Memory: Undocumented Grief

In honor of May Day, this is dedicated to all the people working too hard, too long, and too far away from their families.

My aunt was an undocumented worker, a Honduran who had traveled months cutting through the wildness of the jungle with a machete, through the waves in barely floatable canoe, only to end-up working for minimum wage in a North Carolinian bacon plant. She spent more than 5 years there working 12 to 14 hours days before she began exhibiting back problems and carpetunnel. Despite her fear of deportation, she appealed to her boss for help. He told her healthcare was out of the question and transferred her to a different job in the plant.
She met my uncle, a truck driver from a small town, an alcoholic from an abusive family. He humiliated her in front of his family, isolated her from the immigrant community, married her in order to get her a green card. The family wasn’t terribly fond of her kind, but he needed someone, they would reason.

One day Maria came to visit. She had always been pleasant, but it was the first time I had ever seen her with her eyes lit up. She told us her and my uncle had been trying to have a child. She was pregnant.

The silence in the room betrayed our reservations about her joy. Everyone congratulated her. Tension filled the room as she told the family the names she was thinking of—Jose, Rafael, Carlos,. “Why not something more biblical?” They nudged her towards more anglicized names. Afterall, why mark the poor kid?

Maria woke in the middle of the night with severe back pains and had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctors gave her an ultimatum: she would either have to be bedridden for the remaining 8 months of her pregnancy or have an abortion. Maybe she was catholic. Maybe her husband wanted an ere. I didn’t understand her decision.

What I didn’t know was that even though Yentsee had been an American citizen for five years by virtue of marriage, she couldn’t bring her daughter to come live with her. She had left Isabella a toddler in her parent’s care when she set off to make her way into America. “You don’t understand how dangerous it was. How dangerous it still is.” Is the only clip I remember from the conversation I didn’t know how to have.

She couldn’t explain how she had met the working-class southern boy she had married. She couldn’t risk going back and being found out. She was stuck in one country with her daughter in another. They were worlds away without enough of a paper trail to fill the gap.

Submission Call for Trans stories

I was looking at binders yesterday and ran across a submissions call that I thought I should promote. One of these days I will actually write down my pensive ponderings instead of just posting things I've run across. Maybe soon.

Share your story!

Hey guys,

I am in the process of starting to write a book in which transgender people share their experiences.

So, if you are willing to share, I would love to hear your personal stories. You can choose to write about whatever you want....

- your life story
- how you felt growing up
- how you identify....FTM? trans? gender queer? none of the above?
- your transition experience
- the world through the eyes of a trans person
- your coming out story
- the trans community and what it means to you
- poetry
- or any other topic that you can apply your personal experience to!

These stories will be compiled into an ebook format. Those of you who contribute to the project will receive a free copy.

I hope that in compiling this book I can provide a resource for people who are questioning or coming to terms with what it means to be "trans." Many times, realizing that there are others out there who feel the same is a huge relief and confidence builder. While there are many personal pages on the web, there are few resources that provide a collection of stories in one place. It is my hope that I can provide that with this book.

Thank you all for reading, and I hope to hear your stories!


Where to send your stories:

You may either send them as a message on myspace, or email them to STEALTH_Binders@myway.com. Make sure to include the word "story" in the subject line.

What to include:

- Your name (this can be your real name or you can make one up if you prefer)
- Age
- email address (necessary for me to send you a copy of the completed book)

optional:
- photo of yourself or something significant to your story (please no other people without their permission)
- location (where you live or where your story took place)

If you send us your story we will happily send you a free copy of the completed eBook!