There’s lots of talk these days about “the trans”, as if they are some abstract concept out there, some weird peculiarity of human society, something strange, mysterious, devious, blah, blah, blah. I’m here to say, sometimes people are born in meat suits that don’t match their souls. I know plenty of them. (You do, too.)
Why am I thinking about the trans community on a beautiful Good Friday morning? Not to go all Christian theologian on you, but here is my answer in a poem:
The Announcement
Came today with a full color photo
“I have graduated!”
I scan the face of this unfamiliar name
the nose ring and pierced brows
the chopped brown hair
and black, so much black clothing
I dredge memories of a young girl
on stage in a lion’s mane
escorting Dorothy down a paper path
a huntsman begging Snow White
to run, run for her life
flee the witch queen and all her wickedness
I see a girl pretending to be a boy-
a boy pretending to be a girl
now a person casting off a costume
that never quite fit
claiming the stage
fearless in the spotlight
I stand and applaud
Yes, my dear,
you have graduated, indeed.
Isn’t it interesting that this appeared in my universe on the day billions of people around the globe remember the imprisonment, torture, and slaughter of an innocent human? A human compelled to preach love and community, to practice radical inclusivity? I’m just saying…
What a world we could have with a little more love and community and a lot less screaming about the “other” who is our neighbor, whether we recognize them or not.
Marilyn R Garcia 