Pride, No Aspirations

Where does reason end and rationalization begin?  Dammned if I know.

But even though my mother offered to have me go to the New England Transgender Pride March in Northampton last night, and my sister even offered to drive, I don’t think I am going to go, and here is why:

  • It’s going to be 95 and humid.
  • I haven’t had the energy to do what is needed to look good, which leaves looking bad or looking invisible.
  • Gas prices are outta here (and heading higher!)
  • It will mostly be women studies feministas speaking.
  • Nobody from the local e-mail list showed any interest.
  • If I can’t go with pride, can I afford to come back with pride?
  • I tried to imagine what I might say to the group and couldn’t think of anything.

I will acknowledge that Justin Adkins offered me a personal invitation to come, and I thank him for that.    He works just over the Massachusetts border; it would be cheaper and easier to have lunch with him someday, since today he is doing staff work at the march.

So I had an invite and my family was encouraging, as far as they could be.  But they think that I just need to change clothes, and that is wrong.  To be present, I need to open up and be vulnerable, alive and energized.

I could definitely attend the march, look and listen to the event.  That might even offer some good writing, some stimulation and some insight.   Observer mode.

But I don’t know how I could be present at the event, present in a visible and potent way.  Performer mode.

I know that people often respond to the aspirational, to someone who embodies something that is attractive & desirable, something they want for themselves.  This is a key sales trick; if you want to be like us, you need to do what we tell you to do.  We see what we desire and then want to emulate.

My failing for many people is that I don’t offer that aspirational goal.  They prefer someone like Donna Rose, who is speaking today, and who offers that attractive vision of blonde possibility.

I suppose that’s why I couldn’t imagine what message I would carry.  To carry pride you have to be proud, bold and graceful, saying “Hay look at me!  I’m a shining example of potent humanity!” Pride past families that support the concept, but not the brave and bracing performance.  Pride in the sun and in the dance and in the smile, not just in the notepad.

Oh, well, I guess that I just found what I would say today, that pride is pride, lifing us when we actually embody our best possibilities, which, I hope, is the goal of the transgender quest.

But I can’t embody it today; just too many trees fallen on me to get up and dance.

And so I stay.  Stuck.