Transgender Day of Remembrance
A Vigil honoring lives lost due to Transgender Violence

"Be the change you wish to see in the world"
   --- Mahatma Gandhi

Yesterday was the Transgender Day of Remembrance.  It is a somber day - a time to remember the people whose lives were abruptly and brutally taken during the previous year for no other reason than the fact that someone was filled with enough hate to take the thing that's most valuable to each of us.  I'd like to share a few thoughts...

The vigil here on the grounds of the State Capitol in Phoenix was very well attended and organized, and kudos go to Margaux Shaffer for her tireless efforts.  I remember a discussion with her shortly after last year's disappointing event, where she explained a vision of a more inclusive event that would bring together any number of diverse communities.  She took the lead in this regard, and I think last night's turnout of well over 100 people is proof that her vision and her efforts have proven worthwhile.  She poured significant hours and efforts into making this event the best it could be, established a website that I'd argue is second to none anywhere in the world (www.azdor.org) in support of this event, and spent her own money on the many things that needed to be done to make this happen.  Margaux rocks. (See some images from the event here).

We had a wonderful line-up of speakers.  Margaux spoke eloquently about the meaning of the event.  State Representative Kyrsten Sinema was her usual wonderful (and fabu!!) self in helping people understand the real issues involved.  I had an opportunity to provide my thoughts.  Dr. Becky Allison talked passionately about disposable people, and disposable lives.  Rev. David Ragan from No Longer Silent provided a poignant faith based perspective, where he apologized for the fact that much of this hate is borne out of religion.  He was wonderful.  And, several others whose names I can't remember provided important, powerful messages.  At the end we read a short bio of each victim until 28 people carrying candles - each representing a life that was taken - lined the sidewalk in front of the Capitol. 

I think the most significant thing I can say about the effort is that, for the first time, the emotion I feel he day after isn't disappointment over the overall apathy I've seen at past events.  It's not frustration with the inability to engage our community as a community.  It's not anger that dozens of people will show up for a Halloween party, but only a handful of people will show up for something as important as this.  Finally, those emotions have given way to something much more productive.  Finally, I feel hope.

One of the most tragic stories coming from this year's vigil is the death of Ronnie Paris, Jr. - a young boy who was beaten to death by his father because he wasn't masculine enough - because his father was afraid he'd grow up to be a "sissy".  He hit this young child in the head to the point that he'd start crying, which would invite more beating, which would eventually make the child shake uncontrollably, and vomit.  The child was taken into foster care last year but was returned to the family this past June.  Less than six weeks later, the child suffered a beating so severe he lapsed into a coma, his brain swelled due to the terrible trauma, and he died.  He was only 3 years old.

Do you think this child had any sense of masculine or feminine?  Hell no.  I'm sure this child couldn't even pronounce the word "transgender", much less understand what it means.  But here we are, in 250 cities around the country, remembering his life and his death because someone was so insecure in themselves that they felt the need to inflict their insecurity on others.  They killed a defenseless, innocent child.  There can be no justification.  There can be no reason for senseless things like this.  But, I think this horrific situation highlights the world we're living in. 

How can that change?  How can we save other young children from similar fates?  I tell you here and now that the way to change these kinds of things is NOT to sit idly by.  We cannot let the message of fear that others would use to keep us down force us into hiding.  We cannot abandon people whose lives were taken simply because they were different in a world that fears what it can't understand, and that punishes what it fears.  What we need to do is to speak out - in one united, clear, unified voice - that this must stop.  We won't allow these lives to be lost in vain - forgotten by a society that would sweep them under the rug.  These people are not statistics - they are lives.  They are brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, vibrant living people who had hopes and dreams.  And, in very real sense, they could be any one of us.

I've slowly come to understand that the greatest threat to our community, to any community, isn't apathy.  It's fear.  It's the fear so many of us feel at the prospect of exposing our true selves - whatever that truth might be - to an intolerant and cruel world.  It's the fear we feel at speaking up against injustice in a world that somehow seems to promote a mob mentality - to justify violence and brutality.  And, the legacy I think I'd most like to leave is about the courage it takes to truly be yourself - not hiding out of fear of discovery - but boldly and proudly.  I can't think of anything more important for any of us to leave behind - and, I can't think of anything more critical to overcoming the violence and the brutality that threatens to keep us in hiding.

I had hoped that a number of people, some of whom purport to be leaders in our local community, would be there last night.  But they weren't.  They had other things to do.  They found reasons to NOT be there.  And, whereas in years past that would anger me I'm pretty much past that now.  Disappointed?  Yes.  Angry?  No.  But, you know what?  These people are not leaders.  There is a price for leadership.  Leadership involves living Mahatmi Gandhi's quote each and every day - about being the change you want to see in the world.  It may not be convenient.  It's certainly not easy.  And, it's certainly not always safe.  But, I think each of us needs to evaluate people who would profess to be "leaders" and question whether the direction that they would lead is really a direction that anybody wants to follow. Each of us needs to remember that we're as accountable for the things we don't do as for the things we do.

Do I expect the world to change overnight?  Certainly not.  I'm not naive enough to think that the number of people we honor each year will go down significantly in my lifetime.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to see it rise - as others see that these brutal tactics aren't working.  But, at the same time, I expect that the number of people who choose to live authentic lives - to stand up proudly to be themselves - will far surpass those who would brutalize us.  I envision each of us as a candle, lighting those whose lives we touch who, in turn, go out an light the flames of the people in their own lives.  Each of us is a testament to beauty and truth and freedom, and the only way we can allow those things to be taken is to give them away. 

Do I expect laws to change this?  Not really.  To me, laws represent the value system of the people in power.  The fact that any of us has to justify ourselves - to argue that our lives are worthwhile, to be included in laws that would punish those who would hurt us - is a sad commentary on the people running America right now.  This is a country that purports to be a leader, but I'm sorry to say that any country that would allow it's most vulnerable people to be brutalized and killed without making efforts to protect them is NOT a leader.  It is fundamentally broken.  It' is misguided.  That's what I see.  I see an America that challenges people to celebrate difference, to "be all you can be", but at the same time it judges those things in each and every one of us.  It dehumanizes us.  It demonizes us.  And, in the end, it turns it back on us when we're brutalized. 

If you can do that - if you can find a reason to sit by when you see injustice in any form - I would challenge that somewhere, somehow, you've lost something important. You've lost a part of your humanity and that conveniently seems to be okay.  That's what happens.  And, to those who would challenge people like me as selfish, as morally broken, as delusional I challenge you right back to look into the mirror and take a long, deep, hard look at what you see.  If all you see is a blank set of eyes looking back I doubt anything can rekindle whatever light has been extinguished.  All I can do is implore you to try.  Because, if you do, I think you'll find the spirit that makes each of us special, and real, and truly human is still there.

The change we need to see will not come through laws, although laws will help.  It will come through a change in the culture.  It will come by people stepping up and stepping out - living in a  freedom where fear is not the prime motivator.  It will come by people demonstrating that there is nothing to fear in being different. It will come by celebrating our lives and our deaths - and by making a statement that "We will not forget!".  We will never forget.  Each of these lives lost is part of a re-awakening of social consciousness that will change this world.  Each of these voices remain alive in each of us.  And, as more and more of us attend these events - as we acknowledge our support for the real freedom for people to be themselves at home, in their workplaces, in their streets, with their friends and families - their voices remain alive and strong in this world.

So, whereas I approach these events with sadness at the tragic brutality and violence people force upon other people each and every day, I finally leave them with hope.  Courage is contagious.  I know that the people there last night felt it - they felt the power in our collective spirit.  Young and old.  Gay, Lesbian, Bi, and straight.  Transgender or not.  We are a tapestry of humanity.  We are testament to the power o the human spirit.  And, I'm confident that each of us will spread the light of that spirit in our lives.  We will not be extinguished.  And, in the end, our legacy will be one of truth and hope.  I can't think of anything more worthwhile.

* * * *