Big Changes in Store?

Both of my fans ;-) have been clamoring for some good news, so I promised Khyri I would see what I could do about that.  (Actually, I want to thank all of my friends for their caring and concern.)

This summer has been a challenging time for me in many ways, although it has also had many rich rewards.  One thing that has been clear since last spring, however, is that I need to make some big changes in my life.

First, I want – actually, I need — to change my job.  One thing that has become clear since I went full-time last year and have become more involved in fighting for equal rights for trans, as well as, lesbian, gay and bisexual, people is that that’s where my heart lies.  I get up every morning, turn on my laptop and start reading blogs and the various Yahoo groups I belong to, posting comments, and chatting with friends, giving support where I can, receiving it when I need it.  I can quite easily and happily spend hours doing that — and often do.  But, when the thought of my need to work and actually earn a living begins to creep into to my pleasantly occupied brain, instead of joy, I feel dread.  Over the last few years, I’ve worked hard to learn to recognize when I’m having a feeling, something I had no clue about for most of my life, but you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that there’s something wrong with this picture.

Second, I need, but don’t really want, to move out of this lovely, but small, mountain town where I live. Prescott isn’t tiny by any means (the Prescott Chamber of Commerce website lists the current population as 43,000+), but it’s still a small town in many ways, especially when it comes to the LGB, and even more so the T, community. (I know of one other full time trans woman, who apparently doesn’t like me (what’s not to like? ;-) ), 2 full time trans men (one is only 19, the other just moved here, so we haven’t met yet), and one trans woman just beginning her transition.) I have been accepted into many parts of the community of women in this town, something for which I am very grateful and which I seldom dared to hope for before my transition, but I long for a community of trans people – especially, trans women – who understand the struggles I’ve been through to get to where I am today, and the ones I still face. That sort of community simply isn’t possible here, not now, at least.

Before I transitioned last year, I thought about moving first. One friend, whose parents left Prescott in the early ’50’s because of its conservatism, strongly urged me to move to a larger city to transition. Despite her misgivings, and mine, I decided to stay because I like Prescott and because, although I’ve spent 7 years in the San Francisco Bay Area and 12 years in Seattle, I’m basically a small-town girl at heart. In particular, I need to know that there are wide open spaces close at hand to maintain my sense of freedom and place in this world. As it turned out, staying was a good decision. My transition couldn’t have gone more smoothly. In particular, my transition in the legal community (did I mention I’m an attorney?) has pretty much been a non-event. But the lack of community and my loneliness (I’ve lived alone for most of the last 13 years) continues to wear on me.

My first attempt to change these things in my life came last spring when what seemed like the perfect job opportunity fell into my lap, as if it was meant to be. The job was with the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force working with state and local advocacy groups to pass nondiscrimination, hate crimes and other legislation important to the LGBT community. The job was exactly what I am looking for – a way to combine my legal skills with my growing passion for doing my part to change the unfairness I see all around me. The Task Force, however, thought otherwise and, after two telephone interviews, chose to “advance other candidates in the hiring process” instead of me. (It appears that they still haven’t filled the position, but they’re no longer advertising it either, so I’m not holding out any hope there.)

To say I was disappointed doesn’t begin to describe how I felt when I got the news that I was no longer in the running for that job. I had envisioned a life full of fulfilling and interesting work with people who share my passion for equality and other values. Although I didn’t look forward to living in Washington, D.C., I was willing to do it for that job. Those dreams were not to be, however. (Hmmm, anyone notice a pattern here?)

Since then, I’ve looked around for other positions in the small community of LGBT advocacy organizations, but have yet to find any I want to apply for. (The Transgender Legal Defense and Education Fund (TLDEF) has an opening for a staff attorney, but it’s primarily a litigation position and I want to focus more on advocacy. Plus, I want to live in New York City even less than I want to live in Washington, D.C. It would take a very special job to convince me to live in the Big Apple. The Human Rights Campaign is looking for a Senior Public Policy Advocate, which is more what I’m looking for. The job, however, requires supporting “HRC’s positions and strategies . . . to secure workplace equity . . . for the GLBT community.” Until HRC’s position on a gender-inclusive ENDA changes and is proven by definitive action and not useless words, I could never work for HRC. Since that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon, HRC is off my list of potential employers.)

The upshot is that it looks like, for the time being, I’m going to have to keep doing what I’ve been doing for the last 11 years if I want to keep body and soul together. That isn’t all bad. I’m fortunate because I work for myself, which gives me incredible flexibility in when and where I work. (It was also a huge advantage when it came time to transition. My boss was very understanding. LOL) I also have one other major advantage over most people when it comes to my work: I don’t have to be in Prescott to do it. In fact, theoretically, I could live pretty much anywhere in the U.S. and keep doing exactly what I’m doing now. (Although I’m an attorney, I rarely actually go to court, so my physical location isn’t a major consideration.) Realistically, though, I probably need to stay in Arizona. Theoretically, that still gives me a lot of options. Realistically, however, there’s only one place in Arizona that offers what I’m looking for – primarily, a community of trans, and LGB, people that I can be a part of – and where I’m willing to live. For about a year and a half back around the millennium, I lived in the East Valley (for you non-Arizona folks, that means the suburbs east of Phoenix) and, for the most part, hated it. For me, the Phoenix area doesn’t have much of a soul, which is important to me. I also found the heat oppressive. (More on that later.) So, that leaves ……… (drum roll please)

Tucson!! I know: Tucson is only slightly cooler than Phoenix in the summertime, but the difference between 100 and 110 in the shade is significant. Tucson, however, has soul. It also has one of the most vibrant and well-organized trans, and LGB, communities in the nation, with the Southern Area Gender Alliance (SAGA) and Wingspan. And, very importantly, I already have several friends there. (For now, they shall remain unnamed to protect the guilty. ;-) )

So, all of this is just a very long way of saying that, even if I can’t change my job, there’s a good chance I will at least change where I live by moving to Tucson sometime in the next few months. I’m already planning a visit there in November for a Holotropic Breathwork workshop and may extend that trip, so I can spend some time looking for a place to live – a small house, an apt or, even better, a house-sharing arrangement. Or I may simply pack up some of my work and go down there for a few days to impose on one of my friends (*waves at Khyri*) and look around. So, watch out, Tucson!  Lock up your daughter’s and batten down the hatches!  Abby’s on her way!

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