bronwen is born

forged in a furnace of ignorance, cynicism and hubris, bronwen is born in a storm of talent, purpose and grace.

i left work as Terrence for the last time on saturday the 21st of january 2017… the day the fascist sociopath took office in Washington D.C., a day that i spent sulking and refusing to provide my co-workers with my usual entertainment value.

i was being silent. they were used to me expressing my anger at the blatant and illegal way that i was being humiliated, allowed to wear Women’s clothes and makeup, but not my hair. to them it was a way to fill the excruciatingly boring hours in the surveillance room, watching nothing, trying not to fall asleep. they found hearing me vent my anguish to be at least better than that.

they didn’t seem to realize it, but they added to my suffering even as they claimed to “support me” by “listening” with their refusal to share my indignation or see the significance that it was all based on the lie that the Tribe’s Attorney explained to me in reply to my formal Gender Discrimination Grievance. he told me in writing that the Tribe i work for isn’t obligated to follow basic Civil Rights anti-discrimination law. but there it is in black and white in their own employee manual where it clearly states that the Tribe has agreed to abide by these laws under the terms of it’s Compact with the State. my co-workers just shrugged at this information. without legal representation and no alternate employment opportunity to fall back on, i was trapped.

i had chosen two months ago not to fight the Boss head-on over their dishonest and needless harassment and take a different approach: get a Court Order declaring me to be a Legally Female Person named bronwen. my co-workers had counseled me to be calm and congratulated my “doing such a good job” of accepting humiliation while subtly letting me know that they thought i was just being silly and complaining about trivialities (“no! really! your crew cut hair looks great! look there’s CELEBRITIES who have their hair cut short, you should think POSITIVE!”)… the same deflated defeated attitude they have toward Black Lives Matter, or Planned Parenthood… they respect people who are “mature” and “reasonable” and obedient and who wait it out, not those who struggle to make it all stop.

i’d endured the two months of humbling myself and now thankfully, it was almost time. good thing because i was out of patience with these people with whom i am compelled to spend the lion’s shear of my life with.   the wait was almost over.

instead of being the usual “fiery hothead” reality TV show for my co-workers on that saturday i committed a small act of rebellion in our little room at work, listening to the beautifully defiant Women’s March in Washington on DemocracyNOW!. my heart soared at their expressions of fury and love and i cried with pride when i heard the Transgender woman speak, but then i turned it off. i was too dismayed at the gulf between my co-workers and me over the meaning of 500,000+ people demonstrating our refusal to accept a fascist coup, suffering their soto vocce utter disinterest and smug disdain at “the uselessness of protest”… a hallmark of many of their vintage 1980’s generation, addicted to xbox and amazon and makes and models of cars and too-hip sexism and “humorous” racism and liquor and their ideological nihilism… the slogans of their kind being “there’s nothing you can do…” “they’re all corrupt, they’re all the same…” and “that’s never gonna happen…”

their complete lack of real historical education or interest combined with their hubris and fascination with advertising hype made me physically and emotionally sick. these weighed on me that day, combined with the weight of two months of discrimination based on lies that i had no rights, forced to wait it out until monday the 23rd, just a day away… it was a bad day.

but at its end, i walked out knowing that when i returned, if the Judge did what i expected on monday that i would be finally LEGALLY be bronwen, wearing my hair and being empowered to enjoy my right to be a real Transgender Woman at work at last.

the rain started on sunday the 22nd as i got ready for my weekly trip to visit my main Trans mentor, Alyce. i loved the desert this way… wild gusty winds, cold… filled with the hint of peril and the mystery of a whole Planet’s atmosphere… the sky painted in layers of enormous brooding silver and white grayness, high, up to the edge of the world, blue on blue beyond deep. drops smashing to the ground falling from all the way, way up there…

i packed the red vinyl bag filled with the most promising and simultaneously obnoxiously designed camera equipment ever sold excited to finally start with the project that i expected to send me into a new world where i would find both myself and my relations and work and play together on transforming ourselves and each other… the project: The Outpost! the day’s objective, awaiting me at the end of the rainy road in Palm Springs, 60 miles away: The Outpost’s first technical trials to be conducted at last.

dealing with the biggest storm of the season slowed my trip with flooded roads. my mind was burdened with resentments clogging my heart with guck… but i was elated and filled with purpose, a perfect prescription for a really good day. not even a snowstorm or a flash flood was going to stop me!

happy to spend the weekend being free in the world, monday to be emancipated to live that freedom in every aspect of my social life. free to be earn a living as me, finally, in the light. free to fulfill my Mother’s wish for me to be born… bronwen.


birdy goes to the courthouse to file her papers to become bronwen two months before receiving her Court Order declaring her legally female, three months before beginning HRT… the journey underway at full sail, intrepid gendernaut launching herself into the magnificent unknown.

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