I want to start this blog off by saying that like Diane Sawyer, I will refer to Bruce Jenner by his name and male pronouns until he chooses to come out as the person he refers to as "her." I personally know very little about Bruce Jenner. In 1976, along with the rest of the country, I cheered for him during the Olympics and was very happy when he won his gold medal.
I remember during the 1980s hearing some rumors that Bruce Jenner might be transitioning into a woman. I transitioned in the late seventies and early eighties and had my gender affirming surgery in 1982. At the advice of one of the several psychology professionals I saw prior to my surgery, I chose to leave my past as a male behind me. Up to the time of my diagnosis with Klinefelter's syndrome, I had been the embarrassment of the family. However, with the diagnosis of being born intersex, my family was happy that there was a biological explanation as to why I was the way I was and were happily complicit. At the time these rumors about Bruce were going around, I was already living in what many in the transgender community refer to as stealth mode, meaning that no one, other than my family new about my male past. At that time, I did not feel it was in my best interests to even discuss these rumors with anyone.
I have never watched the show, "Keeping Up With the Kardashians," but like everyone else, was aware of who they were. I really had no idea until recently, that the rumors about Bruce transitioning were once again news. When I heard about the interview with Diane Sawyer, I was at first skeptical, knowing how popular reality shows had become, and that this might be the beginning of another over the top reality show. However, I like to think of myself as a person who reserves opinions until the majority of the facts are available.
I did my best to approach the interview with as few preconceived notions as possible. I can now say after watching the interview in its entirety, that I was very pleased both with Ms. Sawyer's interview, as well as Bruce Jenner's candid answers to her questions.
As I listened to Bruce tell the story of his childhood, in many respects I felt like he was telling my story. Bruce was born in October of 1949. I was born in February of 1954. We are both children of the fifties and sixties. We both had the same confusion about our bodies and our genders from a very early age. Neither one of us had any resources to bring any kind of clarity to that confusion. Where our stories differ, is that Bruce channeled his confusion into embracing the male physical part of him, and because I was born intersex, in my case having both male and female chromosomes, I always appeared more female than male and lacked the male muscle mass to go down the same road.
I don't want to get into a lot of specifics in the interview as most people reading will have seen the interview and I don't see the need to be redundant. What I got from the interview is that Bruce intends to use his story to help bring about what has been my passion for some time. That being awareness and understanding. So many of the challenges facing both intersex and transgender people is a lack of awareness and understanding not only in the straight community, but in the LGB community as well.
In 2007 after making a decision to no longer keep my early life a secret, I immersed myself into the LGBT community. I did my best to be as supportive as possible to the many new gay and lesbian friends that I had met because of my participation in radio shows on the Sirius/XM satellite radio station OutQ. In 2013, I went on a Caribbean cruise sponsored by the Derek and Romaine show. I was the only transgender person in the group on this cruise. I was very surprised to learn that this wonderful group of people that I met on this cruise knew very little about the transgender community. Because I had learned so much about lesbian and gay issues once I decided to become part of the community, I naively assumed that gays and lesbians knew as much about the transgender community. Because there is a "T" in LGBT, I wrongly assumed that there was unified support. I decided then and there that I would do my best to do whatever was in my power to help anyone understand the transgender experience as I had lived it.
I started to realize fairly early on in my quest to be part of the LGBT community again, that there was some disconnect between the transgender community and the gay and lesbian community. That disconnect became glaringly apparent when several years ago, I heard on the "Michelangelo Signorile Show" that Joe Solmonese, at that time, the head of the Human Rights Campaign was endorsing a non-trans inclusive ENDA. Donna Rose, a transgender woman on the HRC board of directors quit in protest. At that time, I went through many emotions. Anger, hurt, sadness, disillusionment and something close to hopelessness. None of these emotions were for me personally. I am legally a female. I have a birth certificate and a passport that says I'm female. I am lucky. These feelings were for the many struggling transgender people that receive very little support outside their own community. I have heard that lately, things are getting better between the transgender community and HRC. I hope that is true. More than ever, we need a trans inclusive ENDA and I hope HRC will get 100% behind one.
The last thing in the world I want, is to downplay what gays and lesbians have been through in order to achieve where they are today. Until gay marriage is legal in every state in this country there is still work to do and I am 100% behind my gay brothers and sisters. My purpose in doing whatever I can to bring intersex and transgender understanding and awareness is to help unite the LGBT community. From what I heard in last night's interview, it seems to me that Bruce Jenner wants the same thing.
I was very pleased when he mentioned the plight of our transgender youth. These are the people who are most at risk.
It is not my place to judge anyone's transition journey. People transition at different points in their lives for different reasons. The biggest lesson that I learned going stealth for over 25 years, is that living with a life changing secret can dramatically impact one's quality of life significantly in too many ways to list here. I believe it is the same with anyone who, for whatever reason feels forced to live an inauthentic life.
What I see causes the most trauma in the lives of transgender people, is their ability to lead an authentic life. It seems to me, that in every transition story I have ever heard, whether it's a person transitioning in their twenties like I was able to do or a person transitioning late in life, is that once they were able to start living their life authentically, their quality of life increased ways they never thought possible.
Much has been made of the fact that Bruce has children and what the effect of this decision will have on his children. Many transgender people live in a form of limbo for many years until their children are grown to finally make their transition because they are cognizant of the fact that they brought these children into the world and don't want to hurt them. The reason I am so passionate about understanding and awareness is because people of mine and Bruce's generation had no resources to help us understand who we were and that there were choices we could make on how to live our lives.
Bruce dealt with his situation by becoming the most Alpha male he could be, marrying and having children. I dealt with mine by going stealth and living with an explosive secret hanging over my head coloring everything about my life in a way that was anything but positive. Another reason I made that choice was of that because of the traumas that I experienced in transitioning. I was raped more than once, one time by a New Orleans police Department sargent. I was beaten up more than once. Nothing in my life up to the point of my surgery told me that I would be safe if I was honest about the circumstances of my birth.
Today, I cope. I originally became a truck driver after my first divorce because I thought by isolating myself, I could control things better. I enjoyed my life on the road, but running away is never the answer and solved nothing. My life is better now because I finally chose not to hide who I am, but the traumas will never entirely go away. The best that I can do is put them into perspective and advocate as best I can for young transgender people so that they do not have to go through what I went through. Also, for them not to have to go through what Bruce Jenner went through. Everyone deserves to live an authentic life for their whole life.
When Bruce finally completes his transition and unveils the person he refers to as "her," I wish every success and happiness for her. I truly believe that she will do her best to bring understanding and awareness. I hope that people will take away from the interview a sense of hope and not get caught up in details. Bruce's story is not about "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." Bruce's story is about a long and complicated journey that I pray no one else will have to repeat.
My hope is that Bruce's story will inspire people to learn more about the transgender experience. I hope it will inspire them to say no more violence against trans people. We are human beings that deserve every opportunity and all the respect that every other human being deserves. History shows us that people do the most horrible things when they lack understanding and awareness. You don't have to go very far back in history to see atrocities committed that people later say if they only understood, the atrocities would never have happened.
I want people to understand that Bruce Jenner's journey to transition, in my opinion, is no less important or significant than anyone else's journey. What I do want people to understand is that his journey is not typical. Without financial or emotional support, the majority of transgender people will continue to be traumatized in more ways than people want to hear about.
I want to personally thank Bruce for his courage, his candor, and his willingness to share his journey. At the very least, it will start a conversation. Please do not get caught up in the politics. Transgender people are no different than anyone else. They have their own opinions. It is also so important to understand that their gender identity has absolutely nothing to do with their sexual preference.
Please keep this conversation going. Our transgender youth need your support, compassion, and understanding. Love and hugs from trucker Patti.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Saturday, February 14, 2015
HOW I FOUND MYSELF ON LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE OF "GLEE" - THE EXPERIENCE
My "Glee" experience started at the Hollywood Forever Memorial Park, a cemetery adjacent to Paramount Studios. When I was invited to participate in this episode of "Glee," I was told only that I was going to be part of a transgender choir. Most choirs that I have seen are generally made up of 20 to 30 people. After I got there, I found out that the reason I was directed to the cemetery was because there was not enough parking on the Paramount lot for all the people that were coming.
From this cemetery, they took us in buses over to an area on the Paramount lot adjacent to stage 14. At that point, I'm sure there must have been at least 100 people already there. I was, for lack of a better word, gobsmacked. I have to give it to Paramount though, they were certainly ready for us. There was an army of staff ready to help any one who needed wardrobe, makeup, and help with filling out that many forms that were required to be part of this choir.
After I arrived, several buses carrying more people arrived. Once I had filled out the appropriate paperwork and it was determined that my wardrobe and makeup were acceptable, I finally had time to really look around at the people that surrounded me. There were transgender people of every gender, size, shape, age, culture, and socioeconomic group. What I was looking at, was truly a microcosm of our country. I wanted to talk to everybody. I wanted to know everyone's story. Unfortunately,
there was not time for this to happen. The Paramount professionals there acted like a well oiled machine. After wardrobe, hair, makeup, and paperwork were sorted out, we were then taken inside stage 14 where they had tables set up for us.
I had heard in the past, how great craft services was on television and movie sets. I was not disappointed. The breakfast they had ready for us, is what I would imagine celebrities would expect on the set. They gave us a little time to eat, and we were then introduced to, I believe, producers that for the rest of the day we referred to as mom and dad. "Mom" thoroughly explained to us what the day was going to consist of. We were told, thankfully on my part, that there would be no live singing, although we had coaches to help us learn the words that we would be lip synching. Anyone who knows me, knows that I sing about as well as I perform heart surgery. There were many sighs of relief around the tables when we learned we would not be singing live.
Being surrounded by all these interesting people was very difficult for me. While I was able to chat with a few during breakfast, being a bit nosey and curious and a rather talkative person, I was determined to be professional. Being part of a television show or a movie had always been an unrealized dream of mine and I really wanted to do my best. This would not be a day for networking.
After a couple of hours of rehearsal, we were then taken to the soundstage where the William McKinley High auditorium was. We were then wrangled to our spots on the risers. I am still amazed at how well all of the Paramount people did their jobs. They spent awhile moving people around until they got just the right look that they wanted. There were 198 transgendered people in the choir (a few less than the 300 Mr. Shuster told Coach Beiste were there) and they acted like dealing with a group of
people this size was something they did every day.
Another thing that really amazed me, was the way all of the other extras behaved during a very long and arduous day. After talking to a few people, I realized this group consisted of a lot of really big personalities. Sometimes big personalities can be difficult to deal with, but the day went on with only the occasional grumble. I think though, like me, it was dawning on every transgender person there, that we were about to be a part of something special, even epic. Outside of pride festivals, as far as I know, there has never been a group of transgender people this size and diverse ever brought together in one place before.
Throughout the day, we went through the song more times than I could count. Every time we went through the song, so did Alex Newell, playing the character of Unique, who was singing the song. Dot Marie Jones, playing Coach Beiste, who I had the privilege of chatting with, also had as long of a day as we did. The rest of the cast members were there for most of the shoot, with the exception of Jane Lynch. I got to meet several of them. They were very friendly and approachable. After this experience, I truly have a real understanding of just how hard actors, producers, crew all the way down to the production assistants work.
We were shot from every possible angle with more different kinds of cameras than I can remember. Physically, I was having some difficulties standing for so long. The director was pretty generous with breaks, but I'm
sure we spent a good 8 to 10 hours on those risers. I was so privileged to be a part of this group that I just sucked up the pain and carried on.
Before the episode aired, I had asked every one that I knew to record the episode. I then asked them to freeze frame on every part of the choir. I wanted them to see what I saw, a group of people that were truly a cross section of our country. There were people in designer clothes and there were people that were obviously struggling economically. There were people like me, who had learned how to blend and others who are obviously at the beginning of their transition journey and everything in between.
My personal observation has been that the majority of trans people fall into a few distinct categories. One category blends into society and does not share their trans status with any but the people who are closest to them.
The second category are people who limit themselves to their own small groups of friends because they have trouble blending into society and people can be very cruel to them. These are the people who are the most vulnerable. They have the most problems finding, housing, employment and medical care.
Then you have the people who have waited till late in life to make the transition and have more financial resources to draw from.
For 25 years, I was in that first group. Only my family knew about me. I am happy to say that now I'm in the last category. People who are out, proud, and trying to do whatever little bit they can to try and make a difference.
I focus that little bit of what I can do trying to bring trans and intersex awareness and understanding to the gay and lesbian community. For so long, out of necessity, they had to be like so many trans people are today, secretive. It truly warms my heart after everything I've experienced in my 61 years, that in most places in this country, gays and lesbians can just live their lives being who they are. It was a long time coming and a hard fight to get there even though there is still work to be done.
Trans people need allies. I firmly believe that awareness and understanding gave gays and lesbians the allies they needed to finally be able to live their lives open and proud. I do my best to make myself available to everyone that I meet to answer any questions they might have about my own personal journey. As I have said in the past, after I came out of stealth mode and started to meet a lot of gay, lesbian and bisexual people, I was truly surprised at how little awareness and understanding they had of trans people.
Almost every person I have never talked to about this issue of awareness and understanding wants to be supportive. I am hoping that events like this episode of "Glee" will be a big step in the right direction. In my opinion, the biggest obstacle that the queer community faces in being supportive of every one, is the lack of a trans inclusive ENDA.
It is almost impossible for people who are afraid of losing their job or afraid of losing their housing or afraid of being shunned, to be open and proud. Every human being deserves to be happy. Every human being deserves to be themselves. Those of us who have comfortable lives are obligated, I believe, to do something to help those that are struggling. A young lady who was part of the choir told me that she was nervous about participating. She was a teacher at an elementary school, she said, and no one at the school knew her trans status. She is a very brave young lady and we all could learn a lesson from her. In order for growth, we need to
occasionally step out of our comfort zones and show some of the same courage as did this young woman.
I want to personally thank Ryan Murphy and every one at Paramount involved with the show along with every courageous and beautiful transgender person who participated in this epic the event. It was truly an honor and privilege to be part of this project.
From this cemetery, they took us in buses over to an area on the Paramount lot adjacent to stage 14. At that point, I'm sure there must have been at least 100 people already there. I was, for lack of a better word, gobsmacked. I have to give it to Paramount though, they were certainly ready for us. There was an army of staff ready to help any one who needed wardrobe, makeup, and help with filling out that many forms that were required to be part of this choir.
After I arrived, several buses carrying more people arrived. Once I had filled out the appropriate paperwork and it was determined that my wardrobe and makeup were acceptable, I finally had time to really look around at the people that surrounded me. There were transgender people of every gender, size, shape, age, culture, and socioeconomic group. What I was looking at, was truly a microcosm of our country. I wanted to talk to everybody. I wanted to know everyone's story. Unfortunately,
there was not time for this to happen. The Paramount professionals there acted like a well oiled machine. After wardrobe, hair, makeup, and paperwork were sorted out, we were then taken inside stage 14 where they had tables set up for us.
I had heard in the past, how great craft services was on television and movie sets. I was not disappointed. The breakfast they had ready for us, is what I would imagine celebrities would expect on the set. They gave us a little time to eat, and we were then introduced to, I believe, producers that for the rest of the day we referred to as mom and dad. "Mom" thoroughly explained to us what the day was going to consist of. We were told, thankfully on my part, that there would be no live singing, although we had coaches to help us learn the words that we would be lip synching. Anyone who knows me, knows that I sing about as well as I perform heart surgery. There were many sighs of relief around the tables when we learned we would not be singing live.
Being surrounded by all these interesting people was very difficult for me. While I was able to chat with a few during breakfast, being a bit nosey and curious and a rather talkative person, I was determined to be professional. Being part of a television show or a movie had always been an unrealized dream of mine and I really wanted to do my best. This would not be a day for networking.
After a couple of hours of rehearsal, we were then taken to the soundstage where the William McKinley High auditorium was. We were then wrangled to our spots on the risers. I am still amazed at how well all of the Paramount people did their jobs. They spent awhile moving people around until they got just the right look that they wanted. There were 198 transgendered people in the choir (a few less than the 300 Mr. Shuster told Coach Beiste were there) and they acted like dealing with a group of
people this size was something they did every day.
Another thing that really amazed me, was the way all of the other extras behaved during a very long and arduous day. After talking to a few people, I realized this group consisted of a lot of really big personalities. Sometimes big personalities can be difficult to deal with, but the day went on with only the occasional grumble. I think though, like me, it was dawning on every transgender person there, that we were about to be a part of something special, even epic. Outside of pride festivals, as far as I know, there has never been a group of transgender people this size and diverse ever brought together in one place before.
Throughout the day, we went through the song more times than I could count. Every time we went through the song, so did Alex Newell, playing the character of Unique, who was singing the song. Dot Marie Jones, playing Coach Beiste, who I had the privilege of chatting with, also had as long of a day as we did. The rest of the cast members were there for most of the shoot, with the exception of Jane Lynch. I got to meet several of them. They were very friendly and approachable. After this experience, I truly have a real understanding of just how hard actors, producers, crew all the way down to the production assistants work.
We were shot from every possible angle with more different kinds of cameras than I can remember. Physically, I was having some difficulties standing for so long. The director was pretty generous with breaks, but I'm
sure we spent a good 8 to 10 hours on those risers. I was so privileged to be a part of this group that I just sucked up the pain and carried on.
Before the episode aired, I had asked every one that I knew to record the episode. I then asked them to freeze frame on every part of the choir. I wanted them to see what I saw, a group of people that were truly a cross section of our country. There were people in designer clothes and there were people that were obviously struggling economically. There were people like me, who had learned how to blend and others who are obviously at the beginning of their transition journey and everything in between.
My personal observation has been that the majority of trans people fall into a few distinct categories. One category blends into society and does not share their trans status with any but the people who are closest to them.
The second category are people who limit themselves to their own small groups of friends because they have trouble blending into society and people can be very cruel to them. These are the people who are the most vulnerable. They have the most problems finding, housing, employment and medical care.
Then you have the people who have waited till late in life to make the transition and have more financial resources to draw from.
For 25 years, I was in that first group. Only my family knew about me. I am happy to say that now I'm in the last category. People who are out, proud, and trying to do whatever little bit they can to try and make a difference.
I focus that little bit of what I can do trying to bring trans and intersex awareness and understanding to the gay and lesbian community. For so long, out of necessity, they had to be like so many trans people are today, secretive. It truly warms my heart after everything I've experienced in my 61 years, that in most places in this country, gays and lesbians can just live their lives being who they are. It was a long time coming and a hard fight to get there even though there is still work to be done.
Trans people need allies. I firmly believe that awareness and understanding gave gays and lesbians the allies they needed to finally be able to live their lives open and proud. I do my best to make myself available to everyone that I meet to answer any questions they might have about my own personal journey. As I have said in the past, after I came out of stealth mode and started to meet a lot of gay, lesbian and bisexual people, I was truly surprised at how little awareness and understanding they had of trans people.
Almost every person I have never talked to about this issue of awareness and understanding wants to be supportive. I am hoping that events like this episode of "Glee" will be a big step in the right direction. In my opinion, the biggest obstacle that the queer community faces in being supportive of every one, is the lack of a trans inclusive ENDA.
It is almost impossible for people who are afraid of losing their job or afraid of losing their housing or afraid of being shunned, to be open and proud. Every human being deserves to be happy. Every human being deserves to be themselves. Those of us who have comfortable lives are obligated, I believe, to do something to help those that are struggling. A young lady who was part of the choir told me that she was nervous about participating. She was a teacher at an elementary school, she said, and no one at the school knew her trans status. She is a very brave young lady and we all could learn a lesson from her. In order for growth, we need to
occasionally step out of our comfort zones and show some of the same courage as did this young woman.
I want to personally thank Ryan Murphy and every one at Paramount involved with the show along with every courageous and beautiful transgender person who participated in this epic the event. It was truly an honor and privilege to be part of this project.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
TRUCKER PATTI'S ROAD TO "GLEE"
"Transition" is it the title of the episode on the television show "Glee," that we'll be airing Friday, February 13th. From its first episode, "Glee" has been extraordinary in every sense of the word. Every teenage issue, from bullying, teen pregnancy, same sex relationships, and leaving the high school to go out into the world, have been addressed.
This episode deals with the female football coach, who revealed in an earlier episode, that she was transgender and would be transitioning from female to male.
I understand transitioning, because I'd transitioned in the late seventies and early eighties culminating in my gender affirming surgery in 1982. Just like all personal journeys that people experience, everyone's transition is different. What is consistent in everyone's transition journey, is that it will probably be the biggest challenge one that would face in their life. Support from one's friends and family is probably the single most factor in how difficult a person's transition can be.
In November of last year, I was driving from my home in Missouri to San Francisco for a sold out screening of the documentary short, "Trucker Patti," of which I am the subject. While on this trip, I was made aware that the casting director, Kristan Berona, of "Glee," was looking for transgender people for an episode in the final season of the show. Gleek that I am, I immediately got in touch with Kristan and was invited to participate.
I had planned only to go to San Francisco and then drive back to Missouri. However, after learning the particulars of this episode, I decided to make the several hundred mile detour to go to Los Angeles to participate. This screening of trucker Patti at the transgender film festival in San Francisco had been sold out (see the review in "Curve" magazine http://www.curvemag.com/Reviews/Trucker-Patti-Delights-at-Sold-Out-Festival-Screenings-262/ by Rachel Pepper) and I was feeling very good on my drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles.
I can only say that the experience of being part of this episode has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. As an advocate for transgender and intersex understanding and awareness, I am very grateful to Ryan Murphy, the creator and driving force behind "Glee" and every one involved with the show. The work that they have done is truly groundbreaking and one of the most courageous things I have ever seen on network television.
Even if you are not a fan of the show, I would urge you to watch this episode, because what takes place is truly life affirming. I am hoping to talk more about this episode after it has aired and what the experience meant to me personally to be on the "Glee" auditorium stage. I really hope you will watch.
Love and hugs from tucker Patti!
This episode deals with the female football coach, who revealed in an earlier episode, that she was transgender and would be transitioning from female to male.
I understand transitioning, because I'd transitioned in the late seventies and early eighties culminating in my gender affirming surgery in 1982. Just like all personal journeys that people experience, everyone's transition is different. What is consistent in everyone's transition journey, is that it will probably be the biggest challenge one that would face in their life. Support from one's friends and family is probably the single most factor in how difficult a person's transition can be.
In November of last year, I was driving from my home in Missouri to San Francisco for a sold out screening of the documentary short, "Trucker Patti," of which I am the subject. While on this trip, I was made aware that the casting director, Kristan Berona, of "Glee," was looking for transgender people for an episode in the final season of the show. Gleek that I am, I immediately got in touch with Kristan and was invited to participate.
I had planned only to go to San Francisco and then drive back to Missouri. However, after learning the particulars of this episode, I decided to make the several hundred mile detour to go to Los Angeles to participate. This screening of trucker Patti at the transgender film festival in San Francisco had been sold out (see the review in "Curve" magazine http://www.curvemag.com/Reviews/Trucker-Patti-Delights-at-Sold-Out-Festival-Screenings-262/ by Rachel Pepper) and I was feeling very good on my drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles.
I can only say that the experience of being part of this episode has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. As an advocate for transgender and intersex understanding and awareness, I am very grateful to Ryan Murphy, the creator and driving force behind "Glee" and every one involved with the show. The work that they have done is truly groundbreaking and one of the most courageous things I have ever seen on network television.
Even if you are not a fan of the show, I would urge you to watch this episode, because what takes place is truly life affirming. I am hoping to talk more about this episode after it has aired and what the experience meant to me personally to be on the "Glee" auditorium stage. I really hope you will watch.
Love and hugs from tucker Patti!
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Trucker Patti's Bipolar Year
I have been trying to make sense of this past year. It has been unlike any other year of my 60 plus years on this planet. My biggest wish is, has been, and will continue to be Trans awareness and understanding. This year has been one of highs and lows that I have never experienced in one year. I do not suffer from bipolar disorder, but this year certainly has!
I started 2014 dealing with the realization that I could not continue working. After surviving cancer, being able to go back to work was something I did not think would happen. I had hoped to work for at least another three years. My body had other ideas. However, while in retrospect, going back to work might not have been the best decision for me healthwise, the things that I got to do during that year and 1/2 made whatever I am having to deal with now totally worth it. Having to stop working made me feel unproductive and brought back the feeling of being "less than" that I have been fighting with my entire life.
I got to go on two amazing cruises in 2013, as well as experience gay days at Disneyland in Anaheim, as well as another cruise this year. It was while I was on one of those cruises that I met Beau J. Genot, the filmmaker who would make the documentary short, "Trucker Patti," based on my life. I have been exposed to and spent time with more interesting and creative people this year than in my entire life combined. I have made some friendships that I hope will last, but at heart I am a realist. While people have good intentions of trying to maintain a relationship with me, geography and busy, different lives can sometimes make that impossible.
Premiering the film at Outfest this past summer was an experience unlike anything that had never happened in my life previously. From being a regular caller on several of the shows on Sirius/XM OutQ radio, and going on my first Derek and Romaine cruise, I knew there were people who were aware of me and some of the things I had shared about my life during those calls.
I was completely unprepared for all of the attention I received at Outfest. The idea that I was meeting people who I knew nothing about and who knew practically everything about me, was a bit unsettling, but in a good way. I had gone from the extreme low of having to stop working and dealing with my health issues, to a tiny bit of celebrity that seemed huge to me. That attention is what ultimately gave me the idea that maybe I could do something positive in the trans and intersex community that I was part of to make a difference.
Before Outfest, I had several Facebook friends and a few Twitter followers. By the end of Outfest, those numbers increased dramatically. While I continue to try to learn, I am not very adept at social media. For the first few months after Outfest, I could not believe the social media attention I was receiving. That is why I say I am not very adept at social media. I tried to use it to call attention to myself so I could spread my agenda of trans and intersex awareness and understanding and apparently just wound up alienating people, as I get very limited social media attention these days.
The idea that I first came up with to try and make a difference in my community, was to try to find projects in the entertainment world to get my name and my face better known. If "Trucker Patti," a 15 minute documentary short had brought me so much attention, imagine what something in a movie or on TV could do. I look back on that thinking now and cringe, realizing how naïve and silly it was.
My thinking was, the more people who knew who I was and what my story was, the more I would be able to share with people the hardship that trans and intersex people face every day. I had, from the beginning, had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that people found me interesting. But none of us are really the best judge of how others see us, so I just decided to go with what people were telling me.
I tried to start a social media campaign to make this happen. I had met several entertainment industry people who had positive things to say about my film and me during Outfest. My hope was that I would find some help there. Again, in retrospect, I cringe!
I failed miserably. I don't know if the positive things that I heard from people during Outfest were just because I came across as likable and people wanted to be nice to me or if anyone sincerely thought me or my story was noteworthy. Part of me thinks the former to be more true than the latter. However, because I have no clue how one breaks into show business, I really don't know.
Then, a couple of months ago, I actually had a blog post published on Huffington Post, "Gay Voices." Another extreme high. A nationally syndicated (or maybe internationally-not sure how that works) online News site printed something I wrote. I really felt like I was making a difference. I might be useless when it came to driving a truck, but maybe something I shared could make a difference. A couple of days ago, I was published again and while it was a high, that high was a bit tempered.
What I do know, is that I now have this deep desire to do something to help my community. I would be lying if I said that the whole process of filmmaking and television was not intriguing to me. Selfishly, I would really love to be part of another project simply because it's fun and it stimulates that tiny bit of creativity that I thought I had lost many years ago. But, whether or not anyone believes me, it really is mostly about what some notoriety on my part could enable me to share trans awareness and understanding.
So now it is the end of my roller coaster ride of a bipolar year and I find myself more confused than ever. I am physically isolated living in Missouri, but the circumstances of my financial situation make that a necessity. I have enough of an income to live comfortably, but not enough to travel to promote my agenda. I have a few ideas about approaching colleges and universities, but given the somewhat lukewarm support that I am now receiving, I will have to give that further thought.
Don't get me wrong, while I am confused, isolated and a little down, mostly because I just want to make a difference, I am not giving up. I may not hear much from people these days, but I know I still have my supporters out there and I am not giving up. If television or movies never happen, it will make me sad. Even at almost 61, everyone deserves to have a dream and deserves help and support to achieve their dream. But, as long as I can write and share, it is something. If one person who is struggling can connect with my story, which is far from over, and it can give them hope, then I am truly making a difference.
For many years I was an unhappy person living with a secret. There are still many people out there living the same way. But, with trans and intersex awareness, that can and must change. Gays and lesbians can now be out, open and love and marry whomever they please. That fight has been hard fought and is still ongoing, and is succeeding. It gives me hope that trans and intersex people, who need to be loved and accepted just for who they are, not only for who they are perceived to be because they are "passing," can also succeed in the fight to just be themselves.
As tumultuous as the years since I made the decision to come back out and live as a proud intersex and transgender person, they have and continue to be the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life. I stumble and I fall. I make mistakes and make myself look foolish. But I get back up and most of all, I am me, with all the flaws and wonders.
Can't wait to see what adventures 2015 has to offer.
I started 2014 dealing with the realization that I could not continue working. After surviving cancer, being able to go back to work was something I did not think would happen. I had hoped to work for at least another three years. My body had other ideas. However, while in retrospect, going back to work might not have been the best decision for me healthwise, the things that I got to do during that year and 1/2 made whatever I am having to deal with now totally worth it. Having to stop working made me feel unproductive and brought back the feeling of being "less than" that I have been fighting with my entire life.
I got to go on two amazing cruises in 2013, as well as experience gay days at Disneyland in Anaheim, as well as another cruise this year. It was while I was on one of those cruises that I met Beau J. Genot, the filmmaker who would make the documentary short, "Trucker Patti," based on my life. I have been exposed to and spent time with more interesting and creative people this year than in my entire life combined. I have made some friendships that I hope will last, but at heart I am a realist. While people have good intentions of trying to maintain a relationship with me, geography and busy, different lives can sometimes make that impossible.
Premiering the film at Outfest this past summer was an experience unlike anything that had never happened in my life previously. From being a regular caller on several of the shows on Sirius/XM OutQ radio, and going on my first Derek and Romaine cruise, I knew there were people who were aware of me and some of the things I had shared about my life during those calls.
I was completely unprepared for all of the attention I received at Outfest. The idea that I was meeting people who I knew nothing about and who knew practically everything about me, was a bit unsettling, but in a good way. I had gone from the extreme low of having to stop working and dealing with my health issues, to a tiny bit of celebrity that seemed huge to me. That attention is what ultimately gave me the idea that maybe I could do something positive in the trans and intersex community that I was part of to make a difference.
Before Outfest, I had several Facebook friends and a few Twitter followers. By the end of Outfest, those numbers increased dramatically. While I continue to try to learn, I am not very adept at social media. For the first few months after Outfest, I could not believe the social media attention I was receiving. That is why I say I am not very adept at social media. I tried to use it to call attention to myself so I could spread my agenda of trans and intersex awareness and understanding and apparently just wound up alienating people, as I get very limited social media attention these days.
The idea that I first came up with to try and make a difference in my community, was to try to find projects in the entertainment world to get my name and my face better known. If "Trucker Patti," a 15 minute documentary short had brought me so much attention, imagine what something in a movie or on TV could do. I look back on that thinking now and cringe, realizing how naïve and silly it was.
My thinking was, the more people who knew who I was and what my story was, the more I would be able to share with people the hardship that trans and intersex people face every day. I had, from the beginning, had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that people found me interesting. But none of us are really the best judge of how others see us, so I just decided to go with what people were telling me.
I tried to start a social media campaign to make this happen. I had met several entertainment industry people who had positive things to say about my film and me during Outfest. My hope was that I would find some help there. Again, in retrospect, I cringe!
I failed miserably. I don't know if the positive things that I heard from people during Outfest were just because I came across as likable and people wanted to be nice to me or if anyone sincerely thought me or my story was noteworthy. Part of me thinks the former to be more true than the latter. However, because I have no clue how one breaks into show business, I really don't know.
Then, a couple of months ago, I actually had a blog post published on Huffington Post, "Gay Voices." Another extreme high. A nationally syndicated (or maybe internationally-not sure how that works) online News site printed something I wrote. I really felt like I was making a difference. I might be useless when it came to driving a truck, but maybe something I shared could make a difference. A couple of days ago, I was published again and while it was a high, that high was a bit tempered.
What I do know, is that I now have this deep desire to do something to help my community. I would be lying if I said that the whole process of filmmaking and television was not intriguing to me. Selfishly, I would really love to be part of another project simply because it's fun and it stimulates that tiny bit of creativity that I thought I had lost many years ago. But, whether or not anyone believes me, it really is mostly about what some notoriety on my part could enable me to share trans awareness and understanding.
So now it is the end of my roller coaster ride of a bipolar year and I find myself more confused than ever. I am physically isolated living in Missouri, but the circumstances of my financial situation make that a necessity. I have enough of an income to live comfortably, but not enough to travel to promote my agenda. I have a few ideas about approaching colleges and universities, but given the somewhat lukewarm support that I am now receiving, I will have to give that further thought.
Don't get me wrong, while I am confused, isolated and a little down, mostly because I just want to make a difference, I am not giving up. I may not hear much from people these days, but I know I still have my supporters out there and I am not giving up. If television or movies never happen, it will make me sad. Even at almost 61, everyone deserves to have a dream and deserves help and support to achieve their dream. But, as long as I can write and share, it is something. If one person who is struggling can connect with my story, which is far from over, and it can give them hope, then I am truly making a difference.
For many years I was an unhappy person living with a secret. There are still many people out there living the same way. But, with trans and intersex awareness, that can and must change. Gays and lesbians can now be out, open and love and marry whomever they please. That fight has been hard fought and is still ongoing, and is succeeding. It gives me hope that trans and intersex people, who need to be loved and accepted just for who they are, not only for who they are perceived to be because they are "passing," can also succeed in the fight to just be themselves.
As tumultuous as the years since I made the decision to come back out and live as a proud intersex and transgender person, they have and continue to be the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life. I stumble and I fall. I make mistakes and make myself look foolish. But I get back up and most of all, I am me, with all the flaws and wonders.
Can't wait to see what adventures 2015 has to offer.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
The Dark Times
I want to preface this blog entry by saying that I am not looking for sympathy. The person I am today, is a sum total of all of my experiences to date. I really like the person I am now. The violence that I experienced during my transition in the late seventies and early eighties that I will be documenting, maybe horrifying to some, but many girls I knew back in the day, had it much worse. All of this violence happened to me over 30 years ago. The real tragedy is, while you would think that things would be markedly better for trans women transitioning today, the violence is just as pervasive as it was during my transition. If anything, it has gotten worse.
Sharing this part of my life is something I have done only rarely. I have worked hard over the years to put these dark times behind me. As painful as it will be to share this part of my life, it is because of this pervasive violence that I will be opening a door that I would rather remained closed. We all need to do better by our trans brothers and sisters.
I like to think the people who know me would tell you that I was kind, compassionate, loving and positive. I have been blessed in my life with loving and supportive friends and family. I believe that they are the reason that I have been able to successfully put this painful time of my life behind me. We all need to be that loving and supportive friend or family member for those who are transitioning and most especially for those who are victims of violence. When something like this happens to you, there are so many emotions. You are terrified, you feel ashamed, you are outraged, but worst of all, you feel helpless!
On with the story. After landing back in New Orleans, my first job was as a church secretary at a Methodist church, if you can believe that. That only lasted two months. My next job was for the Federal Reserve Bank. I was a secretary in the Computer Services department. I really loved that job and hated that I had to leave it. I had a driver's license and a Social Security card in my female name. After I had been working at the Fed for a few months, it was brought to my attention that they did not have a copy of my birth certificate. That wasn't gonna happen.
Another problem that I was having, was feeling very disconnected. I worked all day with biological women, but I could not allow myself to get too close lest my little secret would come out. I was offered an opportunity to work at the one transgender bar in the French Quarter, called the Midship. Because I had felt so disconnected working a straight job, I jumped at the chance.
I am not quite sure the best way to put these stories together so I will start by telling you a little about the bar scene in the French quarter around 1980. This also might be helpful to those who don't understand the different kinds of LGBT bars.
Charlene's on Elysian Fields Street was the lesbian bar. There was a leather bar called the Golden Lantern on Royal Street. The Bourbon Pub and Café Lafitte's In Exile, a block apart on Bourbon Street, were for the gay guys. The male hustlers and their clientele hung out at a place called the Roundup. Occasionally some of the trans girls whose boyfriends were hustlers would also come into the Roundup. I worked the midnight to 8am shift, the best shift because no one came out to party much before midnight and generally didn't go home till dawn. The Roundup was my post shift bloody Mary bar. The Post Office and Fat Sam's Speakeasy were the two drag bars. The Midship, where I worked, was where the transgender girls hung out. At that time, most people hung out in their own kind of bar. The exception, was show night at the drag bars. Most people in the community liked the drag shows, so show nights had a pretty mixed crowd. Another exception was Le bistro, a dance club across the street from the Bourbon Pub where anyone who liked to dance went.
The French quarter at that time in history was a unique place, especially being in the southern bible belt. At that time, there were not a lot of places in the country where LGBT people could congregate without too much fear of harassment. I believe a lot of that had to do with the fact that most people considered Bourbon street to be a den of iniquity. It was known for its hard partying crowds and strip clubs. Most of the time the police force left us alone. In those days, the New Orleans police department was known for being very lazy and corrupt. Occasionally, they did crack down, and were not someone to argue with.
The sad fact of those days, was that the majority of the trans girls could only make money one of two ways. They either stripped at one of the two female impersonator strip clubs on Bourbon street, mainly frequented by tourists, or they hustled. Hustling could mean sex work, robbing or a combination of the two. It was such a dangerous life for those girls. It also isolated them from the rest of the community. They were, for this reason, looked down upon by most of the other lesbian and gay bars, with the exception of the Roundup and LeBistro and were not made welcome.
I, and a couple of others, were an exception to that rule. Because I had started off as a drag performer, I had friends from all parts of the community. Also, I was fortunate in that I never had to resort to sex work to keep a roof over my head or myself fed has so many others did. Is it weird that I felt guilty about that? I did. I liked everybody and I wanted everyone to like everyone else. God, I can't believe how naïve I was back then!
I marvel sometimes that the fact that I have made it to the ripe old age of almost 61 still relatively sane. I have always had issues and I supposed to a certain extent, I still do. I just have a better handle on them these days. I have always felt, the best way I can explain it, is "less than". Until these last few years, I never felt like I fit in anywhere. The one benefit of this is that I have always tried to be the nicest person I could be. I always wanted people to like me. Unfortunately, I have not always made the wisest choice in the people I wanted to like me. I am fortunate that most people do like me. I am still insecure enough to sometimes be surprised that they do, but it's a good thing. My insecurities have kept me from finding someone to love me in a romantic way for any length of time. If I had always just been able to be me, maybe that might have been different. When you don't fit, you want to control whatever you can and people do not like to be controlled.
For those of you who don't know the difference, I will explain the trick and a date. A trick, is a consensual sexual encounter. A date, is sex for money. I had had a couple of dates, more or less accidentally, meaning I thought I was having a trick and after it was over, the guy gave me money. That turned out to be a bonus in more ways than one.
When I first started working at the Midship, there was a rumor going around that I was a "real" girl and the regulars were upset that the owner had not hired a trans girl. At the time, I was still going by my stage name, Rita Merrill. I quickly picked up the nickname, "Rita Real". Once that got settled, some of the regulars knew I had done drag and had never been a working girl like they were and for that reason maybe I thought I was better than they were. So, my roommate, Fury, sharing that I had, indeed turned a trick, smoothed things over for me.
Fury was one of the most interesting people I had ever met. She was 6'7" without her heels and not someone you would want to mess with. She had been involved in the Stonewall riot. Fury did not take crap from anyone and while the bar could be a dangerous place, I always felt safe when she was with me. She was an awesome person with a heart bigger than she was and while having a very gruff countenance, never hesitated to help someone in need.
I had frequent tricks. I was in my mid twenties and I have always been a very sexual person. My problem always was how to have sex. I never felt comfortable with the small genitalia I was born with and didn't like to be touched there. However, I also do not enjoy anal sex. Before I had my surgery, I never had a boyfriend for more than a couple of weeks. Most of the guys I met pre surgery were interested in having gay sex with me. My theory is that they were struggling with their own sexual identity and it was all right to have sex with a male as long as he looked like a female.
This was the cause of some of the first physical violence I experienced. A partner would try to force me to do something I did not want to do in the course of consensual sex play and on a couple of occasions slapped me when I didn't do what he wanted. I didn't like this, but was able to handle it. It was quite the conundrum, wanting to have sex all the time, but never figuring out how to do it right for me.
Now, readers, we're going to go someplace very dark and painful for me. I haven't talked about this in depth for many years. I don't want to be any more graphic than is absolutely necessary, but I also don't want to gloss over anything. Don't worry, I have a big old fat xanax ready to take after I get through this. Yes, it is prescription.
The first rape happened when I was working at Papa Joe's on Bourbon Street. Parking in the French quarter was always a challenge. This particular night I had parked about six blocks away from the club. As I was walking the last block to my little blue convertible, I noticed a police cruiser slowly following me up the block. I thought to myself, great now I'm going get hassled for walking to my car. I was relieved when the cruiser drove on by. At that time, I've lived in uptown New Orleans about 4 miles from the French quarter.
I had just crossed Canal street, the main downtown street in New Orleans, heading uptown, when I noticed a police cruiser behind me. I really didn't think anything about it at that moment as I wasn't doing anything wrong. So I just kept on driving toward home. I was still about a mile away when he turned his lights on and pulled me over. I still didn't put it together with the cruiser that had followed me to my car.
I could tell you guys about his line of bull about how I had a tail light out (I didn't), but instead will just get right to it. He followed me to my house and told me that either I did what he wanted or he would charge me for solicitation for prostitution and take me to jail. To make matters worse, he was not just a patrol cop, he was a sergeant! As I had said earlier, in those days, the New Orleans police department was very corrupt. I had heard stories of what happened to people who defied them. I was terrified. I had never been to jail. I had heard terrible stories of what happened to people like me in jail. So I did what he asked. It was demeaning and disgusting. After all these years, anytime a police car gets behind me, I get a little shaky and I remember that night.
The second time was the worst. I was both beaten and raped and considering what happened later, extremely lucky. His name was Rusty. As his name indicated, he had deep red hair, was two or 3 inches taller than me, and very good looking. I met him at the Midship when I was working. There were other girls in the bar much better looking than I, so I was a little surprised that he was interested in me. I had seen him once or twice at the Roundup, so I knew he did some hustling. But, most of the men that I had sex with were male hustlers. He was new in town, so I don't think anyone knew him very well. He seemed really nice and he knew I was trans, so it never occurred to me that he would be any different than any of the other guys. Even though he had only been around a short time, this was a pretty insulated community, so if there had been something off about him, somebody would have known.
Things started off fine. I liked champagne, so I usually had a couple bottles in the fridge. At that time, I lived with my bartending partner, Fury, and knew she would not be home before noon, as she always went drinking after we got off at 8:00 AM. We drank the champagne, made out, took our clothes off, and the last thing I remembered other than than excruciating pain in my head and my side, was an evil look that came over his face when I refused to do a sex act. He threw me across the room into the television set. I think he punched me a couple of times and kicked me. Then he picked up the champagne bottle and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital. I knew I had been raped because of how I hurt.
Fury found me unconscious and the house trashed when she came home about noon and Rusty was long gone. She told me later she thought I was dead. Head wounds bleed a lot.
I don't know which was worse, the rape, or what happened at the hospital. Fury, my roommate, had not called the police when she found me. She just called an ambulance and told them I was unconscious. Fury found me naked, but had slipped my panty girdle and a robe on me before the ambulance got there. When I first arrived at the hospital, they had not yet discovered that I had male genitalia. The paramedics had been more worried about my head injury than anything else. The nurse who was there when I came to, was very kind and caring until she found out what I was. Then it was like someone flipped a light switch. I had a head wound that required four stitches. Eventually the doctor came in and examined me. He was going to leave it at the head wound, but I had blood on my legs where I had bled from my rectum. He grudgingly did a more thorough exam.
He very told me very coldly that there was some tearing in my rectum and that my ribs were probably just bruised he didn't think there was any reason to "waste" an x-ray. He also told me not to go to sleep for awhile as I probably had a concussion but he could not see tying up a hospital bed for some "thing" like me for a little bump on the head.
Fury had not gone to the hospital with me. She knew the reaction they would have had to her and thought it would be better to stay home and wait to hear from me. The paramedics had told her my vitals were strong and I think they just wanted to load me up and get me away. I heard two nurses talking outside of my curtained area. One told the other one, " there's someone who got what he, emphasis on the 'he', deserved."
As I was getting dressed, a policeman finally showed up. He looked to me up and down and then sneered, " I suppose I have to make a report." I told him I only knew Rusty's first name. I was so mortified. I gave him a description and told him where I had met him and where I had seen him hanging out; whatever I remembered and then I left. I had asked them if they could call a cab for me, but they refused. I found a pay phone outside the hospital and called a friend to come pick me up.
No cops ever showed up at the Roundup looking for him. Maybe if they had, what happened three days later would not have happened. He killed a trans girl named Angel and my friend Bobbi Mattea, who was with them at the time got away out of a second floor window with a broken leg and all beat up, but she was alive.
I remember there was an article in the paper, small because of who it happened to, and I have tried to find it in the Times Picayune archives, but can't. I heard through a couple of girls who came from Houston that he had killed two girls there and had been caught.
Those are the two darkest moments of my life. But I had to learn something from them. You have no choice of what happens in life. The only choice you have is how you react to what happens. I'm here, I'm a good person, I could never be like them. I win!
Sharing this part of my life is something I have done only rarely. I have worked hard over the years to put these dark times behind me. As painful as it will be to share this part of my life, it is because of this pervasive violence that I will be opening a door that I would rather remained closed. We all need to do better by our trans brothers and sisters.
I like to think the people who know me would tell you that I was kind, compassionate, loving and positive. I have been blessed in my life with loving and supportive friends and family. I believe that they are the reason that I have been able to successfully put this painful time of my life behind me. We all need to be that loving and supportive friend or family member for those who are transitioning and most especially for those who are victims of violence. When something like this happens to you, there are so many emotions. You are terrified, you feel ashamed, you are outraged, but worst of all, you feel helpless!
On with the story. After landing back in New Orleans, my first job was as a church secretary at a Methodist church, if you can believe that. That only lasted two months. My next job was for the Federal Reserve Bank. I was a secretary in the Computer Services department. I really loved that job and hated that I had to leave it. I had a driver's license and a Social Security card in my female name. After I had been working at the Fed for a few months, it was brought to my attention that they did not have a copy of my birth certificate. That wasn't gonna happen.
Another problem that I was having, was feeling very disconnected. I worked all day with biological women, but I could not allow myself to get too close lest my little secret would come out. I was offered an opportunity to work at the one transgender bar in the French Quarter, called the Midship. Because I had felt so disconnected working a straight job, I jumped at the chance.
I am not quite sure the best way to put these stories together so I will start by telling you a little about the bar scene in the French quarter around 1980. This also might be helpful to those who don't understand the different kinds of LGBT bars.
Charlene's on Elysian Fields Street was the lesbian bar. There was a leather bar called the Golden Lantern on Royal Street. The Bourbon Pub and Café Lafitte's In Exile, a block apart on Bourbon Street, were for the gay guys. The male hustlers and their clientele hung out at a place called the Roundup. Occasionally some of the trans girls whose boyfriends were hustlers would also come into the Roundup. I worked the midnight to 8am shift, the best shift because no one came out to party much before midnight and generally didn't go home till dawn. The Roundup was my post shift bloody Mary bar. The Post Office and Fat Sam's Speakeasy were the two drag bars. The Midship, where I worked, was where the transgender girls hung out. At that time, most people hung out in their own kind of bar. The exception, was show night at the drag bars. Most people in the community liked the drag shows, so show nights had a pretty mixed crowd. Another exception was Le bistro, a dance club across the street from the Bourbon Pub where anyone who liked to dance went.
The French quarter at that time in history was a unique place, especially being in the southern bible belt. At that time, there were not a lot of places in the country where LGBT people could congregate without too much fear of harassment. I believe a lot of that had to do with the fact that most people considered Bourbon street to be a den of iniquity. It was known for its hard partying crowds and strip clubs. Most of the time the police force left us alone. In those days, the New Orleans police department was known for being very lazy and corrupt. Occasionally, they did crack down, and were not someone to argue with.
The sad fact of those days, was that the majority of the trans girls could only make money one of two ways. They either stripped at one of the two female impersonator strip clubs on Bourbon street, mainly frequented by tourists, or they hustled. Hustling could mean sex work, robbing or a combination of the two. It was such a dangerous life for those girls. It also isolated them from the rest of the community. They were, for this reason, looked down upon by most of the other lesbian and gay bars, with the exception of the Roundup and LeBistro and were not made welcome.
I, and a couple of others, were an exception to that rule. Because I had started off as a drag performer, I had friends from all parts of the community. Also, I was fortunate in that I never had to resort to sex work to keep a roof over my head or myself fed has so many others did. Is it weird that I felt guilty about that? I did. I liked everybody and I wanted everyone to like everyone else. God, I can't believe how naïve I was back then!
I marvel sometimes that the fact that I have made it to the ripe old age of almost 61 still relatively sane. I have always had issues and I supposed to a certain extent, I still do. I just have a better handle on them these days. I have always felt, the best way I can explain it, is "less than". Until these last few years, I never felt like I fit in anywhere. The one benefit of this is that I have always tried to be the nicest person I could be. I always wanted people to like me. Unfortunately, I have not always made the wisest choice in the people I wanted to like me. I am fortunate that most people do like me. I am still insecure enough to sometimes be surprised that they do, but it's a good thing. My insecurities have kept me from finding someone to love me in a romantic way for any length of time. If I had always just been able to be me, maybe that might have been different. When you don't fit, you want to control whatever you can and people do not like to be controlled.
For those of you who don't know the difference, I will explain the trick and a date. A trick, is a consensual sexual encounter. A date, is sex for money. I had had a couple of dates, more or less accidentally, meaning I thought I was having a trick and after it was over, the guy gave me money. That turned out to be a bonus in more ways than one.
When I first started working at the Midship, there was a rumor going around that I was a "real" girl and the regulars were upset that the owner had not hired a trans girl. At the time, I was still going by my stage name, Rita Merrill. I quickly picked up the nickname, "Rita Real". Once that got settled, some of the regulars knew I had done drag and had never been a working girl like they were and for that reason maybe I thought I was better than they were. So, my roommate, Fury, sharing that I had, indeed turned a trick, smoothed things over for me.
Fury was one of the most interesting people I had ever met. She was 6'7" without her heels and not someone you would want to mess with. She had been involved in the Stonewall riot. Fury did not take crap from anyone and while the bar could be a dangerous place, I always felt safe when she was with me. She was an awesome person with a heart bigger than she was and while having a very gruff countenance, never hesitated to help someone in need.
I had frequent tricks. I was in my mid twenties and I have always been a very sexual person. My problem always was how to have sex. I never felt comfortable with the small genitalia I was born with and didn't like to be touched there. However, I also do not enjoy anal sex. Before I had my surgery, I never had a boyfriend for more than a couple of weeks. Most of the guys I met pre surgery were interested in having gay sex with me. My theory is that they were struggling with their own sexual identity and it was all right to have sex with a male as long as he looked like a female.
This was the cause of some of the first physical violence I experienced. A partner would try to force me to do something I did not want to do in the course of consensual sex play and on a couple of occasions slapped me when I didn't do what he wanted. I didn't like this, but was able to handle it. It was quite the conundrum, wanting to have sex all the time, but never figuring out how to do it right for me.
Now, readers, we're going to go someplace very dark and painful for me. I haven't talked about this in depth for many years. I don't want to be any more graphic than is absolutely necessary, but I also don't want to gloss over anything. Don't worry, I have a big old fat xanax ready to take after I get through this. Yes, it is prescription.
The first rape happened when I was working at Papa Joe's on Bourbon Street. Parking in the French quarter was always a challenge. This particular night I had parked about six blocks away from the club. As I was walking the last block to my little blue convertible, I noticed a police cruiser slowly following me up the block. I thought to myself, great now I'm going get hassled for walking to my car. I was relieved when the cruiser drove on by. At that time, I've lived in uptown New Orleans about 4 miles from the French quarter.
I had just crossed Canal street, the main downtown street in New Orleans, heading uptown, when I noticed a police cruiser behind me. I really didn't think anything about it at that moment as I wasn't doing anything wrong. So I just kept on driving toward home. I was still about a mile away when he turned his lights on and pulled me over. I still didn't put it together with the cruiser that had followed me to my car.
I could tell you guys about his line of bull about how I had a tail light out (I didn't), but instead will just get right to it. He followed me to my house and told me that either I did what he wanted or he would charge me for solicitation for prostitution and take me to jail. To make matters worse, he was not just a patrol cop, he was a sergeant! As I had said earlier, in those days, the New Orleans police department was very corrupt. I had heard stories of what happened to people who defied them. I was terrified. I had never been to jail. I had heard terrible stories of what happened to people like me in jail. So I did what he asked. It was demeaning and disgusting. After all these years, anytime a police car gets behind me, I get a little shaky and I remember that night.
The second time was the worst. I was both beaten and raped and considering what happened later, extremely lucky. His name was Rusty. As his name indicated, he had deep red hair, was two or 3 inches taller than me, and very good looking. I met him at the Midship when I was working. There were other girls in the bar much better looking than I, so I was a little surprised that he was interested in me. I had seen him once or twice at the Roundup, so I knew he did some hustling. But, most of the men that I had sex with were male hustlers. He was new in town, so I don't think anyone knew him very well. He seemed really nice and he knew I was trans, so it never occurred to me that he would be any different than any of the other guys. Even though he had only been around a short time, this was a pretty insulated community, so if there had been something off about him, somebody would have known.
Things started off fine. I liked champagne, so I usually had a couple bottles in the fridge. At that time, I lived with my bartending partner, Fury, and knew she would not be home before noon, as she always went drinking after we got off at 8:00 AM. We drank the champagne, made out, took our clothes off, and the last thing I remembered other than than excruciating pain in my head and my side, was an evil look that came over his face when I refused to do a sex act. He threw me across the room into the television set. I think he punched me a couple of times and kicked me. Then he picked up the champagne bottle and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital. I knew I had been raped because of how I hurt.
Fury found me unconscious and the house trashed when she came home about noon and Rusty was long gone. She told me later she thought I was dead. Head wounds bleed a lot.
I don't know which was worse, the rape, or what happened at the hospital. Fury, my roommate, had not called the police when she found me. She just called an ambulance and told them I was unconscious. Fury found me naked, but had slipped my panty girdle and a robe on me before the ambulance got there. When I first arrived at the hospital, they had not yet discovered that I had male genitalia. The paramedics had been more worried about my head injury than anything else. The nurse who was there when I came to, was very kind and caring until she found out what I was. Then it was like someone flipped a light switch. I had a head wound that required four stitches. Eventually the doctor came in and examined me. He was going to leave it at the head wound, but I had blood on my legs where I had bled from my rectum. He grudgingly did a more thorough exam.
He very told me very coldly that there was some tearing in my rectum and that my ribs were probably just bruised he didn't think there was any reason to "waste" an x-ray. He also told me not to go to sleep for awhile as I probably had a concussion but he could not see tying up a hospital bed for some "thing" like me for a little bump on the head.
Fury had not gone to the hospital with me. She knew the reaction they would have had to her and thought it would be better to stay home and wait to hear from me. The paramedics had told her my vitals were strong and I think they just wanted to load me up and get me away. I heard two nurses talking outside of my curtained area. One told the other one, " there's someone who got what he, emphasis on the 'he', deserved."
As I was getting dressed, a policeman finally showed up. He looked to me up and down and then sneered, " I suppose I have to make a report." I told him I only knew Rusty's first name. I was so mortified. I gave him a description and told him where I had met him and where I had seen him hanging out; whatever I remembered and then I left. I had asked them if they could call a cab for me, but they refused. I found a pay phone outside the hospital and called a friend to come pick me up.
No cops ever showed up at the Roundup looking for him. Maybe if they had, what happened three days later would not have happened. He killed a trans girl named Angel and my friend Bobbi Mattea, who was with them at the time got away out of a second floor window with a broken leg and all beat up, but she was alive.
I remember there was an article in the paper, small because of who it happened to, and I have tried to find it in the Times Picayune archives, but can't. I heard through a couple of girls who came from Houston that he had killed two girls there and had been caught.
Those are the two darkest moments of my life. But I had to learn something from them. You have no choice of what happens in life. The only choice you have is how you react to what happens. I'm here, I'm a good person, I could never be like them. I win!
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Trucker Patti Goes To College.
I want to preface this blog entry by saying that I don't think what I'm going to write will be all that interesting. I am still not sure yet where I am going with this blog. So far, I am telling my story chronologically. I had originally thought about just telling a stories about something that happened in my life for each blog entry. I think though, that the stories will make more sense if my readers have a idea of where I was in my life at the time of the story and what had come before. Comments on this would be very helpful.
I left New Orleans in the spring of 1978 for Modesto, California. This was where I had gone to high school and where my mother still lived. I had planned on living with her while I went to school. I had managed to salvage the GI bill that my commanding officer had tried to take away from the with his threat of a dishonorable discharge, but it wasn't enough money to pay for school and provide living expenses. As it turned out, I wasn't able to live with my mother. At the time she had live in boyfriend who didn't care for the idea that I was transitioning. That meant I had to find a job. Finding a job in Modesto in 1978 was not the easiest thing to do. The only place that was willing to hire me, was an adult movie theater as a cashier. I don't really have any interesting stories about working there. Well, there was the one time that an 18 year old, red headed, freckle faced boy who looked like he was 12 (I had to card him), came in and you could see he was wearing black lingerie under his t-shirt.
I went two Modesto Junior College. Instead of going as "Patrick", I went as "Pat." The administration knew my gender, but my professors did not. This was my first experience with, what some in the transgender community refer to as "stealth mode." I took great pains to not get to close to other students so they wouldn't find out about me. I was 24 and most of them were 18 or 19, so it wasn't too hard. I did tell a few people and my professor in my drama class after a few weeks and even though I was scared to death of rejection, they were actually supportive. Theater is very intimate. It was very hard to be stealth.
Any of you who have been to college realize that your first year is basically general education courses. I signed up for those and drama classes well. I had been out of school for 6 years by this time, and I had a very hard time being interested in anything other than my human sexual behavior class and drama. Plus, I was working 32 hours a week and going to school full time. You have a lot of extra curricular things with drama, and I was exhausted most of the time.
The biggest problem I had as far as drama class went, was my suitability for roles. At 6 feet tall and 250 lbs., I could hardly play and ingenue. So the only thing that was left for me, were character roles. My drama teacher did tell me that one of the things that she enjoyed about me was my enthusiasm. She said usually she had to work to get her students to project. I was one of the few students that she had work to get to project less. It seems I always had a big mouth.
I did not do well that first semester of college. I barely managed to pass all of my classes with the exception of my drama class in which I got in "A". I got a "B" in my human sexual behavior class and an "A" on my final paper which was about the different terms for homosexuality! I hadn't learned the hanky code yet, or I would have added it to the paper and spiced it up a little.
Working, trying to go to school, and being so absorbed in my own head trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to get enough money for surgery made my life pretty difficult. Other than the few kids in drama class that I had confided in, I had no social life. Dating was definitely not an option, although I probably got hit on by every kind of creepy guy that came to the adult theater.
On a visit to San Francisco while I was still in the Navy and home in Modesto on leave, I was introduced to David Petras, who owned San Francisco Trucking Company. After I moved back to Modesto, I visited David in San Francisco several times. There was no romance, but we had become good friends. When I told him the problems I was having dealing with school, he offered me a job running his office. He also offered me a place to stay. He had a three bedroom apartment about two blocks north of Market and Castro street. That was a really interesting neighborhood in 1978. His office was in the apartment.
While I was working for David, I found out about Stanford University Medical Center's Gender Dysphoria Clinic in Palo Alto, California. I went for an initial visit, where they gave me the name of an endocrinologist near me in San Francisco and also provided me with the necessary paperwork to take to the Department of Motor Vehicles and Social Security to get a driver's license and a Social Security card in my female name. My mother and I came up with the name together.
My birth name was Patrick William and wanted something to keep my same initials. Mom said originally, if I had been a girl, she was going to name me Patricia Anne. I told her I understood the Patricia, by why "Anne?" "That's it," she cried! Wyanne for a middle name. Patricia Wyanne had the same initials and amount of letters as Patrick William did, so it stuck. I thought it was pretty cool that my mother gave me my female name!
I went to the endocrinologist initially for hormone therapy. She had some previous knowledge of Klinefelter's syndrome and how it presented physically in patients and thought there might be a good possibility that I had it. She did a chromosome structure on me and sure enough, I was XXY.
Business at San Francisco Trucking Company was enough to keep David busy, as at that time he only had one truck. It wasn't enough to keep me busy. I decided I wanted to strike out on my own and get a job as a woman. So I answered an ad in the newspaper and went two work for Toyomenka America, a Japanese based company that had offices worldwide. And worked as a secretary. I had no trouble passing as a woman. It was a bit interesting having so many short Asian men looking up at my 6 foot blond bombshell beauty!
During this time, I was still regularly speaking with Carrie Nye Cavett. I had really loved drama class in college and had a really strong drive to pursue something in theater. I also had then I even thought, that Dick Cavett and Carrie Nye could help me if I went to New York. I don't remember for sure what my thinking at the time was, and that it must've been along the lines of not wanting to warn them that I was coming thinking that maybe they would try to dissuade me. However, if I actually showed up there, I was sure that they would help me.
So many times I think back to those days and see how much my judgment was clouded by being so obsessed about having gender affirmation surgery, which in those days we call a sex change. I like gender affirmation surgery better. I wish now that I had stayed in college did whenever it was that I needed to do to get my degree. But, you cannot live your life full of regret. Hindsight is always 2020 and many of the experiences I had in my life I might not have had if that was the road I had gone down.
I would go back to school one more time after having surgery. At that time I was 29 years old and going to school with a bunch of 19 and 20 year olds was difficult. At school, I had learned the new technology of word processing and during summer vacation, I took a temporary position working for an attorney at a title insurance company. After one day of working for her, she offered me a fulltime job with a decent salary and that benefit. I was done with college.
I left New Orleans in the spring of 1978 for Modesto, California. This was where I had gone to high school and where my mother still lived. I had planned on living with her while I went to school. I had managed to salvage the GI bill that my commanding officer had tried to take away from the with his threat of a dishonorable discharge, but it wasn't enough money to pay for school and provide living expenses. As it turned out, I wasn't able to live with my mother. At the time she had live in boyfriend who didn't care for the idea that I was transitioning. That meant I had to find a job. Finding a job in Modesto in 1978 was not the easiest thing to do. The only place that was willing to hire me, was an adult movie theater as a cashier. I don't really have any interesting stories about working there. Well, there was the one time that an 18 year old, red headed, freckle faced boy who looked like he was 12 (I had to card him), came in and you could see he was wearing black lingerie under his t-shirt.
I went two Modesto Junior College. Instead of going as "Patrick", I went as "Pat." The administration knew my gender, but my professors did not. This was my first experience with, what some in the transgender community refer to as "stealth mode." I took great pains to not get to close to other students so they wouldn't find out about me. I was 24 and most of them were 18 or 19, so it wasn't too hard. I did tell a few people and my professor in my drama class after a few weeks and even though I was scared to death of rejection, they were actually supportive. Theater is very intimate. It was very hard to be stealth.
Any of you who have been to college realize that your first year is basically general education courses. I signed up for those and drama classes well. I had been out of school for 6 years by this time, and I had a very hard time being interested in anything other than my human sexual behavior class and drama. Plus, I was working 32 hours a week and going to school full time. You have a lot of extra curricular things with drama, and I was exhausted most of the time.
The biggest problem I had as far as drama class went, was my suitability for roles. At 6 feet tall and 250 lbs., I could hardly play and ingenue. So the only thing that was left for me, were character roles. My drama teacher did tell me that one of the things that she enjoyed about me was my enthusiasm. She said usually she had to work to get her students to project. I was one of the few students that she had work to get to project less. It seems I always had a big mouth.
I did not do well that first semester of college. I barely managed to pass all of my classes with the exception of my drama class in which I got in "A". I got a "B" in my human sexual behavior class and an "A" on my final paper which was about the different terms for homosexuality! I hadn't learned the hanky code yet, or I would have added it to the paper and spiced it up a little.
Working, trying to go to school, and being so absorbed in my own head trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to get enough money for surgery made my life pretty difficult. Other than the few kids in drama class that I had confided in, I had no social life. Dating was definitely not an option, although I probably got hit on by every kind of creepy guy that came to the adult theater.
On a visit to San Francisco while I was still in the Navy and home in Modesto on leave, I was introduced to David Petras, who owned San Francisco Trucking Company. After I moved back to Modesto, I visited David in San Francisco several times. There was no romance, but we had become good friends. When I told him the problems I was having dealing with school, he offered me a job running his office. He also offered me a place to stay. He had a three bedroom apartment about two blocks north of Market and Castro street. That was a really interesting neighborhood in 1978. His office was in the apartment.
While I was working for David, I found out about Stanford University Medical Center's Gender Dysphoria Clinic in Palo Alto, California. I went for an initial visit, where they gave me the name of an endocrinologist near me in San Francisco and also provided me with the necessary paperwork to take to the Department of Motor Vehicles and Social Security to get a driver's license and a Social Security card in my female name. My mother and I came up with the name together.
My birth name was Patrick William and wanted something to keep my same initials. Mom said originally, if I had been a girl, she was going to name me Patricia Anne. I told her I understood the Patricia, by why "Anne?" "That's it," she cried! Wyanne for a middle name. Patricia Wyanne had the same initials and amount of letters as Patrick William did, so it stuck. I thought it was pretty cool that my mother gave me my female name!
I went to the endocrinologist initially for hormone therapy. She had some previous knowledge of Klinefelter's syndrome and how it presented physically in patients and thought there might be a good possibility that I had it. She did a chromosome structure on me and sure enough, I was XXY.
Business at San Francisco Trucking Company was enough to keep David busy, as at that time he only had one truck. It wasn't enough to keep me busy. I decided I wanted to strike out on my own and get a job as a woman. So I answered an ad in the newspaper and went two work for Toyomenka America, a Japanese based company that had offices worldwide. And worked as a secretary. I had no trouble passing as a woman. It was a bit interesting having so many short Asian men looking up at my 6 foot blond bombshell beauty!
During this time, I was still regularly speaking with Carrie Nye Cavett. I had really loved drama class in college and had a really strong drive to pursue something in theater. I also had then I even thought, that Dick Cavett and Carrie Nye could help me if I went to New York. I don't remember for sure what my thinking at the time was, and that it must've been along the lines of not wanting to warn them that I was coming thinking that maybe they would try to dissuade me. However, if I actually showed up there, I was sure that they would help me.
So many times I think back to those days and see how much my judgment was clouded by being so obsessed about having gender affirmation surgery, which in those days we call a sex change. I like gender affirmation surgery better. I wish now that I had stayed in college did whenever it was that I needed to do to get my degree. But, you cannot live your life full of regret. Hindsight is always 2020 and many of the experiences I had in my life I might not have had if that was the road I had gone down.
I would go back to school one more time after having surgery. At that time I was 29 years old and going to school with a bunch of 19 and 20 year olds was difficult. At school, I had learned the new technology of word processing and during summer vacation, I took a temporary position working for an attorney at a title insurance company. After one day of working for her, she offered me a fulltime job with a decent salary and that benefit. I was done with college.
Monday, December 8, 2014
New Orleans Is A Drag!
My drag career started at a bar in the French quarter of New Orleans called the Post Office. I believe that the bar was located at the corner of St. Louis and Burgundy. Drag was a bit different in those days. Most performers had few resources for wigs, costumes, makeup, etc.. There were a few of the older queen performing, that were involved in the Mardi Gras krewes. They had more elaborate wigs and costumes than us younger performers.
When I first started performing, I was still in the Navy. I wasn't making that much money, but I was able to purchase a few nice outfits and a couple of good wigs. After I got out of the Navy and had to support myself with whatever temporary jobs I could find, it was harder to find money for drag. In those days, performers worked only for tips. Usually the amount of money we made was enough for a few cocktails and maybe a meal, but not enough to support ourselves. We did a lot of sharing of resources.
As a performer, my only real claims to fame, was that I looked real and I wasn't good lipsyncer. After I had been performing at the Post Office for about six months, a man named Bruce Richardson was opening a club a block down the street called Fat Sam's Speakeasy. One of my best friends, Paulette, who was not only talented as a performer, but also as a director and choreographer, not to mention extremely beautiful and very convincing as a woman, was asked to join the cast. My mind is a little foggy on exactly who else was in the original cast but I do remember Regina Adams, Sandra, and probably the best performer in town at the time, who was the reigning Miss Gay New Orleans, Lisa Baumann. To my surprise, I also was asked to be part of the original cast. I was thrilled to be in such talented company.
Some of the performers impersonated specific female singers. Lisa Baumann is, without question, the best Liza Minnelli impersonator I have ever seen, but Lisa is just all around talented. I don't think there is anything she couldn't do, once she set her mind to it. I believe, that she was the only person in the cast with legitimate theater training. I did not have anyone in particular that I could make myself look like. I was pretty, in a girl next door kind of way, but I was overweight, so really couldn't make myself look like any of the popular female performers of the day. However, I loved doing anything Bette Midler. Some of my best performances, were her material.
While we all did our own solo numbers, one of my favorite things to do were the cast skits. Most of those were directed and choreographed by Paulette. She could be intensely dramatic on one number and hilarious on the next. I was the least experienced and talented of the group and I only got better because of the generosity of my castmates. My biggest limitations as a performer was the fact that I couldn't dance, was not graceful, and my fashion sense was very lacking. To a certain extent, I could follow choreography. This was one of the most fun and creative times of my life. However, impersonating a female just was not enough for me. I had to become on the outside, the woman I was on the inside.
At one point, my mother came to town for a conference and came to see the show. As I had always been a klutz as a child. She told me she was very surprised at how graceful I appeared on stage. I told her that was only because every move I made was choreographed by someone else. This was the first time my mother had ever seen my female persona. We had talked about the whole "transsexual" thing, but it wasn't until after seeing me this way, that she started to understand. From this point on, she was my biggest supporter.
While doing shows, I met my first celebrity. Dick Cavett, an extremely popular television talk show host and his wife Carrie Nye, a celebrated Broadway actress, were regular attendees to the show. I was introduced to them and was invited to sit with them after the show. To my surprise, they seemed to really like me and after that night, I had many dinners and lunches with them, especially with Carrie Nye, whom I became friends with.
One of the biggest faux pas happened on a night out with them. We were going to the Commander's Palace for dinner with Carrie Nye's childhood friend, Dr. Mary Pillow Scales and I was sitting in the back seat with Dick. He had become very friendly with my pal, Paulette, who like me, was transgender. He told me he could tell that we were different from some of our hard partying friends. I laughed and told him, "so many of those queens are after just three things, booze, dope and dick." I took me a second to realize who I was sitting next to, and fell all over myself trying to apologize and he just roared with laughter. He said it was one of the funniest things he had ever heard. After I left New Orleans for California, Carrie Nye and I remained in touch and my mother was always surprised at the fact that a well known Broadway actress was calling her home to speak to her child.
I read more into the relationship with Dik and Carrie Nye than what was actually there. My first year of college, I was a drama major. I had come up with a wild scheme to go to New York and study acting at NYU. I was counting on this relationship with Dick and Carrie Nye to open some doors for me as far as auditions and maybe getting some roles. It might have been a good idea to have actually told Carrie Nye what I was planning, because when I showed up unannounced in New York and let them know that I was in town, I think they were a bit horrified. They vacationed in New Orleans fairly anonymously in those days. Their life in New York was totally separate. I lasted about six months in New York working for a temp agency. I had only one I audition, could not find any acting classes I could afford, and after getting sick and losing my temporary job, ran out of money. Note to prospective thespians; if you are going to pursue your dreams, have some ready cash to see you through! Dick gave me $200 so that I could drive to New Orleans. This would not be my first time returning to the safety of the rather insulated community of the French quarter. At this period of time, the late seventies and early eighties, there were only a few places where trans women could live without too much violence against them. New Orleans was one of those places. I say "too much violence", only because even as gay and trans friendly the French Quarter seemed, violence did rear it's ugly head. Another story for another time. The violence against me was a very dark time in my life that I am not quite ready to share yet.
After I returned to New Orleans, I went back to work for Bruce Richardson at Fat Sam's new location on Basin street. It was there that I met my next celebrity. Patti Labelle attended one of our shows. I did get to talk to her briefly and hugged her, but never established any relationship with her. I worked there for about six months and was temping to pay the rent. Brue was one of the sweetest people I ever met. He was a huge supporter of the art form of drag. I was very sad to learn that, a couple of years after I left Fat Sam's, that Bruce was brutally murdered. This was my first brush with a close friend dying. That would change later with the AIDS epidemic.
My next opportunity to perform, was at the most famous female impersonator bar in the French Quarter. The name of the club was Papa Joe's, which is still in existence on Bourbon Street today. I only worked there for a few months, because as opposed to doing drag shows, this club was a more about exploitation. Most of the performers were strippers and I actually put on the pasties a time or two myself. This club was mainly for tourists and most of what I did was a comedy routine to end the show, get the current group of tourists on their way, so a new group could come in. I had always felt really comfortable working at the gay, drag bars, but at Papa Joe's, I just felt like a freak.
My next a gig would be bartending at a transgender bar called the Mid Ship. But that's another story for another day.
When I first started performing, I was still in the Navy. I wasn't making that much money, but I was able to purchase a few nice outfits and a couple of good wigs. After I got out of the Navy and had to support myself with whatever temporary jobs I could find, it was harder to find money for drag. In those days, performers worked only for tips. Usually the amount of money we made was enough for a few cocktails and maybe a meal, but not enough to support ourselves. We did a lot of sharing of resources.
As a performer, my only real claims to fame, was that I looked real and I wasn't good lipsyncer. After I had been performing at the Post Office for about six months, a man named Bruce Richardson was opening a club a block down the street called Fat Sam's Speakeasy. One of my best friends, Paulette, who was not only talented as a performer, but also as a director and choreographer, not to mention extremely beautiful and very convincing as a woman, was asked to join the cast. My mind is a little foggy on exactly who else was in the original cast but I do remember Regina Adams, Sandra, and probably the best performer in town at the time, who was the reigning Miss Gay New Orleans, Lisa Baumann. To my surprise, I also was asked to be part of the original cast. I was thrilled to be in such talented company.
Some of the performers impersonated specific female singers. Lisa Baumann is, without question, the best Liza Minnelli impersonator I have ever seen, but Lisa is just all around talented. I don't think there is anything she couldn't do, once she set her mind to it. I believe, that she was the only person in the cast with legitimate theater training. I did not have anyone in particular that I could make myself look like. I was pretty, in a girl next door kind of way, but I was overweight, so really couldn't make myself look like any of the popular female performers of the day. However, I loved doing anything Bette Midler. Some of my best performances, were her material.
While we all did our own solo numbers, one of my favorite things to do were the cast skits. Most of those were directed and choreographed by Paulette. She could be intensely dramatic on one number and hilarious on the next. I was the least experienced and talented of the group and I only got better because of the generosity of my castmates. My biggest limitations as a performer was the fact that I couldn't dance, was not graceful, and my fashion sense was very lacking. To a certain extent, I could follow choreography. This was one of the most fun and creative times of my life. However, impersonating a female just was not enough for me. I had to become on the outside, the woman I was on the inside.
At one point, my mother came to town for a conference and came to see the show. As I had always been a klutz as a child. She told me she was very surprised at how graceful I appeared on stage. I told her that was only because every move I made was choreographed by someone else. This was the first time my mother had ever seen my female persona. We had talked about the whole "transsexual" thing, but it wasn't until after seeing me this way, that she started to understand. From this point on, she was my biggest supporter.
While doing shows, I met my first celebrity. Dick Cavett, an extremely popular television talk show host and his wife Carrie Nye, a celebrated Broadway actress, were regular attendees to the show. I was introduced to them and was invited to sit with them after the show. To my surprise, they seemed to really like me and after that night, I had many dinners and lunches with them, especially with Carrie Nye, whom I became friends with.
One of the biggest faux pas happened on a night out with them. We were going to the Commander's Palace for dinner with Carrie Nye's childhood friend, Dr. Mary Pillow Scales and I was sitting in the back seat with Dick. He had become very friendly with my pal, Paulette, who like me, was transgender. He told me he could tell that we were different from some of our hard partying friends. I laughed and told him, "so many of those queens are after just three things, booze, dope and dick." I took me a second to realize who I was sitting next to, and fell all over myself trying to apologize and he just roared with laughter. He said it was one of the funniest things he had ever heard. After I left New Orleans for California, Carrie Nye and I remained in touch and my mother was always surprised at the fact that a well known Broadway actress was calling her home to speak to her child.
I read more into the relationship with Dik and Carrie Nye than what was actually there. My first year of college, I was a drama major. I had come up with a wild scheme to go to New York and study acting at NYU. I was counting on this relationship with Dick and Carrie Nye to open some doors for me as far as auditions and maybe getting some roles. It might have been a good idea to have actually told Carrie Nye what I was planning, because when I showed up unannounced in New York and let them know that I was in town, I think they were a bit horrified. They vacationed in New Orleans fairly anonymously in those days. Their life in New York was totally separate. I lasted about six months in New York working for a temp agency. I had only one I audition, could not find any acting classes I could afford, and after getting sick and losing my temporary job, ran out of money. Note to prospective thespians; if you are going to pursue your dreams, have some ready cash to see you through! Dick gave me $200 so that I could drive to New Orleans. This would not be my first time returning to the safety of the rather insulated community of the French quarter. At this period of time, the late seventies and early eighties, there were only a few places where trans women could live without too much violence against them. New Orleans was one of those places. I say "too much violence", only because even as gay and trans friendly the French Quarter seemed, violence did rear it's ugly head. Another story for another time. The violence against me was a very dark time in my life that I am not quite ready to share yet.
After I returned to New Orleans, I went back to work for Bruce Richardson at Fat Sam's new location on Basin street. It was there that I met my next celebrity. Patti Labelle attended one of our shows. I did get to talk to her briefly and hugged her, but never established any relationship with her. I worked there for about six months and was temping to pay the rent. Brue was one of the sweetest people I ever met. He was a huge supporter of the art form of drag. I was very sad to learn that, a couple of years after I left Fat Sam's, that Bruce was brutally murdered. This was my first brush with a close friend dying. That would change later with the AIDS epidemic.
My next opportunity to perform, was at the most famous female impersonator bar in the French Quarter. The name of the club was Papa Joe's, which is still in existence on Bourbon Street today. I only worked there for a few months, because as opposed to doing drag shows, this club was a more about exploitation. Most of the performers were strippers and I actually put on the pasties a time or two myself. This club was mainly for tourists and most of what I did was a comedy routine to end the show, get the current group of tourists on their way, so a new group could come in. I had always felt really comfortable working at the gay, drag bars, but at Papa Joe's, I just felt like a freak.
My next a gig would be bartending at a transgender bar called the Mid Ship. But that's another story for another day.
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