So, I’ve read fear mongering comments from some family, I’ve read support from others (and my amazing friends), and I have read desperate attempts to keep the peace and put forward a false equivalency narrative.
Let me tell you what all this “hullabaloo” over bathrooms means to me as a trans woman (not speaking for anyone else.)
For starters, since coming out I have had far too many negative experiences in both bathrooms. If I go in the ladies room and someone “makes” me, I risk arrest, even here in NY, for “public indecency.” If I go to the men’s room in my dress and make up, I risk a beating, or worse. So even on those days that I am too rushed to “pass” and it is the default to use the men’s room, I am full of anxiety.
But let’s forget that for a moment. Let’s talk about the fact that the fearmongers are trying to paint us as monsters and what that means. To illustrate my point I want you to think of a Triple A baseball stadium in your region. I want you to think of it as filling up with people, and the very last person in gets murdered. That is the murder rate for the general populace. Now I want you to think of your dining room table, sure go ahead, put the leaf in, pretend it’s Thanksgiving. Then murder the last person to sit down for dinner. That is the murder rate for Trans Women. Make it your breakfast nook for Trans Women of Color. The narrative pushed by the haters makes it that much more likely that folks will feel justified killing us.
Not just killing us though. Killing us brutally. Killing us with baseball bats. Sodomizing us, killing us slowly. Killing us the way the fictional psychos in a Tarantino or Scorsese film kill. That shit is for real for us. It happens because, again, you make it easy to not see us as human.
You make it easy to not see us as human so I have to hear frat boys joke about “let’s hold IT down and fuck IT up ITS ass to see if IT really wants to be a woman.” I read my sisters wanting to die and while I preach strength and perseverance, I do so as a hypocrite because there is not a week that goes by that I don’t feel that urge.