Original Plumbing

SEAN DORSEY DANCE & THE SECRET HISTORY OF LOVE

Josh — Mon, 14 May 2012 15:12:46 +0000

Sean Dorsey! (photo / Lydia Daniller)

I recently had the opportunity to interview Award Winning choreographer and dancer, Sean Dorsey. Dance Magazine named Sean one of the “Top 25 to Watch” in the nation, and SF Weekly named his company, Sean Dorsey Dance, San Francisco’s Best Dance/Performance Company. Here’s what Sean had to say!

OP: I hear you’re on the road with your latest work, “The Secret History of Love”! Where did I catch you for this interview?

Sean Dorsey: I’m in San Francisco back at daily rehearsals with my company — we’re in between tours: last month was our California tour (San Jose, Chico, Claremont) and this week we leave for tours to Santa Cruz, Miami and Boston.

And how would you summarize the show in one sentence?

The Secret History Of Love is a full-bodied, full-throttle dance-theater show that reveals the ways that queer and transgender people managed to find — and LOVE — each other in decades past. From 1920s speakeasies to wartime love affairs to 1950s police raids to long-lost love letters, the show is based on real-life and real-love stories.

I’ve seen “Secret History” and was one in the sea of standing ovation. How long did it take to create, and what was your light at the end of the creative process tunnel, so to speak?

The Secret History Of Love is the culmination of a two-year research and creation process, including a national LGBT Elders Oral History Project I conducted. I did a ton of archival research, and then recorded interviews of LGBT elders sharing their life stories and love stories. These elders’ voices and stories are the heart of the show.

I spent about a year transcribing these interviews and writing and recording the soundscore to the show (the dances are accompanied by spoken narrative, stories and the elders’ voices). After I had a draft of the soundscore, I started rehearsing with my dancers to create the choreography. We did intensive rehearsals over two periods during this two years.

Sean in motion. photo / Lydia Daniller)

My light at the end of the ‘creative process tunnel’ … ah, yes the light! This project was REALLY intensive and intense — for every minute of my hour-long soundscore, I spent up to 6 hours in the recording studio, and then I still had all the choreography ahead of me. It was enormous and at times overwhelming. My light was the remarkable group of elders I worked with on this project — the inspiration of their stories, and my drive to share those stories before they are lost or forgotten.

What’s it like working with cis-gendered men in your dance company?

Right now, my dance company is all-male — I am the only transgender guy in the company. There are really interesting, ongoing conversations and exhanges about masculinity, gender and sexuality amongst us all and our varied gender expressions and life experiences. We are always learning from each other. I also think there has been some revolutionary opening up in the Bay Area gay men’s community from my company; gay men haven’t always connected with trans guys, but my work has really attracted a huge non-trans gay-male audience. Really it’s remarkable how diverse my audience is: trans, queer, straight…

What are the most challenging and conversely most rewarding aspects of your work?

The most challenging part of my work is early in the creative process – writing my soundscore, re-writing the soundscore and working to land on a clear vision for the movement. These processes are very solitary, by necessity. The most rewarding aspects of my work are working in the studio with my dancers, working with my Sound Engineer and Composers in the recording studio and performing and touring the final work.

If you could define your artistic legacy, what would that be?

I hope that I succeed in making dances that move people deeply. I hope I succeed in making work that speaks to transgender and queer people and our lives. I hope I continue to be able to create space for transgender and gender-variant people in dance — both on stage and in audiences.

What message do you have for the next generation of trans dancers and choreographers?

DO IT – DANCE! Despite every message from our culture that tells you otherwise, your body is beautiful and what you have to say with it is important. Share your body, share your dances, share your story. And keep doing it, despite the ruckus it may cause. Find safe places to dance and move and train – and find each other.

Finally – where can people see you next?!

I’ll be performing The Secret History Of Love on tour this year in Santa Cruz (May 5), Miami (May 12), Boston (May 17-19), Los Angeles (August), Chicago (October) and Whitewater Wisconsin (October). In 2013 we tour to Philadelphia, San Antonio, Chico, Claremont, San Jose and other cities.

Sean Dorsey and “The Secret History of Love” are always looking for cities, festivals and colleges to tour: if you have an interest or a contact, please email him at freshmeatinfo@gmail.com. To learn more about Sean, visit: www.seandorseydance.com

ROCCO KATASTROPHE’S RECORD RELEASE WITH MAKING FRIENDZ & MORE!

Editor's Pick — Tue, 08 May 2012 15:58:18 +0000

Rocco Katastrophe's SECOND HAND EMOTION

CAPTIVE GENDERS

Bryn Kelly — Thu, 03 May 2012 14:17:26 +0000

Captive Genders

When I was thinking about how to approach writing a review of Captive Genders: Trans Embodiment and the Prison Industrial Complex, edited by Eric A. Stanley & Nat Smith, I considered several different angles. I considered talking about how, where I grew up in rural Appalachia, the local prison was the town’s largest and best-paying employer, and to recount some instances that my mom told me about from her time working there with incarcerated teenage trans girls. I thought about leading with some stories about the time when my brother-in-law was imprisoned for a few years, and the emotional (not to mention bureaucratic) nightmare it was to figure out how to get him back on his feet afterward. I thought about talking about what I have learned from volunteering for the last five years at the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, and helping with efforts to organize for justice for people struggling with the effects of the shrinking budget of New York City’s HIV housing administration. Nothing seemed quite right, though.

Then this happened.

In case you hadn’t heard, Chrishaun “CeCe” McDonald is a young African-American trans woman, who, until very recently, had been living a pretty quiet life in Minneapolis studying fashion design and helping out in her community. This all changed a few months ago, when she and a group of friends were assaulted while passing by a bar, on their way to the store, by a group of drunk white patrons. After one of the attackers cut CeCe with a broken bottle, a fight ensued, and one of the men who had been harassing CeCe and her friends, Dean Schmitz, was fatally wounded with a pair of scissors. CeCe was arrested for his murder.

Though it’s painfully obvious to most trans people, especially those who have ever faced violence, that self-defense would be a perfectly reasonable response in these circumstances (Schmitz, it would later be reported, had a Swastika tattoo), CeCe was arrested and prosecuted for Schmidtz’ murder. There is little doubt in the minds of CeCe’s supporters that she is the victim of an unjust, racist, and transphobic climate of violence that eventually culminated in her imprisonment.

CeCe McDonald with Leslie Feinberg

Stories like CeCe’s are what Captive Genders is all about. The book attempts to not only shine light on individual narratives of trans people’s experiences with prison systems, but also to explain and contextualize why queer and trans people, particularly low-income queer and trans people of color, seem to be so vulnerable to falling into the clutches of an ever-expanding industry of incarceration.

And it succeeds phenomenally. The book is a fiery and righteous intellectual comet that tears across a zodiac of overlapping queer constellations. I am no super-activist, but I consider myself fairly well-versed in the basics of prison abolition, and at least moderately aware of how racism, transphobia and the criminalization of poverty play into the ways that trans people get caught up in the system, and the essays in this book contained so many new shooting stars of insight for me, making connections between issues that I had never noticed before. To continue with the expansive and kind of cheesy cosmic metaphors, this book will blow up your brain like a supernova.

For instance, in what is perhaps my favorite essay in the book, Ralowe Trinitotoluene Ampu’s “Hotel Hell: With Continual References to Insurrection,” the author highlights the ways that residence hotels function in similar ways to prisons, by regulating the poor through emotional and political claustrophobia, and how the palpable oppression of being stuck in low-income single-room-occupancy housing wears at everything you’ve got. The essay is literary, ferociously intellectual, conversational, and fucking cool. Ampu has an acrobatic way with language, creating a distinct sense of interiority that is part of a larger social fabric: of activist communities and communities of people who have been alienated from political process, of queer communities of color and white queer communities, and of the community of the entire city of San Francisco and its real estate machinations. This is your weird genius friend telling you a story that will stick with you for months, if not years, if not the rest of your life. Also, by describing a particularly doofy and ineffective manarchist organization as a “cointelbromance,” the author has given me my favorite word of 2012.

In another essay, Erica R. Meiners studies the ethics and efficacy of sex offender registries, weaving in and out between hardcore research and memory journal. Crimes of a sexual nature obviously provoke a profound collective emotional response (remember To Catch a Predator?), which makes this essay one of the most high-voltage in the book. Even the most dedicated prison abolitionist is hard-pressed to talk about how to handle people who abuse kids. Meiners manages to discuss these issues in a sane way, redirecting the rage that people feel over these injustices in crucial directions. If I may quote a passage that stuck in my head for weeks: “In a nation without an adequate or affordable childcare system, no universal health care, expensive to prohibitive costs for higher education, and a minimum wage that is not a living wage, there are no registries for officials and employers who routinely implement policies that actively endanger all people, including or even particularly children.”

In an essay which might be of particular interest to OP readers, Lori Girshick presents her research with masculine-identified people who are incarcerated in women’s prisons. After tracing a history of how one of the main functions of women’s prisons has been to help “rehabilitate” female-assigned people into proper womanhood, she goes on to trace the ways that transmasculine and trans male people on the inside are punished for deviating from traditional notions of femininity. From being forced to wear feminine uniforms, to being sequestered to the “butch wing” (sometimes, it is implied, so cis male prison guards can have more unfettered sexual access to these guys’ femme partners), to being verbally and physically harassed and degraded by prison staff, being a trans man on the inside is no fucking joke. Girshick also highlights the ingenious ways that these guys and their partners fight back, from making boxer shorts out of bed sheets to acquiring doctor’s notes allowing them to sport facial hair.

There are dozens of other essays in the book. Several deal with the history of queer prison resistance, and how gay politics transitioned from a movement of resistance to police brutality to a contemporary politic that seems to render queer prisoners at best unpalatable, and at worst invisible. There’s a great essay in this section about organizing teenage street queens in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district in the 1960s, and how they produced a phenomenally hot and bitchy magazine called Vanguard, a spiritual ancestor of all contemporary independent queer print media (ahem ahem.) There are a couple of conversations with Miss Major, a straight-talking elder trans woman and Stonewall veteran who is still a powerhouse in national trans social justice movements today. Other interviews with queer prisoners, research on issues like immigration and HIV, and a hefty dose of heavy theoretical work, further broaden the scope of the collection.

Which brings us back to CeCe. When her trial started at the beginning of this week, people all around the world were geared up for a fight. Motions were attempted to introduce expert testimony on the ways that violence affects trans people, and jury selection was looking somewhat favorable. But yesterday, CeCe agreed to take a plea of secondary manslaughter with negligence, basically admitting (for the legal record, anyway) that in the convoluted logic of the law, by at some point having the fabric shears in her hand, she is culpable for whatever harm may have been caused by them. She will probably get about two years in prison, in essence, for running with scissors.

So, how do we deal? CeCe’s supporters have an action plan, that includes supporting her through letter-writing, donating to her support fund, packing the courtroom with supporters during her sentencing hearing, and some have even called on the governor of Minnesota to issue a pardon. But in this culture of everyday violence, what do we do? When this terrible shit keeps happening to us and our friends, how do resist not only the injustice of the state, but the creeping hopelessness that worms its way into the cracks of our soul and makes us never want to leave the house again?

In the closing essay of the book, Reina Gosset participates in a round-table discussion about visions for the abolitionist movement. She talks about work with the Welfare Warriors, and organizing project of Queers for Economic Justice. She says, “If we’re trying to build a grassroots organizing project that encompasses all of us, we need to make sure shame and isolation are challenged and incorporated into our organizing. Of course, we are also not victims. We are fighting back…” She goes on to list the results of a survey that the Welfare Warriors project did with its participants about how they attempt to cope with the shit that the system slings at them. I would like to present the top results here for you, as sort of a found poem. I am going to print this out and stick it on my wall and repeat it to myself every goddamn day:

We tell others what happened
we write in journals
we have fun
we exercise
we meditate
we make art
and we pray.

If you would like to help support CeCe McDonald, you can visit her website for updates by her support team here.

Bryn Kelly is all about the story. She has shared her written work at NYC-based performance series Gayety!, Low Standards, and Queer Memoir; on Showtime’s OurChart.com; and in the anthology, Trans/Love: Radical Sex, Love and Relationships Beyond the Gender Binary. She was a cofounder of Theater Transgression, a multimedia performance collective, and has appeared in Dixon Place’s HOT! Festival; in As You Like It at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe; and on NBC’s Law and Order: SVU. She lives in Brooklyn.

AT RISK OF MEDICAL DRAMA

Mo — Thu, 03 May 2012 04:21:04 +0000

I'm a sucker for medical dramas

In college, I used to pretty obsessively watch House, MD. First off, Hugh Laurie is a total silver fox babe, and second, I’m a sucker for medical dramas.

One episode features a 600 pound man with some sort of mystery disease. They keep testing him for diseases that are weight related but all of his results come back normal. He finally tells the doctors, “I’ve been fat all my life, but sick only recently. If you want to look for a disease that has nothing to do with my size, I’ll help you. Otherwise, leave me alone.” House finally accidentally notices that the patient isn’t dying because he’s fat, but because he has lung cancer.

This episode stuck with me because it showed (however fictitiously), that doctors aren’t always right, and that a fat person can stand up for himself in a health care setting. I’ve spent my youth accepting every single diagnosis thrown at me by doctors. I’ve been tested for blood sugar problems, cholesterol problems, and thyroid problems, despite no other symptoms leading to those diagnoses. At 16, my doctor prescribed me phentermine, a habit forming appetite suppressant. None of the tests explained my fatness, and none of the drugs “cured” me. I was lead me to believe that being overweight was such a serious health issue that I should bravely accept the battery of tests, and take a dangerous, addictive drug because it might make me skinnier.

A few years later I got a job at a community clinic. In that job I learned how to take blood pressure, and I got to teach this skill to a bunch of awesome volunteers! The day after one of these marathon training sessions, that left my arms bruised from so much blood pressure cuffing, I had my first check up with my new doctor. I picked this doctor because she was promised to be queer and trans friendly, but I was also pretty terrified because at that point the doctor’s office was a place that I was told I was too fat, and where I never felt I could defend my gender or sexual orientation.

At first, all my fears were confirmed. The medical assistant who brought me back sat me down at the electronic blood pressure machine and strapped me in. The machine pumped and spat out a number that was ALARMINGLY high. And because I had my blood pressure taken no less than 15 times the DAY BEFORE and knew that the number was waaaayyyy above where it should be, I told the MA that the number wasn’t right. She looked me up and down and replied, “these machines are very accurate.” Thank god my doctor wasn’t a total tool and agreed to re-take my blood pressure the old-fashioned way. Low and behold, the number that came back was my usual low number — below the national average, in fact!

I just saw this same doctor a few weeks ago for my yearly physical exam. Blood pressure was normal, all my tests came back great, and I was given a clean bill of health. She noted my weight had crept up a bit, but agreed it was probably because I had recently spent a bunch of time bed ridden in a giant cast recovering from surgery. She ended the visit with, “There is absolutely no reason you can’t be totally healthy at your current weight.” Score another one for my kick ass doctor who realizes that I can be fat AND healthy!

The next day, I gleefully went in for my annual gyno exam with my trans and queer friendly gyno, expecting another positive visit. I told her I was planning on getting pregnant in the next 5 years, and her response was, “You should lose weight before you get pregnant because people who go into pregnancies overweight are more likely to get gestational diabetes and high blood pressure.” The blood drained from my face and I felt outraged.

“Wait,” I demanded, “are ALL fat pregnant people at risk for those things? Or just fat pregnant people who had those risks before they got pregnant?” After much heated back and forth she finally admitted that I probably wasn’t at risk for gestational diabetes or high blood pressure since I didn’t have those problems currently. I left the appointment crestfallen and furious. Instead of relevant prenatal info, I was told that I was too fat to get pregnant. I had to fight with my provider to get her to admit that not all fat people have risky pregnancies.

As a fat person living a healthy life, I shouldn’t have to defend my healthiness to my provider, who has all of the information to know better. Fatness does not automatically make a person unhealthy. Blood pressure, blood sugar levels, cholesterol, how much exercise a person gets, how well they eat, their mental and emotional health and SO MUCH MORE determines how healthy they are. I know how lucky I am to have access to healthcare and competent providers, but I will no longer be shamed into thinking I’m too fat to be healthy by ANYONE, let alone my doctor. My health problems are not necessarily due to my weight, and I shouldn’t have to prove this fact to, sometimes quite literally, defend my wellbeing.

OP’s San Francisco ENTERTAINMENT ISSUE Release Party! [MAY 11th]

Amos Mac — Tue, 01 May 2012 21:02:23 +0000

FREEPLAY DANCE CREW

GX MEOW

[EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW] ELI CONLEY & STORM MIGUEL FLOREZ!

Josh — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 03:00:14 +0000

StormMiguel Florez

I sat down with two of the Bay Area’s most talented and prolific trans folk music heroes, Eli Conley and StormMiguel Florez. See Eli live at El Rio (San Francisco) on April 26, and StormMiguel on April 29 at Second Story Arts Collective (Sacramento)!

So, how would you guys describe your music to our readers in 3 words?

Eli Conley: Soulful, melodic Americana.

StormMiguel Florez: Acoustic, Moody, Twangy.

Beautiful! And what inspires you to be artists?

EC: I’m inspired by my friend, feminist singer-songwriter Talia Cooper, who says that artists aren’t “special”, we all have the capacity to be deeply creative. Artists are just folks who choose to prioritize and follow creativity. When I think of it that way, I pay attention in my day to day life, recognizing that songwriting inspiration can strike anytime. The trick is to allow myself to drop into what I’m doing and follow that path to see where it takes me, something I’ve done a lot more of since allowing myself to claim the title “artist.”

SMF: For me, it’s the one consistent thing I’ve loved to do my whole life. When I was in fourth grade, I had a friend who was a bit of a bully and one day when I was singing she told me to stop because I was tone deaf. I could’ve clammed up, but I joined the school chorus instead. I figured if I was tone deaf, I’d better learn to sing right. For me, singing is meditation. It’s cathartic, and the best way I know to express myself.

And how does being trans impact your music?

SMF: As a trans man on testosterone, it changed my voice. I was pretty happy with my singing voice, so [starting testosterone] felt like a huge risk. Even after 7 years on “t”, my voice still changes and settles. I sometimes miss my old voice, but I’m happy with what I have now and pleasantly surprised at the things it can do. It was well worth the risk.

Being trans also impacts decisions I make. I recently had the opportunity to work with a lesbian performer I’ve always admired but right before we started, she told me she regularly performs at Michfest. As much as I wanted to work with her, I believe that as a trans artist and activist, my art should reflect my beliefs, especially since I see being a trans artist of color as a form of activism. I try to remember that even though my songs are rarely political, I contribute to social justice by making art and performing in alignment with my beliefs and the change I want to see in the world. I’m not hatin’ on Michfest, but I want them to be stronger allies to trans women.

EC: For me, songwriters are storytellers, and so as a trans man, inevitably some of the stories I tell have to do with being trans. My song “Pinocchio” says trans people are who we say we are, regardless of our transition status. And “Social Security Song” is about changing my gender at the Social Security office in Virginia, where I was raised. These days being trans isn’t a core part of my identity, so the stories I tell in songs have less to do with gender than they once did. My recent songs have been love songs, and one about a siren who joins a rock band because she’s tired of singing sailors to their deaths on the cliffs.

Cute!! Ok , what’s the best gig you’ve played, the hardest one, and the dream gig?

EC: Let’s see…Well for two years I had a trio called Eli Conley and Hip for Squares. When I went solo, we had a goodbye show at a social justice arts and performance space where I teach a singing class for LGBTQ people, and the house was packed with family. That was the best gig so far. My hardest gig was the first show of my August tour, playing at an upscale pizza place in Eugene, Oregon. We drove for 8 hours and didn’t know anyone there. Once onstage we realized several of our cords were broken and it felt like no one was listening. But afterward, several folks signed my mailing list and bought CD’s, so that goes to show that just because it feels like a rough night to me, it doesn’t mean the audience isn’t feeling it. I try to remember that when I’m having a tough show. My dream gig is to play on Mountain Stage, the public radio show taped in front of a live audience in West Virginia. I grew up listening to it, and it would be phenomenal to get to play it.

SMF: Best gig… back in the glory days of my all dyke band from Albuquerque, one of the best gigs I played was in Baltimore at a tiny place called Cafe Diana. Earlier in the day when we walked into the space, the drummer and bass player had a fit about how it would be impossible to perform in this small space and almost cancelled the gig. But we made it work, and were surprised at the great energy in that room, crammed with at least 20 people and our four piece band. I’ve had amazing gigs since then, but that one stands out. Worst gig? Somehow I got booked to play at a jazz poetry club in New Orleans. It was a hot club with a lot of talent, but as a folksinger, I had no business there. People were very polite except for one woman who laughed during most of my set. And dream gig…I would love to open for Lila Downs, and then have her and her band back me up. She could sing back-up vocals on my song “Legend”!

So asking as a fan, do your fans sometimes move you as much as you move them?

SMF: I am absolutely moved by people who show up and participate in the energy exchange of live performance. It’s one of my favorite things in the world. We’re out there baring our souls and opening our hearts to the love in the room. I know it sounds hella woo, but anyone who loves live music knows what I’m talking about. I am deeply moved by my supporters.

EC: I agree! That’s also why being an openly trans musician is such a gift. There have been a number of times when trans folks come up to me after I’ve played and tell me that I’ve inspired them to believe they could perform music, or they realize that taking testosterone doesn’t have to mean giving up singing. When the songs you write are mostly about personal experiences, it feels really gratifying to have someone come up after a show and share something about their lives and the way your music has touched them.

I love that. Alright, what advice do you have for future generations of trans artists?

SMF: It’s the same advice I have for all artists. Make art because you love to make art. Even though the world is not set up to support artists, it doesn’t make us and our work any less important or worthy. The world and your communities need you, whether they know it or not.

Eli Conley

EC: So true. For me, and to paraphrase Emerson, every artist started out an amateur. I remind myself of that. Keep at your art, and don’t get discouraged by your mistakes — recognize and grow from them. Reach out to other artists, trans or not. We are often afraid to ask for help or feedback or advice from other artists and live in a capitalist society that encourages us to be competitive rather than collaborative. It can feel like there’s limited opportunities and we have to be “better” than other artists. But we have everything to gain from being in community with each other! I’m amazed at the generosity of other musicians, especially trans and queer musicians — folks like you, Josh. (Aw, thanks Eli!) Nomy Lamm and StormMiguel Florez and Shawna Virago and many other folks have also offered me advice, places to perform, encouraging words, and I am so thankful. The most important thing is keep believing in yourself, put in the time with your art and follow your muse wherever it leads. And once you’ve got work you’re proud of, don’t be afraid to promote yourself!

Yes! Next to last question: If you had one wish for the world, what would it be?

EC: I’d wish for true social justice for all people. To quote the Black Panthers, that includes land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice, peace and people’s community control of modern technology. Not just for the 1%, but for people from all oppressed communities.

SMF: My wish is that everyone welcomes and expects compassion and accountability for and by everyone, especially themselves.

Your hearts are huge my friends! Last but not least – what’ve you got coming up?

EC: I’m really looking forward to “Three Guys: The Mix” 4/26 at El Rio in SF. It’s with Joe Stevens of Coyote Grace, and multi-instrumentalist Beau Dream. Sunday 4/29 I’ll be in Sacramento at the Second Story Arts Collective to teach a singing workshop for LGBTQ people and allies, and play a show with Joe and StormMiguel. I love these all trans guy shows! May 18th I’m at Dolores Park Cafe in SF backed by Ashley Wai’olu Moore – she’s another talented trans musician! Info on all this is at my website, www.eliconley.com

SMF: I’m excited to premiere my new (zombie) drinking song video “I’ve Been To Manhattan” this summer – time and place to be announced. The single should be out in May. In June, I play the Fresh Meat Festival. And (transgender queer punk folk rocker) Shawna Virago and I might do another Gender Desperado Jamboree show in May. My website has all the info: www.stormflorez.com

Thanks for your time guys – and here’s to many more years of your music in the world!

NEW BINDER EXCHANGE PROGRAM “IN A BIND”

Wyatt Riot — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 13:30:05 +0000

New National Binder Exchange Program

Wyatt Riot sat down and talked with Kit Crosland, Program Coordinator of Portland’s brand new binder exchange program, In A Bind .

Wyatt Riot: Hi, Kit! Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk to me about the In a Bind Exchange Program. Can you tell me a little bit about what In A Bind is?
Kit Crosland: In a Bind is a brand new binder exchange program run by TransActive Education & Advocacy. ‪We collect donations of used chest binders from trans guys who no longer need them either because they had top surgery or changed size. Then we send them out to young trans guys or genderqueers who are unable to get new ones on their own.
How exciting! Binders are so expensive. It’s so nice to see a program that will help folks get access to them. Are you accepting donations of new binders, too?
Absolutely! We are not in the business of turning away donations! We actually have had a few new binder donations already either from guys who already got rid of their old binders or allies who never had one to begin with.
Amazing! That’s great. Is this only limited to people in the US?
Right now it’s for people in the United States. [We] do not have the financial resources to ship out of country.
‪Totally, shipping can be so expensive! Maybe folks outside of the US can take this idea and start it where they live.
I certainly hope so! We are in contact with a similar program in Australia and [we] are certainly willing to pass on what we know to folks in other countries interested in starting their own programs.

Kit Crosland, Program Coordinator, In A Bind Exchange Program‪

Oh? Amazing! That’s great! Do you know the name of the program in Australia?
Yes, it’s called Pay-It-Forward and it’s supported by FTM Australia. ‪They were of great help when we were in the early stages of developing In a Bind.
I love that. It’s all about sharing the knowledge. When did the idea of starting IBEP happen?
One of our volunteers, Kate Levy, is a mother of a trans child and was thinking about other young trans people and the various struggles they face. She came up with the problem of obtaining binders when you’re young, still in school, and may live with unsupportive parents. She approached Jenn Burleton, TransActive Executive Director, about this idea about a year ago.
How did you come on board with the project?
Jenn passed it on to me to head almost immediately. Kate and I worked together closely to develop it.
Love it. On your website it says you need to apply to receive a binder. How does the application process work?
We have an online application as well as a paper application that we are working to get into lgbt youth spaces throughout the country. It asks a minimal amount of questions to make sure you qualify for the program and, of course, gets your mailing information.
Are there any limitations for people to apply? Age, income, etc?
Yes. We talked about the geographical one already.
Right. US only.
In addition, we only serve people 21 and under because TransActive is a youth organization. We also ask that people only apply if they are unable to get a binder on their own. This could be because of financial limitations or because they live with unsupportive parents or the like. We also ask how people identify. We don’t have limitations based on identity, but we want to save our limited resources for people who are using binders to curb body dysphoria or to more easily present as male in daily life. We love gender play for fun and performance, but ask that people not request binders from In a Bind just to do drag.
‪Can you tell us a little about TransActive?
TransActive serves transgender and gender non-conforming children and youth. We provide counseling, education, support groups for children, teens, and adult family members. We also have advocacy services for families and youth facing roadblocks in schools, the legal system, social services, anywhere we’re needed really! Medical roadblocks are also a big one. In a Bind is a natural addition to the services we’re able to provide.
Yeah, totally! I love that y’all are doing this.
I love that you love it!
Sharing is caring! We’ve gotta help one another — because who else will help us?
Absolutely. One of the big things we’re trying to push with this program is a feeling of helping our own. This is a great way for the adult trans community to help youth. The biggest thing we need right now is donations. The applications are rolling in [to receive binders] and we need donations to help meet the need.
‪I hope everyone reading this, who are able to help, do so! Check out the In a Bind Exchange Program website for folks wanting to help, apply for binders or learn more about it.

Do you know of other binder exchange programs for trans people? OP would love to hear about it. Post the links and information in the comment section below!

Being Competitive as a Man

Chris Mosier — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 16:54:38 +0000

I am an openly trans athlete.

The moment it hit me, I had a bagel in one hand, a cup of water in the other, and a banana hanging out of my mouth. I was walking back to my bike to put things down and rest for a minute when I watched the first place woman cross the finish line. I had already finished pillaging the refreshment line when I saw her break the tape. It was the second time it had happened in three weeks, although I don’t think I made it to the bagels yet the first time. That second time it happened, however, I had a full on out of body experience – a true “is this really happening?” moment.

I am an openly trans athlete. After being profiled in The New York Times, people in interviews have often asked me if testosterone impacts performance. Obviously the answer is yes – if it did nothing to enhance performance, testosterone would not be a banned substance in so many sports. But I had not experienced a change in my own performance that was drastic enough to attribute to anything but dedication and hard training. In a sense, in my first year of taking T, I was progressing at the same rate I had been the year before, which made sense to me because I’ve only done triathlon and duathlon races for three seasons before this year.

My answers were vague before that moment of enlightenment that recently happened. “Does testosterone help performance?” Sure, it must, but only in terms of strength, because I haven’t gotten any more nimble or flexible, and I haven’t grown taller or more buoyant in the water after a year of T. So, sort of, but not much.

Racing as female before transition, I was doing well in races, and had hopes of being on the podium someday (that’s first, second, or third place, for those not so into sports). When I looked at my results overall competing as female – as I did for the first year and a half of doing triathlon – I was getting closer, but not quite there. I won my first triathlon, and was nearing the top 10 in my age group, but more often I’d finish in the top 25. However, at that time, in the male category I would have been a 40 percent type of guy – not quite middle of the pack, but not in the top quarter either. I was getting better as I figured out training, and being competitive was important to me. However, I also felt embarrassed to share my good results because they were in the female category, and that didn’t quite fit.

My first race after starting testosterone showed no improvement in my results. It was my first half Ironman race (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run) so I didn’t know what to expect, and it was also only a month after starting T; there was no considerable change in my performance. A few months later I did an Ironman race (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run) and I didn’t do well enough to give you a finish number, but I was happy with my results.

Last year, I finished 3rd place male overall in a duathlon, which was exciting, and did some other random races. I noticed a slight improvement in my running times, but not much else.

Fast forward to today, 22 months on testosterone. Another season of racing has begun and in my first race, I finished 8th place in the men’s 30-34 age group; last year I was 10th place in the same race, and I improved my time by six and a half minutes this year, which is drastic for a race that is just about an hour long. In my second race of the year – the race with the bagel/banana/water balancing act and the a-ha moment – I finished 3rd place in my age group. Podium, as they say (the real podium is top 3 overall, I think, but I still got an award for my age group). And I watched the female winner cross the finish line after I had already caught my breath.

That person breaking the tape – that was never me. I thought it could be me – or rather, I hoped and dreamed it could be me (but not in that form). I don’t want to be a middle of the pack guy, so I work extra hard to do my best. Truth be told, I expected some slight natural change in my athletic output when I began testosterone, but I have been pleasantly surprised. Not only am I still competing, but I am still competitive, and I’m doing well in one of the toughest age groups in multisport. In fact, I’m doing better competing as male than I ever did as female.

I admit: I am equal parts shocked and thrilled.

Is it the testosterone? Yes, without a doubt. In 22 months I’ve seen some changes to my body structure and muscularity. But I’ve also been racing for the past two years as well. Could my improvements be from more intelligent training, getting my coaching certification, and accumulated effects of getting better at something over time? Yes, I believe that has some influence on my current results. And could it also be the 78 days of P90X I did in the winter? (Sadly, I didn’t make it to 90 days because triathlon training started up again). Or the other strength training I’ve done? Or speed work with Empire Tri Club? Yes, yes, and yes.

Undeniably, testosterone has changed the way my body functions. I am stronger. And I assume that translates to speed and power in running and biking. But to what extent is this the result of T alone? The world may never know. I only know one other trans athlete who continues to compete, and he and I have never chatted about our experiences. But maybe we should.

In that post-race moment, I felt overwhelmed by my reality. Only 15 other guys finished the race before me. I am still competitive racing as male. I have exceeded my own expectations in regards to remaining competitive after transition. And I continue to get better.

This is really my life! And it’s the life I’ve always dreamed of living… maybe even a little faster than I had envisioned it.

[DR. T ANSWERS] Bone to Pick

Dr. T — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 16:33:56 +0000

Dr. T.

Hi Dr. T,

What, if any, are the long-term effects of taking testosterone on bone density? I’m at moderate risk for osteoporosis due to my family history, race, and stature. But would testosterone increase or lower this risk?

Thanks!
Got Milk

Dear Got Milk,

This has been an ongoing question in transgender medical treatment and literature for some time now. Let me catch other folks up to speed about osteoporosis, and then I’ll delve into your question. Osteoporosis is a bone condition characterized by impaired and weakened bone structure leading to heightened risk of fractures. In the elderly, bone fractures are associated with major declines in health/well-being and length of life. Risk of osteoporosis increases with age, and osteoporosis is much more common in non-trans women after menopause. Additionally, development of the condition in non-trans men seems to occur at a later age than in non-trans women. This is likely related, in part, to testosterone offering some sort of protection from bone weakening.

It is clear that there are differences in bone strength and density between non-trans men and women, with multiple causative factors, putting non-trans women at greater risk for osteoporosis. Estrogen plays a huge role in bone density and fracture-prevention as we age. In fact, low estrogen levels contribute to bone loss in non-trans women AND men. Additionally, testosterone may provide protection against osteoporosis due to it’s own properties, in addition to the fact that some of it gets converted into estrogen in our own bodies. With advancing age, non-trans men have a natural decline in testosterone and estrogen which puts them at risk for osteoporosis and fractures. However, studies that looked at the use of testosterone therapy to help bone mineral density in non-trans men have been inconsistent, and do not suggest that it prevents osteoporosis.

The bone health research thus far that specifically focuses on trans men is not only minimal, but innately flawed for several reasons: 1) they use a younger population (ages in the 30’s-40’s, which is generally too early to detect osteoporosis in healthy individuals without risk factors for the condition); 2) low numbers of people enrolled in the studies; 3) one looked at changes in standard deviation rather than actual risk (i.e. T-score, for those of you with more medical knowledge); 4) short duration of the studies making it impossible to assess long-term impact of testosterone on bone health; 5) generally did not separate guys with ovaries and those who had their ovaries removed; 6) did not assess for differences in bone health relative to testosterone levels. The studies have suggested that testosterone may increase bone mineral density, but whether that change is sustained, and whether it decreases fracture risk later in life, is unknown. One case series by Turner et al. (2004) did note that trans guys who were not consistently using testosterone had lower bone mineral densities.

So where do we fit in? This is a complex explanation due to the multiple factors that play a role, but I’ll cut to the most important points: Trans guys may have some protection as we age due to ongoing testosterone use. Obviously, this would not be the case if a trans guy were to stop testosterone or decrease his dose significantly, putting him at higher risk of osteoporosis. This is one reason why it is important to get testosterone levels checked periodically, especially as we start getting up there in age. Also, if a trans guy has had his ovaries removed, he must use testosterone indefinitely, otherwise he will be at high risk for decreased bone mineral density, osteoporosis, and fractures as he ages because he won’t have enough testosterone or estrogen in his body for protection.

My recommendation is that trans men without risk factors for low bone mineral density, fractures, and osteoporosis should have the regularly recommended screening at the age of 65 and above. Folks with risk factors for low bone mineral density, fractures, and osteoporosis may need to be screened before the age of 65, depending on risk factors (such as family history, history of using steroids for chronic medical conditions, and alcohol and cigarette use). Please discuss with your primary medical doctor (PCP) to see if you require earlier screening. It is important to note that there are treatments available to help strengthen your bones and treat osteoporosis.

-Dr. T.

Do you have a question about trans male health? Dr. T is a Family Physician and Psychiatrist in the Pittsburgh area. He received his medical degree in Chicago in 2009 and is currently in his residency training. He started transitioning during his 4th year of medical school and uses his trans experience/queer-identity to educate other medical professionals about quality LGBT healthcare. Please note that this blog is not to be used to address acute medical issues in place of physician care, but rather, will serve as a resource for more general questions about hormones, surgery, trans male health, and health maintenance. If you have a question for Dr. T, check out his past blogs first. If your question isn’t answered, ask away at ftmTransDoc@gmail.com.

[PIX TO PROVE IT] CHICAGO!

Amos Mac — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 16:15:59 +0000

Brontez!

Party Photos from Original Plumbing’s Sister Spit After Party / Beauty Bar / Chicago / Saturday April 14th, 2012

I must admit I was a little nervous when I walked in and saw a deeply hetero bridal shower getting their nails done right before our event was to start. Of course it only took about 10 minutes for the Beauty Bar to get flooded by queers… and I think the bridal party even stayed and enjoyed! Not that I noticed. I have no photo documentation of said “bridal party” because I was too busy swirling around and shooting all the amazingness on the dance floors. Yes, “floors.” There were two rooms, separated by the performance stage.

This party was hosted by Mx. Justin Vivian Bond (who performed as well), with sets by Rocco Katastrophe, Zebra Katz and Njena Reddd Foxxx, DJ’s Brontez Purnell (FAG School, Younger Lovers, Gravy Train!!!) and Chicago’s own Black Gold (of Queerer Park).

Can you spot the likes of Cynthia Plaster Caster and ”Mr. Transman 2010″ Kit Yan? And, like, a ton of other artists, writers, filmmakers and community people? I know you can.