on neighbours

today i was reminded to pay attention to my neighbors. the people in closest proximity to me, who are experiencing the same things as i am on a moment-to-moment basis. today my neighbors included:

-the non-heteronormative appearing Black woman who sat across from me on the T and made faces at a toddler whose mama was more interested in her phone than in her child.

-Dave, the working-class man with a strong Boston accent (which neighborhood, i could still not tell you) who struck up a conversation with me at the trolley stop by asking about my hair (buzzed again, surprise!) and proceeded to carry a conversation with me for at least 45 minutes until i got off the train. he was super friendly and really interesting to listen to and connect with. he has a daughter about my age. and he told me he'll give me a copy of his demo cd the next time we see each other.

 -the two young Asian women who said "excuse me" while i was talking with a friend on a street corner and asked me to take their picture...how do you say no to that? 

-the Latino family taking wedding pictures...the bride and the little girl were both in elaborate dresses. the flower girl looked like she was thoroughly enjoying poofing her big skirt.

-the employees at the liquor store and the chain burrito place where we stopped on the way home. who looked me in the eyes, and who didn't.

-the boy (college-aged?) who thanked me as he moved past me to get out of the crowded train, and the way i thanked him for making it so convenient for me to sit down. (lessons in femme courtesy only ever happen naturally and by accident.)

-the gaggle of irish students staying in boston for a 7-week term, especially the girl sitting on the end of the row with her bright red hair who sang, "i cannot wait to go back to ireland!" the others asked her why, and she told them she misses her good friends and her good family and a gestural expression of frustration with people from here that i would do a disservice by describing. i asked her how long she's staying here, and she told me five more weeks. she asked me where i'm from. i only thought about it for a moment before saying, "pittsburgh." she repeated it, "pittsburgh," with an unmistakably knowing nod. "do you like it here?"



"not as much as i liked it there."
"so are you often making long trips?"
"not often enough."
"ah, because of like work stuff?"
"yeah, stuff like that."

as i got off the train i made sure to tell them to have fun and enjoy their stay. there's so much cool stuff to explore.

superstition

i lit my candles tonight like a good Catholic girl should. let's hope prayers go somewhere.

Trans* inmates should not receive SRS until we all can.

Federal judge rules state must provide sex reassignment surgery for Michelle Kosilek, who was convicted as a man of murdering his wife (Boston.com)

i support the right of transgender people to medically alter their bodies. i support the right of prisoners to obtain necessary and appropriate medical care. however, i am disgusted by Judge Mark Wolf's ruling that the Massachusetts Department of Corrections must provide sex reassignment surgery for an inmate who is serving a life sentence for the murder of her wife.

the judge ruled that preventing Michelle Lynn Kosilek from undergoing this surgery constitutes "cruel and unusual punishment." i beg to differ. countless transgender people who have never murdered anyone are denied this life-saving medical treatment every day. is that cruel? yes, but it is hardly unusual. gender confirmation surgery can cost upwards of $20,000 and is covered by no major medical insurance plan that i am aware of. some corporations do cover various gender-related surgical procedures for their employees, and some insurance plans cover hormone therapy and other related treatments. it is unconscionable to me that we do not make such treatments accessible to all innocent transgender citizens, but taxpayers are forced to fund them for criminals.

i do believe that transgender inmates should be treated with respect and dignity, and that prisoners generally should receive medical care. house trans* inmates in facilities that correspond with their identities. give prisoners flu vaccines, insulin, and pain relief. i would even feel comfortable funding hormone therapy for trans* prisoners.  but there is absolutely no reason why convicted criminals should receive, free of charge, medical treatment that is denied to the general public. that extends far beyond trans*-related medical care: while there are children dying on transplant wait lists, why has any criminal ever received an organ transplant?

refer to Ms Kosilek by her preferred name and pronouns. house her in a women's prison. give her a private cell and washroom if it's necessary to keep her (or other inmates) safe. but while innocent American citizens who pay for their own healthcare--or work three jobs and still can't afford more than Medicaid--are living without access to this potentially life-saving medical treatment, do not provide this convicted murderer with a sex change operation, at the expense of everyone but herself.

highlights from the walk i just took

walking through where Vietnam collides with Latin America, the urban Black community, and old Irish names

statues of Mary and Joseph with flowers laid at their feet

dot2dot cafe has an open mic the last friday of every month, and they might be a good place to eat breakfast

gas costs about 30 cents less in dorchester than it does in brookline

why are white people so unfriendly?

julie andrews constantly playing outside the strip mall, met by a reggae cover of "when i'm 64" by the beatles inside the liquor store, where the cashiers are probably never going to stop addressing me as "young lady"

i love triple deckers

this morning's saturday drive through the "bad part of town" with the top down was also educational. catholics build the biggest churches. crowning moment: reading the huge "START THE PEACE" sign in the corner park, and a police car blazes through the intersection, all sirens and blue lights.

moment:

i saw two Black lesbians cross the street holding hands in my new neighborhood today, and it made me feel better about everything.

coming clean

i can't believe i ever let you silence me.

i can't believe i gave up my opportunity to tell you everything i had to say in front of everyone who should have heard it. i wonder if anyone interpreted my silence to mean you had won.

the fact of the matter is, that night solidified more than any other that your hate and your vitriol and your passive-aggression, simply, are not and never were worth my time. your words to me did not even deserve a response. even in my moment of potential vindication, if only i could speak sharply enough, you were not worth the effort and the frustration.

would have been nice if either one of us could have de-escalated it from that point. i tried. i stopped trying when you made it clear that you were never going to look me in the eye again, or respond to anything i said. i don't doubt you know just how many nights you brushed past me and i was looking straight into your face--you wouldn't even acknowledge me.

your loss, really. 

advice for young travelers

move to an unfamiliar city. 

get lost and then get found. 

experience as many things as you possibly can. 

be cautious, but don't be afraid. 

look people in the eye. 

always walk tall. 

have fun.