Boston Pride 2008

My third Pride Parade was really nice and felt really good. It wasn’t wild and crazy, but was happy and warm and…proud.

I’d gone to bed the night before at 2:00 am, just from usual sleeplessness, but was feeling so wiped out that I vowed to just sleep as late as I could, up to a full eight hours for once. Incredibly, I did it then. I managed to doze soundly enough that I felt I was getting productive rest right up until 10:00 am. Still, I was feeling a little slow and took my time showering and getting dressed. Official line up time was 11:15. Ha, no way. I ended up at the head of the parade about 12:30, just at the moment it began to start. This turned out to be perfect for me. I got to see it start, I got to see the motorcycle clubs, the official banner, and then a number of parade entries in quick succession as I walked quickly in the opposite direction. Moments later then, I spotted MTPC and jumped in with them.

Honestly, at this point I was still dragging. I know I still had a long face and no pep in my walk. I was happy to see Sally marching with the group and walked and chatted with her for a bit. It didn’t take but a few minutes though, before the infectious excitement in the air started waking me up. Interestingly, this energy was coming mostly from the crowd lining the sidewalks. The spectators were all cheering and waving. How can you not be touched by that? I was awake now, smiling ear to ear, making eye contact with as many people as I could, waving and saying, “Happy Pride!” I know the parade was long, but it seemed like it just flew by and was over in no time. It turned out to be a total rush. There were diversions. I talked to a couple of people here and there. Sally handed me her camera at two points and I attempted a few pictures. I carried a sign for a while.

At government center, I turned in my sign and then Sally and I waited for Ashley and Sisters that were with the Fenway float. Parade entries just kept streaming by and we couldn’t believe how long the parade was. They showed up eventually. Ashley, LiLLi, Caroline, another girl I didn’t know. We made friendly hellos and then I kind of got distracted with a guy that approached our group, intrigued, and struck up a conversation. The sisters group was headed off to rest their feet I think; I was planning to do the simple routine of wandering the vendor booths then watching the festivities on the stage. But this guy and I still weren’t quite done talking. Sally, always prepared, handed me a walkie talkie and said to call her later and we could meet up again. Isn’t she the coolest?

So this guy was fascinating for his interest in us. I think he was straight, and was simply a spectator, but for some reason really wanted to understand us. Answering his questions but trying not to digress into things he wasn’t asking, I bet I spent twenty minutes with him, ultimately giving him a pretty fair “Transgender 101″ overview by the time he had satisfied his curiosity. Ambassador Sonia.

Vendor booths didn’t take too long. I didn’t want to pick up and then have to carry a bunch of literature. Didn’t have anything I wanted to buy. I just kind of wanted to see what all was there. The political tables were right in front so I stopped and said hello to Carl Sciortino, since I had met him just the night before and thought it would be fun if he remembered my face. Of course he did. Politicians are amazing. I spent a few minutes in the Bisexual Resource Center booth, looking at a new book they had, and looking at all the fun buttons they have. I sat for a bit in the MTPC booth and talked with Michelle. Ready to watch the festival then, I found a space to sit close to stage…in the sun again. Well, I had a giant bucket of lemonade I’d bought for $5, and had SPF 55 on again, and it seemed ok for a while anyway… Luckily for me, I suppose, it wasn’t but a few minutes that my cutie pie friend Terri appeared, greeting me and saying, “boy, you like to sit in the sun, don’t you!” commenting obliquely that perhaps I hadn’t learned my lesson last week at Northampton. We stayed for just a bit before I agreed that yeah, we should sit in the shade.

So we found this nice bench in the shade, still with the stage behind us. Everything was just perfectly pleasant. The temperature, the shade. We could hear everything from the stage clearly, but it wasn’t annoyingly loud. There was this amazing stream of people to watch. I’d radioed Sally when I was done with the vendors. She said she’d be on her way to find me soon, and it wasn’t too long before I spotted her searching for me. I jumped up and pulled her over to our bench. The three of us then just had the best time talking and people watching. Kate wandered by at one point distributing literature. One group of girls had a snake that they were happy to pass around. I was the only one that held it, but a few people wanted to pet it while I held it.

I was back in Harvard Square by 5:00, feeling melancholy that I wasn’t up for a night of drinking a bit and then dancing until dawn. I was also overdue for food. I’d had a light breakfast and that lemonade and that was it for the day. Comfort food was in order and I went to Uno Pizza and got the Chicago Classic. It was comforting because I just knew that if I could taste it, it would taste really good. The woman next to me stuck up a conversation after a while. I explained the tracheostomy and the cancer. She asked about my day and I told her about the parade and friends. “Oh darn! I wish I would have known. I would have gone to that.” She repeated this and seemed genuinely sad that she had missed it. I talked about it a bit more and asked what her day had been like. “Honestly, I spent most of it here” she confessed. I told her I missed drinking. I thought to myself, “uh huh, if not off of alcohol, I’d probably just sit there for the rest of the evening myself.” As it was, I’d choked down the pizza and paid my tab. I explained, “in another life, I’d sit and drink with you, but I gotta run” and walked out.

Pride 2008

One last night with Sisters of Boston

Ok, so a quick check in my journal reveals that September 11 was the last time I appeared at Sisters of Boston. It’s an interesting numerological coincidence then, that it turned out to be the 11th of April, seven months later, when I reappeared. The first two of those seven months were spent with me simply burned out on making the two hour trek to the meeting location. The last five months I had other problems. All this time, I’d missed it. I’d missed meeting so many new girls, missed the fun of seeing their giddy excitement, missed the fun of going out dancing. So I was all ready to return. I just needed the courts to set me free. They did so Friday afternoon and I was in my groove again.

Home from work, I decided to go to Sisters dressed just in work clothes, but with a little makeup, with which I so rarely grace my coworkers these days. Knowing there would be dancing later, I packed a miniskirt and a barrette, and was out the door at 6pm. The Red Line and Orange Line were both miraculously waiting for me to step onto without breaking my stride and I got to Wellington in 40 minutes, with 20 minutes still to spare before the 7pm bus to Woburn. 40 more minutes later, it dropped me a block from the hotel where Sisters meets, and I walked in the door actually being the first Sister to arrive for the evening.

I was amused that as a supposed leader within this group, I had to stop at the hostess stand and explain that I was looking for Sisters of Boston, that it was my first time there, and so on. With a bit of nervousness (that I ignored at the moment) she said I could have a seat at the bar. “Do you serve food at the bar?” “Oh yes, of course.” “Wonderful” I looked happy to have things settled. She relaxed and smiled. At the bar, the two girls next to me looked so darned familiar! I hate it when that happens! I didn’t ask though. I got no look of recognition from them, so I just let it go. I ordered a rum and coke and pizza and sat and did my usual bar thing. Sometimes I would look up at the TVs, but really I didn’t care to watch whatever was there. Really, right in front of me was just mirror, rather than a TV. The mirror showed how meager my prospects were of blending at this place. Now, my sense was that it didn’t have anything to do with me being trans. Rather, I was very obviously a Cambridge-ite, far from Cambridge. Black hair, black cat eye glasses…

Omg! I hadn’t written yet about my new glasses. In a night of drunken confusion at the indescribably cluttered home where I live, my last pair of contacts got thrown out with the dishwater somehow. I was blind and forced to return to the optician and get new glasses. I got these really great (and really expensive ) cat eye frames that are very femmie, and also a little something like geek, punk, or retro, I don’t know what.

Where was I? Yes, hair, glasses, and hot pink and black layered tops. *sigh* So I exchanged polite smiles with people around me, listened obviously to stories told in voices loud enough to advertise that they were fair game for anyone who cared to listen, and that was about it. It was cool. It reminded me somewhat of the time that I waited alone for Danielle once at a TGIF. In both cases, it was obviously the local, after work crowd where lots of people knew each other. Don’t be an ass, and you’re welcome too no problems. Come again another time, learn the bartender’s name, chat a few people up, come again, and you’re a regular–no matter how you dress. Acceptance isn’t automatic in the ‘burbs, but it can be earned.

For tonight though, I was just waiting for friends. My pizza had just arrived when, watching in the bar mirror, I recognized Caroline walk in. She had no chance of recognizing the back of my head, but after getting settled in the bar area herself, getting something cold to drink, and unwinding a bit, she finally read me as trans and walked over to confirm her suspicions. Still not recognizing me, she guessed I must be the new girl expected to visit from Maine that night. “Hello, are you Paula?” “No,” I said, smiling ear to ear and standing up. At this point, I think words failed her as her eyes were telling her something she thought impossible. “Caroline!” I said, and gave her a big hug. We talked excitedly for a few minutes, and that kind of set the tone for the whole night. I got to see old friends Jackie, Deedee, Sally, LiLLi, Kristen, Steffanie, Mike, Jean, and of course Ashley. I got to meet this new Paula from Maine, and also Corrine, Holly, Madison, and Mitzzy, some of whom I knew of and had been dying to meet. Blame it on the soybeans, but when Jean walked in, I was so overcome with emotion that I started crying and couldn’t stop without going to the restroom.

I’ll save my restroom rant for a separate post and mention that we went from Tony Pilla’s to Pearl, for the lesbian dance club experience that apparently the girls are addicted to now. Riding in Deedee’s car on the way over, I peeled off my pink and black tops and replaced only the black one, pulled my hair back neatly with the large barrette, replaced my ankle-length denim skirt with a mini with outdoorsy-inspired details, and took off my goofy striped toe socks. I’d gone from geek girl to urban club girl in a few minutes. Deedee hardly batted an eye. She’d seen my Sisters Friday routine many times before.

At Pearl, sadly, I didn’t recognize anyone I knew (other than Sisters, of course.) I’d been away too long Dancing was fun though, as usual. I felt very out of practice and awkward on the floor, and I couldn’t dance for more than one or two songs at a time with my breathing problems, but that was no problem with this group. I especially liked dancing with Madison, who, very high on gender euphoria, smiles ear to ear the whole time. Nn, also at Pearl, a girl named Sarah (I think) visiting from Germany(!) caught up with us. I had fun dancing with her as well. Gosh, so young and pretty, and having such a hard time understanding anything I said!

I danced until 1:30, then left the group to go catch up with Deedee at RISE. On the way I stopped for food at 7 Eleven and had much of it to finish yet when I arrived at RISE. I stood on the street and people watched. A group of four guys and one girl was also hanging out on the sidewalk outside RISE. One started in my direction and the others grabbed him and pulled him back, saying things like “uh uh, just let it go.” We all watched with amusement as some people went inside to find out what the place was all about came scurrying right back out. Done with my dinner, I walked around the corner to drop my trash in a bin, walked right through the middle of group outside the door, and disappeared inside. “Hi, I’ve been away for a while…” “You certainly have!” the doorman said. “…and my membership has long expired…” I started to explain. He already had a guest ticket in his hand. “Oh thank you!” I exclaimed, and scampered up the stairs, imagining puzzlement of the group outside that I didn’t come back out. Inside, I did find Deedee before long. Also saw Mandy, but as Deedee explained, most other faces I would have known from last year had moved on and were gone from RISE. The group from outside showed up before long. The guy that had started toward me on the sidewalk watched me dance and the expression on his face said “huh, I guess you do belong.” Deedee and I danced, talked, and were both tired relatively early. I think we left about 4:00.

Sure was good to be back.

Sonia Pride

Saturday was Pride, and omg, what an experience. It was special to me because it was my first time to march in a Pride Parade, and only my second time to even see one. Last year at this time I was kind of just exploring queer…space. I had been living with Al and Paul for a few months, I had been trying on a bisexual identity, I had been to Jacque’s a couple of times, I had seen my first drag kings. Pretty sure I didn’t know the difference between the word meanings of “sex” and “gender.” Pretty sure I didn’t know the word “transwoman.” I went to the parade and watched in awe of the diversity of it all, and was vaguely aware that part of the diversity was trans- something or other. I’d head that the trans people were having a thing at some church, and I felt strangely intrigued, but…I put it out of my mind as not me, not my culture. Heck, I didn’t even know any trans people, didn’t know anything about them. I had no business crashing their picnic or whatever it was.

Here, one year later, I was two months into cross living and was marching with the Massachusetts Transgender Political Coallition. I found our group lining up before the start of the parade and Gunner was handing out signs and banners for people to carry. “Um, did you have leaflets to hand out?” I asked? He looked down at my 5 1/2″ heels and smiled and asked if I was sure. I was. Omg…it was great. Not only was I wearing Meredith’s vintage platform heels, I was wearing Steffenie’s pink polka dot dress. I looked spectacular, if I do say so myself, which was perfect for the spectacle of me running–yes, running like a maniac–non-stop over the course of the whole parade. I believe I handed out over 500 leaflets. After the parade, Sally and I walked around the Pride festival a bit. We sat down in front of the stage just in time to see Lisa Jackson performing. We got snacks from one of the vendors. I bought a t-shirt. Both of us ran into people we knew. It was all so cool, so nice. I said goodbye to Sally then because I had signed up to work at the MTPC booth in the afternoon. Our mission was to collect names and addresses to support HR1722 and wow, I couldn’t believe how fast we collected names. The final count was over 2000. So, Pride was fun, I was right in the middle of it, and…doing something useful even!

Token goth girl

Friday was Sisters, of course, and I was expecting that we were going to XMortis again, so for the third evening in a row, I was dressed like a young radical. Somehow though, no one else seemed to get that memo, and my black leather, fishnets, and white-out makeup ended up contrasting dramatically with everyone else’s happy spring pastels and cheery summer primaries. Needless to say, we didn’t go to XMortis. We returned to Jury instead, where I was wasn’t even sure they would let me in dressed like I was. One way to find out! I strutted in on my 5″ heels like I was defining the dress code, and I got nothing but positive attention.

HB 1722 lobby day

I took Tuesday off of work for the lobby day. We lobbied legislators at the state house to support Massachusetts House Bill 1722 which would provide legal protections statewide for transgenders. It was a fascinating day. I’m really very ignorant about all things political, I barely know the language, I hadn’t really done my homework for lobbying. Yet, supposedly it was most important for ordinary people like me to just show up and tell in our own words why the bill was important to us. Here, unlike Youth Pride and the Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, I found my family. There were of course people I knew from MTPC, but also a number of CDs and TSs that I knew from various circles. Most fun was finding Sally and Michelle. The three of us ended up sticking together for the day. We combined our lists of legislators and just ran from office to office as a group of three, all of us seeing everyone on our combined lists. And…it felt good! We didn’t always know what to say, but we did tell our stories over and over, and we did show our faces in a dozen different offices. Everyone else there seemed to be doing about the same! Gunner’s estimate for attendance that got published in the media was 120. I would have guessed quite a bit more than that. I told a few people that I thought there closer to 300 in the auditorium when we started, but hey, I didn’t try to count, that was just my wild guess.

Lobbying was over by 12:30, Sally and I had taken the day off of work, so we spent the afternoon just being girls. We walked down to Charles street and had a nice lunch at the Paramount, then spent quite a bit of time browsing boutiques along Charles street. We were about to say good bye when I decided I would shop for shoes (with my alcohol money!) in Downtown Crossing next. Sally was a trooper and wanted to come. I did find shoes, but, crazy as it sounds, all I bought were some very inexpensive canvas slip ons. Somehow nothing was grabbing me. Only the slip ons were easy to buy because they were cheap and functional, and I thought a little bit cute. Just as we were finishing up shopping, I got a phone message. It was Dorothy’s Boutique. My wig was in! Sally was nice enough to drop me off at Dorothy’s. I picked up the wig. What a great day!

GNO-Boston

Early to bed Thursday, lots of sleep, and in the morning I felt worse. Cough, sniffles, I called in sick for a second day. I also swore off dancing for the weekend, not only because of the cold, but also because I had spent all my money last weekend and was really broke until next weekend. Problem was, I couldn’t miss Girls’ Night Out that night. A “business meeting” had been arranged where we would supposedly discuss an array of recent issues that were making people unhappy. I started getting ready for the evening. When I got out of the tub, Tony had called. Oh, oh, Tony! Why had I never thought of this before? He lives near me and might be able to give me a ride to GNO. Called him, he agreed. He picked me up and it was really nice to have the time together on drive up there for conversation. He is SO nice. Omg, I’ve sworn off love for now, but I could so see myself with him. Crazy, crazy, crazy, hmm? *sigh* Life’s complicated.

At GNO, there was a good crowd of friends, a small amount of time for socializing, then the night fell to the business meeting. The meeting marked the end of GNO-Boston for all practical purposes. One of leaders is bitter with the other leader, and with almost all of the active members over various issues. She is also not interested in doing all the work that would be required to assume full leadership. She seems ready to take her ball and go home. Coincident with this, our leaders tell us that our group has been kicked out of hotel bar and asked not to return. Over the last week or two, as these conflicts have come to a head, the normal banter of posts on the Yahoo message list has all but ceased. So lets see, we have, two leaders who can’t work together, one who is refusing to work and refusing to let the other work, we have no meeting place, no plans for further meetings, and zero activity on the public mailing list. It’s dead.

Five months. August 4, 2006, I walked out the door of my house for the first in my life dressed as a woman. I went to GNO that evening, and have gone back almost every Friday since. GNO was my primary support for the first five months of my life as Sonia. The regulars were my immediate family, my older sisters, whom I looked up to as examples to follow, and who watched over me, gently offering advice and occasional cautions as needed. It was my school, where I threw myself into my studies. It was my church, my playground, my Cheers, where everybody knew my name. No, no, that last is a weak analogy. See, it can only be cool to have a bar where everybody knows your name if you can contrast that with the rest of your life where presumably, people didn’t always know your name. I, as Sonia, have had no other life. I really came into existence within GNO, and have lived my whole life of five months there. A better analogy is that it was my childhood home. January 5, 2007, my sisters and I walked out the door for the last time. The house now sits abandoned.

Some of us might be devastated, but for the work of Ashley Bottoms, who has built a new home for us, virtually overnight. We have a new Yahoo group, a new meeting place, new rules, and many lessons learned from experience. I’ll have only the fondest memories of GNO, there’s no time for sadness–we move into our new home this Friday, that is, with no loss of continuity in our Friday gatherings at all. How amazing is that? How amazing is Ashley? How amazing is life?

Life does go on. A group of us left the hotel that night, piled into Sally’s van, and ended up at Flash’s for drinks. Most girls had never been there. When the line at Toast looked longer than what we were willing to endure, someone asked if anyone knew anything about Flash’s? (Yes, I know, they’re nowhere near each other, but this person must have heard that it was a place that might be TG-friendly.) “Sure!” I piped up. “I’ve been there lots of times. People go there after Jacque’s closes, so they’re used to seeing us.” We went, got seated at a large table in the middle of the room, were well treated by both staff and patrons, and had a great time. When it was time to leave, my willpower failed and I succumbed to my addiction. See, Flash’s is next door to Rise. Sniffles or not, I couldn’t resist the dance music.

I have one great story to tell from that night. I passed for someone! Gosh, I love this story, I must have told it to a dozen people over the last couple of days. I danced for an hour or so at the beginning of the night, then sat down on a bench to drink a bottle of water. A guy came and plopped down next to me. “Oh shit” he said, wiping his face. “Oh come on” I said, assuming that the reason for his exclamation was that he’d been dancing as hard as I had and needed to catch his breath, “the night is young!” He agreed, then hesitated, then blurted out the real reason for his exclamation. “I thought you were a chick out there! But now you’re a guy.” My face lit up like I’d gotten what I wanted for Christmas. “Oh thank you!!! You have no idea what a compliment that is for me! You see, I’m just learning, so I’m so happy that my dancing looked that good!” That gave him time to regroup his thoughts, and he turned out to be a cool friend for the night. We danced on and off over the rest of the night and had a good time together.

Lynn sees me dressed for the first time

My last journal entry ended with me worrying about Friday night. How silly could I be? Friday, Saturday, and Sunday all turned out fantastic. It was an awesome weekend of fun.

Planning started Friday during the day with a flurry of emails between me, Lynn, and her coworkers, Yeime and Rhonda. The emails involved me rescheduling, then canceling, my nail appointment in Davis Square so that the four of us could get our nails done together downtown before having drinks and dinner. In the salon, we all started to pick out polish colors and Yeime said to me, “I guess you’re getting clear?” I said, “Oh Yeime, you don’t know me” and flashed my then rose painted nails for her to see. There was some waiting time then and I kept threatening to Lynn that I was going to change. She was saying no, I was suggesting a vote. In all the conversation, Lynn let enough slip in front of the other girls that one of them finally just asked me if I dressed. I told them that I had two changes of clothes in my bag and the vote was over—they wanted to meet Sonia.

Our nails all shiny, we walked around the corner to the Silvertone lounge. We got cocktails at the bar and put in our name for a table. After a little bit of conversation, my mind was wandering and I couldn’t focus on the conversation. I interrupted, “Ladies, I’m going to the restroom, and…I’ll be a while.” Problem was, the restrooms were just single person restrooms, so I was going to hold up the line for as much time as it took me. I locked the door, stripped off boy clothes and put on girl clothes as fast as I could, then there was a knock at the door. I let Yeime in and she said they got the table already. It wasn’t ideal then, to go out without makeup and without even brushing out the hair, but it was probably best as there was already someone waiting for the restroom. Of course the girls loved me, the wait staff loved me. We ordered food and I excused myself again to go finish up. This time using the ladies room instead of the men’s room, I did the minimum work I could bear to do and worked fast as I could. I started with only things for which I either wanted privacy or needed the mirror, then yielded the room and finished in the hallway outside the restroom door. A few minutes later I rejoined the group feeling so much better. We had a nice little dinner but we’d killed so much time that I’d long since missed my last bus to Woburn and Lynn was now in danger of missing her train home. Cab ride for both of us then to North Station, Lynn’s train was boarding when we arrived, my train to Winchester (the closest stop to Woburn) was leaving in ten minutes, just enough time for me to use the restroom.

Getting a cab from Winchester to Woburn was an ordeal. Cabs in the suburbs just suck. That’s all there is to it. I got to GNO eventually though, everyone was still there, and I even had a little time left to socialize. The best part of GNO though, was going dancing at Machine. Now with a few hours of dancing at Rise under my belt, I felt much more confident on the dance floor and could just relax and have the best time. I dirty danced with Jean, danced with Tami, danced a little bit with some of the other girls in our group, and danced lots with Sally. She was was great because she was happy to just stay out on the floor and dance, dance, dance. I danced briefly with a number of other people that were just there at Machine and not part of our group, including Miss Behaving, whom I recognized but had never actually spoken to. She’s full of silliness and after we danced I said in a playful scolding tone, “you are misbehaving.” She laughed that her reputation had preceded her.

Leaving Machine at 2am, I had five dollars in my pocket and was hoping to get the last $20 out of my account at an ATM along the way to rise, since I needed food, drink, caffeine to keep going, and $10 to get in the door at rise. A cab was obviously out of the question. I got a ham and cheese sandwich and a Vault with the five, then found an ATM. It showed my paycheck had cleared. I was so happy I wanted to hug the security guard. I got cash and bounced up the sidewalk finishing my lunch and not even stopping to think that I could have gotten that cab if I wanted.

Inside Rise, I found Deedee on the couch with her limbs all tangled with Julie’s. I waved hello meekly, and probably should have walked on quickly, but I hesitated a moment and they invited me to sit with them. Then, well, I danced for hours. At 5:30, Deedee was ready to go. I told her I’d walk her out, but that I wanted to stay for the last hour. I’m sure she thought I was crazy, but I was feeling good, there was still a lively crowd, and the music was great.