No, I’m not talking about the epidemic of Christmas decorations that take over every shop, town centre and retail park the second Halloween is done with.
No, it is fast approaching TDOR or Transgender Day of Remembrance for those who don’t do acronyms. This falls on the 20th of November each year.
Basically, this is the time of year where student societies and small groups of LGBT people and allies gather in the name of all those gender non-conformists who have suffered or been killed because of their identities, while the world at large couldn’t give a shit.
We have plenty of new names to remember this year, the closest to home for me probably being Lucy Meadows, who felt she had no other option but to take her own life after a scathing character assassination in the national press by the vile social tumour, Richard Littlejohn-the-Hutt.
But how do I best spend the day? I have invites to two different events.
The first is my old University LGBT society’s annual event, which usually involves a few words, watching ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ and then something involving alcohol.
As someone who has suffered with emotional dependency on alcohol in the past, my involvement with my former LGBT soc was sadly limited, as it was more of a drinking club and meat market than a support group. Also, although I can appreciate the solemnity of the occasion, films like ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ only serve to paint us as perpetual victims.
While awareness of the abuses Trans people suffer is essential, where is the celebration of life? Where is the joy in diversity? Where are the success stories, or the narratives that show us overcoming our ‘victimhood’. I feel that TDOR needs to be more than just a Pity-fest in small groups, while the people who make life hard for us are blissfully unaware of the importance of the day.
This year is apparantly a ‘T’ party… cute!
My other option is a remembrance service at a church in a nearby town.
Now, the church have spent the last few years campaigning against the rights of LGBT people to marriage equality. They have throughout history been the driving influence behind EVERY piece of anti-LGBT discrimination in this country, whether through direct influence, or through it’s influence of it’s own members.
Now I think it’s good that this one church is opening it’s doors to the trans community, but one little service will not undo the damage it has done. If the church wishes to make it’s support for the trans community known, then it is to it’s regular parishioners that it must turn, and spread the word of unconditional love and tolerance.
Also, as an atheist, I find the idea of asking a timbered ceiling to bring some kind of solution to a very real and persistent problem, kind of insults my intelligence.
I do not mean to cast aspersions on those who have organised these events. Their hard work will no doubt help many others in need of support, and will rightly honour the brave who stood up for who they were and were cruelly taken from us as a result. These events just don’t connect with me in the way that they are supposed to.
What do I want? I don’t know.
Nothing on offer feels right. Sorrow, sadness… yes, those are right, but where is the anger? Where is the righteous, mouth frothing, placard waving “Fuck you, I have a right to not be treated like shit!” attitude. Where are the soap boxes and megaphones calling attention to all this bullshit? I guess no one is interested in that.
I sometimes feel that we are expected to be the martyrs of the LGBT movement. We are embraced and held up as examples when we suffer, but where is the rest of the community when we need them for other stuff? Seems we are only good for nailing to the cross.
Oh, and why the fuck does Richard Littlejohn STILL have his job? Had he hounded someone for being Gay or Lesbian, then he would have been fired. But then, to those outside the community, ‘another dead Tranny’ is just a statistic. Not like we’re real people or anything.