Theatre for Life and Beyond Reflections have partnered on Trans-Generation-All, a project that brings trans+ people of all ages together to enjoy creative expression and use their stories to create a groundbreaking theatre performance. This project included eight creative workshops funded by the National Lottery Community Fund. This blog is some of my reflections on the workshops I was lucky enough to attend as both a participant and an evaluator (more on that later!).
Locating ourselves through writing
How I was coming into the space:
“I feel like things are everywhere at the moment, and like I have so much to do, but also not enough. I feel overwhelmed-ish, but also very underwhelmed. The days are long and short at the same time, and I can’t reconcile all these dichotomies.
I wonder if perimenopause is causing some of this confusion. It feels like I only just got into adulthood, and now I’m somehow leaving it – I only just stepped into motherhood, and now my body is closing down for reproduction. We don’t want other children, but it still stings. I wonder what queer menopause looks like, what Autistic menopause looks like. Currently: salty snacks, sweating profusely and the rage to kill a hundred men”
Before writing this at the session, it hadn’t occurred to me that this transition was weighing on me emotionally. I knew I was struggling with some of the symptoms, but not so much the emotion of it all. There is something there about not having the choice to have another child in the traditional manner that weighs on me. I need to talk to a doctor about my perimenopause and talk to my therapist about how I’m feeling emotionally.
I was also able to ‘compost’ or recycle some words from the group activity to make a poem I call ORIGAMI.
Folding and unfolding,
creating a paper crane along perforated edges.
Its wings are battered as it flies into the waste paper basket.
It lands on the many balled-up papers of previous constructions.
Start again:
Fold left side,
Right side,
Down the middle,
Along the edge,
Done.
This one soars through the window and lands in a tree.
Days go by.
Wind, rain, sun.
My crane drops slovenly to the ground, swirling in the gathering storm,
Sailing through the water, not the air,
Never the air,
It rests a while, self-assured in its freedom before being swallowed whole by the drain.
Crumple and uncrumple,
Fold left side,
Right side,
Down the middle,
I’m done.
I haven’t written poetry in a long while, and it was nice to do. This was a reflection on how I don’t fit the cookie-cutter idea of binary gender, the origami folding of it. How these pre-made or pre-prepared forms are not made for me, or many like me.
Tonight’s session felt like coming home. There is an unspoken language between trans people; you know that you will be held with care, listened to, and respected.
There is no feeling of getting something wrong. That said, I did come off camera to wipe away a few tears. I cried two or three times.
I like how everyone engaged differently; there were options and choices, and by the end, people were sharing some of their work openly. It felt like a coming together of souls. I would like to see these participants again, but am honoured by their time, feelings and experiences shared tonight. I am very grateful to be able to do this work with the trans+ community. It just feels right.
Trans+ Joy Through Art
We got given large post-it notes (hooray!) and were asked ten questions all about trans+ joy. I had difficulty answering most of them as I’m still trying to work out what that means for me. We were then invited to create art about trans+ joy based on our collective answers. I decided to create a zine, which I will fill with wonderful thoughts and ideas that arise during the other creative sessions. I painted some of the pages with sunsets, stars, and a flower, because I think nature is odd, beautiful, resilient, and queer as hell.
Image descriptions:
- A white card zine, one page remains blank, and the right side is a painted dark blue night sky with white stars.
- This random fish was stuck to a starry piece of tissue paper from another session. He belongs in the zine. Definitely. No fish left behind!
Objects That Mean Something (Online)
For this session, we were asked to bring an object that meant something to us as trans+ people. I wanted to bring the Trans Aware Cancer Care flag in, but it is at another person’s house and is about 6 metres long!
I wanted to bring the flag as it represents the first opportunity I have had to make queer and trans+ kinship, which didn’t revolve around alcohol, and what that means to me as someone in recovery.
Again, I recycled some words from the group activity to write a poem I call NO RETURNS.
My transness is a gift I gave myself,
The gift of not asking permission,
The gift of taking up space,
The gift of finally being me.
Cisnormativity is the gift I never asked for,
It brings me no joy,
There is no receipt,
just pain and frustration.
My transness is a pass-the-parcel,
layers and layers of material to unwrap,
one layer revealing the next,
between the material lay sweet treats.
Cisnormativity is a last-minute panic buy,
It holds no meaning to me,
It wasn’t bought for me,
merely slapped together for appearance’s sake.
My transness is a gift I sometimes share,
but one I will always treasure,
It is the loved object I cannot hold,
the one I will never let go of.
I left the session feeling more at peace with myself, my feeling of midnight blue changing to a burnt orange. I felt warm and held.
Time Capsules and Utopias
We had a gorgeous collaborative visual art session to finish off our workshop time together. A group of us worked on a large piece of visual arts using stickers, paint, pens, pencils and other materials. Some of these were created and then added later, and some were put straight on the page.
Honestly, I laughed so much during this session as we spoke about embarrassing celebrity crushes! But we also spoke about cultural appropriation, family acceptance and estrangement, and so much more. It’s amazing what you talk about when your hands are busy making art.
I am sad that these sessions come to an end, and I know others are, but we also get to add to the verbatim theatre show, so the work and community don’t stop here.
Final thoughts
During these sessions, we got to turn up messy, unkempt, confused, stressed from getting there, run down by life, late, leaving early, and doing poetry in every session except the poetry session. No ‘good vibes only’ bullshit. Fuck that. A safer space. We could put ‘pussy’ as an answer, we could call out ableism, talk intersectionality, come with all our baggage (and get help to fold it all away again). Barely surviving but turning up anyway.
This is another opportunity that I am over the moon about, a moon with a trans flag on (of course!).