Transgender Day of Remembrance 2006: My Reaction

If you read my comment about Peterson's post about the Transgender Day of Remembrance, you'll see that I planned to go. And I did. It wasn't quite what I expected; in short films about it posted on You-Tube, I had seen people gathering in great groups on city streets to honor the past year's sadly departed. But our vigil wasn't quite the same. Instead of meeting outside initially, we gathered in a Unitarian church and discussed the plan for the evening, which included a candle-light march down and then back up Northampton's Main Street, some scheduled speakers, and an open mic. opportunity so the public could speak, as well.

While I was partaking in this ceremony, I had the chance to meet an amazing person. Here's a little back-story, so you might not be so confused as to why I'm jumping around a bit: on Friday of last week, I spoke after a film about Trans. teens (which, if you read the blog preceeding this one, I was freaking out about just a wee bit (but which actually ended up going really well)). Before the film, me and the friends I came to Northampton with decided to go to Pride and Joy, Northampton's store for specifically GLBT-related merchandise. At Pride and Joy, I bought a book--S. Bear Bergman's Butch Is A Noun. And last night, Bear was the person I was so overjoyed to meet. It actually turns out that ze* lives in Northampton! I was very affected by Bear because ze was so open and sweet, and even though I have met many authors who have since become my friends (or at least trusted acquaintances), I felt instantly welcomed and accepted by hir* into hir world.

Anyway, after the vigil/march and the speaking back at the church, our organizer for the night asked the 19 folks who had been given a description of an individual we were remembering to read their slips of paper aloud. They had flashlights that they had to read by, but what was particularly ceremonial, respectful, and beautiful is that when the people were done reading their descriptions, they turned off their flashlights, both to represent that they were finished reading but also to represent the sudden, untimely death of the person they'd just read about. During the reading of one of the first descriptions, I got completely unnerved and began to sob. A good friend, who is also a Transman, held me in his arms, tight against his chest. I felt a hand on my knee, and as I turned to look at the person who was reaching out to me, I discovered that it was Bear--ze was handing me hir handkerchief. I took it gratefully, and at the end of the evening, when I asked hir if ze wanted it back, ze told me to keep it. And then ze hugged me, and held me tight.

Though I don't think I have ever experienced such sadness as I did last night, I also don't think I've ever been so thankful for my chosen family, which grew considerably in just an evening. Bear said before ze read a poem during the time when ze spoke that we did not lose the people who died this year and who we were honoring--they were taken from us. Although I agree that this is very true, those who attended the Transgender Day of Remembrance ceremonies all across the globe last night forged a new bond as a chosen family in the largest sense, and I know that there is nothing more extraordinary and gorgeous than that.