As a feminist culture, at Twin Oaks we tend to disregard traditional
gender roles and behavior. Women and men choose their roles In the
community based on their Interests, strengths, and passions, not on any
-one else's preconceived notions.... We all wear clothing we find
comfortable-pants for working In, skirts for coolness or
festivity-heedless of mainstream Ideas of "acceptable" fashion choices.
Our commitment to fostering a supportive and joyful environment for all
people-women, men, lesbians, gays, and
tiffany rings for sale-Is an Integral part of Twin Oaks Community."
These words, more than any others on the Twin Oaks website, offered me hope.
I had just completed a full year en femme-what is known in transgender tiffany earrings for sale
as the Real Life Test, even acquiring a California state ID labeling my
sex as "F"-and although I was living in the ultraliberal San Francisco
area, my trans life was no cakewalk. Whether it was my age (almost 50),
my scant resume (ten years as a middle-class housewife), or my
biological "destiny" (a woman cursed with male hormones), the job
market was anything but liberal. Please, oh please, I pleaded with
fate, don't let me turn 50 behind a cash register!
Who would take a chance on an old tranny recently pink-slipped from an increasingly untenable marriage?
How about "utopia?" I figured an egalitarian community proclaiming
feminist ideals would offer me a shot at a new life-perhaps even a
happy life.
I was fatigued by the daily discipline to "pass" as female-a full hour shaving body hair, tiffany necklaces on sale
hour applying lotions and makeup, topped off by 30 minutes putting
together an outfit and polishing my nails. And, however presentable I
became, it was back to a vampire's crypt twelve hours later. The
expense of the upkeep was staggering, especially in trendy Silicon
Valley where $200 designer jeans are considered mere Starbucks attire.
And what for? Just to hear, "Thank you, ma'am," at Victoria's Secret?
For 90-minute increments of "affection" from randy trannychasers?
Perhaps Twin Oaks was a place I could be fern without the artifice,
I surmised. After all, however overcompensating my presentation-skirts,
stockings, and dangly earrings being a necessity for survival in the
transphobic mainstream-I'm no Barbie bimbo. I'm down with
scorched-earth feminists like Andrea Dworkin, I'm inspired by gender
liberationists like Riki Wilchins, I dance to Yoko Ono records, and I
know Anita Hill did the right thing. My Marxist heart isn't exactly
seduced by the trans "community" where the weary old class system is
reconfigured in the terms "non-op" and "post-op."
But "utopia" wasn't a cakewalk either-at least immediately. I visited in August 2007, confident I'd cheap tiffany accessories
my freedom to be pink, but to my mortification I was informed the
community was not especially impressed by the me they met. Twin Oaks
suggested I visit again. Sensitive to prejudice as all transgendered
people are, I read between the lines when perusing my input, focusing
bitterly on one woman's stated concerns of my having "body image
issues." Lady, I thought, if your chest sprouted hairs like a werewolf,
you'd probably have a few "issues" too.
Trans isn't all I am. I am not necessarily just my body. I'm
actually looking for a world where I can put less energy into "being"
trans. As I so often tell other transgendered women cooing over heels
and swooning over corsets, it's not how you look; it's what you do.
Fashion, I believe, is narcissistic; femininity is caring about others.
Philosophers and feminists have said, correctly I think, that the
feminine impulse is toward social connection: family, friends-in a
word, community. It seemed intuitive for me to seek the caring,
income-sharing feminist culture of Twin Oaks. I wanted to get out of
myself-and into something wider, deeper, more enduring. Like gardening.
So, back for a second visit I went, attempting to tone down my pink
presentation (although it's universally acknowledged that trannies
emphasize gender clich茅s under duress). Although I can only offer
conjecture, I believe some resistance to my membership arose from
precedent; apparently the only transwoman who had lived at Twin Oaks
before me was described to me as a classic wolf in sheep's clothing-a
perfumed, swishing male chauvinist pig. Determined to overcome the
unwanted association, I worked harder, listened more carefully and
preened less frequently. Community, I kept reminding myself, means
contributing selflessly, acting with empathetic compassion-and staying
mellow.
For the most part, the members of Twin Oaks helped me feel right at home.
I heard more encouraging words ("Thanks for keeping the kitchen so
clean"; "I appreciate you doing so many hammock setups"; even "Groovy
outfit there") during my six weeks of visiting Twin Oaks than I had
heard during my ten-year marriage. Although there were a few holdouts,
the overwhelming majority of communitarians referred to me by my
preferred pronoun. Considering I abandoned shaving my arms and wearing
makeup, that showed real courtesy. With the exception of a couple of
feminists, perhaps still ideologically swayed by the notion of a
"transsexual empire," the queers especially rolled out the pink carpet
for my membership bid.
Like Hillary, I nevertheless had some opposition to surmount.
I was crestfallen to receive a "gift" of Barbie merchandise from a
feminist woman I particularly admired. (I returned the gesture by
giving her a Yoko Ono Imagine Peace button). I heard it said that one
person could never consider anyone with a five o'clock shadow to be a
"real" woman. (Would I ever say hairy armpits made her a man?)
Sometimes a comment on my appearance ("Well, aren't you looking bright
today!") was phrased in the italics of a sly putdown. Most discouraging
was the evening I returned to the communal laundry room where my
freshly washed and labeled pink outfits had been mischievously dumped
on the floor and hidden. Sigh.
Still, that's a far cry from Boys Don't Cry! Hell, it was nothing
compared to the indignities I endured during my ten-year marriage
("We're not going out with you in that skirt!"). Compared to the
multitudes of smiles and hugs I received during my visits, the little
barbs were a drop in the bucket. I was up for it-determined to warm all
skeptical hearts, at least in good time. Imagine my delight when,
finally accepted as a provisional member, I arrived, suitcase in tow,
to hear the words "welcome home" repeated sweetly to me throughout that
dramatic first day. Significantly, a member who voted against my
membership simply-but sincerely-said to me, "good morning."
It sure felt like home. And that was only the beginning.
I couldn't believe my ears the day I heard another member, who was working with me and a tiffany for sale,
say, "Ask Calliope, she knows how to do that." My confidence was in
rapid ascent. Soon enough, I was muscling in on Commie Clothes, the
communal free store, sorting through blouses and shirts and stringing
up holiday lights to make it look like a fab boutique. Unlike my
marriage, where meals were prepared, served, and cleaned up without
audible recognition, in community there's always someone with a
positive comment responding to however humble or tentative an endeavor.
It makes me reach higher. As Helen Reddy sang, "I come back even
stronger, not a novice any longer, 'cause you've deepened the
conviction in my soul."
Twin Oaks is a busy little town. The sight of "some ugly broad" in a
pink miniskirt doesn't carry shock value for very long. Gender drama is
transitory. There are hammocks to make, dinners to prepare, commercial
tofu to process, weeds to yank out of the garden. Here, it's a real
Real Life Test every day. Soon enough I transcend my trans, content
that in a short time I have gone from Hedwig to comrade. In
becoming-day by day-just another communard, I am permitted the luxury
to pass on "passing." I can even get in touch with my masculine self-a
rare opportunity in the transgender community, where hierarchies of
gender presentation carry strict censures of behavior.
Would I recommend community to other transgendered folks? I would
say don't expect Utopia-but don't anticipate transphobia, either. I
believe it comes down to an individual-by-individual interaction.
Versatility is probably the single most important quality anyone of any
gender needs to thrive in community. For the gurls, there's a place for
stiletto heels (dance nights)-but keep those Big Chucks for garden
shifts. For the bois, you can macho all you want lifting heavy
things-but you get extra points for touchy-feely talk at the dinner
table. "Both Sides Now" works well. Role-playing doesn't go far in
community; all too soon, you are you-and that's cool.
Twin Oaks's "disregard [for] traditional gender roles and behavior"
has eased-and edified-my particular trans journey. Woman power! And I
believe I've shown Twin Oaks that transgendered people are just
people-infinitely arrayed. I'm very happy Twin Oaks and I overcame our
nervous few first dates and are now working on a real relationship.
I offer very warm thanks to Hawina for guiding me so conscientiously through the membership processes