Topic: Real Life

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #103, Fall 2003.

by Deborah Greenway

It surprises many of my friends now, but I once lived in the dream of being a Baptist minister. This was in a younger, more idealistic time, before I knew the political landscape, and before I reached my current level of self-knowledge and acceptance. I?m so comfortable now with my femme self, Deborah, that I will go anywhere, any time, and not give it a second thought. Recently, the day came to return to a place preserved in memory, to meet it as it exists in reality today?as my current self?and to proclaim peace. Traveling east through Kansas, the driving is fast, and daydreaming is easy for someone who spent a good portion of life in the area. It?s that time of year when the trees are budding, and you know it?s spring. A spotty, light rain is falling. When we reach Missouri, the terrain gets more interesting?there are hills and a plethora of billboard signs, apparently sponsored by local churches?Christians Obey!!!! this or that selected Bible verse, hopeful attempts at 60-mph roadside conversions, or perhaps an effort to keep the unruly masses in line. The billboards continue, and so does the rain.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #103, Fall 2003.

Part 1 of 2: Melbourne Photographs by Mariette Pathy Allen Text by Katharine Coleman

Mariette was invited to speak at the Fifth International Congress on Sex and Gender, which was held at the University of Western Australia in Perth, October 24-27, 2002?but one doesn?t spend twentysome hours flying just to visit the most remote city in Australia. Such an investment of time justified stopovers in Melbourne and Sydney?all of which Mariette would have done solo had her command of Australian been up to par. But it wasn?t, and since I spoke the language and had a bad case of wanderlust, she let me go along.

Once word got out that Mariette was coming to Australia, she was asked to also speak in Melbourne and Sydney. These occasions, along with the conference in Perth, provided wonderful opportunities to witness different aspects of the transgender communities in Australia. Our experience in each of these cities was different, so we decided to generate two articles?this one on Melbourne, and another on the conference in Perth and the Gay Games in Sydney.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #102, Summer 2003.

by Michelle Dixon

When I called myself a crossdresser, I would have dressed in fancy clothes if I had the money; however, I?ve been on an limited income for years. In the late 80s, the internal pressure to dress in public was intense. I adopted a mode of dress I called walking the line. I wore simple, solid tunic tops that could go either way. A few skirts, and I had a femme wardrobe.

I wore inexpensive gold-tone or silver neck chains bought at flea markets. It was a simple task to cut neck chains down to fit my wrists. This was all part of my walking the line wardrobe.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #102, Summer 2003.

by Catherine Lynn Andrews

The difference between those born in the mid-1940s and those born in the mid-1960s is an important one. Until recently, the existence of the older group was relatively unknown (to me anyway), as they were not vocal and just blended into the larger transgender community. The realization that this was a significant group came to me during a late evening discussion on Wednesday at the 2002 IFGE conference in Nashville. As I sat at a table in the bar enjoying the music of Donna Frost, a new acquaintance approached me. We had met earlier in the day and had spoken briefly at the social. "Can we chat for a moment?" she began, as she slipped into a chair across from me. "I have a feeling we have something more in common than crossdressing." She was elegant and well-mannered, with an easy feminine presence that seemed to come toher naturally. "Of course," I replied, mustering all the casual response I could as I concealed my concern that she was implying I appeared to be a deviant of some kind. "Let me tell you about myself," she began.

Originally appeared in Transgender Tapestry #99, Fall 2002.

by Debra A. Johnson

When I was 15, my stepmother told me I would never be the man my father was. I spent the next 37 years trying to prove her wrong. After so many years of practicing manhood, how do you persuade others you really are a woman?