One week ago a tall, slender, middle-aged woman in a nice dress approached my desk at the library. Her hair was a dull, doll's hair brunette. She wore heavy makeup on a long, strong-jawed face. She spoke to me in a quiet falsetto. Can you show me where the self-help books are? There was vulnerability all over her.
I knew immediately. I knew that she... had once been a he. As we walked in silence, past Fiction, past Graphic Novels, past A to B, to BF, to Chicken Soup for the Soul, to Joel Osteen, to Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, it didn't matter. It--the undefinable It--was not the only thing that made her her.
Sometimes my prejudices are surprised out of me. I am not comfortable with them. I don't even like admitting that I have them.
But I do. And I like it when I meet Others, and my prejudices--unacknowledged or otherwise--are blown out, gently, like a candle.
And I am filled with understanding.
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I almost just posted an impassioned entry about how I’m tired of people’s reactions to Travis’s and my, hmm, public affection... But I’ll tr... -
Travis bought this about three weeks ago while I was in Alabama for my three-day library school orientation. It was sitting on his desk when... -
Okay. So, I have this new rule for myself: Don't get defensive. About anything. If I'm not guilty of whatever it is someone is ass...
2 comments:
its nice to be caught off guard. i feel like we are more authentic in those situations (for good or ill) because we have to navigate new territory. good to see you posting again, pear!
You are in Vegas. There is more and more in this society to teach us to be understanding.
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