Congrats Madame PTA President!

One of the ultimate goals for us in Trans World is to just be seen as the amazing men, women and people we are and just get on with living our lives.

Nikki Araguz Loyd since her precedent setting trans marriage case win in the Araguz v Delgado case has been doing just that.   She's been focused on helping promote her husband Will's art career, being mom to two amazing kids, being that sisterfriend to all of us blessed to have her in our lives, and some human rights and trans advocacy work in different areas of importance to her.

Oh yeah, did I mention that the camera love her?

Through the Trans National Alliance, she's helping trans folks here in the area and state of Texas get their name and gender marker changes done.   The TNA is having another fundraiser at Hamburger Mary's Houston on June 6.

Now Nikki has made history again in another arena.   Her daughter is in middle school, and as you probably guessed, she has been a fierce advocate for her and the children of the school her daughter attends in that Trump loving suburb she lives in.

The other parents at the school have taken note of her all around awesomeness and fearlessness to speak truth to power be it the principal or the school board, and yesterday elected her the president of the school's PTA for the upcoming 2017-18 school year.

She is probably the first out trans PTA president that I've been made aware of, and probably the first in the Lone Star State and possibly the nation.

As I've said, don't mess with Texas trans women.  We handle our business and get the job done.

Congratulations Madame PTA president!    May you have s successful and productive term as you take on this exciting challenge in your fabulous life.

A Good, Bad, Ugly and Great METRO Transit Day

As you've probably noted I've been a longtime public transit rider and fan, especially if your local transit system has a rail component. 

One of the things about being a transit rider is you get to meet a lot of different people as you are headed to whatever destination you are traveling to.

Sometimes those rides can be peaceful and uneventful, while others can be fraught with drama and sometimes danger

Yesterday was one of those days in which I had a METRO travel day that encompassed all of the above.

I bounced out of the house at 5 PM to head to Montrose for our monthly Creating Change host  committee meeting.  The bus route I take passes by the University of Houston, and  when it arrived at the stop at Calhoun and UH University Drive the bus filled up with students finishing their day of classes at my alma mater.   I was in the middle of a wonderful discussion at that point with another passenger about the light rail system and when it was supposed to be completed which this lovely young white female student joined in on.

That discussion on which way Houston future transit needs should go lasted all the way until we got to the Downtown Transit Center where I got off to transfer to the METRORail line and my short trip to the Red Line's Wheeler Station, the closest one to the Montrose Center where we have our monthly meetings.

On that train ride got into another conversation with a black woman several years older than me who had just gotten off the Megabus from New Orleans and was telling me about her trip a few moments after I sat down. 
She also complimented me as we chatted for being in semi diva mode for that upcoming meeting.  We both started talking about beignets, fashion, the city of New Orleans and the Saints football fortunes moments after I sat down with her.

The Wheeler Station pulled into view way too soon and I got off to handle my rainbow community business at our September Host Committee meeting.   When it was over a little after 8 PM CDT Tye West dropped me off at Wheeler Station as I waited for the northbound train to take me back to the Downtown Transit Center and my bus back to South Park. 

The first train that arrived was a two car one that was standing room only and knowing I had a little time before my homeward bound bus arrived at the Downtown Transit Center at 8:48 PM. I passed on taking that full train. 

I noted as the full two car train rolled northbound from Wheeler Station a petite African-American sister rocking an Afro and looking good doing so.  I was surprised to discover when she got close to me she stopped, gave a quizzical look and then had her face light up in recognition of me and my blogging exploits.

I was also surprised to discover the Afro wearing sister was not only a girl like us, but was Paige Mahogany.

Paige used to run the CATS gender group while I was marking the 2k's in Da Ville as a Texan in Exile.   She used to live in South Park where I live now but now lives closer to the McGowen Station in Midtown.  We had an animated conversation for a few moments until the next northbound train arrived and while we were in conversation two brothers were checking us both out since Paige in her short set was dressed more apropos for the humid Houston evening than I was in my pantsuit. 

I get on the northbound train and end up in a conversation discussing weight loss and midnight snacking with a Latino couple until I get to the Downtown Transit Center station to catch my final bus back to the house.

I grab a seat on one of the benches near the spot where my 77 MLK bus will park and settle in for a humid 15 minute wait for the southbound bus.   I notice this young African-American couple sitting a few feet from me with a cute six month old baby and go back to dealing with my own issues of when can I get my computer from the shop and rehashing much of what we discussed in the just concluded Host Committee meeting. 

While I was doing that the 11 Almeda bus rolls up and it's delayed for a few moments as they get a wheelchair passenger on.  The homeboy I observed a few moments earlier with the girlfriend and baby decides to get up and starts walking in my direction toward the St Joseph Parkway end of the transit center.

He's wearing a pleather hat I was trying to see what the design was on the front of it, and whatever Mini Me's problem was with his girlfriend and daddyhood he decided to hurl a misgendering slur at me which I was in no mood to let slide.  I called his Lilliputian ass out while pulling my cellphone out of my purse to dial the METRO po-po's in case this fool wants to start some crap.

For a moment I had a vision of my name being read at this November's TDOR, but that feeling quickly passed when I stood up to reveal that I was a very pissed off 6'2".   I was also giving him a 'don't frack with me' death stare and prepping to give him a proper South Park ass whupping if he persisted in escalating hostilities. 

The 11 Almeda patrons and the driver noticed the developing drama and out of the corner of my eye I noted he was on his radio talking to dispatch.  

Finally homeboy saw the error of his ways and took himself and his saggin' pants toward St. Joseph Parkway.  But he had succeeded in spoiling the good mood I was in by bringing that drama into my space. 

At that moment I ran into Brian, one of my Falcon classmates who was Class of 1978  (I'm Class of 80).  We'd had a long conversation a month ago and he quickly erased the frown on my face and replaced it with a smile as the bus arrived and I discovered he lives just a few blocks down the street from me.   We also have some things in common besides being Falcons as we discovered after we boarded it for home and discussed everything JJ and Houston radio related for the rest of the ride to South Park.

So yeah, it actually turned out to be a good METRO transit day after all.

Milestone Birthday Musing

As y'all know Cuatro De Mayo, AKA Moni's birthday is rapidly (with an emphasis on the rapid part) approaching.   The annual birthday introspection I do in the month leading up to it has become more acute since 2012 happens to be a milestone one.

Been thinking a lot about my life lately and some of the things I'm happy about, some of the areas I need to improve upon, and about my ongoing mission in trying to be the best person I can be.

And yes, as a person of faith, I've also been taking stock of my many blessings.  In addition to relatively good health, I've had some old friends reenter my life in the past year and made some new ones.  I've thought about some of my past milestone birthdays.  Some were good, some not so good but the thing I can be most thankful about was I still reached them.  

I've also taken some time to think about the people that were in my life who are no longer around either because they passed on or various circumstances have removed them from contact with me on a regular basis.   They were just as instrumental in their own ways to shaping the person I am today and had lessons to teach me good, bad and indifferent.   Some I'd love to see and talk to again even if it's just for a few hours in one phone conversation, while others are in the good luck and good riddance variety.  

And yes, I've pondered my pre-transition life and wondered what it would have been like if I'd taken the opposite fork in the road if I had a chance to revisit that point in my life.   However, nothing I can do about that now because I had to make that snap decision at that time and time travel isn't possible at this point so i can get a do-over.  

As the saying goes, you only get one shot in life and this ain't no practice run so Moni 2012 has to suck it up, pull up the big girl panties and work with the ramifications of those long ago decisions to the best of her ability.

I've also thought about the ladies who at various times liked my 'twin' enough to consider me marriage material and what they're up to now.  While I know the fates of four of them, there are others I haven't been in contact with for a while.  I wonder if they finally found someone worthy of them who appreciated the beautiful women they were inside and out, hopefully were smart enough to realize it and give then what I couldn't.

Nice segue into the trans part of my life.   There were some special women cis and trans who popped into my life in the early phases of my transition and taught me more than a few things about what I call quality Black womanhood.    I also have some cis women in my life now who are building on those early lessons and helping me gain a deeper understanding about what it is to be a Black woman in the 2k10's

Thank you all for being there for me and I am blessed to have a sistahcircle around me that helps me to evolve, thrive and keep me intellectually stimulated.  You taught me the valuable lesson that not all cis women are a trans woman's mortal enemies and gave me the tools to know the difference.   

When I was a kid I spent some time pondering what my life would be like at this stage twelve years into the 21st century and boy was I way off the mark.   I knew that I needed to transition at some point, but I didn't in my wildest dreams imagine that I'd be considered a major thought leader in this community and have the respect I do here and internationally.   It's also humbling that people consider me a role model as well 

Transition has been an exhilarating emotional roller coaster ride at times but one I haven't regretted getting the party started on.  I'm enjoying the ride and my post transition life with the only regret I have about it being I didn't start it sooner.   But before I start going down that road, I also have to consider that being a trans teen in the 70's and one in the 2K10's are light years different in terms of societal understanding and acceptance of trans issues.

So yeah, only nine more days to go.

Missy Ann Syndrome: Purse Grabbing White Women

TransGriot Note: Been a while since I had a guest post from my talented Canadian homegirl Renee, the creative force behind Womanist Musings. This one hit close to home because it reminded me of some pre-transition incidents I had.

And now...live from her undisclosed location in Niagara Falls, Ontario, here's Renee!


I went to the pharmacy to pick up some medication today and as I was passing by a White woman, she looked at me like I was lower than the dirt underneath her fake nails and grabbed her purse. I know that this is something often associated with Black men, but it happens to Black women as well. Apparently, the possessions of her coach purse were just so valuable, that a negro (that would be me) might find the temptation too much. Oddly enough, had she looked beyond the colour of my skin, she would have noticed that my purse, is also coach and it is no knock off (yes I am casting aspersions on her).

2-3 times a day I get some comment or even an e-mail suggesting that I hate White women, because I have the temerity to call them out on their shit. I even had one jack ass suggest that my father left my mother for a White woman, which btw is absolutely laughable. The problem must certainly be my uppity Black ass and not the fact that they think they are living in the antebellum south. Missy Ann syndrome runs deep in the veins of some White women, even when they pretend that they are liberal and tolerant. Missy Ann's constantly declare their strength and independence to the world, but aren't afraid to use their White woman tears and fears to keep Blacks in line.

Unless they can place us in a position that is significantly beneath them, the Missy Ann's of this world don't feel that they are being respected and valued. They know damn well that this is a White man's world and so the only way to have a piece of that power pie, is get into cahoots with them and lord their false superiority over people of colour. This is why you will often hear White women reduce the complaints of WOC to jealousy. On some level we must all want to be them, because how could we possibly be content with who we are. Even though Whiteness has been the cause of so much evil in this world, they have internalized the false belief that Whiteness is the height of human existence.

Talk about slavery and then stand back, because they will be more than happy to tell you about how Blacks owned slaves as well. Talk about the struggles that women face in this life, and they will be more than happy to erase your experience to talk about theirs, as they sing the praises of their White racist female heroes. Talk about their child theft, and they will tell you that they are better at raising your child than you. Talk about empowerment and listen as they elevate themselves, by claiming that all Middle Eastern women are nothing but dogs without agency. Talk about how they like to treat you like a petting zoo and touch you without permission, and they will tell some ridiculous story about the time some child of colour touched their hair as though it is somehow equivalent. No matter what issue you bring up, the one thing that is certain about a Missy. Ann, is that they will find some way to place themselves in the center of it, as though we don't already spend enough time fixated on their issues.

I don't write about White women because I hate them, I write about them because I am sick to death of being treated as less than human. I have had enough of them acting like they are above it all and then participating in racist behaviour that is every bit as damaging as that engaged in by White men. For generations, White women have sought equality with White men, ignoring the fact that in terms of the ability to behave in a racist manner, they long ago found parity. You won't hear this when they talk about oppression, because the only marginalization that matters is there own -- but you will feel their scorn in the most simple activities. I am not a violent person, but watching that woman grab her purse made me want to slap her upside her ignorant hateful head with mine. Each day we have to deal with this kind of ignorance and we are expected to swallow it. Is it really any wonder that when we do finally find out voice, our truth is the harsh to the ear. I do think that a compromise can be reached. I am quite sure that if White women agreed to stop playing Missy Anne and fouling the world with their racist ways, that WOC would be willing to go about our lives in peace, because that is all we have ever really wanted to do in the first place.

Happy Birthday To Moni

My favorite day on the calendar next to Christmas has finally arrived.

It's Cuatro De Mayo, AKA my birthday.

On this day at 10:45 PM CDT in the Lone Star State yours truly arrived on the planet. I look much different now that I did when I arrived in the world, and it's all good.

Thanks to everybody who has wished me a happy birthday so far and will do so before the end of the day. You don't know how much I appreciate it.

For the most part today is shaping up to be a good news-bad news kind of day. While I'm celebrating the fact I made it to another birthday, have my health, a roof over my head, and was blessed to see an African-American president inaugurated and doing spectacularly well in the job.

On the other hand I'm feeling homesick again, frustrated because it's been a while since I've traveled anywhere, moody because I took my last 'mones a few days ago and have to reload in addition to having to work until midnight later today.

But unlike most years in the weeks leading up to my birthday, this year I didn't spend a lot of time lamenting stuff. Maybe it was probably because I was busy with this blog and other writing assignments, the podcast and just simply living my life. I didn't have time to whine about stuff I can't change, the goals I haven't reached yet, or my dreams that as of yet remain unfulfilled. I didn't have time to mope about or ponder the various moments in time in which I made decisions back in the day that turned out to be life altering ones. I have to suck it up, put on the big girl panties and deal with it.

Could things be better? Yep. Do I need to make some improvements in my life in a few areas? Yes. Do I need to realize it's still not too late to make my dreams come true and stop being so hard on myself because it didn't happen sooner? Yep. Could I stand to lose ten pounds? Umm hmm. Do I need to do a better job of staying in touch with friends and family back home, around the country and the world? You betcha.

Do I need to lay off the Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream? Um....no.

This year I took the advice I give to others and applied it to myself in terms of counting my blessings.

I love the peace of mind and happiness I live my life with since transition. I have picked up a wonderful new friend to complement the ones that are already in my life. The blog is in another positive growth phase. I still look divalicious, even if I'm not feeling it some days. I have my health, a job and money in my purse.

I also get another chance to hit the road with Polar in 24 hours, and y'all know how much I love road trips.

And best of all I love the person I see in the mirror when I wake up in the morning.

Just Because You're Younger Doesn't Mean I Can't Learn Something From You

One lesson I was taught by my parents growing up was even though I possessed off the charts intelligence, in order to keep me from developing the arrogance that can sometimes accompany that level of intelligence, I was told and have observed that there's always someone on the planet who is smarter than you.

I like surrounding myself in my circle of friends with people of not only diverse backgrounds that I can have intelligent, thought provoking conversations with, but of different ages who can teach me something as well.

Sometimes those people are younger than me.

Just because I've lived longer on Planet Earth doesn't necessarily mean I'm automatically more intelligent than a twenty or thirtysomething. I have a life experience advantage on them, but if I sit down and have a conversation with a young brother or sister who has some profound insightful knowledge to impart to me, I'm in shut up and listen mode.

We must remember that the twenty and thirtysomethings grew up being immersed in information and are far more tech savvy than those of us whose first computer was a Radio Shack TRS-80.

I take time to listen to the younglings. They may have a fresh way of looking at a problem or have come up with new tactics to achieve an old goal.

If you're too busy dismissing their idea simply because the person proposing it doesn't have more birthdays under their belt, then you run the risk of driving them away and you and the cause you're championing never having the benefit of their wisdom again.

One of my goals has always been that I want to continue to grow and evolve as a person throughout my lifespan. Sometimes the people that will help you achieve that goal happen to be part of Generations X, Y and Z and not the Pepsi or Greatest Generation.

When they wish to speak to me, they'll have my undivided attention.