tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57913732535457095062024-02-20T14:21:20.451-08:00Living Transgender In American Society Today"You can be scared when things get too real, but you should be diggin' it while it is happening -- Yes! You should be diggin' it! -- Because it might just be a one shot deal". Frank ZappaEva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-12265383408527001472021-03-18T14:15:00.000-07:002021-03-18T14:15:03.508-07:00First pages of my book<p> This excerpt is not formatted or proofread for publishing yet, but I am excited to share it. Real progress on this telling of my life though is exciting (to me). </p><span id="docs-internal-guid-415c60ef-7fff-1eed-93a5-74553992ef1f"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 18pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Part One: Early Life to Young Adulthood</span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How It All Began</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Growing up, I was a typical suburban girl living a suburban boy’s life. The first indication of this came at age six, when a pharmacist misspelled my then-name, “Evan,” as “Eva” on a prescription. It should have been humiliating, but it wasn’t. Sure, my parents got a good laugh out of it, and my brother did too, but something about the whole affair just felt instinctively right to me. I didn’t know I was transgender then, and in fact I wouldn’t know for a long time what that word even meant. Still, this cemented in me from a young age that there was something different about me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This sense of difference didn’t go away as I got older. All it did was gnaw at me more and more. At school, hanging out with the other little boys, I always felt so different from them. It’s not that I didn’t fit in with them, it’s that I had to make a conscious effort to do so. I was an actor playing the role of a young boy. I played it well enough, but one slip-up and I could destroy the audience’s suspension of disbelief. I didn’t know it then but I was already beginning to embody the concept of being one thing while trying to act as it’s opposite - very similar to the term </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">oxymoron</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Something was wrong, because while masculine behavior felt like such an act, feminine behavior is what came naturally to me. I longed to be more like the little girls I knew at school, to inhabit their bodies and walk around in them, but I knew (or at least thought, back then) that I could never do that.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To add onto all my other troubles, I followed in the footsteps of a brilliant brother. I struggled more in school than Clay ever did, to the great disappointment of teachers who expected much better from a Scarborough boy. I know now this wasn’t my fault, but back then I felt woefully inadequate. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just as I didn’t have the vocabulary to know r explain I was transgender from a young age, doctors didn’t have the vocabulary in the 1960s and ‘70s to know I had ADHD. So I skirted through school with C’s, and was miserable in most of my classes. I felt like something deep inside me was broken, keeping me from functioning properly. My gender troubles and my inability to focus were all wrapped together in an ugly knot, and I thought I was crazy. I mentioned earlier that I fit in well enough with the boys I hung out with (band geeks, most of us). That being said, I was bullied throughout my early years. I understand why. I was horrible at sports, a skill that seemed to be a prerequisite for being a popular boy in those days. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I just wasn’t equipped to be an athlete. Well, that might be an understatement. My eyesight was horrible, for one thing and depth perception was lacking. When I was newborn, one of my lenses had hardened around a speck of dirt that got in my eye, permanently marring my vision, add to that a condition known as Lazy-eye. I was the kid who, when up to bat, all the outfielders moved in close. When, in a rare moment, I managed to hit the ball squarely I could send it over the fence and get to laugh at them and that felt good! There was even a period of time during my childhood when I had to wear a patch over my good eye, much to the amusement of the other children. This was supposed to make my bad eye stronger, but that just made the distortion that much more of a distraction! I will never understand that logic. Along with all my trouble seeing, I had terrible asthma, and got winded easily enough to make me really stand out. Turns out the asthma-like condition was the result of breathing radioactive fallout from the Santa Susana Field lab accident in 1959 when the experimental Sodium reactor was on the verge of a catastrophic meltdown. The reaction chamber had to be manually opened to avoid an explosion of overheated gasses. (Speculation was it would have been worse than Chernobyl had radical intervention not been made). I only discovered recently that it was this accident and not actually being sick that affected my family and myself so. I still have scar tissue in my lungs and get winded easily.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> In spite of my physical condition being what got me bullied in the first place, I do think it saved me from getting bullied </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">worse</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Because I was genuinely less able to defend myself and not just a loser, most other boys would have felt guilty for bullying me too badly. What I faced truly was minor compared to what a lot of other kids got. And it wouldn’t last forever.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were some kids who would steal my lunch money and, on the day I finally worked up the bravery to refuse to give it to them, pushed me around a little. They quickly found out I wasn’t fun to bully when, after purposely falling to the ground, I refused to get up, just looking up at them to see what they would do next. Bored, they ran off.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A word of advice: if being so sickly that people feel bad for bullying you too much is a lifesaver, making yourself a boring target is even better.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was a preteen when I first became interested in women’s clothes, particularly my mother’s, as these were the items most readily available to me. I would sneak into her closet when no one was home and try on her clothes. Some items I would keep in a little box at the back of my closet, to take out whenever I felt I needed to.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Puberty came fairly early. The very first time I tried on mom’s exercise leotard I had my first orgasm. I didn’t know what it was then, but it felt amazing. Though rushing to clean the garment left me terrified that my mom might notice something amiss. Perhaps this was the cementing (semen-ting - yes, a terrible pun) of the cycle of pleasure and then shame that kept me closet-bound for many years. As much as I heard the term “if it feels good do it” fairly often the lessons I learned from people’s actions was that generally if it feels good, it must be really BAD! How many of us in our days of self-discovery and pleasure have been tripped up by just this one contradiction? And once again I marvel at how many contradictory ideas and beliefs we grow up with and think nothing of. We are taught to be Oxy</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MORONS!</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This fixation was bound to come about at some point, and really could have been triggered by anything (and would have been triggered by something eventually). But I think I can pinpoint when I became fully aware of what I wanted to do, beyond just liking my misspelled birth name on a prescription. Somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve, costume play was prevalent in my neighborhood and that was when I discovered I really liked dressing up as a girl. It wasn’t just costume play anymore. My secret girl kept enticing, seducing me back.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn’t long before I was found out. I wasn’t caught in the act, like I feared I would be every single time I got dressed up. No, the story is stranger than that. One day my father came home from work, walked directly into my closet, to the box, pulled it out and confronted me about it. Foremost in my mind rang the question, how the Hell did he know?!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If this behavior continues,” he told me, “we’ll have to find a therapist, and I could lose my job.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My father’s job was an important one, so I knew these stakes were high. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My father often worked with the space program, examining space particles collected during our early missions into space, while working and living in the San Fernando Valley, in proximity to the Santa Susana Field Lab. He was a scientist, and for that I was always proud and in awe of him. Eventually he became a Deputy Director of the New Brunswick Lab at Argonne Illinois and </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, this wasn’t an easy time to be a scientist keeping up with confidential information. This was the Cold War era, after all, the height of United States paranoia. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being a child of the Cold War with a father who worked for the government had its influence on my behavior. If I’m being honest, it still does, and it was a big part of my transness from an early age. I learned when I was very young to hide, because someone could always be watching.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was some merit to my paranoia. See, my box of goodies was one of many things my father discovered over the years that he couldn’t possibly have found on his own. I always made sure to take things from my mother’s closet when the house was completely empty. Nobody should have been home or following me to report anything to my dad on any of my excursions and dealings with friends. At home I was very careful to put things back exactly as I had found them other than those things that seemed long unused that I had pinched.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But Eva,” you might say, “couldn’t your mother have noticed things were missing from her closet, suspected you were the culprit, and talked to your dad about it?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A good theory, but no. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My mother told me years later that she’d had no idea what was going on, so my father couldn’t have learned anything from her.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As for me, I have my suspicions about who really might have told him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was a child, there would often be men in black suits outside my house, driving slowly up and down our street, watching. I would often watch my mom peek out the kitchen curtains when cooking or washing dishes and exclaim, “I wonder who </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">they</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> are!” about an unfamiliar car slowly cruising past on our dead-end street. It was odd, in retrospect, but as mundane as anything you’ve grown up with tends to feel. I couldn’t make sense of it at the time, but now I think they must have been NSA agents. Perhaps because my father was working on such groundbreaking scientific discoveries at a time when the US and Russia were in close competition, we were targets for spies or kidnapping. Of course my parents soft-pedaled this at the time, but the reality of it being somewhat common is what I remember, and the things they could not say. For example there was never any talk of the Field lab “accident” or the reasons for all the medication and intensive exams of my lungs. It was always referred to as “that pneumonitis thing” even when I would ask direct questions about it like why my father was so concerned if I was breathing okay and not feeling dizzy or having trouble breathing. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It may sound like a stretch to the modern reader, but these were crazy times. The only plausible explanation I’ve come up with for how my father could have possibly known what I was getting up to is that one of the men who watched our house saw me taking and putting on my mother’s clothes one day, and told on me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But why would these people </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">care </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">about the weird things someone’s kid was doing in their private time?” you might ask.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, remember the time this was, and recall the importance of my father’s job. I could be seen as a potential danger by my father’s employers if I was found out, because whatever was going on with me, at the time, would be diagnosed as pathological. Given that my father was handling a lot of sensitive material, his employers wouldn’t want any evidence of “craziness” running in his family. Anything smacking of queer or other abberant behavior of family members was of grave concern.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As my dad said, “If this continues, we’ll have to get a therapist, and I could lose my job.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was a lot of pressure on a kid, and it only grew. I came by my Paranoia naturally!</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just a brief rabbit trail that is a hoot (to me anyway): I have seldom before told of this trans girl’s secret joy of marching band uniforms, half-time shows, and parades. Do you know how much can be hidden under a band uniform? I could dress up and hide so much under my baggy pants, spats, coat, overlay and the big feathered “Shako.” Half-time shows in high school and college were a perfect place for my “secret girl” to strut her stuff.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Meanwhile, all anyone thought about was how dearly I loved music and marching bands, how dedicated I was. I was told on more than one occasion that others were inspired by my exuberant example--that I should keep it up. And so I did.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Memoirs of a Childhood Prankster</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As all my crossdressing woes were going on, I found myself getting into a lot of trouble. I think I just needed an outlet for all the stress in my home life. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because I was bullied in school, I think I subconsciously saw troublemaking as a way to keep a solid group of friends around me, to get some notoriety and not be seen as just a weak “sissy” by the other boys. I was clearly overcompensating.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If those were my intentions, they worked out well enough in my favor. I made several friends and accomplices through the childish pranks I pulled.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In junior high, I had a friend named Roy. We loved getting into trouble together. We would make homemade firecrackers and blow stuff up (nothing bigger or more important than a garbage can, of course). We weren’t total delinquents, but we wanted to have fun and did not always “count the cost”. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I shoplifted with him and his brothers. They would take little trinkets, but I was more selective. Always a fan of working on electronic gadgets, I got ahold of little electronic parts that would help us out on our projects. I was never caught shoplifting, though I did get thrown out of a store once for looking at things the shop owner suspected I might want to steal. I suppose he could read the look on my face and said “I looked guilty”.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I got older, my high school band director, Mr. Fisher, bore the brunt of a lot of my mischief. I and our merry band of pranksters absolutely loved torturing him. I wasn’t usually the instigator but loved the camaraderie, and I had some useful skills. I’m sure we traumatized the poor man. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Along with directing the band, Mr. Fisher would often play with us, in the saxophone section of the Basketball Pep Band. This made a lot of our pranks on him easy.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once, a friend of mine named Mark, a Baritone player, had procured a tiny microphone with an extremely long cord. I, meanwhile, had a portable tape recorder. We had not planned this, but the immediate was too good to pass up, the two of us connected our gadgets, and Mark slipped the microphone into Mr. Fisher’s back pocket while Mr. Fisher was playing the saxophone just in front of him and hamming it up.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, it was a habit of ours during pep band to untune our instruments, and let all our notes come out sour. So that’s what the trumpet section did that day, and we waited for Mr. Fisher to snap.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After a few minutes of the trumpets playing horribly, Mr. Fisher stopped the music, turned around and shouted, “What’s the matter with the damn trumpets?!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We had what we wanted. I took the recording and made a loop of tape with just that exclamation so it would repeat over and over.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">See, Mr. Fisher had a tape player in his office for music appreciation classes and etc, and if I did some finagling with it when he wasn’t looking I could sneak the loop tape inside somewhere he wouldn’t be able to see it. It fit under the tape-head cover perfectly, completely hidden from view.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everytime he put another tape in the player for us to listen to for band practice, my tape would play instead, over and over again, “What’s the matter with the damn trumpets?! What’s the matter with the damn trumpets?!...”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was easy enough for him to pick me out as the culprit. I was the most techy member of the band, after all, the most able to do whatever it was I’d done. I only wish I could have been in the room with my camera when he first encountered it!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, he confronted me. “I don’t know how you did it, but show me how you did it as you undo it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I did, grinning to myself and trying not to laugh out loud all the while. It was the perfect prank! I do not, nor ever have felt guilty about this particular gag!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were more than a few times when our pranks would involve Mr. Fisher’s car. On his car, he had taillights that were shaped in such a way that, if you unscrewed an Oreo cookie and stuck the side with the cream on there, it would stay good and stuck for a while blocking the light.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, from time to time we would stick on Oreo cookies and see how long they’d stay there, and our little bans weren’t the only ones to do so. Once, Mr. Fisher drove around so long with them there that he got stopped by a cop one night for having his taillights out. He was baffled when the cop told him his reason for stopping him, and was even more baffled when he got out to look at his lights and saw the Oreos stuck on there. The poor man wound up getting a ticket for it. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another time, we put an apple core in Mr. Fisher’s exhaust pipe, just to see what would happen. The merry band of troublemakers crowded by the parking lot after the final bell, peeking around the side of the school giggling to ourselves, waiting eagerly for whatever would occur.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You can imagine our disappointment when what occurred was nothing remarkable. Mr. Fisher just started his car and drove away.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn’t until a week or so later that we received more news on the matter. Mr. Fisher’s son, who was also in the band, told us how his father had had trouble getting the car to start when the two of them were about to head home from the mall that afternoon.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After trying and trying to start the car, they heard a </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">thunk </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">behind them, after which the car finally started up. As they drove away, they saw an apple core lying behind their car. Later, they would notice their exhaust pipe was bent. Mr. Fisher’s son wondered how the apple core had gotten in the exhaust pipe, as that must have been what had happened. He wasn’t above a good prank either. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For that prank, we never got caught, but we had a good laugh about it later when we were told about it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even years later, when I and my friends who’d pulled so many pranks on Mr. Fisher would show up to watch football games at the high school, he’d throw down his conductor’s stick and storm off as soon as he saw us. I feel bad for traumatizing him, but he was so easy to get.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not all my antics were as (arguably) harmless as the ones I pulled on Mr. Fisher. I was working on an electronics shop project that I wanted an extra part for. A kid in my class, Barry, had just the part I neede, and was planning to use it for his own project. Without really thinking about the consequences of what I was doing, I swiped the part from Barry’s desk when he wasn’t looking.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just like that, I was able to complete my modified version of the project with ease, while Barry suffered from losing a part.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wondered if he, or anyone, had seen or even just sensed what I had done, though unseen my folly was rapidly discovered and I gave it back after getting in a bunch of trouble. I subsequently forgot all about it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Barry wound up going to the same college as me. One day, when I was walking around the campus at Cal State Northridge, I heard a voice shouting, “Thief! Thief! I looked around and saw a figure heading toward me with a steady, determined stride. When the figure got a little bit closer, I recognized Barry instantly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh, God, </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought to myself, remembering what I’d done to him when we were younger. I was then hit with the enormity of the pain I had caused, and I knew I couldn’t escape. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> did that.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stammered something in response, and then Barry really let me have it. He told me he knew what I’d done back when we were kids, and that it messed him up for a long time, made him unable to trust people.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This was a formative moment for me. After a childhood of mischief, this was the first time I truly made the connection that my selfish actions, or even the ones I saw as harmless or all in good fun, could hurt people in ways I could not imagine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wouldn’t see Barry again after he stalked off, but the look of hurt and anger on his face as he told me off would linger in his absence. This forced me to re-evaluate and set some personal limits. I learned the immense value of considering moral implications in depth BEFORE acting in pure self interest. I still feel so terrible for hurting Barry - I damaged him for life! This is a lesson that still remains at the forefront in my mind now and I tearfully remember often.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Getting up on my soap-box for a moment here: </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking at society today I see that I was not the only one, by far, that did not learn the value of being honest with others in my dealings or mature in self-control at a young age as I ought. I guess that I was lucky to finally grasp this important fact of life at all. I am dismayed at how so many today seem to have never learned this, never formed or found a moral backbone or compass, though they claim to know what that is, but fail in action - entire Christian-like religious sects have been infected with such blatant disregard for morality and honesty. How many never learned that some rules must be followed so sanity can prevail is so evident in 21st Century America! January 6th, 2021 is a day that will live in infamy in our Capitol and clearly evident in the Administration that was coming to an end, which never once dealt honestly with the American people or the World, nor has the political party backing it and seemingly in thrall to the immorality of the hour. How we have become so steeped in moral turpitude, and merely accept it as standard operating procedure going back at least as far as Reagan’s days is something we all must work to change or our current reprieve from blatant fascism and corruption will be very short lived. Building anything on a corrupt foundation, as I discovered with my own transgressions, is not acceptable if one claims to be civilized or mature and there will be painful consequences! I believe that Jimmy Carter may be the only President that understands this principle and lives by it. We have to do better, strive to be better, like he has spent his lifetime doing!!! We must be willing to reexamine our entire lives and set them on a foundation of unwavering honesty and selflessness. This is the primary lesson I take away from my life up to this point. </span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Romance?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’d be lying if I said I was never interested in girls. Growing up, I was very interested in them, just not in a romantic sense. In the time I spent with girls, I found myself longing to join their ranks, and felt I should be one of them. There was attraction too, but I was always mixed and confused by this want and need to be one, while everything else about my body, the things all the adults in my life said too. “Oh you are such a handsome boy…”. Who the Hell was I, what was real and right?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because I was so uncomfortable with myself, I couldn’t fathom being in a romantic relationship, but by the time I was in high school, I felt it was time. Not because I wanted it, but because it’s what everybody else was doing. In Jr. high other kids kept trying to set me up with a girlfriend and I just fell flat. Rumors that maybe I was queer were floated, by one of the ass-hat dummy English teachers, a rather obese and slobbish sort of man - certainly not one I would take advice from. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was in high school, I participated in the High School Music Institute, a program that took place at Cal State Northridge, where I would later drop out of college. When my brother, Clay, participated in the Music Institute, he was in the orchestra. I was only good enough to make Wind Ensemble</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we would go to the Music Institute, we’d stay in the Cal State dorms. Boys and girls weren’t supposed to visit each other’s dorm rooms, but of course that rule was broken all the time.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">During one of my stays at the Music Institute, I became involved with Karen, a reed player. Our relationship, like many teen romances, was passionate and brief, beginning simply because we were a “boy” and a girl who were, for a while, in the same geographic location with making music in common.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Karen used to sneak into my dorm when Music Institute was over for the day. It was on one of those visits that I lost my virginity to her. It was… underwhelming. And strange. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To reach orgasm, I had to imagine myself as a woman. This was yet another eye-opening experience for me. Throughout most of my youth, the heights of pleasure I experienced came when I was dressed as a girl, imagining myself as one, or both. This night was a visceral confirmation for me that something in my mind-body connection was utterly, horribly wrong.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When it was over, Karen and I lay in bed together, and I asked her how it was.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was hoping she would say she loved it, that she’d experienced just as much pleasure as me, but instead she simply said, “It hurt.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was horrified, and undone! I hated that, in my assigned gender role in the bedroom, I could cause someone pain. It was supposed to be sublime, but I was crushed and she was in pain!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t speak to Karen much after that, I was so embarrassed. The Music Institute ended and we went our separate ways. It was just too humiliating for me to talk to her after what had happened, after I hurt her. I am still ashamed. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like my encounter with Barry, this was a formative moment for me, one that showed me the damage I was capable of causing and strengthened my fear of myself. What kind of monster was I? How had I become such an one? And Why. I had no answers. This beginning of self-loathing stuck with me and grew into a deep inner darkness that held my crossdressing, my sexual passions, and my fear of even touching/being touched. Even as I edit this section I am crying, perhaps cathartic tears and some fear, too, because I am now laying bare this darkness that nobody knew I carried. How will I be received by those who now know, these 50 years later...? </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have always run from appearing vulnerable, overcompensated a lot too (!), but when I came out in 2006 I vowed to myself that I would be all the way out, no matter what. So far it has proved to be the right thing and has forced me to grow and mature and face the many demons of my past. You, dear reader, are sharing a little of my fight to be free right here and now. Thank you for seeing me...</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sucking Up All The Wrong Things</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">College is where my drug addiction began - such ready access to pot was not something I expected. Looking back now, this turn of events is no surprise. Like a lot of suburban kids, I grew up deeply loved but over-sheltered. Well into my teens, I wasn’t allowed to travel more than a couple blocks from my house without supervision, even if it was a friend from a family known to my folks. I got into my fair share of trouble, as you are learning, but I never really got to feel </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">free, </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not free to be the person bottled up inside who might find love without giving pain, might just find simple innocence without always having to maintain a façade of invulnerability. When I moved into my college dorm, it felt great, a big adventure, but it was too much freedom for me to handle all at once. I went a little crazy with it.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My first roommate was a 2nd year black student. He had a reputation, according to the white kids, of being kind of a ghetto thug and I should be fearful of being cut in my sleep. But we became casual friends. He was nothing like what the rumor mongers had it, he was insightful and intelligent and good company, and he was damn good looking too, though I would never have admitted that back then. Our academic paths were completely different, me music and arts and he black history and social studies. We would walk across campus from the dorm to the cafeteria together fairly often and I remember seeing the polarization of people who witnessed this, almost a parting of the waters as the jaws of both white and students of color were hanging open when we passed by, testifying to some strange sight. I was still fairly oblivious of racial prejudices and wondered why we were both treated as pariahs but that was generally okay with me as I didn’t want to be bothered. Being alone suited me most of the time. It still does. Being a pariah also worked for me with my deep forming sense of fundamental inner wrongness and fear of being exposed. I turned down requests to join fraternities for much the same reason. I had to figure myself out before ever opening up to some clique or other. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To this day I wonder why it is so hard for so many white folks to just take the time to get to know someone different and see the falsehoods and rumors spread run off like raindrops and vanish. Maybe I am too simple, but his friendship made me a better person. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This was in 1972-3ish, when the hippie movement was well underway and drugs were everywhere. Soon after I started at Cal State, a fellow student there invited me to a holiday party, which I ended up going to. The party turned out to be with a bunch of his friends who were members of the same Buddhist sect he was a part of, Nichiren Shoshu Buddhism. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This party was maybe the third time I ever smoked weed, and I would continue to do so in my parties with the Buddhists and onward. The first few times I smoked weed, I didn’t really feel much of anything. Then, there was this one time where I was smoking weed with the Buddhists, and it hit me so hard I passed out. But I was pretty well hooked on the sense of escape from all my personal baggage. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As for this Buddhism itself, I quickly became sucked into that too because I was hungry for socialization. These Buddhists’ form of worship involved looking at a hand painted replica of a scroll, which had been originally written by the sect’s leader, back in Japan. When we worshipped at the Buddhist center in LA, which I would drive to on the weekends, we would all kneel in front of the scroll and chant a Japanese text from a little booklet. I had no idea what the chant meant, and I think a lot of the other people doing it didn’t either. (More on that later.)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What I do know is that being in the room when those chants were happening was so utterly relaxing, and filled me with a sense of peace that was hard to come by back then. To this day, I would love to have an ambient tape of that chanting, that thrumming, harmonic sound of the packed Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. Truly a wonder to behold.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, this style of worship wasn’t perfectly suited to me. I’m no longer a Buddhist, after all. The idea behind the scroll, as explained to me then, is that, when you were worshipping, you would also ask it to grant you things, even putting some token of one’s desire on the altar. Now, I was looking for things like inner peace with myself, especially with my gender troubles and a simple answer to the question of what kind of person I was to be, but a lot of the kids I worshipped with were looking for more material things. They’d pray for a new car, stuff like that. Something I noticed about middle class kids, as most of us in that sect were, was that we tended to be a bit materialistic in our wants. It seemed a little phony and pretentious to me. We were all filled with our “first world” problems and desires, spirituality seemed lost on many of them. There were times when I was the same way, it was just that at this point in my life I was so wrapped up in the abstract things it was hard to be materialistic - I needed answers and guidance. I was seeking something!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In spite of some differences, I stuck with the Buddhists in LA because they were the best I had. We even had a symphony orchestra that I was part of for a while, playing my French Horn proudly, and I loved the diverse crowd of musicians from all across the LA music scene. Still, it wouldn’t last, not for me at least.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually the leaders of this particular Buddhist sect in Japan came to visit and observe in preparation for a world convention, and we here in America were informed that we were actually doing the chant wrong! Go figure! (The influence of… Oxy</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">MORONS</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)! It seemed to me to be a serious flaw with that religion. So it was all superficiality and I drifted away, though I would love to get some of the particular incense they burned in front of the little scroll on the altar. It was a wonderful relaxing scent.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the midst of all this, my desire to step away from my boyhood and into womanhood was getting bigger and bigger. I was deeply unhappy with the body I was using to badly navigate the world, a miserable situation that made me turn to drugs even harder. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I managed to hide my struggle from my parents, although when I did finally tell them some of what went on in my college years, they were unsurprised. Though they never knew the whole situation, unless the watchers were still lurking somewhere in the shadows giving them the play-by-play. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We always knew you were searching for something,” my mother admitted to me after I came out to her. My father and brother never met the new and improved me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They just had no way of knowing what that something was - I was not able to express it verbally then, so they had no way of knowing what I wanted to find was the woman inside of me who’d been trying to pound herself out with manicured hands, for many years kicking at the darkness with pink toenails until it bled daylight. (A tip of the hat to the BareNaked Ladies and The Chicks, for that last turn of phrase.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After a few years of smoking pot and barely floating by in my classes, I dropped out of college in 1975 because I was “too much of a free spirit” for the whole institution. That is how I then described the way my mind worked - I had never heard of Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder in those days and thought my coping problems were just the effects of that inner blackness that was ever present. In reality, I just knew I was going to flunk out if I didn’t drop out, because I could not keep up. Dropping a twelve-unit class after the safe dropout date the previous semester meant I failed all twelve units of the class, even the ones I’d completed. Just like that, my long-suffering GPA got completely fucked up. It felt like there was no point in trying anymore. A disappointment to myself and my family.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After I dropped out of college, my life started to spiral even more out of control. For a few months, I was too embarrassed to tell my parents I’d even dropped out (as I continued to accept the checks they sent me to help out with tuition). They were understandably furious when I at last revealed I lied to them about being in school. I think it was a long while before they forgave me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was during this time that I got involved with the Renaissance Faire. This was in the days when the Renaissance Faire was in its original form, meeting on Paramount Ranch in Agoura Hills. I mostly just helped with security, but when I would dress up in character as a peasant. I found walking around outside in tights, in full view of other people, so wonderfully freeing, though still not what I was searching for.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was a lot of drug abuse at the Renaissance Faire, unfortunately. It seemed like you could get just about anything there, and when I was hanging out in the actors’ camp, I did. The pot lady who had rolled joints identified by their effects - “do you want to be mellow, happy, horny or just sky-high?” I tried Quaaludes and a few other things. There were some real oddballs--odd in the fact I had never been exposed to or contemplated such things before--at the camp, including a couple who lived in a tree and would have sex with their St. Bernard, very nice people but certainly stretched my sense of diversity. I had a lot of fun there and so I knew that my strangeness maybe wasn’t so strange after all. Walking around in tights was a way for me to explore my feminine side without appearing too out of sorts to the people around me, and I found a sense of community there that I was really starved for at the time. Then as life went on I wound up trying to “make something of myself”, so the frivolity of the Faire, the “beer and blood” as we often referred to actors camp after hours, were things that drifted out of my life as my career in Circuit board manufacturing and then design began to take precedence.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Later on in life, I would run into old acquaintances of mine from the Renaissance Faire. In Riverside, California, where I would live for a significant portion of my adult life and a place that will pop up a lot in this book, there was a store called Dragon Marsh that sold various spiritual materials, supplying local Witches with Craft materials. Crystals, incense, candles, jewelry, potions, essential oils… Things they still sell at Ren Faire. I still have several packs of Red Sandalwood incense from there. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I first discovered Dragon Marsh when I was walking around in downtown Riverside one day and saw a sign they had out front saying “Summer Sale.” This could not be ignored.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In typical Eva fashion, I went in and asked, loudly but completely deadpan, “How much are your summers?” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The workers in there all stopped what they were doing, and looked at me with such exquisite blank stares! Surprised by the terrible pun, or that anyone would dare it, but I was quite proud of myself. It was the kind of thing that played well in Faire spaces. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anyway, I recognized one of the workers at Dragon Marsh from my Renaissance Faire days. So when I was back home, I dug through some of my old photos from those days, and found some with that person in them. The next time I went into Dragon Marsh, I brought in the pictures I found and that former friend of mine and I had a fun time taking a trip down memory lane.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Steps to Peace With God</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">An Updated Excerpt of My Blog Post, “On Coming Out”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="border: none; display: inline-block; height: 139px; overflow: hidden; width: 198px;"><img height="141" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/1yAwk04KOLftAs39t7vbvWt0aydDPawfLcvYWSx1SdYqV4YutKpvIdM0iNWKCk_thcT2t8SMj2WG6Dz1_kJIarlS1EyqY8M1HqsRoWDUJMr08jQiu3vvgUEroSDkHkxnEFNyJxa4=w200-h141" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Several times in my youth people shared the gospel with me using the old standard Billy Graham tract, “Steps to Peace with God.” I remember each instance very clearly, starting with the witness by the Chaplain of the Base where my friend Tommy’s father was stationed when I was around 10, but I especially remember the time I was riding with a friend in a loaner car while his new Toyota truck was in for repair. </span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We found a copy of the tract in the glove box and, being college-age smart-alecks, made a mockery of it by crossing out all references to “God” and replacing them with “Toyota.” References to Jesus we changed to “your Toyota dealer.” Years later, we’re still laughing about it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From the outside, it may look like an act of pure disrespect, and in the moment it was, but this moment informs a large part of my relationship with God to this day. It’s just that now I’m laughing with Him instead of at Him. We are now friends. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being able to laugh with God is something I once wouldn’t have believed possible, but everything changed one Saturday afternoon in April 1980. I’d spent the whole day sitting alone in my apartment, recovering from having dropped some LSD the day before, the fringes of my vision still dancing with color a bit. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since I’d dropped out of college, my struggles with addiction and gender had only amplified. In my struggles to cope I turned to harder and harder drugs to feel like I could be someone else, someone with inner peace. A man with inner peace. Or simply just not myself for a little while. When I found I couldn’t do that, I just kept trying, and that messed up my life at just the wrong moments.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What a wretch I am, </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought to myself.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That Saturday I knew without a doubt that I was lost and hopeless, and that--</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Knock, knock, knock.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were two people at my door with a “Campus Crusade for Christ” survey, missionaries from a nearby home church. It was blazing hot outside that San Fernando Valley Spring day and they looked miserable, so I invited them in for some sodas. We sat and made small talk, laughing together as I took the survey. Strange as it was, that afternoon I truly felt at ease with them, like we were friends. Just as they were getting ready to leave, the woman, named Sandra, asked if she could share a little book about the Gospel with me. I agreed, and out came that little Billy Graham booklet, the one that followed me through so much of my life.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh no, </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought,</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> it can’t be… </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it was.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You know that sinking feeling you get when you know you’ve been caught doing something wrong, hand in the cookie jar? Well, it was in that moment that God “caught” me and I knew it. It was too much of a coincidence for that little booklet to keep showing up, again and again through my whole life, for it to not have any meaning. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In that moment, I knew without a doubt that God and Jesus were real and in my life, and that they’d always been there, just waiting for me to look them in the eye and believe. Like hosts of a prank show, I could practically feel them peeking around the corner, laughing at my expense. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">>Gotcha!<</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was laughing too. It was undeniable that an unbreakable spiritual connection was made that day. I promised the missionaries I would come to church the following weekend. The following weekend came around, and I kept my promise. I met lots of nice folks there and made some friends right away. I felt like a reject in a lot of aspects of my life, but there I seemed to fit in. There were others just as broken and hungry for hope and to make some sense of life as I. So the religious fervor that had followed me for so long was, finally, ignited within me, and that would change my life, for better and for worse.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not long afterward, I became a member of the church. On that day, I was so eager to be “saved” that I started rushing up toward the altar before the Pastor actually called for the new members to be received.</span></p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And look, they’re coming up already,” you can hear the pastor exclaiming on the recording of that service, referring to me. I still listen to that recording once in a while. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though the theology I adhere to has changed quite a bit as I have grown and followed the Spirit as she has led me safely along through many painful changes to be the woman I am today. That Biblical promise of never being alone, even in times of cathartic change and disaster has been true for me, and a few miracles too (from my perspective anyway), so I dare to call God my Friend. The truest I have ever found. We laugh and we cry, sometimes we sing or just walk along together taking in a sunny day.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-84228002391169844762021-01-22T13:45:00.001-08:002021-01-22T13:48:22.934-08:00On American Unity<p> Greetings friends, Happy January 22, 2021.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">With all the talk about unity I have been hearing lately
in the aftermath of insurrection and Treason I think there are some precursors
to unity that must happen to make it possible. Unity with diametrically opposed
ideas and bad actors is impossible! Unity is like that lofty goal of a “more
perfect Union” that we seem to have been backing away from, guided by those on the
conservative side over the last 40 or 50 years. What I say here is still evolving,
a work in progress in my mind newly sparked by current events and a new
Administration trying to calm things down, as they must. My opinions and beliefs may change or
be more fully fleshed out over time but I think they are worth saying so I
will dive right in…<br />
<br />
We ought to, actually MUST, start by setting up a new Fairness Doctrine for The
FCC that ends the dissemination of un-factual, falsely divisive and spun bits
of fact used to deceive presented as "news". We must dismantle the
false-news machine! Only facts, actual events and verifiable truth should be
called “News”. Politics should once again require equal time given to opposing
views with all parties AND limited to truth and factual information. Bad
mouthing and empty accusations against another or pending legislation must end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Facts” used should be readily verifiable
from credible sources only. Everything else should be <b>clearly</b> labeled
and presented as non verifiable opinion, speculation, hypothetical discussion
or etc. Violators should be heavily fined, lose their broadcast license or license
to own broadcasting facilities depending on the severity of untruth or
malicious intent.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">If facts and investigation by a broadcaster
discovers and reveals flaws or scandals in the government or big business,
there may not repercussions for being the whistle-blower, and the DOJ (vetted
of traitors or partisan folks like those put there by 45 or others) needs to
open an investigation immediately, even if it involves a seated president or
office holders. Indictments may be served.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Schools must be held accountable to teach factual
and a complete and unbiased spectrum of knowledge, civics and history. There is
no excuse for teaching whitewashed bullshit!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We have seen the results of 40s years of anything
goes "news”, and have people today so steeped in it that they can't bear
to hear the truth or understand right from wrong. Imagine being 40 to 50 years
old, having only heard Fox News and right-wing talk shows all your life and
believing it all to be true and having so little education you can't grasp what
is actual fact. That IS what we have in America today and why there are so many
more than one would expect. The military and police forces are full of them
today! Unity will never happen under these conditions! Becoming complacent is
NOT unity!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We have a very big job to show these people real
truth, historical facts and science using the Scientific Method. We must teach
critical thinking and logic again and get those folks to accept it as normal. At
this point in time, I don’t really expect this to be possible because many Americans
are so selfish and feel entitled to dominate others they see as less than or
different. The symbols of defeated enemies – Nazis and The Confederacy, to name
a couple prominent ones – need to be criminalized. Showing them publicly other
than historical re-enactments and in museums should be considered Treason. It
looks to me like making nice and not cracking down on them has allowed this
resurgence of those ideals and helped foment insurrection and Treason. Freedom
of speech is one thing, but acting out in violence and treachery as a result of
prevocational speech should not be tolerated, especially in high level leaders,
office holders and public figures.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It is a huge task, but if we ever want tangible unity,
it has to be done! And it has to be consistent and constant. We have to be
careful not to become oppressive or authoritarian in reaction to appalling events,
but we can’t just let things go for the sake of “making nice”. Justice must be
served for all. We must counter with truth and honest intent in law and
jurisprudence as well as in education and social action.<br />
<br />I for one refuse to be united or even complacent with traitors and unrepentant
fascists, confederates or supremacists, racists, violent nationalists and etc.
Or wrongly educated, wrongly indoctrinated fools for that matter. Embracing the
willful ignorance as promoted by the GOP today and by large corporations
backing them has created so many mindless minions <b>is NOT unity!</b> It is
insanity and will bring the end of Democracy Even if we have an otherwise ideal
Administration. And while this new one is a landmark one worth celebrating, I
don’t think we will go far enough or be firm enough to solve the underlying
problems. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The insurrection planners and
their backers remain at large are not going away, and now many of them with the
temporary silencing of Parler have learned to use encrypted communications to
make further plans, and keep on undermining Democracy. They may not be making
so much noise, but they will be back and we must put systems in place rapidly
to be ready for them. We must never underestimate the power and incipience of
ignorance, especially when held in thrall by sociopaths and haters. <br />
<br />
Unity might be able to meet that this threat, but we are far from ready for
unity. IMHO.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-55298757459164827222020-12-30T19:07:00.000-08:002020-12-30T19:07:04.515-08:00Good-Bye 2020...<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Good-bye 2020…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">…and for the
most part, good fucking riddance!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
[Sighs of relief all around. Breathe out the old and evil, breathe in the new
and hopeful…]<br />
<br />
It has been ages since I sat down and decided to write for my Blog. Some of
that was due to the brain sucking power of Facebook, some to circumstance and
depression. Chronic pain added a great deal to “circumstance and depression”.
But I also, with my ADHD, I’m told that chronic procrastination and an
inability to endure tedium are fairly common, and I have those in spades! Even
without back pain and joint problems from Arthritis or a resurgence of
Dysphoria-like thinking regarding my age or being listed in my medical records
as “Morbidly Obese”. I moved to Naperville, Illinois in 2015 to care give for
my elderly mother, who passed in 2017.<br />
<br />
Then in November I came down with a case of Covid-19, 16 days of Hell! Until
then I had thought my pain levels to be extreme at times and often could find
no motivation to do anything but sleep, so even the ongoing reinvention of myself
that started with Transition and everything stalled—even personal hygiene had
slipped because of being so out of sync with who I discovered myself to be in
Transition, and then Covid taught me that I did not know pain or helplessness
at all and gave me a preview. The nasty headache would not quit and in the
worst days that pain was so bad I could not see clearly, everything seemed dim
and not quite solid and the pain got so intense that I could think of nothing
but it. It hurt so bad I seriously thought of killing myself, but simply could
not do anything about those urges because I was too weak and forgetful,
something I am very grateful for now. My waking world was reduced to searing
pain, worse even than when I had hydrazine poisoning in 1988, and I became so
weak and fatigued that I literally could not stand up or hold myself upright
without leaning on the walls or furniture. Going to the toilet became a
terrible struggle and the brain fog and then confusion and forgetting what I
was doing even as I was doing it. That scared the shit out of me and humbled me
and put my general (non-covid) state of decline into a new perspective, I saw
what the end result of allowing this decline to continue would be. I had just
cared for my mother as she was dying and that was a grueling affair physically
and emotionally and so the last couple years I have just been floating and
letting things slide. She was 93, but generally in good health, but she had
given up on the World and her beloved Democracy because it had become such a
nasty and deception filled shit-storm and she just did not want to exist
anymore because it was all so confusing, and living was so tedious and
frustrating being so weak and having to depend on me for everything. Here I am
in my mid 60’s I just “celebrated” turning 66 myself but was already very much
falling into the same condition as my mother who was 93 when she passed. (For
the moment I am not going to rage about politics, though I really want to and I
will soon enough).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I do not
celebrate getting old and etc., especially in capitalist America. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think there is anything much graceful
in it to celebrate!... but now I see it differently. Covid showed me I want to
live and do things—like travel and be able to schlep my newly upgraded photo
gear with me into scenic places beyond just highway rest stops or my local
river and prairie preserves so I can get the good shots too—and so I must
change my attitude! Dammit, I am NOT done yet</span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype", serif; font-size: 18.6667px;">!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I must follow my own
advice and be my own hero, again. I can still dislike aging, but I can’t let it
make me hopeless and I have to fight the encroaching decrepitude with all the
strength I can muster! Perhaps that is the gracefulness and the Gold in our
“golden years” – ask me in 10 more years and I may have an answer about that.
Even if it isn’t so and years being golden are just a nostalgic pipe-dream of a
raving lunatic, I still have to walk through them and press on to the source
and center of my hopes and dreams that finally broke free from crushing
captivity in 2006 when Eva came fully out and Evan never went home again. So, Covid
left me totally drained of energy, took the last bits of physical fitness I
still had after my long slump and showed me what real pain was. I was like an
old garbage bag emptied of everything that made me, well, me! My mom was that
way at 93 as her body failed her and congestive heart failure and dementia took
her. Not that I want to compare her to that empty sack, because up to the end
she was by no means an empty sack – she remained very sharp until the final
week or so, but that image spoke volumes to me. Mom had an excuse – she WAS
old! Me, I don’t have an excuse, not really, not yet, not for the long haul
anyway. Individual days for time-out and self-care are a different story, but I
am getting my medical care back on track in 2021. I found a trans specialist I will
be seeing out here in Suburban Chicagoland and a major medical provider that
has gone all in on supporting LGBTQ+ folks (Northwestern Medicine). I’m hoping
they can get me on track to find relief in my lower back, knees, ankles and
lately shoulders too. This is the fight I face this year – getting into some
sort of fitness again even though the process will hurt. But I’m worth it and I
need to do this if I am to ever reach my goal of GRS. And you, dear readers,
are worth it too if you have found yourselves in similar straits. Don’t give
up!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
Yeah, I have some shit to deal with and fight daily, but we all have something!
But I still have stuff to do and if mom is an example of how long most in my
family live then I figure I should have 20 more good years before I get to give
into folding of the hands and lengthening time to sleep. <br />
<br />
There is so much else to catch up on since leaving Riverside, feeling betrayed
by some folks in the Trans/LGBTQ community there. The feeling of being kicked
in the teeth after trying so hard to advocate for equality and trans acceptance
still is present in these memories. It sent me into an emotional nose dive in
my first years out here too because I tried to remain as aloof as possible to
avoid being hurt again, this time by people and things I had no experience with
previously. Even so I found myself hosting a Meetup group and as such one local
newspaper latched on to me as sort of a local LGBTQ spokesperson around the
time of the Pulse Massacre in Florida. Any time something LGBTQ newsworthy
happened I got a phone call, and was thrust into things before I was ready. Though
I suppose these things were ready for me to get off my fairly substantial butt.
And National politics were impossible for me to pass by and I have been rather
outspoken and lost several long-time friends. But I am gradually working back
into doing the work that I do love again out here though the social environment
out here is way different than the Inland Empire was and I am glad to have
taken things slow. I did manage to get out to Washington DC in 2019 for the big
Trans Visibility march. Though that has been the last march or protest I have
been able to endure because a few days later my Left knee fell apart, Arthritis
had stripped the cartilage out and suddenly I was in agony and could barely
walk and had to alter and cancel further plans for the East Coast. I have had stem-cell
treatment that worked to get me through this year but it is getting bad again,
so that needs more work too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am one of the original founding Board
members of Naper Pride, Inc. and we are slowly gaining a good reputation in
town with the City Council and Police. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2020’s pride fest was cancelled by Covid and
so much of this year has been regrouping and team building for our core
leadership and getting ready to make an even bigger festival in September a
reality. I was blessed to Preach in 2019 on Pentecost Sunday, June 9th at my
Church here in town (First Congregational, UCC, Naperville), the Pastor was to
be out of town that day and asked me if I would be willing to fill in. That was
also the day of a big 2<sup>nd</sup> annual Pride Parade in our neighboring
city of Aurora, IL and so after the Service many of us from Church rushed over
there and marched in the parade. My sermon Pride and Pentecost was amazingly
well received, as I equated the Spirit of Pentecost with the Spirit of Pride in
being who we are openly and unashamedly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://youtu.be/Sv-_ncxc-vU">Hopefully the link here will take you to
the video on that Sermon.</a> It has taken me this long to get the tools and
learn how to edit together bits from different sources so it is more
presentable than just a phone video. <br />
<br />
Other newish stuff… I am working with a young Writer just graduated from the
local College here in town on a book about my life and some of the very human
and very odd and conflicted folks I have encountered up to this point. My dark
days of drug abuse, life abuse and hopelessness will be in there, and my
transition and reinvention of self and more details about activism and being
hurt deeply by a community leader and my move to the Midwest and some of my
travels too. Even my struggle with pain, depression and aging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I expect I have lost just about all the
followers I had before my move and will have to get out and noticed once again
because I know I will have more to say going forward. I must say that I am a
bit daunted by the idea of putting my past life out into the public eye in more
depth than ever before, and hearing the negative voices that will no doubt have
horrible things to say, but that fear kept me in my closet for my first 50
years and now it isn’t going to stop me from putting my life out there so that
maybe someone else can find strength to be themself openly. If I can help or
save just one or two from the anguish that I went thru then I am glad to be out
and visible. <br /><br />Hugs and Blessings,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Eva-Genevieve!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-61112105521911052342017-07-20T19:02:00.001-07:002017-07-20T19:05:37.720-07:00My friend's Rainbow JourneyI recently met someone from Japan, one who I now consider to be my friend, who is traveling around the world talking to Transgender folk and sharing their stories on his blog. His name is Nao. I want to share his blog with you because he just shared my story. It is written in Japanese and the automated translation doesn't work so well so I apologise if that doesn't work well for you either.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://life-journey.biz/rainbow-journey/2017/07/11/%E3%80%8C%E4%BD%95%E6%AD%B3%E3%81%8B%E3%82%89%E3%81%A7%E3%82%82%E8%87%AA%E5%88%86%E3%81%AB%E6%88%BB%E3%82%8C%E3%82%8B%E3%80%8Deva-genevieve-51%E6%AD%B3%E3%81%AE%E3%82%AB%E3%83%9F%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B0/" target="_blank">Rainbow Journey</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fQ_UMbfW_wysPcpgK1N00G_XrcSsh1apU79jpjl8LmfJ1DKPltgFmreIsXB02QTzI7nrSm1GZv4pX6v0sbqLLmm-4oFakyXnoMxkMDaLckycr3PLcfTCg6lywILz5TsydyFUdOzgIIcX/s1600/6174640736_img_0131-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="888" data-original-width="1334" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fQ_UMbfW_wysPcpgK1N00G_XrcSsh1apU79jpjl8LmfJ1DKPltgFmreIsXB02QTzI7nrSm1GZv4pX6v0sbqLLmm-4oFakyXnoMxkMDaLckycr3PLcfTCg6lywILz5TsydyFUdOzgIIcX/s320/6174640736_img_0131-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Lately I have been caregiving for my elderly mother and have been very scarce on line but I still get my hand in with occasional activist things here in Illinois. As I say this I can feel the backlog of all that has happened weighing me down. Realistically, I probably never will get caught up in here even though I keep thinking that I will try once I get past the inevitable with my mother, when that day arrives in a few weeks or months. You know what "they" say about good intentions though...<br />
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-35471687595316027232015-07-24T15:58:00.000-07:002015-07-24T16:03:27.382-07:00My Ninth Anneversary<br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Today. July 24, is my ninth anniversary as Eva-Genevieve! It was exactly 9 years ago that I made the permanent switch from Evan to Eva, from male to female in my outward gender presentation. All told these have been the absolute best years of my life even with the occasional hiccups of the human condition, both mine and those of others. I am not ashamed of, nor have I any major regrets over the choices I have been making since that balmy July day in 2006. Even the ones that h</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">ave turned out to be mistakes have contained disguised blessings because I have tried to walk humbly before my God. I am thankful to God that I am alive and have my health and even a few wits occasionally - none of these are things I have managed to obtain on my own nor deserved after the wreck I made of my life prior to transition. God is Great and now a chapter in my life closes and a new one begins. I'll be all right so long as I proceed in the light of God's magnificent grace. I will miss so many of you here in Southern California who have enriched my life in the most amazing ways and I will carry all of you in my heart as I go. Tuesday evening I get on the Southwest Chief heading East to make my home in Illinois. I will arrive (God and Amtrak willing) on July 30.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">And so the story begins...</span></span></div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-26718017910613873312015-04-01T11:23:00.000-07:002017-11-15T13:26:50.987-08:00Still I Rise – A message for Women’s History Month and Palm Sunday 2015<div class="MsoBodyText">
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<span style="font-size: 8.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Eva-Genevieve!
Scarborough – March 29, 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am honored to be here today. I
am always humbled when I am asked to speak, especially in Church because I know
the depths to which I have sunk and from which I have been rescued and I
embrace my humanity, but yet the Spirit of God lives within me and so, like the
rocks, I must speak out. Figuratively
I’ve been asked to drive the car today but it is just as likely, or more, that
in other circumstances I’ll be the one to jump out and push – either is an
honor because both bring us closer to God, God who has made and molded us and
given us purpose. I can only pray that my words here today glorify our God and
are used to lift you up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Normally
I would read the passage first before speaking but since I’m already coming at
this from a somewhat unexpected direction I’m putting the cart in front of the
horse and I’m going to save the reading until I close.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I asked if there was
to be a topic beyond being generally something suited to Women’s History month
figuring that a Scripture passage would be forthcoming and I could talk, maybe
about Ruth or another of the heroines of our faith, but no, that would have
been easy. I am familiar with
Scripture… and Science-Fiction – I can talk your ear off about warp drives and
scientific concepts, great Space Opera, and even great women sci-fi authors,
but a poem by Maya Angelou? Not so much – I’ve never been much of a reader of
poetry until very recent years – I suppose it wasn’t until I had accepted
myself fully as God’s woman that poetry ever resonated in me because my spirit was
not free and could not resonate in the ways it does now. What a difference it
makes when one wholly accepts who and what God has created them to be. And if
there is any one thing I would like to impart to every one of you is that you
need to embrace yourself, nurture yourself, and love yourself because God has
made you perfect! With God you can rise.
You can mount up with wings as an eagle! You can feel God’s loving
embrace even when your world is being rocked and shaken all around you. Embrace
God and then embrace yourself and then you will know what it means to be free,
to rise! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Speaking of Maya
Angelou on the occasion of her death, President Obama said she “had the ability
to remind us that we are all God’s children, that we have something to offer.”
And I believe that we all have that ability in us to rise! She found it and I
have found it and many of you here today I know have found it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I know from
recent-past events that Maya was an amazing woman who from very humble, abused
and troubled beginnings rose to great fame and could claim as friends Martin
Luther King and Barack Obama. These are people who most certainly know what it
means to “rise” in the sense of the poet. So the other day I read Maya’s poem
“Still, I Rise” for the first time wondering what I would hear. I was blown
away because here was that same message, the very same thing I have discovered
through my painful and cathartic journey the long way around to being a woman
and often spoken of, but here the poet has spoken so much more eloquently, so
clearly, so brilliantly I can feel my spirit bearing witness with the Holy
Spirit that herein is foundational truth. So this is why I must put my humble
words first because hers shine like the sun! If I were to read her words first
then there would be nothing left for me to say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">There
is also some intersectionality here—a word my Pastor Jane Quandt has been using
a lot of these days—some of which I have never spoken to publicly before and so
I am stretched a bit today. Try being a Christian and an activist for
Transgender and LGB equality, or any justice issue for that matter, and you
will rapidly find opposition on both sides and you left in the middle feeling
all alone, and in these past few weeks this is again stormy territory – friends
have been divided and misunderstandings and angers have flared and I don’t know
what too do and just like that, I feel alone and caught in the middle, but I’m
in good company here. Because I know upon whose promises I stand I can say with
Maya Angelou, “still, I rise”. I think I have the right sense of it, only I
lack the eloquence, the depth and clarity of the poet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And lest I put Maya
on too high a pedestal and she become hard for any of us to relate to let me
hasten to say that she had to pull herself up by her own boot laces and make
something of her life. It was not particularly easy for her, she knew
heartbreak, betrayals and the loss of friends, suffered much, yet she stood
strong – an example for us all to follow. Anyone who has felt the stings of
prejudice, bigotry, abuse, oppression and etc. can find comfort, strength and
hope enough to hold out for rising time right here, right now! Have you been
bent over and broken, stooped down before your oppressor weeping bitter tears
and wanting only to die? I have, and yet my time for triumph over my enemies
came. Though I came close to ending it just a moment before the miracle
happened, I am so very glad that by God’s grace I stuck around – Still, I Rise!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And yes, even though
we celebrate Women’s history this month, you men here can also find what it
takes to “rise” and not as my partner Ken would have said, lose your
“man-card”, though you may find yourself becoming a better and stronger man,
father or husband in the process! Anyone who has been rejected or hurt, or
anyone who has fallen short of the glory of God with just a glimpse of this
truth can grab hold of Christ by faith and you can shout it to the heavens too…
Still, I rise!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<h1>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Galatians 3:28 says of those who believe,</span></h1>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">“<b><sup><span style="background: white;"> </span></sup></b><span style="background: white;">There
is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>nor is there male and female,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” </span><span style="background: white;">Still, <b>We</b> Rise!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">But I also see God’s
fingerprints all over this because intersectionality is God’s special place in
our lives and our world – it is where you’ll find God at work today. How else
could any of us relate to Scripture at all? It spans thousands of years of
written history and thousands more through oral tradition, some of it is told
in great epic style, some as law with specific details for the priestly order
and some in parables or even simple children’s tales and even some boring lists
of genealogy. Yet when we read God’s word we understand it because it resonates
with experiences or feelings we have had and so, whoever we are, we can come to
believe and trust God – we may not be able to explain or define God but we feel
God. And when we hear the words that resonate in the depths of our souls and
spirits, as do many of Maya’s it is here at the crossroads where the
supernatural intersects the natural; we know God is speaking to us, working in
us and using us because it feels familiar. If we stand by faith and hold to the
truth that resonates in our souls we can and will still rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And it is this sense
of familiarity that I have found in Maya’s words that I would highlight briefly
today. This is the intersection where God’s messengers are standing on the
soapbox decrying the evils of the day. This is the intersection where Christ
came to bear our sins on the Cross, to die for us and to give us new life, and
when we internalize this and own Him then the Gospel becomes familiar to us and
we begin to live it—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> not because of the law as many denominations
say but because he first loved us we love Him, and Still, we Rise!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today is Palm Sunday
and so I would like you to reflect on this just a bit over the next week as we
approach Easter, and then remember not only that we shall rise with Christ in
this newness of life but we can do it right here and right now! We don’t have
to wait any longer!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today all over the
news and the Social media feeds we hear voices calling out “Black lives matter”
or “Trans lives matter” and others holler back “All lives matter”. Which of
these is right? Where in this gap would Jesus be standing? That conversation is
still raging in our Nation today and we find some truth on all sides of it and
we find humanity on all sides of it and we all have to stretch, we all have to
broaden our horizons to see the diversity of the human race more clearly and
become more inclusive in our way of thinking and living. We behold the light of
Gods truth, which says it isn’t simply one of these but it is all of these yet
we must stand together with the last and the least of these who have been
trodden under foot , no matter the color of their skin or their gender or any
other God given trait and when we do, Still <b>WE</b> rise! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And we will rise as
we reach out, as Jesus has said, to lift up the downtrodden and care for the
homeless and the elderly and the weak and sick and unwanted among us. We help
those who have been cast down or kicked to the curb to stand again and find
their self worth so that they also can rise. I think the solution comes down to
each one of us being called to reach out to someone in need right where we are;
we are to be instant (ready, prepared), in season and out to speak, preach,
teach and most of all to help others rise. To my fellow transgender brothers
and sisters I say just being ourselves openly can give someone else the courage
to rise up. And to all I say none of us have to do great and powerful works but
Jesus did say that we who believe would do greater things than what those in
his day saw him do! We <b>Should</b> Rise!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, finally, with
these things in mind here is the reading for today’s message, Maya Angelou’s
“Still, I Rise”…</span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype";">“</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">You may write me down in history<br />
With your bitter, twisted lies,<br />
You may tread me in the very dirt<br />
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Does my sassiness upset you?<br />
Why are you beset with gloom?<br />
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells<br />
Pumping in my living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Just like moons and like suns,<br />
With the certainty of tides,<br />
Just like hopes springing high,<br />
Still I’ll rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Did you want to see me broken?<br />
Bowed head and lowered eyes?<br />
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.<br />
Weakened by my soulful cries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Does my haughtiness offend you?<br />
Don’t you take it awful hard<br />
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines<br />
Diggin’ in my own back yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">You may shoot me with your words,<br />
You may cut me with your eyes,<br />
You may kill me with your hatefulness,<br />
But still, like air, I’ll rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Does my sexiness upset you?<br />
Does it come as a surprise<br />
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds<br />
At the meeting of my thighs?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 9.75pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Out of the huts of history’s shame<br />
I rise<br />
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain<br />
I rise<br />
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,<br />
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Leaving behind nights of terror and fear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br />
I rise<br />
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear<br />
I rise<br />
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,<br />
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.<br />
I rise<br />
I rise<br />
I rise.</span><span style="font-family: "palatino linotype"; font-size: 12.0pt;">”</span>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-32570988275715587952014-12-28T14:04:00.001-08:002014-12-28T14:11:49.181-08:00Christmas at First Congregational Church of Riverside CA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXrq8Pi5vfY2hYVcry9uR4vNghAAUAzRDU9Ak4TNPFgmGcTaZDaxj1XdJe2NSYGpPkeKzCcwRTkjO8txDacaJKepM5l8mWQYfsAsw4mGulUjGAg6jAVIFXHRIMiO4-it4hu44-j-Q8Y8Y/s1600/IMG_0502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXrq8Pi5vfY2hYVcry9uR4vNghAAUAzRDU9Ak4TNPFgmGcTaZDaxj1XdJe2NSYGpPkeKzCcwRTkjO8txDacaJKepM5l8mWQYfsAsw4mGulUjGAg6jAVIFXHRIMiO4-it4hu44-j-Q8Y8Y/s1600/IMG_0502.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Basically this is just a link to my "4Shared" site where I have posted a bunch of Advent season photos...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.4shared.com/folder/52X0htoX/Christmas_in_Riverside_at_FCC.html">http://www.4shared.com/folder/52X0htoX/Christmas_in_Riverside_at_FCC.html</a><br />
<br />
...some of which I also shared on Facebook with this commentary "<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Christmas Eve at First Congregational Church of Riverside - I wanted to be sure and capture these events today since this may well be my last Christmas here in Riverside and I want to savor it all. First there were Christmas Carols on the front steps. Then Project Food served up a hot meal for anyone who came by - we do that every Wednesday from 5:30 to 6:30 PM - and then our Christmas Eve Songs and Lessons candlelight service. And then a quick stroll around downtown - The Mission Inn lights, the ice skating, City Hall all light up (Up there on the 7th floor where the tarps are stretched is where we held Royalty on the Roof in November). So there you have Christmas Eve in the heart of Riverside!</span>"<br />
<br />
https://www.facebook.com/EvaGenevieve/posts/10153028426277323?pnref=story<a href="https://www.facebook.com/EvaGenevieve/posts/10153028426277323?pnref=story" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/EvaGenevieve/posts/10153028426277323?pnref=story</a><br />
<br />
Hugs, Blessings and wishes for a Happy New Year to you all,<br />
Eva-Genevieve!<br />
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-51137109494843343962014-12-02T01:12:00.001-08:002014-12-02T11:35:37.715-08:00Regarding Riverside's proclamation - answering a comment<div class="MsoNormal">
Comment regarding Riversides Proclamation (posted below) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm a cis- bi- ally of Trans folks. I'm wondering about the
proclamation as the LGBTQ DOR rather than TDOR. Do you think adding the LGBQ
diminishes the focus on Trans violence issues? Can you share any history as to
how/why the city chose to proclaim it that way? I have some Trans friends who
are, I think understandably, upset with it. Thank you--Joe Reilly"<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No, actually I think
expanding the scope supports these issues because it brings them out into the
open where they ought to be – there is no diminishing of the real issues. Being
a victim of violence, of bullying and other hate crimes is not something limited
to Trans folks. These things happen to Gays, to Women, to people of color, to
anyone seen as different and so even with statistics that are horrible with
respect to Trans folks we can’t be exclusive. We don’t get to stand totally
apart if we want to integrate back into society as equals. We have to reach out
to others and support them if we want them to do the same for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Building community is
what we are trying to accomplish here in Riverside and it must include everyone
or it will fail. To be included means we have to learn to be inclusive and we Trans
folks have to initiate it because right now we are seen as the bottom level of
humanity by many. Maybe we will be the ones to start resolving it IF we don’t
shut others out in the process, even if some of them have done it to us. Change
can, must, start with us. We have to
learn to share our special days and work through our issues with others who have
similar experiences. There are not enough days in the year to give every
identity their own special day. What we need to be doing is merging together
with others to put an end to the problem of bullying and hate crimes and
violence at the level of it being a human problem rather than a Trans only
issue. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Many cities have
established LGBT centers with lots of services and groups and outreach to
specific target groups like Trans and Homeless youth & etc., but Riverside
has no such thing other than one privately funded shelter that serves LGBT
youth under 17. The only sense of established “community” is a downtown coffee
house and a couple gay bars. If the facts
I have been given by our Human Relations Commission are correct then this
proclamation is the very first City acknowledgement of anyone in the LGBT
spectrum and as such we—a diverse group of Trans and LGB activists and CIS
allies—agreed that it would be counterproductive to take this first crumb from
the City and assign it exclusively to just one segment of the spectrum when we
have many Gay and Lesbian folk and others who have struggled for
acknowledgement here for 30, 40 or more years. I have personally spent over 8
years working towards this end and have put out call after call in support
groups, on-line forums and on Facebook for trans people to join me in this work
but only a tiny handful have taken part, so out of necessity I turned to our long-time
LGB and CIS allies and our progressive Churches. Without them we would not have
held any of our 4 annual Trans Days of Remembrance, we would not have been able
to host an entire week of Trans Awareness events Nov 17<sup>th</sup> -23<sup>rd</sup>
here this year, and we would have no services at all here for trans folks so we
must not and will not throw our allies under the bus now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Were this LA or Palm
Springs, San Diego, San Francisco or even San Luis Obispo there would already
be an LGBT establishment such as these cities have and we would have been able
to handle this proclamation differently. However because there is minimal LGBT
establishment here we have to have something to build upon in order to
establish it in a lasting way. Mostly the “community” here is just little
splinter groups and factions in which everyone nitpicks each other when we try
to work together. In fact every time one of these groups tries to get investors
for a project or to establish an LGBT center here other factions start
undermining the effort and being divisive, so no one invests in our
“community”. Mark Takano our Congressman is openly gay but he has distanced
himself from the LGBT community here because it is so unstable and immature. Therefore
we asked that LGBT Day of Remembrance be proclaimed annually on Nov 21<sup>st</sup>
because we still wish to honor and respect the Trans people of the world on the
20<sup>th</sup> and stand with them while trying to establish a sense of common
ground for growth here. We see this as expanding rather than diminishing the
impact of TDoR observances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With this proclamation
coming from the City it was our hope that it would be a foundation upon which
to start uniting fragmentary groups back together without all the attendant
sniping of the past, but already trans people who don’t seem to grasp the
bigger situation are sniping and complaining and undermining the very historic
significance of this accomplishment. So, no, I don’t think your trans friends’ upset
is understandable at all. I’m sure I will get flak for saying this but I
believe it is the ones complaining and grumbling who need to change, to stop
being so exclusive of others in their thinking, to work with others instead of
pushing their it’s-our-day-and-ours-only kind of agenda at the rest of us gender
and sexually diverse folk. The Trans “community” will never come into its own
until we accept being equal with others that are not Trans because otherwise we
continue teaching people that some are special and others not, and that just
happens to be the root of the entire problem! As humans we should be working to
end the problems common to humans. Anything less is futile in my opinion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 19.9733333587647px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 19.9733333587647px;">This is the released version of the Proclamation with the corrected date. The first issue with the 20th on it was an error. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSvTN_X96jg_wxkOvyRGC_Uuzyn3fNOCeqr5gslTAH4etCu8c1-ribcMKGlFfrP1tzOeLStUp3ojNzIcFepFFAsJYoizDz3KYBsFOY800bdihR78Wk-sAuKzNsDqSQ-DwdMeTuouJkeA0/s1600/Riverside+Proclamation_LGBT+Day+of+Remembrance_11-21-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSvTN_X96jg_wxkOvyRGC_Uuzyn3fNOCeqr5gslTAH4etCu8c1-ribcMKGlFfrP1tzOeLStUp3ojNzIcFepFFAsJYoizDz3KYBsFOY800bdihR78Wk-sAuKzNsDqSQ-DwdMeTuouJkeA0/s1600/Riverside+Proclamation_LGBT+Day+of+Remembrance_11-21-14.jpg" height="640" width="490" /></a></span></div>
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Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-41673218471902127532014-12-01T21:31:00.000-08:002014-12-01T21:31:00.307-08:00Transgender Day of Remembrance, Nov 20, 2014 at First Congregational Church of Riverside, Day 4 of Transgender Awareness WeekThe video of Transgender Day of Remembrance, Nov 20, 2014 at First Congregational Church of Riverside, Day 4 of Transgender Awareness Week is finished...
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hdsmKgEnt-4" width="560"></iframe>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-30719069349303168662014-11-18T11:47:00.000-08:002014-12-02T11:38:10.907-08:00Worthy of Celebration...The LGBTQ... community in the City of Riverside were presented with this City Proclamation by Riverside's Human Relations Commission last night during our Transgender Awareness Week kickoff event. This is worthy of celebration!!! Many people have spent many long and hard years of advocacy and activism to make this possible. Thanks to every one of you!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRVM95MuWLeG_MTYrxzpa817u9425nuoswWHJPBXMg6CsC90ozECsNds58q9fMydWar6AjWQpkNtWG3g0fPFMEFahuqGd5LtBtoW2DFQ2A-Ffm_dbmKiuY2YM3GmApPHdjK09hy_ADUNDd/s1600/Riverside+Proclamation_LGBT+Day+of+Remembrance_11-21-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRVM95MuWLeG_MTYrxzpa817u9425nuoswWHJPBXMg6CsC90ozECsNds58q9fMydWar6AjWQpkNtWG3g0fPFMEFahuqGd5LtBtoW2DFQ2A-Ffm_dbmKiuY2YM3GmApPHdjK09hy_ADUNDd/s1600/Riverside+Proclamation_LGBT+Day+of+Remembrance_11-21-14.jpg" height="640" width="490" /></a></div>
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Gabriel Maldonado, the Commission's LGBT Liaison did the presenting and I did the receiving. It was a great honor - this is yours now!</div>
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Hugs and Blessings,</div>
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Eva-Genevieve!</div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-33817831338887295552014-10-30T14:21:00.003-07:002014-11-13T10:27:25.454-08:00Riverside California's Week of Transgender Awareness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWL1WyLonhXQWY2drlUnsT6RVHIOFbS2OVz5WDsAkHX43ymwTL0ThKm8x33za9HjtsQn57iKOeGKOz2irSWpRvkxPZGAv-urPiYAbL0VYKO54k4HziGTx6sDKblGyUJLFyl15eTOAwFOUM/s1600/TAW2014Flier_Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWL1WyLonhXQWY2drlUnsT6RVHIOFbS2OVz5WDsAkHX43ymwTL0ThKm8x33za9HjtsQn57iKOeGKOz2irSWpRvkxPZGAv-urPiYAbL0VYKO54k4HziGTx6sDKblGyUJLFyl15eTOAwFOUM/s640/TAW2014Flier_Final.jpg" width="491" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;">Here is the text content of the flier - can be copied and shared as text. Thanks EG!</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text0:0:$4:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text0:0:$4:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Total Trans* immersion! See </span><a class="" data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$range0:0" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/RTGA.2014" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/RTGA.2014</a><span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text1:0:$0:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;"> for updates and additions to this list.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Monday, Nov. 17th: LGBT and ally residents of Riverside are invited to be part of city's first Equality Alliance of Riverside meeting where you will hear from local LGBT leadership, our community's needs, and ways to help in creating an LGBT-friendly Riverside. Please RSVP by Nov 15 @ Dr.DiSalvatore@gmail.com or text (951) 224-4798 for details.</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text1:0:$8:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text1:0:$8:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Tuesday the 18th, Trans-Basics 6-9PM La Sierra High Auditorium 4145 La Sierra, Riverside w/Rev. Benita Ramsey, Kristie & Jaden Handzlik from Temecula PFLAG. Join a national call-in at 10amPST, please register to get the call information @</span><a class="" data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$range1:0" dir="ltr" href="http://bit.ly/TransLivesMatter" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/TransLivesMatter</a><span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text2:0:$0:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">. (Type link exactly as written or it will error! Also a TransLivesMatter event 3:00pm Vermont & Santa Monica in LA).</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text2:0:$4:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Wednesday the 19th, First Congregational Church will be a free screening of “Trans: The Movie” at 6:30PM followed by Q&A with Sarah Tyler, the mother of Danann, a trans child featured in the movie. Free admission.</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text2:0:$8:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$text2:0:$8:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Thursday the 20th: VA Loma Linda 11:30 AM till 1PM will hold its First Annual, open to the public, formal TDoR observance 11201 Benton St, Loma Linda, CA 92354 Contact Shelly Ann for more info shellyannahlerich@</span><a class="" data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$range2:0" dir="ltr" href="http://live.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">live.com.</a><span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0" style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;"> </span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$4:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Then at 7 PM First Congregational Church hosts their 4th annual, Transgender Day of Remembrance observance in Downtown Riverside with Rev. Rizi Xavier Timane, a transgender minister, an author, a recording artist, and an outspoken advocate for the LGBT community, Anna Tower who lost her trans-identified partner to suicide, and Jaden and Kristie Handzlik who also spoke at last year’s TDoR. Free admission. FCC is a Safe Space—come as you identify!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Friday the 21st at the Grier Pavilion 7th floor, Riverside City Hall from 7 to 9 PM is “Royalty on the Rooftop” a presentation of Inland Empire Drag Kings and Queens. Admission $7 for adults, $5 for students, free under 12.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Saturday morning the 22nd, In the morning at Riverside City College’s Cosmetology facility, on Olivewood Ave, from 9 AM to 1 PM the students there will host a free Makeover Day. Free haircut, style, mani/pedi, makeover, makeup help, or those interested in what it feels like to be made up as the opposite gender. Several trans individuals will be speaking during the event too — all are welcome. Come have some fun!</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".l.1:3:1:$comment747473458663796_747475171996958:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$16:0" style="background-color: #fafbfb; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.2880001068115px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Saturday evening: VerbalEyze: Youth Open Mic & Arts Exhibit 6:00 Art Exhibition/7:00 Open Mic. The Unity Center 2025 Chicago Avenue, Suite A 20, Riverside 92507, Sponsors: Rainbow Pride Alliance, TruEvolution, PFLAG Temecula, in conjunction with CAGSI. To sign up for open mic contact us at riversidetransgenderawareness@gmail.com</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Sunday, the 23rd at First Congregational Church at 3:30 PM – an original one act play, "Now and Then Beyond the Glass" presented by Bent Not Broken Inspired and friends followed immediately by Riverside’s 4th annual TDoR Candlelight Memorial remembering Trans folks and others murdered for simply daring to be themselves and those who supported them.</span><span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 12.2880001068115px;">Followed at 5PM by the First Congregational Church’s afternoon “As You Are” service themed for Trans Day of Remembrance too—Eva-Genevieve! Scarborough will be speaking. FCC is a Safe Space—come as you identify, ALL are welcome as you are!</span></div>
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Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-40364935601973653712014-08-20T09:22:00.005-07:002014-08-20T21:16:00.758-07:00Things Happening in Riverside Calif. this NovemberRiverside Trans*Gender Awareness Coalition - RT*GA<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We are looking for volunteers to help plan and staff several events in November from the 17th to 23rd. Transgender Awareness Week. On Thursday the 20th and the Sunday the 23rd we observe Transgender day Of Remembrance, Thursday with informative speakers and Sunday we host Riverside's 4th annual TDoR Candlelight Memorial, remembering those who have died simply because they dared to live an authentic life. Wednesday that week we will be screening "Trans; The Movie" and Sarah Tyler, who is one of the movie's featured parents of a trans child, will be there to speak and answer audience questions. Friday night is Royals on the Rooftop - a drag show at City Hall!! In the Grier Pavilion. Details will be forth coming soon so stay tuned...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Contact me for more info. of if you want to help. evagenevieve@yahoo.com</span><br />
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-83587716200798166092014-08-18T08:16:00.000-07:002014-08-19T09:06:42.491-07:00A Surprisingly Good Breakfast<div class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;">
Recently I embarked on a rather lengthy journey across the
country the main intent of which was to spend some time with my mom but also to
see my 2 sons and then do some sightseeing in places I have not been. I stopped
for 4 days in San Francisco first and then took Amtrak to Naperville, Illinois.
I am about to conclude a two-month stay at my mom’s place and next weekend I
will resume my travels. I will spend a couple of days in Chicago and then, also
traveling by Amtrak, to Glacier National Park, Seattle, Portland before going
to my favorite refresh myself spot on California’s Central Coast (San Luis
Obispo) and then home to Riverside, Calif.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21AhG1Ub1hvWY4go3jc6dSm5biaNkKab5OeEapfxJpqJXexeD96AAJtFM9eWQH81LAkg4hIxEGmCnp2zs7tmSLHoF-aXbDDaBW7kZ_RgeeHrLJ6BQAupP6jmmUN_C1E3HLT7gzzW-1wsH/s1600/IMG_4022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21AhG1Ub1hvWY4go3jc6dSm5biaNkKab5OeEapfxJpqJXexeD96AAJtFM9eWQH81LAkg4hIxEGmCnp2zs7tmSLHoF-aXbDDaBW7kZ_RgeeHrLJ6BQAupP6jmmUN_C1E3HLT7gzzW-1wsH/s1600/IMG_4022.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> Eventually I will post a bunch of photos, or links to them and some more details but for now some can be seen on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/EvaGenevieve">my Facebook page</a> but for now I
felt like posting here again to describe something nice that happened.</div>
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I rented a car and drove to the Cleveland Area to see my
two sons. Yesterday morning (Aug 17, 2014) before heading back to Illinois with
my boys so they can visit with my mom some I decided to go have a nice
breakfast since, for some reason, I always get overly hungry when traveling. I
wanted to be able to drive a good distance without stopping. In Middleburgh</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBh_ex7jkSjOlN6hBQFYWex6ETl_sNu0uMI4y-6auolAYIRBOn0cM9ICvTruwJk28MJ0DobIRfzf8RDu3WgwV-jq7-Hv938eYXmphCZF-OL28pjy5pKVnci3zTaxATt0Z1GPzEsqqf5BSd/s1600/IMG_4038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBh_ex7jkSjOlN6hBQFYWex6ETl_sNu0uMI4y-6auolAYIRBOn0cM9ICvTruwJk28MJ0DobIRfzf8RDu3WgwV-jq7-Hv938eYXmphCZF-OL28pjy5pKVnci3zTaxATt0Z1GPzEsqqf5BSd/s1600/IMG_4038.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a><br />
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Heights, Ohio, across the street from several motels, is a Perkins Restaurant.
Over many years of visiting this area I have found it to be consistently good
and this morning was no exception, in fact the food and service were excellent.</div>
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I was eating and, as usual, reading
my Sci-Fi book and generally having a pleasant morning. Then my waiter informed
me that someone had paid the bill for my breakfast. Yup, just like that – out
of the blue! But he did not say whom it
was who paid so I sat there astounded, looking around to try and pick out the
culprit. If this had happened at a bar with someone buying a drink for me I
would expect to get hit on but nobody in the place seemed to be paying any
attention to me after that fashion. A while later the restaurant host came by
and told me the staff had decided to cover my bill. So what was an already
excellent meal was made that much better and that really made my day. I feel
very welcomed there, kind of like it has become a family place for me now. I
feel sort of bad that I won’t be able to go back there until whatever next-time
I have in the area where my sons reside. </div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzh6wpUkIuMY4pZqVrk_IQt4lGhHZUBZ2eesEQUTtmgaZdoS9v4Fh9DQjwMDhyj964GpZFgrJaqWD-QKKE2y-2PI701IvhQKaMoo7GtRFG2mx2h4H0KK4DqISqIo2P40K31Wk6Fnvs5fD/s1600/Perkins+Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzh6wpUkIuMY4pZqVrk_IQt4lGhHZUBZ2eesEQUTtmgaZdoS9v4Fh9DQjwMDhyj964GpZFgrJaqWD-QKKE2y-2PI701IvhQKaMoo7GtRFG2mx2h4H0KK4DqISqIo2P40K31Wk6Fnvs5fD/s1600/Perkins+Logo.jpg" /></a> Since I can’t thank them for their random act of kindness by
eating there often here’s a plug for their restaurant in Middleburgh Heights OH…</div>
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<a href="http://www.perkinsrestaurants.com/">http://www.perkinsrestaurants.com/</a> You folks are awesome! Thanks.</div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-72930009049303362014-02-21T21:53:00.000-08:002014-02-21T21:53:17.229-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1c63OhcwEMPRlD2VW8EkCuE6AvV-h-M5bjt0xNnLuggVDAklMtR5vkfeHmSw6-WM_sYsF1Ls4uF1qhmjX4SodQ51jfYHn-OrCU5ZrKlHA3_Jgm7dQ7WfJfABnge5BGZ3x5A_BfEnRSQl5/s1600/Eva+at+TDoR+-+PE+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1c63OhcwEMPRlD2VW8EkCuE6AvV-h-M5bjt0xNnLuggVDAklMtR5vkfeHmSw6-WM_sYsF1Ls4uF1qhmjX4SodQ51jfYHn-OrCU5ZrKlHA3_Jgm7dQ7WfJfABnge5BGZ3x5A_BfEnRSQl5/s320/Eva+at+TDoR+-+PE+photo.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
Greetings Friends,
<br />
<br />
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The planning for Transgender Day of Remembrance 2014 observance in Riverside, California has started and we are hoping this year to expand to having an event every day of Transgender Awareness Week – which is November 17th thru the 23rd. It remains to be seen if we can pull together enough talent and resources and venues but we are thinking BIG this year. </div>
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This will be our 4th annual TDoR in Riverside too.
We are looking for Transgender folk as well as LGBTQ… and straight allies who are musicians, songwriters, singers, actors, playwrights, stage crew and techies, poets, orators, filmmakers (to either document the events and/or present their works) and etc. who have a passion for activism, justice, equality and who want to do something special to spotlight the strengths hopes and fears of Transgender people in the world. </div>
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We are also looking for financial supporters and for venues suitable for various events. At this point we have no funding and we hope to keep every event free so anyone can attend these events. And that is why we are putting out our call so early this year. </div>
<br />
Please contact me privately at evagenevieve@yahoo.com if you are able to help us this year.
Sincere thanks in advance,<br />
Eva-Genevieve! Scarborough
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-26542541234937672122013-06-01T10:22:00.001-07:002013-06-01T10:22:37.982-07:00VA Loma Linda Celebrates LGBT Pride Month!<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes we have come a long way!! VA Loma Linda Celebrates LGBT Pride Month! Need I say more?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9HsosKwGecKAeg11Rba2GB0gWcNW73ZuTRRzAPBJPz0VxQiIEjOtCNxq94G9n8cfYZ7jnZJbG-XkmtRcAee8EwYgxdsYxPAlcqR7KW7cMpm2X9k7M1Og8DfErWOsQB9gnd_-pIEOUPdy/s1600/VA_final+flyer-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9HsosKwGecKAeg11Rba2GB0gWcNW73ZuTRRzAPBJPz0VxQiIEjOtCNxq94G9n8cfYZ7jnZJbG-XkmtRcAee8EwYgxdsYxPAlcqR7KW7cMpm2X9k7M1Og8DfErWOsQB9gnd_-pIEOUPdy/s640/VA_final+flyer-1.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-68161885277667924842013-03-21T14:59:00.004-07:002013-03-21T14:59:41.714-07:00Six Things Straight People Should Stop Saying about Gay PeopleMy friend Kathy is at it again - hitting the nail on the head with her Blog Canyonwalker Connections. Her latest post "Six Things Straight People Should Stop Saying about Gay People" can be found here:<br />
<a href="http://canyonwalkerconnections.com/six-things-straight-people-should-stop-saying-about-gay-people/">http://canyonwalkerconnections.com/six-things-straight-people-should-stop-saying-about-gay-people/</a><br />
<br />
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-17962249805668009632013-03-11T12:29:00.002-07:002013-03-24T10:05:33.169-07:00<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Hi everyone,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21-XH8TkF8ojlUFryr7fPwMDg438KpcA6s-IdQT_67kqEu2Od_Sav0FDUmWklPQCNG7CZZaSJu81-pJUD0ngKaAh2zLn3gPfaHFKmkpi0ibiKVP3totI2oVzV3nJslbCKK3QJ7DJ_X_rm/s1600/New+Glasses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21-XH8TkF8ojlUFryr7fPwMDg438KpcA6s-IdQT_67kqEu2Od_Sav0FDUmWklPQCNG7CZZaSJu81-pJUD0ngKaAh2zLn3gPfaHFKmkpi0ibiKVP3totI2oVzV3nJslbCKK3QJ7DJ_X_rm/s400/New+Glasses.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just wanted to let you know that, should you happen by here, I am still here, but I have been sucked in to Facebook where it is easier to be lazy and share memes, likes and snarky comments. I'm also on "LinkedIn", GCN (Gay Christian Network) mostly in the Transgender message board and on PinkEssence but I hardly ever get over there - I blame my lack of presence on interface overload and to make that worse I just set up a Skype account (but don't know who to "call" yet). </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lots of stuff is going on out here in the Inland Empire - several trans and LGB groups and community activities and politics in general and still lots of Church activities so when I'm not in too much pain I keep busy, but like I said it is more likely to see that activity on Facebook. </span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This Friday I have been invited to speak to the GSA at Colony High School in Ontario and I am looking forward to that. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: magenta;">OK, done checking in - see you around the 'net' somewhere.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: magenta;">Hugs,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Eva-Genevieve!</span>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-16948245550619627102012-12-28T08:20:00.003-08:002013-12-20T09:06:12.932-08:00What the Pope Said...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I find I must preface this post because our current Pope Francis seems to be just about right on in many of the things he has been saying - what he will say or do regarding T and LGB folks remains to be seen but on other current affairs he is spot on. He seems to me to be taking stands on issues as I believe Jesus himself would and I truly appreciate the man! This post is referring to his immediate predecessor.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Recently</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"> the Pope has made some pretty disparaging remarks about Gays and Transgender people and the other day I read a very excellent blog commentary about this on th</span><span style="color: #bf9000;">e</span> <a href="http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/12/23/1173446/-For-he-has-met-the-enemy-and-it-is-us?fb_action_ids=10151385269047323&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=hovercard" target="_blank">Daily KOS titled "<u>For he has met the enemy...and it is us</u>"</a>. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkefYTc_StSuGuy0NpgAVkxNsy8gIxDnzfC1VtTt4g5NHMkuQv8RPaJaWlZH91VGgcFEzzweQyXQF5xBlQ1x8rE8cydd3bnSfRJVYZ5PxEzmg8OVaMdLE2aciSVUbmekHpCjidHBVr2Km6/s1600/Period.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkefYTc_StSuGuy0NpgAVkxNsy8gIxDnzfC1VtTt4g5NHMkuQv8RPaJaWlZH91VGgcFEzzweQyXQF5xBlQ1x8rE8cydd3bnSfRJVYZ5PxEzmg8OVaMdLE2aciSVUbmekHpCjidHBVr2Km6/s320/Period.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After being prompted by the afore mentioned blog to give some thought to where my faith and the fact of my being trans puts me in relationship to the one man looked to by a large percentage of the world's population I found that I can not remain silent and be true to myself and my God. The Pope is now a bully of the worst order. I made a personal vow many years back that I would not remain silent when I encounter wrong being done. I may not be effective to stop the bullying but I can raise my voice and call a spade a spade. After all who am I compared to the Pope?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not just the trans movement is damaged but society in general if his foolishness is taken seriously by others, as it will be by much of the R.C. Church. Willful ignorance of scientific facts regarding the nature of human beings, of neurological discoveries and psychological facts in the last few decades is dangerous to everyone his Church encounters, not to mention I think it is sinful to deny such clear facts. Even St. Paul said regarding homosexuality "lets look at nature..." and if he had the same level of technology at hand as we do today his comments in Romans 8 would have been very different because nature proves them wrong now that we can look so close at nature. Paul has the excuse of living in a non-technical society 2000 years ago, an excuse the current Pope does not have. Religion and religious leaders need to be relevant to life in the 21st century to be believable or trustworthy - obviously this Pope is neither. The closed minded, foolish and harmful stance of the Pope and therefore of the Roman Catholic Church is just plain wrong. I'm sorry if this offends some who read this but when someone in a position of authority is wrong and is using that position to cause harm to a select group of people (whom God created and blessed with unique and diverse attributes including gender and sexuality that isn't strictly binary in nature) then that person needs to be called out. He is acting against Scriptural principals, and certainly not in any manner resembling loving one's neighbor and he is wrongfully judging people based on mere appearances, something Jesus said specifically to stop doing. I would personally call the Pope a terrorist because of what he has said about gay people. The blood of innocents will be on the Pope's hands because his words will incite bullies and be used by killers to justify their actions against LGBT people. I say to him, Irresponsible, terrorist Pope - repent!</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivBITi3dc7pih0QjbEP2LMwHllDPaDZ0I3Idjrt5VfvxlBMHhDCCEf3HU6RoviaVZYHZ8VVZL9I-4GkqqZBxrTFD_SHHwI9A1NgZHtGkNlJjg4_HE16GVOhiSyK7WZQUe9QVHFnonOtYfB/s1600/Fear-Ignorance-Hate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivBITi3dc7pih0QjbEP2LMwHllDPaDZ0I3Idjrt5VfvxlBMHhDCCEf3HU6RoviaVZYHZ8VVZL9I-4GkqqZBxrTFD_SHHwI9A1NgZHtGkNlJjg4_HE16GVOhiSyK7WZQUe9QVHFnonOtYfB/s200/Fear-Ignorance-Hate.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hugs and Blessings</span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Eva-Genevieve!</span></div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-58870951372512388882012-12-12T08:03:00.003-08:002012-12-12T08:03:41.650-08:00Transstories: A Glimpse Into A Life... and that life just happens to be mine.<br />
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This is a short movie made by a friend of mine, Ivy Kensinger, and a classmate of hers, Christopher Ourth (aka: Kristopher James), for their Production Class at UCR earlier this year - 2012.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Basically the title says it. We filmed about 3-1/2 hours at several locations I often frequent around Riverside - nail salon, my Church, the local coffee house - and I answered many questions in my ADHD fashion which meant that there was a gosh-awful amount of editing to organize my rambling answers into a 16 minute video.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm always very nervous when a camera is pointed at me and I get very fidgety when I'm on the spot as you will see, but nobody died and no cute furry animals were harmed in the process so I figure this is worth sharing.</div>
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I am a freelance activist around So. Calif., though mostly my efforts are here in what we lovingly call the Inland Empire for LGBTQ, Civil and Human rights and also for Faith without Prejudice.</div>
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It is my hope that this movie will help enlighten people about transgender folks and put the lie to all the misinformation about us from bigots and closed minded religious individuals. Also that it will help other trans-folks learn to accept themselves the way they are and find enough inner peace that they can come out and live their life openly.</div>
<br />
Here' Part 1:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LXq9vz9QbGc" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
and here's Part 2:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NHF5WQMgv0E" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<br />
Hugs and Blessings,<br />
Eva-Genevieve!<br />
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-29726767653777644732012-12-06T16:19:00.000-08:002014-08-19T09:17:54.049-07:00on Coming Out<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of you have read most of this in previous posts over the years but I just submitted my coming out story to <a href="http://www.soulforce.org/?awt_l=OYxVQ&awt_m=3WBTZUK8qDZjS6Z" target="_blank">"Soulforce" as part of their "Repent Campaign" which is directed towards Fundamentalists. </a> I present it to you here:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Coming out has been a
long, painful, cathartic and ultimately very rewarding process. I will start
with my conversion – itself a process with full of coincidence and comedy, and
in the end God “got me” with his sense of humor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Several times in my
youth people shared the Gospel with me using the old standard Billy Graham
“Steps to Peace with God” tract and I remember each one very clearly from 8
years old at a friend’s home up to and including the time I was riding with a
friend in a loaner car while his new Toyota truck was in for repair and we
found a copy of said tract in the glove box. We, being college-age smart-alecs,
made a mockery of it by crossing out “God” and putting in “Toyota”, references
to Jesus we changed to “your Toyota dealer” and several other things that made
it hilarious and over the years we have laughed about it heartily. Sometimes I
still do because this is how God woke me up to his existence in my life, all my
life, all the way back through all those encounters with godly people and that
little booklet – and may I say that it is still God’s sense of humor that
endears me to him the most because we can laugh together – me with God. Go
figure, laughing like school-children together hand-in-hand with God instead of
at Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I would never have
believed it possible until one Saturday afternoon in April of 1980 I was sitting alone in my
apartment recovering from the previous day’s extreme drug abuse. I was a person
deeply troubled by many issues that have only in the last few years become
clear and some diagnosed and treated. I was severely ADHD and also it turns out
transgender. In my struggles to cope I had turned to drugs for escape, to feel
like I could be someone else, someone with some inner peace. Though the drugs
always fell short of that goal it was the best I could do on my own to cope
with being female on the inside and so obviously male on the outside and so
screwed up in life; that inner turmoil never giving me any peace and always
messing up my life at just the wrong moments – what a wretch I was. That
Saturday I knew that without a doubt I was lost and without hope in the world
after the bender I had been on, and then…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> >knock,knock,knock<<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two people at my door
with a survey. It turned out to be a Campus Crusade for Christ survey being
used by a local home based Church near my home. I invited them in and got them
cokes to drink because it was a very warm So. Calif. day and they looked kind
of worn out. We sat and I took the survey and we became friends as we laughed
about stuff and made small-talk too. Just as they were getting ready to leave –
Sandra asked if she could share a little book about the Gospel with me and out
came that little Billy Graham booklet! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">…Oh
no! It </span></span><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19.09090805053711px; line-height: 21.81818199157715px;">couldn't</span></span><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> be... <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You know that sinking
kinda feeling you get when you are busted with your hand in the cookie jar or
when you know you are really caught in something wrong? Well, it was in that
moment that God got me and I knew it. In that same instant I knew God and Jesus
were real and in my life and had always been there just waiting for me to look
them in the eye and believe, and I could feel them laughing and saying
“gotcha!” So I promised to come to the Church meeting the following weekend, I
did and I met lots of nice folks and made some friends and I seemed to fit in.
Then a few weeks later I went to their big service, called the Rally, where all
the home churches met and heard the Pastor preach and during that message I was
convinced of my sin and need for salvation. I wanted to belong to Jesus with
all my heart so I rushed forward and that night I put my trust in the Lord –
that was May 4<sup>th</sup> 1980. I still have the recording of that sermon and
I listen to it from time to time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">As a newbie I got
involved in lots of stuff in the Church and continued to feel welcome and
wanted, after a few years I even got married to a girl I met there and had 2
sons (who I was just reunited with earlier this year after being apart for many
years). But as the euphoria of being newly saved wore off I became more and
more aware of my old inner gender turmoil and the struggle with what I now know
to be ADHD. Being unable to stay focused in times of stress and feeling like I
was holding on to and keeping down a big dark blob in my soul pressed on me to
the point I felt like maybe I wasn’t really “saved”. During that time my gay
brother passed away from complications of AIDS – Kaposi’s lesions all the way
into his lungs – it was an ugly death and the only “comfort” I got from the
Pastor was being told (I paraphrase but this is the very gist of it) “Don’t
feel too bad because you know he chose that lifestyle, so why don’t you pass
out Gospel tracts at the funeral” (And I even did it – what a snot I was in
those days).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As a result there was
a lot of inner turmoil, doubt, self-hatred and self-loathing in my life and
drugs started to become an escape from feeling again because I could no longer
find help or understanding in the Church where, for a while I had even been the
poster-child of “salvation from the evils of cross-dressing”. But still I towed
the line of the Church and stayed very busy with the work and even participated
in the Church’s reparative therapy sessions to no avail. But there came a day
that I was thrown out of that church for disagreeing with the Pastor on a point
of scripture – at least this was the proverbial last-straw – he wanted to sue
another Church because some people had left our Church and started going to
that other one and then started bad-mouthing us as being a cult and stuff like
that. (Sadly much of what they said was true but I never mentioned I harbored
such thoughts to anyone in those days but it weighed on my soul because I felt
conflicted by it). I said we should not sue them but the Pastor twisted the
words in Corinthians to imply that because they left us they were lost and not
truly Christians or truly a Church and therefore they could be sued without
violating Scripture. I disagreed, saying that we ought to be able to turn the
other cheek and not air our dirty laundry in the courts. And it was about a
week later I got a letter from the Church’s Associate Pastor dropping me from
the Church and barring me from ever attending there again. That was the very same
day my father died from Alzheimer’s disease and Lung Cancer. The Pastors knew I
was struggling with this but cut me loose after 14 years of my faithful,
obedient and zealous service without mercy or compassion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I discovered that the
love of God was no longer there in that place and that hurt to the core of my
being. I felt so used and abused. My life hit the skids then because I lost any
and all of my spiritual moorings, though somehow God kept hold of me even through
the very depths of depravity to which I sank, and it was a very long and deep
darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Crash and burn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over the next decade,
among many other disasters, I got busted for drug possession, my marriage
failed, my children were taken away out of state in contempt of court and I
could not afford the lawyers to stop it over the Christmas holiday. So I died
another death in my soul, and my life became more and more riddled with drug
abuse to the point of destitution and homelessness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I learned to hate the
Church and hate people who proclaimed the gospel but showed no mercy to people
they didn’t know or understand – like I myself had done for many years in that
Church preaching on the streets of Los Angeles, Hollywood and West Hollywood –
preaching fire and brimstone messages in front of the clubs and sex shops even
while knowing that I might be hurting some of the hearers. I learned to openly
hate myself and everything about my life because I felt I was living a total
lie. And yet there in my deepest despair was God trying to love me – He never
did let go of me – while I was yet sinning and ruining my life more and more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then finally I got
help for my mental disorder – a demonstrably life-long Christian relative (I
call her my Catholic angel – the only person in my life who did not simply
write me off) got me to see a therapist and that is how I found out that I
wasn’t crazy or just cursed by God but had a diagnosable condition, severe
adult ADHD that was to some extent treatable and I got the help I needed for
the anxiety and depressions and panic I suffered with. Then with some clarity
of mind I was finally able to address my gender dysphoria. Knowing that I
wasn’t crazy allowed me to understand that in being Transgender God had given
me a gift and not a curse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It took many years
after this for me to heal enough and forgive enough – myself and others – to
get back to Church, to trust a Pastor, or a congregation, and I must say I
still distrust many Evangelicals and Fundamentalists, especially those who run
large, I call them “industrial strength”, super-churches because they leave so
many people with so many wrong ideas about God and Love and mercy and
compassion. But I have found my way back into a Church and a congregation that
has fully embraced me. Finding my way back to faith enabled me to come out
fully to the world around me and begin my transition in earnest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Being transgender is
how I was lovingly formed in the womb with the full intentions of my loving
God. God does not make mistakes and does everything because he is Love.
Therefore I was not and am not a mistake!! God loves me the way He made me! I
am very much made in the image of God! Accepting myself this way was like being
born-again a second time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">God rushed back into
my life because now I could worship Him in Spirit and in TRUTH; the whole,
contiguous me was no longer divided with self-loathing, there was no longer any
dark “evil” blob to keep hidden deep in my soul because that was actually the
very best part of me being kept down by hurtful dogma and tradition. The lie I had
been trying to live all those years was gone. There was just me and God holding
hands and laughing again because I was really free to be me!! I didn’t have to
hide the best part of me from God or anyone anymore. Talk about a revival of
body, soul and spirit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Eva Unchained!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To be whole and
complete and free before God and man! Even the need for drug abuse faded away –
7 years clean now - because I have nothing to hide and no need to run away from
myself anymore and in the place of the running and hiding I get to celebrate my
freedom with God. In this reconciliation of myself-as-created with the
God-who-never-let-me-go I get to be God’s girl now and I am privileged to share
God’s love with people I meet. In don’t have to judge but only share the love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Though I am disabled –
in part I am sure from trying to live the wrong life for so long as all the
fear, hiding and shame surely took their toll – now I am a volunteer activist
here in the Riverside, Calif. area for LGBT, civil and human rights for all and
also as an activist for Faith without Prejudice and I get to work and speak out
for justice; I do what I can, when I can and somehow God gets me through the
days when I can’t. </span><span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">This past November at
my Church (First Congregational Church, Riverside – an Open and Affirming UCC
member congregation) I organized our 2</span><sup style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; line-height: 115%;">nd</sup><span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> annual Transgender Day of
Remembrance observance and we will keep it up every year. And I occasionally
get to speak about my life and better still I sometimes get the opportunity to
preach the Gospel and that is my most favorite thing to do because it is so
awesome to know that God’s truth is being spoken through me – me this quirky,
shy, nerdy, sometimes very disoriented and fragmented trans-woman gets to feel
God’s inspiration writing the words and then nervously (because I still have a
lot of anxiety and hypertension) stand up to preach them and feel the Holy Spirit
flow through me as I do. I understand now how Scripture in some places was
inspired because I have experienced it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I hope one day to be
able to take this message of God’s love for every person he created back to the
Fundamentalists who actually did lead me into my living relationship with God
back in May of 1980. I know the main Church is still there in Downtown LA
because I have walked past it on several occasions while changing buses on a
nearby corner and seen the faces of a few people I used to call friends in that
other life I tried to live. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t know what
their focus or ethos is now, but based on what I know of them from my time there
from May 4<sup>th</sup> 1980 until June of 1995 this is what I would say to
them (and I believe I hear the Spirit of God saying “Amen”):<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Please
keep zealously loving God and each other, but don’t put God in the narrow box
that the old traditions would have you do because it shuts out so much and so
many that God is creating now, new, perfect and complete. God has made the World
and the Universe completely diverse and God is continuing to do so with the Human
Race – there is no gender binary in God’s creation just as there is no binary
in the spectrum of light. There is a whole range of beauty and blessing in
every shade and hue of humanity, so let ALL the people bloom. Each person,
whether straight, gay, lesbian, bi or whatever ones attractions, and
transgender folks – also a whole range of gender diversity and expression unto
themselves – should be accepted openly and fully into the family of God. Every
living soul should be allowed to live openly the way God made them, even if you
don’t understand them or understand how such a one can be </span></i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">”that”<i> way. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Simply
let God understand them and you pass on His love to them. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Trying
to force someone to change their nature is like trying to force the leopard to
change her spots – it can’t be done without killing the leopard. Be instruments
of God’s love and inclusion to all humans, so that, if they will, they can come
and drink freely of the water of life. Don’t pick and choose among people and don’t
hinder any of these little ones from coming! Don’t choke out the Good News!
That narrow and judgmental view of people and of what is misconstrued as
“choice” that you call “truth” is really only a tool of the Devil used to
spiritually and emotionally clobber people and keep them away from salvation, and
it generates so much anger and confusion, pain and resentment – and results in death
in many cases – in the process. Please let that all go! Rise to a higher level
of spiritual awakening that includes every living soul.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Please
for Christ’s sake let it all go. Let healing and reconciliation take its
place. Please. In Jesus’ name I pray.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Hugs and Blessings,<br />
Eva-Genevieve! Scarborough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-2465457249070858852012-11-20T11:33:00.002-08:002012-11-20T11:47:55.982-08:00Transgender Day of Remembrance 2012 in Riverside<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjENpoS-h9hFa6C3LEjYc4eZJHqnrXy1rUG96wLIB6edE0luBtO_finTmjLbStrcCXmFwmMZduA-RxPe4A-ond4I-sJ79ngu6Tqb48taLOJwvy7OM8NJ8GE3E9cwoeRo-3L3LH7Qr44tEgV/s1600/Lamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjENpoS-h9hFa6C3LEjYc4eZJHqnrXy1rUG96wLIB6edE0luBtO_finTmjLbStrcCXmFwmMZduA-RxPe4A-ond4I-sJ79ngu6Tqb48taLOJwvy7OM8NJ8GE3E9cwoeRo-3L3LH7Qr44tEgV/s320/Lamp.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Here in Riverside our TDoR event came off without a hitch. Transgender Veterans and appropriate healthcare was the topic of our speakers from The VA Loma Linda Healthcare System, though I don't have the text of their words to post here, at least not yet.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Then we held the Candlelight Memorial where many names were remembered out loud. I spoke these words:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">“It
is estimated that one trans person per month on average is killed in a hate
crime in the United States. In the last year, an estimated 250 gender
variant/trans people were reported murdered worldwide. The term transgender
refers to people whose gender identity, expression, or behavior is different
from those typically associated with their assigned sex at birth” – this from
Nancy Cook of KTAL News, Shreveport, Louisiana.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">That
is higher than statistics I have seen prior to 2010 and the trend still seems
to be rising now that LGBT issues are often in the news. Many are pushing back
against us so we must be careful these days out walking and going about our
business – when possible go with a friend. Be aware of your surroundings –
don’t look fearful but look around often and look people in the face as you
pass – act like you belong there. Don’t have your music up so loud that you
would not hear someone approaching from behind or just leave your tunes at home.
If you don’t feel safe in a place you enter leave immediately and try to stay
around well lit, populated places when you can. Avoid alleys or poorly lit
short-cuts. Any self-defense coach will give you much the same advice; avoiding danger is your first line of self-defense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">Transgender
Day of Remembrance in its original form recognizes those who have been murdered
simply for being themselves. The people we name out loud shortly speak clearly.
However I believe that this remembrance should not only be about those murdered
but it should necessarily include the many who are bullied to death as well –
the murderer may be long gone when an actual death happens, but though it be
ruled technically a suicide I strongly believe that there is a culprit or
culprits to blame. Many of these deaths never get reported and their names
never again spoken aloud and that breaks my heart!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">Our
society is so good at bullying, and at excusing it. We see it on TV in sitcoms,
in commercials, on the exploitative talk shows all the time and we often think
it’s funny so most people don't even understand that when they tease others
they might be hurting someone or pushing one over the edge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">I
can’t even begin to speak of the harm done by families, social organizations and
Churches that bully and reject their own, and I can’t talk about it without
getting worked up. And then there are those who aren't doing it with intent but
simply think their teasing is all in fun, not thinking what others might feel
or about the consequences their words or actions towards others may harbor. Not
thinking it might not be funny at all, but tragic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">There
are always consequences for even the smallest of actions. You may not ever see
them but they are there. You may not get a reaction on the spot, but there
always is one––alone, in the dark, the tears, the rage, the hopelessness, the
drugs, the bleeding, the dying––yes, there always is one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">We
on the receiving end learn to take it with a straight face but we hold this
stuff in and for some it builds up to the point of ruined self-esteem or worse;
<span style="background: white;">chronic depression or other mental disorders,
cutting or other self-abuse,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span>drug
abuse, and suicide if the drugs can't numb the pain or provide enough of an
escape. The statistics about bullying gathered in recent months bear this out
clearly enough too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">So
we start here once again to remember, to understand, to feel and share the
pain, learning to love and accept others and help them heal even if we can’t
quite fathom the driving force in their life. By remembering these who have
been murdered and bullied to death, by pondering who and what they might have
become, maybe, just maybe we can make life better for others today who are
heading into such a crisis. Maybe one of you will save the life of someone you
encounter simply by replacing a frown with a kind word or a smile or perhaps by
standing up to a bully picking on someone else within your hearing – just a
word or two is all it takes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large;">What
any one of us can do is an individual, on-the-spot decision, but let us start
here today in these moments by remembering these passed souls as if they were a
loved one, a dear friend, a brother or sister, or someone that we could respect
and revere or simply have a chat with. And yes, let us feel our loss. Most
importantly we must let this loss change us, sensitize us and embolden us to embrace
others who are different, remembering that they need our love and our care too.
We are our brother’s and sister’s keepers and we must resolve it in our own
hearts here and now to keep all of them with loving kindness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Thank
you all for participating.</span>"<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Our event was written up in the local paper, The Press Enterprise by David Olson:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blog.pe.com/multicultural-beat/2012/11/17/1021/">http://blog.pe.com/multicultural-beat/2012/11/17/1021/</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hugs and Blessings,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Eva-Genevieve!</span><br />
<br />
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-30811550969919710482012-10-31T09:30:00.004-07:002012-10-31T09:30:52.105-07:00Change of SpeakerHere's the updated TDoR Flier. One of the speakers has, for medical reasons, become unable to participate.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KARqdGX3rbEdFlhSMh5qTKrg5IvBRljlC9KG91lPoNguoZdGr5qnw7a7L1hgYtPwEz4vO26KvWHc4nwsrhmxBW2rlfZE2gSl81Ko6VwrHQK38Vz99oXwuVeJN9ggG5OTsJKD-EisSNlt/s1600/TDOR2012_+flier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KARqdGX3rbEdFlhSMh5qTKrg5IvBRljlC9KG91lPoNguoZdGr5qnw7a7L1hgYtPwEz4vO26KvWHc4nwsrhmxBW2rlfZE2gSl81Ko6VwrHQK38Vz99oXwuVeJN9ggG5OTsJKD-EisSNlt/s640/TDOR2012_+flier.jpg" width="408" /></a></div>
<br />Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-9813000812518934642012-09-28T19:52:00.001-07:002012-09-28T19:52:43.111-07:00Transgender Day of Remembrance 2012, Riverside CAThis is our 2nd annual observance at First Congregational Church in Riverside CA of the International Transgender day of Remembrance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bnXiLQsZoaK7XasU_QbbyR3s1C1aNNXoiE4SK8yObSq7CbnYEU-8rQ3S0Dr9OkfQmjsa2TJDVuDahhkJD1TxubAe3ierOzUugM4LaY1TayoWt230AWEAQlBR0-MPDcaGPw2CM64FbkGS/s1600/TDOR2012_+flier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bnXiLQsZoaK7XasU_QbbyR3s1C1aNNXoiE4SK8yObSq7CbnYEU-8rQ3S0Dr9OkfQmjsa2TJDVuDahhkJD1TxubAe3ierOzUugM4LaY1TayoWt230AWEAQlBR0-MPDcaGPw2CM64FbkGS/s640/TDOR2012_+flier.jpg" width="411" /></a></div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-69992570504297910582012-09-20T08:30:00.000-07:002012-09-20T08:35:59.079-07:00Register to vote on-line!!! (for California Residents)<br />
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729975"><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729967"><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729996" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 18px;">This is so very cool. Californians can now Register to vote on-line!!! <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299288" style="font-weight: bold;">Please pass this link to everyone you know and encourage them to register if they have not already done so</span>.</span></span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729991" style="line-height: 18px;">I just did - I had to since I just moved. It took all of about 5 or 6 minutes and I could even print out a receipt. And by selecting the vote by mail option I don't have</span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show" id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729976" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"> to worry about being able to make it to the Polling place. The process is simple!! (Though it may be just a bit clunky on slower Internet connections).</span><br />
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"><br /></span>
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970">Now there is <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729981" style="font-weight: bold;">no excuse</span> not to vote for anyone short of being mentally incapacitated.</span><br />
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"><br /></span>
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970">here's the link to register:</span><br />
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"><br /></span>
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Frtv.sos.ca.gov%2Felections%2Fregister-to-vote%2F&h=xAQH8HUme&s=1" id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729958" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://rtv.sos.ca.gov/elections/register-to-vote/</a></span></div>
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729970">
</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299267"><br id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299277" /></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299272">_____________________________________________________________</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299250"><br id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299260" /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299255">Here's my opinions:</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299233"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729999"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Please learn about the issues and candidates and vote this November. And if nothing else Please vote for anyone other than Romney for President - remember that he thinks you are a mindless, useless lazy slug (or worse) - </span><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729986" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;">prove him wrong!!! VOTE!!!!</span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299247"><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299242" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299104">Please vote <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299138" style="font-weight: bold;">Yes</span> on Prop 30 to support education (and public safety), </span><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299146">and Vote <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299151" style="font-weight: bold;">No</span> on 38 - on the surface 38 sounds better than 30 but it is set up in such a way that whatever money it raises for schools the same amount can be taken away from the general fund by the legislature to fund other things thus robbing any gain made - and you know they will just like they did with all that money for schools that was to come from the Lottery. Prop 30 does not allow this kind of shady diversion of funds. Molly Mullen (very, very wealthy) who personally funds the 38 effort has spent lots of money to promote it but it is a flawed proposition - please vote yes on 30 and no on 38.</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299165"><br id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299168" /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299158">Please vote </span><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299133" style="font-weight: bold;">No</span><span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299177"> on 32 - don't believe the false hype put forth by rich corporations. This is just another of their attempts to shut down their political opposition. Unless you love the rich corporations and love their greed and corruption, their buying of candidates, their grabs for government control and their shady super-pacs <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299217" style="font-weight: bold;">a no vote is the correct one</span>!</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299180"><br id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299190" /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299185">Please vote <span id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299197" style="font-weight: bold;">Yes</span> on 35 - this stiffens the penalties for sex trafficking to more than just a slap on the hand and will be a big help in the fight to stop it! This is a much bigger problem here in California than most people realize. I was shocked - check out their web site for details, </span><a href="http://www.caseact.org/" id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299297" style="color: blue; cursor: text !important;">http://www.caseact.org/</a></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
<br id="yui_3_2_0_16_1348152697299304" /></div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
Hugs and Blessings,</div>
<div id="yui_3_2_0_16_134815269729942" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'bookman old style', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 18px;">
Eva-Genevieve!</div>
Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791373253545709506.post-46569273176572218412012-08-31T11:18:00.000-07:002012-08-31T11:18:11.559-07:00Is This Just a Phase?<span style="font-size: large;">Trans youth conference in Riverside:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Eva-Genevieve!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05487094656415792068noreply@blogger.com0