“What is that?”

This is wondered aloud by multiple students upon passing me, sometimes daily.

I do not blame them for this question.

I can answer it simply, I’m a queer, autistic transman.

But I know that’s not the answer they’re looking for, or even the question they are asking.

They are asking “why aren’t you normal?”, as if they are running a diagnostic on a computer. 

And my answer would still stand. 

It goes hand in hand with why everything is so political with me. Because my very existence is political. Wherever I go, transgender people, even the youth – sometimes especially the youth – are painted as monsters that lurk in your bathrooms and wait to indoctrinate your kids. Queer people are accused of much of the same, predatory actions and taking up space they “don’t deserve” because they’ve “already gotten so much”. The autonomy of autistic kids is debated, because “do they really know what’s best for them?” and “how would they survive on their own?” as if we are not living, breathing organisms who can, very well, process what you’re saying.

I can hear you. I just don’t like speaking. 

Because when I speak, I am branded as the loud, aggressive tranny. The same one who has to leave social situations when too many people talk, or when a light is flickering at just a frequency I can hear. The same one who gets along better with animals than humans because at least animals can recognize we’re all just here for survival anyway and can spare the decency that humans lack. 

Speaking of a lack of decency among humans, 

Did you know 82% of transgender individuals have considered killing themselves, and 40% have actually tried? 49% of queer youth reported bullying and discrimination in the past year, and those who reported bullying had significantly higher rates of attempting suicide. Did you know that due to more and more states passing anti-transgender legislation, the suicide rate of transgender and gender nonconforming teens has gone up by 72%?

Did you know that 1.8 million queer kids and teens have seriously considered suicide? Did you know that every 45 seconds, another trans youth attempts suicide. In the time it takes you to read this editorial, at least 3 of my siblings could be gone. 

Even with the last two statistics being from 2021, I can guarantee you that these numbers still ring true or are even higher with the current state of our world. 

I become outspoken, “political,” because all the pieces of me are directly tied to politics. All these pieces are tied down to cement blocks by society, sinking deeper and deeper in colder waters. But when I thrash and try to gasp for air, I’m the problem? And not those who put them there?

I’ve lived long enough masking myself, dampening my emotions and output of expression, condensing my identity until I can feel it trying to burst out from beneath my skin. And I won’t do it any longer. I will wear what I am, draped in all black and spikes, loud and proud, the same way poison dart frogs gleam through the rainforest, broadcasting the simple message: touch me and you’ll regret it. 

I do not  mind going through life like a dog with its teeth bared.

“What is that?” is a valid question. One I don’t blame you for asking. But I implore you to also ask that question of  the world around you.