Encounter and Conviction-- Bishop Shaw on Michelle Kosilek

About a month ago, Bishop Tom Shaw of the Episcopal Diocese of Masachusetts wrote a blog post about a recent encounter at the gym.  I just came across it this evening, and was moved to post it here.  The post reflects on the case of Michelle Kosilek, a transgender woman who was convicted of murder in the 1990s and has recently been in the news because of a judge's decision that the state should cover the cost of her medical transition.  As I remarked in the comment I added to Bishop Shaw's post, seeing the steady stream of stories in the paper about Kosilek, and the predictable backlash against her was pretty demoralizing.  A December Boston Globe op ed put it this way: 

“For the judicial system, the case [for MA paying for Kosilek’s surgery] is a no brainer.  For just about everyone else the case can be confusing at a minimum, and downright infuriating at its worst. And some of those most disturbed by the case are often those who, like Kosilek, identify as transgender.”   I have heard people in the community wonder how someone who committed murder could potentially have her medical transition paid for while most law abiding trans people have to pay thousands of dollars out of pocket—if they can manage to save up and/or get a loan.

Kosilek may be far from sympathetic, but at the end of the day, I agree with Judge Wolf’s decision.  It is an issue of fairness, of respecting her human dignity-- even if she did not respect that of the wife she murdered years ago.  For the state to make an exception in its commitment to medical coverage for those in its prison system would be, as Jennifer Levi put it, “transgender exceptionalism.”

Bishop Shaw agreed.  But what particularly moves me about his piece is its prayerful reflection on encounter-- how we do and do not engage one another, and how God continually calls us into this process:  

Back at the gym.  This time the conversation was about a transgender person.  My trainer asked me what I thought about the recent controversy over the ruling of the federal court judge who ordered the Massachusetts Department of Correction to pay for the reassignment surgery of a prisoner, Michelle Kosilek, who had previously been known as Robert.  (The ruling has since been put on hold pending an appeal.)  I said that it was my understanding that the prisoner had a gender identity disorder and that it seemed appropriate, as she is a ward of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, that the Department of Correction should provide the remedy of surgery.  I personally agreed with the judge.

This is a small gym, so everyone hears every conversation.  Before my trainer could respond, another trainer offered his opinion, which was very different from mine.  My trainer didn’t agree with me either.  Back and forth we went.  It got pretty heated and, of course, no one’s mind was changed.  These are not unkind men.  I couldn’t just dismiss them.  They are my friends and I’ve known them for years. 

The conversation stayed with me for days.  It even became part of my prayer.  Mostly I was mad at myself.  I wished I had been more articulate.  You probably know how it is after a conversation like that.  I kept saying to myself:  “If only I had said this, then they would understand… .”  The more I went over it, though, I got the clear sense that God was shifting my focus from this unconvincing conversation to the deeper place of my own conviction.  God was asking me how I had come to the place where I could be open to securing the rights of a transgender person.

I knew immediately.  It was several years ago in a workshop on transgender issues.  I didn’t really want to be there but a friend had asked me to go.  Intellectually I think I understood why someone should have the right to change their sex, but I was pretty uncomfortable with the whole idea.  Then a transgender woman stood up and told her story.  She was a minister and she spoke of how she had suffered in making her decision and how she had sacrificed her career, friendships and family relationships.  She told of how alone and helpless she often felt because of the discrimination she experienced, and of how hard it was for her to fulfill her vocation. 

“Wow,” I thought to myself as I listened to her poignant story, “all she wants is to practice her call from God.  She isn’t any different from me, from anyone who takes their call seriously.”  Something shifted inside of me, and the Spirit opened me to her dignity as a human being.  It’s almost always different when it’s a personal encounter like that, or when it’s someone you know.  Somehow their dignity is right there in front of you and it speaks to your dignity as a human being.

So ever since then it comes to me at odd times in my prayer:  Who else don’t I know?  Who are all the other people I’ve kept at a distance or let circumstances keep at a distance from me?  Who is God trying to put in front of me and open me to?

M. Thomas Shaw, SSJE

Halfway There

Bishop Marc Andrus congratulated Rev. Vicki Gray

Yesterday was an historic day, as theHouse of Bishops voted in favor of all three of the resolutions that take upgender identity and expression.

As yesterday’s blog post left off, we were on the edge ofour seats as the bishops began their afternoon session. 

At the conclusion of the morning session, Rev. StephanieSpellers, a priest from my diocese (though soon to be of the Diocese of LongIsland) and one of the chaplains to the Bishops, had preached on one of the textsassigned for the day: Romans 8:18-27. From the lectern at the front of the room, she read it out deliberately:

I consider that thesufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about tobe revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealingof the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of itsown will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creationitself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedomof the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has beengroaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but weourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while wewait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Nowhope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hopefor what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

She paused for several seconds before continuing:

Likewise the Spirithelps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but thatvery Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches theheart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes forthe saints according to the will of God.

She went on to talk about our groaning as a church.  We should not mistake this groaningsimply for suffering, though it does indeed signal pain. Yet it signalssomething much larger: rebirth.  We should not losehope in the midst of our process, our transition, our rebirth.  As I tweeted:

#GC77 StephanieSpellers 'this groaning that you hear' is church being reborn. 'You would notbe sitting here now unless u believed it.'

We would not have been sitting there, would not still beworking here now, unless we believed it.

And, again:

#GC77 StephanieSpellers: 'we are walking together in the space between.'#TransEpiscopal 

Walking together in the space between—she could not havespoken more directly to my experience as a transperson had she beentrying.  And yet the beauty ofthese words were that they spoke bothto my experience and to that of thechurch in its liminal, in-between location right now.  That’s a connection I tried to name in the panel after Integrity’sshowing of Out of the Box severaldays ago—as a trans person I feel like the place in which the church standspoised, forging its way forward into uncharted terrain, is familiarterritory.  It was so powerful tohear it from my friend Stephanie, and to hear it shared with the bishops I knowshe is so honored to support.

What amazing, nourishing preaching we have heard these lastseveral days.  Truly food for thejourney, for all of us.

So, after posting the “Edge of Our Seats” blog entry, I headedto the House of Bishops and took a seat in the gallery.  It took about a half hour for D002 tocome up.  The text is the same asthe 2009 resolution (C061).  I had told my spouse and a friend I would text them as soonas debate began so they could watch comments on the GC#77 Twitter feed.  So at 3:35pm when Bishop Mary GrayReeves of the Ministry Committee presented D002 with a recommendation ofpassage, I texted a single word: “Now!!”

At 3:36 I then tweeted:  

#GC77 D002 Bp Douglasspeaking re: transgender res

At 3:38:

#GC77 Gene Robinsonspeaking in favor of D002 Trans nondiscrimination res

At 3:39:

#GC77 Mark Andrusspeaking in favor of D002

At 3:41:

#GC77 Chet Talton ofSan Joaquin speaking in favor of D002, referencing ordination of a transwomanthat he recently did

At 3:43:

#GC77 Bishop Love ofAlbany wants to know what 'gender expression' means. PB responds, how gender isexpressed in world. Thank you PB!

And again at 3:43:

#GC77 Texas seeks toend debate

And then:

#GC77 it passed!!!D002

I turned around in my seat and locked eyes with myTransEpiscopal colleagues seated behind me.  Big smiles and weepy eyes.

Several things struck me right off the bat.  First, that those in favor of theresolution were clearly ready to speak. Bishop Ian Douglas referenced the hard educating work he engaged inthree years ago on the World Mission committee, to which C061 was sent lasttime.  He explained what genderidentity and expression meant, and how his daughter’s generation seemed morefamiliar and comfortable with transgender people than perhaps people of oldergenerations knew.  Bishop Robinsonreiterated the strong support for the trans community that I have heard himshare in numerous venues recently. Bishop Andrus spoke of how his diocese has ordained a transwoman to thediaconate who is passionate in her work for peace and justice (Vicki Gray, whohas posted in this space before and is here as an alternate Deputy from DioCal).  Bishop Chet Talton shared how hisdiocese has recently ordained a highly qualified Deacon (Carolyn Woodall, whois also here at GC, volunteering with IntegrityUSA) and how he sees othertransgender people in congregations around the diocese of San Joaquin.  When Bishop Love of Albany spoke, I wasstruck that he asked the same question I recall him asking three years ago,namely what “gender expression” is. There seemed to be some concern that it might be code for sexual activity.  After Bishop Love’s question, the PresidingBishop asked if someone would like to respond.  A long pause ensued. Just as I started to worry that no one would respond, the PresidingBishop herself leaned forward into the mike and explained that genderexpression is simply how your gender is expressed in the world.  I was so grateful that Bishop KatharineJefferts Schori was willing to offer that simple, straightforwarddefinition.  Right afterward, thebishop of Texas called the question and the vote was taken.

Discussion had taken eight minutes, and D002 passed on avoice vote by a large margin—I would put it at 3/4 or perhaps 2/3 in favor.

The D019 debate then followed directly.  Once more, starting at 3:45pm Itweeted:

#GC77 now onto D019.Beckwith speaking of his experience in All Saints Worcester. Bishop Shawspeaking in favor

At 3:46:

#GC77 South Carolinaspeaking against D019. Referencing 'gender expression', says Wikipedia definedgender expression as all over the map

At 3:49:

#GC77 Rochester,Bishop Singh, speaking of experience of living in liminal space; opportunity toengage liminal embodiment as a church

Again, at 3:49:

#GC77 Gene Robinsonspeaking in support if D019; addressing 'gender expression'

At 3:50:

#GC77 Lawrence ofSouth Carolina speaking against

At 3:52:

#GC77 Bishop Andrus'when we have confusion about a group' that is precisely a reason to protectthem

And then at 3:53:

#GC77 bishops passD019!!

Once again, debate and passage had taken eight minutes.

What immediately struck me was how there was more resistanceto this resolution about access of the laity to the life of the church thanthere had been to the resolution about access to the ordination process.  Perhaps that is because there is lessopportunity to regulate the laity, as a colleague here pointed out—people inthe ordination process have to pass through many steps (including psychologicaltesting).  My own sense, however,is that the conversation about D019 was a continuation of the earlier one onD002.  Bishop Lawrence of SouthCarolina, for instance, continued to push on the question about “genderexpression.”  And I didn’t tweetit, but here again the Presiding Bishop intervened when Bishop Lawrence made astatement about gender expression relating to same sex relationships andsexuality more broadly.  “we aren’ttalking about relationships at all,” she said.  “We’re talking about individuals here.” 

Bishop Gene Robinson with TransEpiscopal
members after HoB vote

My bishop, Tom Shaw, spoke in favor, referencing the way inwhich we in the Diocese of Massachusetts have been able to reach out to thetrans community and advocate in favor of transgender nondiscriminationlegislation at the state level.  Itmeant so much to hear him say that, as I’ve been walking with him in this workfor a number of years now.

Bishop Beckwith of Newark spoke of his experience as arector at All Saints in Worcester, in the Diocese of Western Massachusetts,where the transition of a transman was moving not only for him but for thecongregation as a whole.  I knowthe folks to whom he was referring, and I was moved to hear this witness.

Bishop Singh of the Diocese of Rochester made a strongconnection between trans embodiment and his experience of liminality—of beingperceived as an American in India and an Indian in America—of beingbi-cultural.  He asked us toconsider how the church’s own multiple identities, its threshold identity,could be deepened through our conversation about trans embodiment.  This comment spoke so directly to themesclose to my heart, my ministry and teaching, that I was essentially sittingthere in an excited vibrational state.  That this conversation could point toward the deeptheological significance of this vote, and this conversation, not simply fortrans people but for the church more braodly, left me truly excited and full ofhope.

When the vote was taken, once more it passed by asignificant majority.

TransEpiscopal members and our allies gathered outside thegallery after the House went into recess and gave each other huge hugs.  This was a major step.

As we stood in the hallways, we learned that D022, the resolution calling for a Churchwide Response to Bullying, had passed the House of Bishops.  I was surprised that it had come up so quickly, since the hearings had been a day apart. But there it was, another major step forward.

Now we wait for the House of Deputies to take up all three resolutions.  It could happen latetoday, but most likely tomorrow (July 9). We are halfway there.

CP

Celebrating Victory, Pursuing Truth

Speeches in the Senate Reading Room

By the Rev. Dr. Cameron Partridge
cross-posted at Walking with Integrity

On this bright January morning, as the hour of 11am neared, I emerged from Boston’s Park Street T stop, turned left and began walking up the hill toward the State House.  Today (or rather, at this late hour, yesterday) marked the ceremonial signing of the Transgender Equality bill here in Massachusetts.  This legislation, first filed in 2007, passed on November 15^th, and officially signed on November 23^rd, adds gender identity and expression to the state’s existing hate crimes law and the nondiscrimination statutes in the areas of housing, employment, education and credit. In a fitting twist, the week of its official passage was also Transgender Awareness Week, a time of educational and community events leading up to the eleventh annual observance of Trans Day of Remembrance on November 20th. 

The Senate Reading Room, where today’s signing took place, was packed with observers, a joyful crowd savoring the celebration.  Lawmakers were clearly also buoyed, as their inspiring comments demonstrated.  “You have no idea how beautiful you are as you stand here beaming,” said state Auditor Suzanne Bump.  “Remember that you are powerful,” offered Senator Brian Downing, followed by fellow Senator Sonia Chang Diaz: “it's days like this that remind us why we ran for office... Thank you for reminding us [legislators] of our own power, in addition to showing us your power.”  Representative Byron Rushing, who joined Representative Carl Sciortino in co-sponsoring the bill from its very first days, declared, “this hasn't just been a discussion of gender identity but of the identity of Massachusetts, and hopefully it will become a discussion of our national identity.” 

Representative Rushing, photo from masstpc.org

In his Episcopal Church context, as a longtime member of the Diocese of Massachusetts’ deputation to General Convention– Deputy Rushing inspires us to  pose that question of church identity.  Faith communities can ask, and indeed are asking, what do we stand for as people of our respective traditions?  In the Episcopal Church we might well ask—and have asked at the 2009 General Convention and various diocesan conventions before it– what does it mean to declare in our baptismal covenant that we strive for justice and respect the dignity of every human being? In 2009 the Convention passed resolutions putting The Episcopal Church on record in support of transgender equality in the civic sphere (D012 and C048), and pledging within our ecclesial life to make administrative forms accessible to gender identities beyond male and female and to protect transgender lay employees from discrimination (D090 and D032, respectively).   As our collective conversation continues, we might allow the varied lives of transgender as well as intersex people – communities and individuals whose lives are textured not simply by complex embodiments of gender but also by race, class, sexuality and ability-- to deepen our understanding of the human person.  How do we interpret and live out the mystery of being created in the image and likeness of God?

At the signing this morning, I was reminded of a startling moment in the November 15 debate that I watched on my laptop. Representative Sciortino was speaking movingly in support of the legislation when he began to describe the Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR) held at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul the year before.  He made a point of detailing the apology that my bishop, the Right Rev. M. Thomas Shaw, had offered on behalf of Christians who had condemned trans people and in the process had “misrepresented God to” us.  The apology had been stunning enough in its own right, but to hear it reported, in some sense repeated, on the floor of the House of Representatives, was positively astounding.  As I sat there dumbfounded—actually, calling out to my partner to come see this!--  receiving these words afresh in an unimagined context, I was reminded of a strangely parallel moment at General Convention three years earlier.  The Convention had managed to pass D012, the Trans Civil Rights Resolution, on the same day that the Massachusetts Judiciary Committee was holding a hearing on its own Trans Equality legislation—an earlier version of what has now finally passed.  As a team of trans people and allies worked toward the resolution’s passage in Anaheim, a fellow Episcopalian in Massachusetts learned about it (on his laptop, while waiting to testify in the stultifying heat) and shared it in the course of his testimony three thousand miles away.  The Episcopal Church supports this bill, he was proud to be able to say.  It all came full circle.

Also on my mind today were the words (viewable here as blurry video), offered by Bishop Shaw at this year’s TDOR.   Speaking at the end of the program, he welcomed us to the Cathedral and then offered a word of gratitude that felt almost like a meditation: “because of your honesty, because of your integrity, because of the way you so pursue the truth of your identity, you tell me about the nature of God, because that is how I think God is.  And so I thank all of you not only for the way that you enlighten my understanding of God but how much you preach to the rest of the world about courage, and about bravery, and about truth and about perseverance of identity.  We owe all of you a huge debt of gratitude.  Thank you.” 

I got the sense people were both honored and stunned by his words, working to digest and contemplate them— I know I was.   His comments about perseverance in pursuit of the truth of identity—language I had not heard him use before— reminded me of words from the Gospel of John that I first really took in at a middle school summer Bible camp: “you shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free” (Jn 8:32). 

From this chair, at the end of this day, looking out at the striking vista of falling snow, it strikes me how the process of knowing the truth and being freed by it is both lifelong and communal—by turns grueling and wondrous, and inextricably relational, even as it is distinctive to each person. 

Governor Deval Patrick signs the bill, photo from masstpc.org

An important truth about the MA trans equality law is that it is far from perfect: it does not include protections in public accommodations—access to public gender segregated spaces.  Everyone was resolved to come back and get that done.  And as I think about how far we have come, how much more free we are than we were just a few short months ago, I know that what we need more than anything else is the will, the support, the conviction to keep pursuing the truth.

CP

Chaz on Becoming

In a banner week in which the governor of Hawaii signed a workplace nondiscrimination bill into law, and in which the legislature in Nevada is debating a similar measure, the biggest transgender-related news is coming from Chaz Bono. That’s because the documentary about his transition, Becoming Chaz, premiered Tuesday night on the Oprah Winfrey Network, and Chaz has been everywhere this week promoting it.

The few reviews I’ve read have found their way into the film via people other than Chaz. His partner Jennifer has been a fascinating figure for some, and Cher has for others. I haven’t read any reflections on his siblings, but they would be bridge figures for still other viewers of the film like, say, my sister. It makes sense—if you’re not trans (and even if you are), you might have a hard time relating to Chaz, but you could more easily imagine yourself in the position of those who have a relationship with him.

But as a transman myself, Chaz was the one on which I knew I would be primarily focused. Because he’s the son of celebrities, having grown up under completely different circumstances than did I or anyone I know, I honestly wasn’t sure how well I would relate. More than that, I was concerned that because of its celebrity connections, this film had the potential to feed into the mass media’s sensationalistic appetites. Given all that, I was fascinated how little this film actually does falls into that trap, and how Chaz and Jenny come across as remarkably down to earth and authentic, very human amid a fair bit of drama. Chaz is very clearly and simply himself, take it or leave it. So too is Jennifer. The two of them have been through a lot both individually and as a couple, and they’re remarkably honest about that.

I was intrigued — and oddly relieved — to hear that there nevertheless were aspects of the film that stretched their own comfort zones when they saw it after the fact. In the interview with Rosie O’Donnell after the Oprah channel premier, Chaz talked about the difficulty at first of seeing an argument that unfolded over kitchen preparations for Jenny’s graduation party. But then as he watched it again, he came to see the argument as a real portrayal of where he and Jenny were at that moment. That comment to O’Donnell conveyed a revealing sense of perspective, a sense that Chaz knows he was in a different space then and will be in a still different one down the road. Comments like those suggest to me that he takes his “becoming” very seriously, and in a much broader and deeper sense than transition alone.

Chaz has been through some seriously choppy life waters, and while he doesn’t put it this way, his remarks about previous eras of his life suggest that he has had to make a practice of seeking perspective. He has had to make a practice of accepting himself for who he is. When he said at one point that he didn’t want to lose anyone because of his decision to transition but knew that he had to make the decision regardless, I thought, yeah, I know what you’re talking about. You don’t get to a place like that, you don’t arrive at such a crossroad, without having done a ton of work-- discernment.

I also appreciated how Chaz did not present himself as speaking for every transman, let alone every trans person. In one scene, as he spoke at what I believe was a Transgender Day of Remembrance event in West Hollywood, I was impressed with the way he got up and described himself as a newcomer to the community, not presuming to speak for others, and acknowledging that tons of organizing and community building had preceded his arrival on the scene, in many ways making that arrival possible.

That said, there were some assertions in the film with which I disagreed. The misleading graphic listing the side-effects of testosterone failed to distinguish those that affect transmen alone (e.g. the need to monitor liver function) from those that all nontrans men have to watch (e.g. cholesterol). I wasn't crazy about the film's repeated use of “breast removal” language; as a result, many reviewers are now using it in a way that can subtly reinforce the judgment that this surgery is merely a form of “amputation” (or, worse, “mutilation"). Simply sticking to the term “chest reconstruction” would have been more straight forward. Chaz also made a few universalizing comments about the relational effects of testosterone, saying things about his insights into male/female difference that reminded me of remarks I once heard on the infamous testosterone episode of This American Life. All I could think was, Stop! Don’t go there! Trans folks don’t know any more about what “really” differentiates the sexes, where “really” means “biologically,” than anyone else. What I think we do have a chance to see at particularly close range is how gender gets culturally organized, how intricately, concretely, differentially, intersectionally each of us is woven into an ever-shifting socio-cultural fabric.

There is so much more to say about this powerful film—more than I have time to write here. But the final thread I find myself pondering is that of narratives—with what stories we narrate our origins, the origins of our self-awareness, the origins of our decisions. Again and again, we were shown images of Chaz as a child on TV with Sonny and Cher, images that had the effect of asking the viewer to consider the narrative s/he supplied for that child. It makes me wonder, what narratives do we assume or project onto one another? How do we shift those narratives when our expectations are subverted? But that then raises the larger question, how do we narrate change without assuming the process moves in a straight line? There is something crucial about what it is to be human that is captured by Chaz’s process of becoming. Not only does it raise the question of how sexual difference fits into—indeed might change — one’s conception of the human person. It also asks us all, trans and non-trans, to consider how the process of becoming itself, how transformation, grounds and indeed defines our humanity.

CP