions
I’m talking about wiping the slate clean and dealing with all this shit piece-by-piece
Kids, hospitals, insurance, assets
There’s already most of the legal groundwork
Every one of us has the potential to be in a variety of legally bound relationships with other people
Allies, gays, everyone who believes that all people deserve access to the legal benefits of marriage
We need to engender a cultural shift away from questions like “are you married” to questions about your relevant specific legal relationships. Let me explain:

1.) Children. Every child needs a family,
Cousins and uncles and aunts,
There are all kinds of parents
All kinds of lifetime responsibilities to care for a person
If the state’s asking,
legal guardians have certain kinds of responsibilities till the kid turns 18

2.) Hospitals. Health care directives are legal documents stipulating loved ones who can see you in the hospital and decide what to do if you’re unconscious
The first question in the hospital to someone inquiring after an unconscious loved one should be, do you know how where their health care directive is?
Are you in it?
This directive can include any important information about your body and who can make decisions regarding your health,
Maybe there are some members of your biological family you’d like denied this access,
Maybe there are life partners who you want doctors to report to
Maybe you need emergency room doctors to know things about your body like past surgeries, medications, hormones, allergies
To do a health care directive you just write it all up, go to the notary with your loved ones and sign it. Health care providers are legally required to follow it.

3.) Money. There are a variety of financial partnerships for life already set up:
shared assets; beneficiaries to bank accounts; living wills
Taxes? You can own a house with whomever and the tax break is split
Government benefits?
We need a little work on social security, veteran and military benefits.
We need a whole conversation about immigration, citizenship, and partners –
We’ve needed that conversation for a long time.

4.) Health insurance. We need some lobbying on this one although lots of companies are already there – health insurance through your employer or medicaid should be shareable with partners of your choosing and all children under your guardianship.

5.) Legal rights. Power of attorney. You can give any partner any list of rights to sign for your shit – for some of your shit, for all of your shit, for just certain shit.

Allies, gays, queers,
do we think every person deserves the family and life partners of their choosing?
Do we think these relationships should be legally recognized when it might make a difference for life and health?
Abolish the legal ramifications of marriage.
We’ll all be better for thinking about these legally bound relationships piece by piece.

Email me at krisgebhardpoetry@gmail.com if you’d like to see a video for a 30 minute show Katie Burgess and I did at Pleasure Rebel, January 2014. This show is a teaser for the longer show Katie Burgess, CeCe McDonald, and I are writing. We compare our trans experiences as a platform for interrogating misogyny. We are asking, what could our queer community bring us and make us as trans people? We envision a world in which dysphoria is not a cornerstone of trans identity / existence, but a puberty we all go through. We envision a world in which all trans people can grow to be comfortable, alive, and thrilled in our bodies. Our show asks, how can we make that world?

Stay tuned!

Nate’s and my show was a wonderful experience.

Here’s the video. Watch part 1 and then part 2!
https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0B1xCGlS6rzLmUndtZmhQWnpjNk0&usp=sharing

I posted the poems I didn’t have up here yet.

Here’s the order of our show:
Help Me Believe I’m Human
How Many Lovers?
When I realize that my bike accident broke your heart for 6 months
Claim this Chaos
From High Femme: How to Unconquer
Family in Chaos

(All non-Kris characters in bold are played by Nate)

My first memory of 2013 is a hospital bathroom.
I figured out it was a hospital because I said “I have to go to the bathroom” and two nurses carried me three feet from my bed to the toilet.
They held me standing up because I said I had to pee.
I pulled down my pants to sit down,
“oooh. Wow.”
I didn’t know why I couldn’t feel or move my entire right leg,
so I decided silence was my best option.

That night I dreamed that I was crashing for the night at a new friend’s house, and her roommates had a secret plan to set the house on fire for insurance money.
They opened bottles of carbon monoxide to put everyone in the house to sleep
I heard them scheming so I ran to my new friend’s room to alert her,
but she was in with them, and I was part of the plan,
she threw me back in the bed
and zipped up a giant net cage around the bed so I couldn’t escape

The next day I woke up inside the cage
My dream’s new friend looked just like the nursing assistant sitting next to my bed
I couldn’t feel or move my right leg
and then I realized that my front tooth was missing!
Later, when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror, my front tooth was missing!
The next day I was trying to tell Nate about another dream I had, and
my front tooth is missing!
Kris, do you remember you called me at 5am this morning?
What? I did?
Telling me to come pick you up from the co-op because you didn’t have your wallet.
Woooah. I remember that. I was so mad at you. I was like “you’re my brother, you have to be there for me and I got $41 worth of chicken cut up and now I can’t pay for it!” I guess it was a dream. Can we go back to my room now? I’m tired.
Kris, this is your room.
No, the bathroom is over there.
Anyways, I knew they’re moving me, because three days ago I was in a totally different room from yesterday’s
Nah, you’ve been in this room for two weeks now.

I didn’t know yet, December 2012 had been my apocalypse!
I’m two blocks from my house, in the bike lane crossing a cross-street,
car guns through a left hand turn.
I put a good crack in the windshield but the concrete left a bigger mark on me
Helmet saved my life
Didn’t stop my brain from flying around
Oxy-codone kills your memories,
so my Intensive Care Unit experience is in stories told by my angels

I had to have surgery to get a tube inserted into my stomach
so they could pump my food straight in.
“Jess Jess Jess Jess.” I could barely talk out of my trach.
ck ck. (point at crotch)
Are you trying to say dick?
(nod)
Am I… Am I…
Are you trying to ask if you’re a boy or a girl?
(nod)
OK well. It’s a little more complicated than that. You started out a girl, but then you kind of switched to boy, and for the last years you’ve been pretty much just trans.
…Does that sounds right?
(huge smile and sigh)

According to my ICU file, I was a post-operative transsexual woman.
Thank god my vagina doesn’t need dilating,
cuz you know those doctors didn’t google what to do with a trans woman’s vagina.

I could feel their ignorance, even in my semi-conscious, drugged up state.
Sometimes my critiques were misplaced, or maybe just foreshadowing
The nurses ditched the bedpan for a portable toilet they’d lift me up and set me on.
“You’re so transphobic!! You’re only making me pee like this cuz I’m trans!
The transphobia in this hospital!!!”

Weeks later, in brain injury rehab,
I had the ecstatic realization
that if I could learn to walk heel toe, heel toe,
I’d be able to walk in heels again
[Nate laughs]
since my brain injury cut off my brain’s connection to my right leg and foot,
picturing my toddler self in heels made me laugh too
but my therapist wasn’t laughing at my wobbling
the doctor said your brain injury makes you more sensitive, to everything
–true —
I think having no human rights makes you seem more sensitive too
my bed alarm would siren if I put one foot on the floor
if a certified nursing assistant was scheduled to shower me at 5 in the morning,
she dragged my ass out of bed into the lukewarm water
When I was pissed at her, she couldn’t tell me that she wouldn’t treat a human like that, but refusing would get her fired
Doctor said I would not be released from rehab unless I accepted all the meds he prescribed
I was the one supposed to be healing,
But with little agency in that process,
I needed a reason I was treated like a non-human
The nurse running away from my vagina
when she was supposed to be holding me up at the sink
provided a logic of something to blame
I didn’t think I was being oversensitive to call that transphobia
doc said I’ll certainly talk to the head nurse about that,
I think I took you off prozac too early
blaming transphobia for my lack of human rights was a drop in the bucket
nurse discomfort with my strange body was one example of many
of a system that makes people inhuman when it saves money
for my last two weeks in rehab, I couldn’t fall asleep without being doped up
night was when the people who made me human were gone
night was when Nate or Anise or Rose or Mom were replaced by some nurse
pumping all kinds of meds into my stomach I had no knowledge of or choice about

At least the hospital taught me how to walk again
how to chew and swallow, how to get into a car
But months later,
no number of delectable dinners and cross-town bike rides can purge me
of this convulsion my body held for two months

I tried to figure out why no amount of good the hospital did
could make up for the inhuman actions the hospital system breeds
You know, I’ve felt lucky since the first day I thought about my white skin
and parents with jobs
and Christianity
and ability to walk around in a world that was constructed for people with my body and brain.
In the hospital, I felt luck coursing through my body
because I’ve never had this experience before.
Society de-validates people’s humanness constantly,
but I’m rarely one of the victims

Sure, privilege is having your humanness legitimated more often than not.
So privilege is lack
Lack of the need to make new ways to validate each other’s humanity
so we’re more stunning than we ever knew we could be
Lack of the necessity to make friends
who will always make you believe you’re a real, deserving human,
Lack of the need to make family
who will protect us and guide us
whether or not we understand where or what from

I realized that privilege persists because of all these lacks
White people need racism because we don’t know how else to be
White culture doesn’t teach us how to build friendships
that knock down all our walls, laugh at our insecurities, require that we’re stunning
When we’re lonely, if we’re in an “in” crowd of people, it feels ok
It’s easier to believe we’re deserving humans
when we see other kinds of people just doing some things wrong —
if they made some changes, they’d deserve as much as us
It’s easier to feel protected and guided if we only need to be protected from ourselves

Obviously lots of us gays have all these lacks too
lots of us white gays especially
when tons of us fought for marriage as if some legal contract will make us lack less
I realized our biggest lack is family

I didn’t know I had family besides my biological
Until Anise sat with me in the rehab hospital for hours, every day, for two months
Until Jess spent every night for 6 weeks sleeping in a chair next to me so they could be my advocate to help decide what drugs were pumped into me
Until Nate, 5 years younger, became my older brother for 10 months
Until Eric moved out of our apartment in Philly half a year early so we could move to Minneapolis together
Until Elizabeth helped me clip my pubes
Until Adrienne cooked me 6 meals a day
and listened to me babble for hours relentlessly.

We all deserve this.
We all deserve to know that if we get run over by a car, it’ll be ok
if we get made unhuman,

in the hospital,
or by the cops,
or in prison,
or by deportortation,
we all deserve to have people with us who believe we’re human,
whether or not we can believe it ourselves
Figure this out with me.
Figure out how queer family can make us stunning.

Every man I see is wearing pleated pants
from the ‘80s with the pleat going down the middle of each leg, ridiculously baggy in the crotch, no ass imaginable
Every straight couple I see is in the middle of a fight, the boy lackadaisically kissing the girl as she shouts and pushes him away
Every squirrel is a snapping turtle with a mouth big enough to take my entire foot off,
maybe the right one if I’m lucky, that’s barely worked for five months anyway
Every thud is the sound of slamming breaks
and my body sliding off the hood to the concrete
Every siren is the hospital bed alarm
Every knock on my head is a hoof to the face
I’m standing next to a person who is violently angry but doesn’t know it,
and a stallion is galloping towards us, assuming the anger is at him,
and he’s not in the mood for this kind of predator
Brain injury brings the kind of lonely that is the common impetus for babies’ crying
For months I didn’t know what I needed, but you were easiest to imagine
You breast-fed me before I had the feeling of hunger
You cheered for my first steps before I knew what walking was
I didn’t know your heart was like my drum set sinking into a lake
I didn’t know you’d long stopped thinking about drying and playing it
When we need it the most, hope is not something we can feel
It is simply the ability to suppress terror
Now that I can go for a jog, blaming our terror on the man who hit me doesn’t repress it
We build drum sets after drum sets that twang like country westerns
Men in pleated pants clap, snapping turtles eat cymbals
We’re cursed by dreams of scuba gear
If you couldn’t see the lake, I know it’d be easier
I’m just so damn cute, despite my brain injured fashion sense
If we were broken up like my broken brain,
making new neural connections could only be lonely for so long
We’d dig hope out of simple distractions and become smaller, easier individuals

Instead we thrash

That nine percent of me that’s missing is a jellyfish
We don’t know where it’ll sting from but it always stings

(May 21, 2013)

Axons: neural processes that allow one neuron to communicate with another.
Diffuse axonal injury: the brain is shaken rapidly, causing the axons to slide all over each other, stretching and getting damaged.
Recovery from diffuse axonal injury: new neural connections are made.

When I told my college roommate I had just realized last week that I’m attracted to women, she said, “Well that explains why you walk like a guy now. You seem like you’re in your body now. You used to hover around it.”
I don’t remember the hovering,
but I remember feeling like my feet understood their step for the first time.
When I got to my new home in February 2013, my brain hovered terrified.
Maybe our brains are like downtown Minneapolis in the winter –
hundreds of office buildings,
connected by hundreds of skyways,
filled with business suits hurrying from building to building to do their work
some of them are managers, taking in all the reports from nerves and determining what actions should be taken,
some of them are philosophers, some of them are janitors,
tons of them are recorders, writers, journalists.
They write and write all the things that happen so it won’t be forgotten.

Before I knew I was trans, I did a lot of cool things.
I was really smart, especially considering that my downtown Minneapolis was constructed on a city body that was perpetually on fire.
I know what I looked like because of the pictures,
I know what my voice sounded like from some poetry recordings.
But when a high school friend says “remember when we lit that crepe on fire in French class?” the hand I remember flicking the lighter belongs to this body.
When my friend says “remember when you said you didn’t want to go to the homecoming dance because no worthwhile boy asked you?”
I imagine that’s possible. But I never remember.
My journalists had been busy taming the fire that erupted anytime I imagined dancing.
in a dress made to show off my tits,
or in shoes I couldn’t run in,
or in the clammy hand of some awkward boy who couldn’t get a date with one of those straight girls who were actually straight

What would happen if downtown Minneapolis got hit by a tornado that knocked out a bunch of the skyways?
Months after the tornado, I told Jess I remembered them walking out of the room on me talking over and over again.
I remembered Jess telling me to stop talking about the hospital a few times a day.
I didn’t know why, because I’d always only been talking for like 5 minutes.
My journalists were busy building new skyways while I was talking.
I usually talked for 20 minutes minimum, often 2 or 3 hours.
Telling the same story over and over and over.
I’m lucky I don’t remember, I’m sorry that Jess does!

When I realized I was trans it was after looking at myself naked in the mirror
for the first time in my life.
I’d seen myself naked after showering, sure,
but never actually looked at my body to see what all was there
Suddenly I saw this shadow who’d been following me around my whole life, beckoning
“hey faggot, you gonna find yourself in your body some day? Hey faggot, come home.”
I didn’t know exactly how to come home but I knew what felt good
So I figured out all kinds of stuff that no one taught me
The right place to sag each pair of pants
The right way to say hello to strangers so they’d think I was such a nice boy
The right way to indignantly laugh when a stranger she’d me
so they’d apologize for their mistake
Coping mechanisms so I was reminded of the strangeness of my body less
When I went on testosterone I didn’t think my new ridiculous sex drive and absurd appetite
were what was making that shadow materialize,
But somehow, it became flesh and blood
My body.

When I realized I was really brain injured it was after typing an email that read xkksssssw.
After my move to Minneapolis this February, I figured out lots of stuff no one taught me
The right snacks to eat because when hungry, I would fall over
The right “remember” routines to go through so I wouldn’t lose my keys or my jacket or my wallet
The right recordings of myself playing marimba to listen to, so my intimate anticipations of the next notes would be comfortingly correct
Coping mechanisms so I was reminded less of how lonely it felt to miss myself
When I realized my brain injury had affected my ability to feel,
it was after I’d been lying paralyzed in my bed for hours,
unable to think a conscious thought because a volcano of emotions was barreling through me.
I rejected image after image as incomplete descriptions of what I was feeling –
my house being bombed,
me and all my friends falling into giant holes in the ground
Until I pictured an earth, floating in space
A giant set of sheers plunged into to it, and opening, split the earth apart
I watched this happen over and over again
My first thought in hours: “the earth is me.”
When I awoke the next day, I experienced joy for the first time in 7 months
Apparently I had been unable to multi-task emotions,
or have complex feelings like joy
I was aware for the first time of a shadow who’d been following me constantly,
“hey Kris, I know there’s a lot of you here, but you’re still missing something.
Come on, come home”
That morning this shadow was embodied.
My body.

So, why am I comparing being trans to being brain injured?
I guess cuz, I bet I’m here talking to you right now cuz I’m trans.
In other words, I healed way faster than all the doctors thought I would,
cuz trans people are better at everything

We gotta be champions at loving ourselves, even when something is missing
Even when we can’t picture what we’ll be when we’re ALL THERE,
We gotta trust ourselves
We claim our chaos,
When our skin feels like someone else’s wrinkled cotton sheets
When razors ride rigid and we’re sick of shaving every day
When binders sweat and squeeze us
We claim flabby, flopping tits,
We claim hairy faces, hairy inner thighs, and hairy asses,
nose hairs, leg hairs, and armpit hairs
When every hallway blessed by our lover’s hands is decked with flashing exit signs,
We claim flaccid dicks
We claim silicone, leather, and lube
Honey, we claim lots of lube,
When we laugh and they don’t get it
We claim smiles, winks, and teeth
When pitch is the sole determinant of a Maam or a Sir,
We claim booming, and raspy, chirpy, and squeaky, squealing, and thunderous, excited, and filled-with-passion, and filled-with-courage, and
bathrooms, we claim every fucking stall, urinal, and toilet,
We claim ecology of bodies, it takes yours to give mine meaning,
(so baby make me look good),
When we don’t know if they’re afraid to sleep with us
or if we’re afraid to sleep with us,
When it’s easier to undress others than to dress ourselves
We claim the challenge, because we’ll never know how many people we free just by putting on our favorite fancy pants, and skirts, and scarves, and metal through skin, and glitter, and ink
and femme, boi, butch, dyke, fag, queen, queer, king, pansy, pussy, bottom, daddy, bear, twink, flaming, and fabulous
We claim it all at once
We claim pleasure,
and the 2,735 places on our bodies that are pleasurable to touch, tantalize, torture, and tease
we claim ears, and shoulders, and armpits, and eyelashes, and the insides of knees,
and big toes and little toes, and calves, and hips, and tongues, and lips, and nipples, and fingers and wrist and hands, and teeth, and tongues, and hands, and lips, and tongues, and hands.
We claim gorgeous, handsome, charming, adorable, damn fucking sexy.
We claim pronouns, we claim all the pronouns, or none of the pronouns,
we refuse to claim and make them deal with their confusion,
When it feels like no one will claim us,
we claim each other,
for siblings, for lovers, for children, for parents,
we claim family
when our family has to listen to us babble on and on for hours
when our family has to argue with nurses and yell at us to stop unplugging our breathing tubes
when our family is only still there because they hope
we claim beauty
we claim beauty only found because we know, no matter how much of ourselves we miss
our family misses it too
and they claim us
they claim our chaos
they claim every beauty we are
and every beauty we will become

Maybe it’s cuz I’m trans that
I’m really good at making meaning out of things that used to mean biology
Family’s a – *gasp, or *schooo, or *eyebrows raised head nod, or *shudder – for a lot of us
Maybe family’s that place where you feel so familiar and so alone
Or maybe it’s that place where you’ve practiced for years to construct your engagement
Just Right
Maybe it’s a place you never go,
for good reasons, or bad reasons,
or cuz they’re fucked up reasons
maybe family’s where you were first treated like a human
or where you were first dehumanized
Maybe some of your family is with you for life,
And some of them are out there, wherever
Maybe you feel like you don’t have a lot of choice about this family business
Maybe you already made your choices

I think we can find more choices
or that sometimes the best things choose us
I tried to find all kinds of words besides gender
when I saw myself naked in the mirror the first time,
and didn’t know what was going one with me and my body
Eventually I figured out I didn’t have to be a woman or a man, I could be trans
Queer
I tried to find all kinds of words besides family
when I realized how much we’re missing that could be making us better
Community, friends, besties, BFFs
But something just feels good
when I think that all the things I’m about to say
mean
family

Unconditional
in relating, engaging, loving
trust so full we’re not scared to make ourselves uncomfortable
honesty that’s refreshing and sometimes brutal
Continuity, forever

Family rides the bus with you
Sitting a few seats back from you to yell at creepin men,
or so you know you’re not alone
so you can try telling him to shut up without being scared he’ll follow you off the bus
Or 6 people in drag get on and off at different stops so when you get on
you think you didn’t dress well enough for this bus
Family curses out your boss when he’s misog,
Or shows up with 10 people to curse him out when you quit cuz he’s a transmisogynist
Or hangs out outside on the curb, quietly telling every customer who goes in that the manager has a foot fetish so he makes everybody knead the dough with their feet
We ask what your dream life would be,
we ask as a demand that you keep dreaming,
that you keep demanding we make it real
We expand your potential
We require that you’re funny as hell
Because for all the shit we do for you, we deserve a good laugh
We are always there in court with you
We always give the cops shit for you
And if you’re misogynistically charged and the district attorney doesn’t drop the charges,
he loses his next election and whoever takes his place knows it was us.
When you’re in the hospital we spend every night with you;
if you can’t advocate for yourself, it’s covered
When your doctor is trying to put you on antidepressants
cuz that’s what he does with all the trans people he sees,
we fight for your hormones,
or we’re so proud of you that you don’t believe you need antidepressants either.
When you’re writing your dissertation and you just need someone to talk to,
We read a bunch of your books so we’ve got the knowledge to have a helpful conversation
We take self-defense classes together,
because none of us deserve to be scared of some tripped up insecure dude,
We find places to live
so that all of us who need family on the daily have it
family that will claim our chaos whether or not we’ve figured out how to claim it ourselves
family that helps us create chaos
Thanks to family our hair is always cut better than we could have imagined it,
Our make-up is always done when we want it,
whether we’re pro’s with eye-liner or learning to be
We’re always the best dressed
cuz family doesn’t let us leave the house unless we’re perfect
our ears are pierced however we want,
our tattoos are gorgeous whether we can pay for them or not
Our bodies are held

We get that job we need because our resumes and cover letters are edited perfectly,
We’ve got the old job references we need
because we’ve got the best actors answering their phones
We get that baby
when we’ve been thinking we’re good and grown up enough to raise some sunshine,
Some of the family signs some legal guardian contracts
All of us change diapers like any uncle or aunt should
All of us raise our babies the way we raise each other:
We’re part of you.
You don’t ever feel like you need to hold us accountable
because you hold us the same way you hold yourself accountable.
We’re straight, we’re gay, we’re fly,
we’re your color or not your color,
we’re from the kinda money you had growing up or not,
our bodies are like yours or they’re not
we understand the world in ways that make your understanding of yourself in the world
more sophisticated, creative, and empowering.

Who you are is interwoven
Brilliant
Tender
Together
When who we are is family,
We’ve got it
We’ve got what all those married types have been looking for for years
We’ve got what all those kids with divorced parents find in their friends
We’ve got some shit that’s gonna make a lot of people jealous
till they figure out how to do it themselves
We’ve got sirloin steaks instead of Big Macs
We’ve got home
A home made just for us

There’s a shitton of ways we can make this home I’m not thinking of,
so thank god ya’ll are smart,
we gotta grow this list
We gotta grow what we need
because we might need things we’ve never been vital enough to know we could have
We might dream things we’d never dream
without the demand

Community,
We deserve a community of families
I need ya’ll
to trust in our chaos
because I need your family-made beauty
just as badly as I need my own

Hopefully I’ll get $30,000 from my car insurance for the “pain and suffering” of me and my bicycle being splattered by a car.
My lawyer gets 1/3 so maybe I’ll get $20k —
The most I’ve ever made for shitting in my bed for 2 months
and for sleeping 24 or 20 or 14 or 10 hours a day for 8 months,
Discovering how my friends’ love brought my brain swelling down enough that my skull didn’t get sawed off and my scalp didn’t get stuffed into my stomach,
Knowing the violence my sweetheart’s voice hurled at the concrete the day they had to picture my end,
Watching them heal my brain by ripping off scab after scab so real skin could go
Insurance has always been annoying
annoying like if 5 new face pimples appeared every time I laughed
but that $20k is ok

when my sweetheart said they needed a break
said that the insanity of the last 6 months made the perfect moment for them to experience not dating anyone for the first time since age 11
said having a fractional version of me for the past 6 months made them want to try single enough to demand it
when I agreed because I only want the best for them
insurance became a joke
a joke like if all school teachers were cops

I’ve cried every day since February
brushing teeth or making lunch might be more fun habits
but missing myself with salty drips is a necessary evil
“pain and suffering.”
My heart falling out of a hole in my sweetheart’s purse isn’t covered by my insurance.

I became a leatherback sea turtle because it was easier than running from them
I’ve been eating jellyfish for weeks
What insurance covers finding yourself in a shark’s digestive track,
over and over again?
Crying all day isn’t a habit
It’s just post-accident Kris

When my sweetheart said I wasn’t their type right now,
and after a few weeks in which I grew accustomed to the shark teeth sunk into my shell,
said that they meant their type right now isn’t an equal
said the thing is, I expect them to surpass their potential
Even when I gift them, comfort and baby them, it’s not chivalry
they can’t help but levy expectations for me equal to the ones I levy for them
after such an intense love experience over the past 6 months, they don’t want love.
They want someone to wrap them in big arms, take them out for drinks, and XXX without expecting anything back.
They just want to be a tanarchist
I figure, sometimes we all need some beach time
I’ve got a great tan from the past 7 months
So I’ll go surfing
There’s an ocean of sharks coming right for me
I don’t even need to bring a board
I’ll surf them
through jellyfish buffets
and the ocean made of tears

I’ll be right at home.