Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XVIII

Art Link Landscape of the Mind The Candy-colored Clown In my dreams the eagle transforms into the dove of peace every soul is sparked by precious pieces of Martin and Coretta their essence permeates the landscape of my mind fairness prevails people are kind nice caring helpful human warmth flows toward everyone through everything replenishing the fabric of this mortal coil There’s always fair weather where justice reigns the justice that Martin saw from the mountain top Then I awake let out a gasp and cry out in despair –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 17, 2006

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XVIII

Art Link Not Quite Balanced Stories to Tell We both believe a story (and so do they and these and those…) We both have a book It’s just that you believe that everyone should worship your book word for word without context while my book teaches me that I must create my own story based on my principles my ethical nature my moral judgment my basic goodness as a human being and laugh at the thought that one person would seek to force their thoughts or beliefs on another I’ve read your book You fear mine And you claim that your belief is stronger? You jest I chuckle at your joke Really You slay me –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 23, 2006

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XVII

Art Link Seeking Enlightenment Steps One step at a time sometimes forward sometimes up Forward as I move through my life even if some wish to pull me back Perhaps they sense the peril of the new Upward is harder as I lift the burden of proceeding to another level up the staircase of human evolution beyond the mundane They do not like it that I have taken this step or even that I have shown them that this place exists Their screams of pain anger and terror will not – can not bring me back This place once conceived cannot be erased and cannot be denied Ideas cannot be unthought –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 7, 2006

The collective consciousness of the WeaveMothers sensed the impending change of gears of the Celestial Steam Locomotive.

The train approached a long uphill grade of the current happentrack.  The Engineer engaged the lever of night.  The passenger continued sleeping.  The listener fell into a trance.  And the storyteller dreamed for them all.

It was a tale of life on the borderland, of the place which was on neither this side nor the other side of the rainbow.

The WeaveMothers have appeared before.  In what passes for chronological order, they are here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

Having ready Michael Greatrex Coney’s, Song of Earth is also helpful.  Or you could just relax and accept the possibility of the Celestial Steam Locomotive passing through the Greataway.

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XVI

Art Link Inside Slices Each time a class of people is defined humanity is divided hewed like an old log Just like that log destruction occurs at the point where the axe strikes But the damage done to the people in the path of the cut is much more serious than the harm done to some old wood Race cuts like a saber through individuals of mixed ancestry Can you feel their pain? How feels the slice of the katana of ethnicity to someone whose grandparents hail from four different cultures? Blood spurts from the laceration of the gender scimitar through those not exactly men or women I live on the edge of that blade –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 30, 2006

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XV

Art Link Wallpaper Flames The fire that may burn in the belly or on the tongue slowly smoulders in the mind over the kindling of traditional thought Progress begins when I flambé the tissue of my brain over the white hot flame of new perspective –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 8, 2006

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XIV

Art Link Satin My Label is not a Slur My label is not a slur My label does not mean repulsive or obscene should not induce revulsion or hatred I am not subhuman Different, yes, but not less than you I am not “really” anything except a human being There are more of you so we live in your world rather than one of our own choosing Do we threaten you? Do you fear us? How did we earn the ridicule? How did we earn the hatred? How did we earn your silence? –Robyn Elaine Serven –January 31, 2006

Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XIII

Art Link Eggstraction On the Borderlands The land on the border is fertile The people are kind gentle content for the most part until of course the patrol comes by to force everyone to move to one side or the other That causes great turmoil on the borderlands so sometimes we move the border when they aren’t looking –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 3, 2006

There have always been problems with trying to share my experience as a transwoman.  I can only speak my experience.  And I can only speak my experience from the point of view of now.  I mean, I have taken great care to preserve my writings in the 90s as they were written, because they portray how I felt then, but often I have difficulty even remembering the frame of mind I was in when I wrote them.

I am not a transman.  I cannot speak for any of them, though I can feel a sense of kinship.  And I can try to speak in favor of the rights we should have in common.  Our common experience, however, may be too ephemeral to grasp.

I am not pre-operative.  That was left far in the past.  And I forget.  I’m sure some of that forgetting has been intentional.  There are pains I would prefer were left behind.

I’m also not black.

But how can anyone understand the whole without understanding some of the parts?

We have a new blog on our Blog Roll.  I stumbled across Monica Roberts’ TransGriot when I was looking to increase diversity in my essay for Friday.

One of the discussions I stumbled on was about that fact that black transwomen are almost universally assumed to be prostitutes, in life and especially in death.  I was looking for that today when I decided to take a look at something else.

Perspective can stand to be expanded.  Besides, I’m tired and can handle a discussion much easier than a lengthy psychological analysis.

I started out hoping to write about scarcity.  Specifically I was hoping to write about the scarcity of fairness and equality that to many people think exists, as if we can’t be fair to everyone and that it is necessary that some people have to have inferior rights in order for others to feel superior.

I wanted to write about just why that must be so…because I don’t think it does.

But I can’t get this exchange out of my head:

I’m a transwoman.

I have a rather large adams apple.  Am I not a woman in your opinion?

nope.

That was from a woman who thinks she’s more deserving of respect than I am, simply because she was born female.

And this came from a gay guy:

I got it

Code Pink has trannie members too so it’s not all women.

And people recced that comment.  I can only assume that’s because they agreed.

So I’m stuck writing something probably only for myself and a very small audience:  those who I believe could benefit from reading it will not.  Or maybe I should put that this way:  those whose reading it would benefit transfolk are unlikely to read it.  That is pretty much the nature of intentional ignorance.