The Birth of My “Sissyboy” Self, and More Recollections on This Year’s Pride
The “fabulous hat”—the red cowboy hat with silver stars—is in the closet now with my other hats, and the “Sissyboys Unite” sign made for me by my sweetie at the Trans Pride rally is crumpled in the corner, ’cause it got wet at the rally, but for me, the good memories remain. In fact, I think this year’s Pride events in Seattle, were some of the most amazing, compelling and fun I’ve seen in the over 30 years I’ve lived in the Northwest.
My fondest memory, among many, is coming upon a crowd of loving, peaceful protesters, who had surrounded some anti-Gay evangelical Christians with many, many rainbow flags and the protester’s own beautiful bodies. There were two young Queer women kissing, a young Trans person, decorated with affirming writing and stickers on his half-clad body, and a woman who’d most likely came for the later Dyke march, marshalling her young children, who were curious as to what was happening. I,
having decided at Trans Pride to “come out” as a “sissyboy” (a Gay Transman, joyfully embracing my femme/glam side), just leaned down and told the two kids that there were some mean minded people trying to ruin the joy, and that they, the kids, should never try to be those folks. Mom smiled at me, grateful. I think that this explanation calmed down her overly excited kids. And after that, a cute girl kissed me, making that day’s Broadway Festival part of Pride the best ever.
Sunday, the end of the Pride weekend, I hung out with my church, Emerald City MCC (as I had the day before at Broadway Pride), at our booth, passing out stickers that read “God Made Me Queer,” “God Made Me Trans,” “Straight Ally,” “God Made Me Awesome,” and “God Made Me Lesbian” (a very popular favorite among actual Lesbians and some Queer male allies). It was a joy to talk to folks who were on hand to celebrate Pride, and to show support for those murdered at Pulse Nightclub in Orlando a week earlier. In fact, the large crowds for this year’s Pride events, I think were a direct response to that tragedy, and it was good to see so much diversity and joy after having attended the vigil for those killed in Orlando only a week before (where I cried my eyes out with other Queer/Trans/Ally folks).
Also, the yearly Interfaith Service at Pilgrim’s Church, (where my pastor led the proceedings this year), was even better, with a nearly overflow crowd showing up. The messages from the diverse group of spiritual representatives, including, this year, a pagan representative, was for hope, and for demanding
continued fighting for justice for Queer people. It filled me with a connectedness that lasted for the rest of the weekend. It was also great this year to do a circle with the Sufi representatives, with seven other folks attending this service. And by the end of Sunday, walking with a bit of a limp from my arthritic knee, I was joyfully exhausted and cheered to see a young man playing bagpipes as I left the Seattle Center, where the partying was still in high gear. I smiled to see that he was only wearing a bit of glitter and a smile, happily showing his Pride in the best way. Can’t wait ’til next year!
James is a Seattle writer/cancer warrior/psychic/medium.
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