Yesterday in Oakland, Sasha Fleischman was set on fire while riding the bus. Why? Sasha was wearing a skirt and happens to be male-assigned.
I don’t know Sasha, but I’m posting this for two reasons:
- To get the news out WHILE respecting Sasha’s gender
- To let people know about the fundraiser to help pay for Sasha’s medical expenses.
I tried and failed to find a news article that didn’t misgender Sasha. Other than the obnoxious misgendering, this article seems to explain what happened fairly well. I don’t know their preferred pronouns, but please mentally replace each instance of “man” with “person” while reading.
Sasha’s family has set up a fundly page to raise money to help Sasha recover from their injuries. If you can donate, please do so! If you can’t, signal-boosting is also helpful!
hibbidy-skippidy asked: Scum.
reason 572934 why I don’t talk much
I generally don’t engage in substantial conversations with people who do not recognize the validity and relevance of agender and nonbinary gender identities. I mean, honestly, how could I?
When someone tells me that they don’t think being agender is a real thing, what they are saying is:
“Well, Char, you certainly think you’re pretty fucking special. You just gotta be you, hm? Too damn good to just choose between female and male like the rest of us. No, you clearly need to stand out, grab some more attention, rebel from basic foundational facts of life. How sophomoric. How inane. Look, Char: I know you better than you know yourself. I know this shit you say you take so seriously is all an act. It’s a ploy to win some oppression popularity contest. The truth is, you’re just fucking delusional, and you should probably lay off that fake estrogen and get some serious counseling.”
The best, most concise reply I can think of to all that is “Fuck you,” but that would of course only be seen as immature.
For me, an agender identity is vital. As a child, I never felt any connection with the gender that I was assigned. While I experienced crushing body and gender dysphoria and began to experiment with different presentations and affectations, I never identified with either my assigned gender or the other commonly recognized gender. This lack of gender identity led me to believe that I wasn’t actually trans*- after all, I was taught by the internet in the ‘90s that trans people are defined primarily by their gender identity. So it wasn’t until I realized that I fit comfortably into the trans identity of agender that I was able to take substantial steps in my transition, such as hormone replacement therapy and genital reconfiguration surgery.
Gender is terribly important. It influences how one perceives the world, and it greatly influences how others perceive and interact with you. The fact that I am agender plays out constantly in each of my encounters with others. Being agender is a core, foundational aspect of my identity and my experience.
So when someone takes that fact and tells me to my face, “You’re delusional and making up bullshit,” I find myself disinclined to continue discussion. I just am not confident in the quality of communication that might possibly occur when the conversation opens with “I think your lived experience and your hard-won lessons are entirely void and meaningless.”
tumblr took down my lip-sewing vid, which had no nudity/ anything conventionally pornographic.
no notice or reason given.
I’ve re-uploaded it on my account at qtp, even though it’s not porn, simply because they’re just about the only host I’ve used that doesn’t delete my content without warning.
Pornography is the genre designated for trans people. Any art that contains my body must, by definition, fall into that classification. There is no expression in any medium I can make that will not be viewed and treated as pornographic.
I am an acolyte of pain and fear.
Pain isn’t simple but at this point it is not challenging for me.
Fear is complex and requires work.
The point is not the needles and the blood. The point is it’s fucking unsafe to put a razor inside my mouth and sew my lips together.
Ask me sometime about my legs if you see me in person & you’re curious. That story is a bit more personal, so I won’t be putting it online anywhere.
the phrase “man of the cloth” just brings to mind that sham-wow guy.
a quote from a place
William Counce says he recently spoke with an embalmer who stuck himself while working on the body of a man who died of Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease, a human cousin of mad cow disease. “It can have a 20-year incubation period, so he will worry,” says Counce. “His state of mind is not good. He’ll require some counseling for this.
I say this with love
I was talking with a friend the other day about tumblr queers
& how interactions between tumblr queers can tend to be “hey I saw you put up that super personal post, thanks for being so vulnerable, that’s really meaningful, talking about your extensive trauma and abuse is really hard and what you’re doing is super admirable, I really hear your concerns about how you think sex and showing affection may just be a desperate attempt to find validation in an uncaring world, it’s so amazing the way you function at all in a society that constantly oppresses you on all those different axes, I empathize with you even though obvs I cannot even imagine what you’re going through right now,
and, hey, wanna fuck?”
he says he’d like to check out my game sometime
my chess game