Not My Job

audre lord

I was writing a response to this post last week, which a family member had liked on Facebook, when I realized suddenly how much time and energy I have expended over my life, refuting claims that have no basis in reality, claims which are patently ridiculous.

This blogger, a conservative white male with no expertise in sexuality, gender, genetics or anything else he was writing about, had once again conflated LGBTQ+ people with pedophiles, rapists, and adulterers. He explained that “the progressives” would have us be a slave to our urges, no matter how harmful those urges were. I was in the middle of meticulously crafting a point-for-point rebuttal when something I had been hearing other people say lately, in one form or another, pop into my head:

It is not my job to educate you. 

Your validation is not necessary. 

Your acceptance of me does not make me whole.

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For the Last Time, No One is “Born a Man”

born a man

It’s 2014. It’s Transgender Day of Remembrance. For the last time, can the media please stop telling people they were “born men?”

You know who is “born a man?” This ugly Renaissance baby. He may be small, but I’m pretty sure he’s a tiny adult male.

You know who isn’t “born a man?” A trans woman. If we must insist on using this terrible grammar, she is actually “born a baby.”

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