TRANSGENDERED PRIDE
By Nancy Cain

On Saturday, June 10, 1995, I took what I consider to be my first baby steps into the world. I marched in the Pride Parade in Boston, with several other people of gender. The experience was both compelling and moving. The feeling of walking through the streets of Boston with crowds cheering us on was dizzying. Jolenne Stanley and Joanie Sessions were there. It was both my and Joanie's first time. Even more amazing was a person from Worcester, named Joy. The parade was her first time... ever!! Jolenne and I stared at her bug eyed, and Jolenne said, "You didn't have to do this first; you could have gone to a store or restaurant!" I was very impressed with her courage and determination to be out there in the real world.

My adventure started earlier that morning when I left from my wife's daughter's house in Malden to drive to the "T" station. I was very nervous about this, even though I've ridden the "T" lots of times before (but never as Nancy!). The trip was basically uneventful, but the tension served to keep my mind off the parade and all its implications. As I emerged from the "T" stop at Back Bay and started walking toward the Hancock Tower the magnitude of my actions slowly started to hit me. "Oh my God - there'll probably be news coverage of this -- will anyone recognize me -- how do I handle it if they do -- etc."

Before I became consumed with paranoia, I found the group and at once felt comfortable to see familiar faces. We were carrying signs with various sayings on them, and the banner simply said Transgender Pride. At one point the person carrying one side of the banner asked me if I would spell her because her arm was tired, so I did. I kept looking out into the crowds, thinking there must have been people I know there. Unfortunately, all the faces blurred together and I was unable to focus on any particular face, so I just smiled and waved as the cheering went on.

At the end of the parade was a sort of fairground setup with food booths, informational tables, and a stage where various groups and people were performing. All I wanted to do was drink something cold and sit down! After staking out a shady spot and resting for a while, we went wandering around. We ran into many people we knew and met some new ones in the process. The entire day was beautiful -- the weather, the people, and most importantly, the experience.

Up until this time I have been going out regularly to restaurants, various transgendered events, club meetings, and bars. I've even gone to the mall on a few occasions. I don't mean to play down my past exploits, which have been rewarding in their own way, but I have been looking to build on these previous adventures and be proud of what I am. I am not necessarily an activist, although I do have strong feelings about transgenderism. As my friend Cally said to me recently while we were discussing the subject of passing (and I paraphrase), "It isn't so much that we get read, because we all get read whether we realize it or not; out challenge is to learn to be read gracefully." That single statement had great impact on me.

Most of the places I have been to, particularly gay clubs, have left me feeling empty. I usually enjoy the company of my friends, talking about our lives and whatnot, but having to do so while screaming over bad Karioke or loud music has taken its toll on me. I'd much rather get together with a small group in a restaurant to enjoy the company of friends. In many respects, this is much more rewarding and challenging for me. In a gay bar, everybody typically has your number anyway, so what's the point of going? In their eyes, what separates us from the drag queens, aside from the fact that we're typically more conservative?

It comes back to getting read gracefully. To return a comment or jeer with a smile, to be noticed, to make other people aware that we exist -- that we are human, just like them, that we aren't all guests on Geraldo, that we are what we are -- is an education for them and for us. Each of us is a representative of the others like us, no matter where we fall on the gender spectrum.

The one thing that I found unfortunate about the parade was that there were three or four groups marching under different transgendered banners. I thought this was unfortunate because each of us tends to be a loner to a certain extent, and our personalities and personal agendas can override a show of solidarity. Any minority group is prone to this - undirected anger directed at each other gives the appearance of disorganization and disunity. It's difficult for any group of people to rally to a cause, but it is imperative that we do it. Members of a family may fight among themselves, but if threatened they will band together to fight a common enemy. This, although a dysfunctional view, is at least presenting a face of unity, that there really is a common cause. Are we not illusionists, filling stereotypical roles, trying to "pass," as it were. Then let's do it. Let's try to "pass" as a legitimate group with a common purpose and not get "read" as a bunch of loners and problematic people.

I don't mean to pontificate too much. One of the things I particularly enjoyed was the F to M transgenderists who were marching with us and the other M to F transgenderists who are out there in the world. I guess that for me to have a richer life means I have to believe in something. I believe that being out there is an opportunity for education - for us and them. I believe that we as a group are and will be responsible for the deconstruction of rigid gender and sexual stereotypes in this society. I believe we are the cutting edge of human development, and I believe in you. I believe that together we can do amazing things.

I am proud to be transgendered.


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