People being angry about ~dem gays~ on Target’s Facebook.
I just want to give my two cents on this and tell you a story.
A couple weeks ago, I was hired at Target. I have a job at Target. Not a big deal right?
It is a big deal because i’m a transman.
It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that it’s hard for me, my brothers, and sisters to get a job. There are legal restraints regarding the job and if you don’t pass, it’s hard to be taken seriously at a job interview.
Right on the application, it asks what your preferred name is. It also asks if there is anything that target should know. I put the fact that I am a transman, expecting not to get a call because usually when you put that down, people will throw out the application. I got TWO interviews.
At the interview, they asked me about it. I told them I am on hormones and they told me that they didn’t care. Not in the sense that they don’t emotionally care, but that it didn’t matter. I was male and that’s all that mattered. They also told me that they give sex same couples benefits in states that do not recognize them as a married couple.
At my job orientation, I was not misgendered once. Even my supervisors who weren’t sure of my gender avoided pronoun use, which I found only happens when you’ve had pronoun training. They gave me a name tag with my preferred name and didn’t ask questions. I felt safe and respected, which is huge for a trans* person.
TLDR: Target is amazing not just for the LGB, but also the T. Shop there for the rest of your life.
Actually, it was the first time that I had been to the friggin’ Stonewall. The Stonewall wasn’t a bar for drag queens. Everybody keeps saying it was. The drag queen spot was the Washington Square Bar, at Third Street and Broadway. This is where I get into arguments with people. They say, “Oh, no, it was a drag queen bar, it was a black bar.” No, Washington Square Bar was the drag queen bar.
If you were a drag queen, you could get into the Stonewall if they knew you. And only a certain number of drag queens were allowed into the Stonewall at that time. I wasn’t in full drag that night anyway. I was dressed very pleasantly. When I dressed up, I always tried to pretend that I was a white woman. I always like to say that, but really I’m Puerto Rican and Venezuelan.
I don’t know if it was the customers or if it was the police, but that night everything just clicked. Everybody was like, “Why the fuck are we doing all this for? Why should be chastised? Why do we have to pay the Mafia all this kind of money to drink in a lousy fuckin’ bar? And still be harassed by the police?” It didn’t make any sense. The people at them bars, especially at the Stonewall, were involved in other movements. And everybody was like, “We got to do our thing. We’re gonna go for it!”
Suddenly, the nickels, dimes, pennies, and quarters started flying. I threw quarters, and pennies, and whatnot. “You already got the payoff, and here’s some more!”
Sylvia Rivera, Making Gay History: The Half-Century Fight for Lesbian and Gay Equal Rights, 2002 (via mochente)
“Applied. adj. Put in practice; used practically: applied science.”
…the book nearest me was a dictionary… uh.
“Qu’est-ce que je fais?”
OMFG (it means “What do I do?”)
The angry slaves were not working.
“it’s some weird computerized wiring glitch”
at the approach of a mouth
(my sex life is just blow jobs? did I turn to prostitution at long last? Am I official team whore now?)
“At least it was progress.”