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Most of the time, my situation as a trans woman isn't on the top of my thoughts. I'm privileged enough in so many ways that being trans isn't a big issue, it's just my life, my version of living as a woman.
But each year, when Transgender Day of Remembrance rolls around, I'm reminded that most of my trans and non-binary siblings don't have my protections. I read the lists of names (375 on one list) and it hits me that each of these names is a human being, much like myself, and each one had their life, their hopes, a future which they were working towards, which was cut down and discarded by a society that sees them as an abomination. Some people, when they are murdered, evoke public mourning and outrage and news articles and maybe even have laws named after them, but these people were mostly ones that their society preferred to pretend didn't even exist. Human beings who were invisible and were mourned by their equally invisible friends, and if the wider society took any note of them at all, it was to misgender and deadname them and maybe imply that their dying was no loss. And some, the ones who appear on the lists as unidentified corpses, probably disappeared without anyone noticing it at all. Yet each of these was a human being much like you or me.
Each of these deaths diminishes all of us, as John Donne pointed out ("Ask not for whom the bell tolls....")
For me, TDoR is about openly respecting and valuing each of these murdered people. It's our way of insisting to the world that each of these, even "the least of these," was deserving of respect and being remembered for who they were. It's an act of resistance against the structural transphobia of the world we live in that would prefer that they had never existed in the first place. Just to say their names and reflect on what we know of them (however little) is an act of defiance.
But what saddens me the most is that with rare exceptions all we know of any of them is their name and when and how they died (and sometimes not even that much.) They deserve more than that. Actually, any human being deserves more than that.
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In our community here
To the right side of our page, we are presented with a section commemorating the lives of our sisters and brothers who have passed on. Amongst those were friends who DID experience the sad reality of rejection by real-life family and friends.
But also among those of us who carry on here are many who have also known that pain of rejection. I thank god that to the few who know who I am face-to-face, I have never known that pain. But like many of us who live mostly if not completely in the shadows, I still feel that rejection and accompanying fear from those I know and love who would be hard pressed to go against their own bias toward our community if they but knew who we are.
And the sadness that accompanies the harsh, ignorant words of those we know who speak out against transgender people and the larger community of LGBTQ folks. The president and other within his cabinet and support have noted that this is the worst year yet for transgender people being killed merely because of who they were. Such a long way yet to go!
Love, Andrea Lena
“Only” 375 that we know of
As I was translating a prayer yesterday. It hit me. For all those who we can name there are many more whom we never knew….
Anne Margarete
For those who may find comfort in it.
For those who may find comfort in it.
*Kaddish is the blessing of G’d in the name of the deceased. Part of the mourning ritual.
. . .
El Malei Rachanim for Transgender Day of Remembrance
God full of mercy, bless the souls of all who are in our hearts on this
Transgender Day of Remembrance. We call to mind today those
young and old, of every race, faith, and gender experience, who
have died by violence. We remember those who died because they
would not hide, or did not pass, or did pass, or stood too proud, or
looked like someone who did. Today we name them: the reluctant
activist; the fiery hurler of heels; the warrior for quiet truth; the one
whom no one really knew. As many as we can name, there are thousands more whom we
cannot and for whom no Kaddish may have been said. We mourn
their senseless deaths and give thanks for their lives, for their
teaching, and for the brief glow of each holy flame. We pray for the
strength to carry on their legacy of vision, bravery, and love.
And as we remember them, we remember with them the
thousands more who have taken their own lives. We pray for resolve
to root out the injustice, ignorance, and cruelty that grow despair.
And we pray, God, that all those who perpetrate hate and violence
will speedily come to understand that Your creation has many faces,
many genders, many holy expressions.
Blessed are they who have allowed their divine image to shine in the world.
Blessed is God, in whom no light is extinguished.
By Rabbi Reuben Zellman , 2005
. . .
Anne Margarete