Tranny, Revisited by Auntie Kate

Background: There’s been a firestorm around the word “tranny,” which has been extended to “she-male,” and even to “gender outlaw.” I thought I’d covered all the bases on my stand on tranny five years ago, in this blog post:

http://katebornstein.typepad.com/kate_bornsteins_blog/2009/07/who-you-calling-a-tranny.html

But no, the controversy continues. I’ve been in treatment with chemotherapy and radiation therapy, both of which tend to dull the mind. By last night, I’d recovered enough of my mind to realize that there’s been no definition of tranny to fight over, so I thought I’d come up with one that I could fit into 140 characters. Here’s what I came up with and tweeted:

“How I define #tranny: ANYONE who messes around w gender w little or no care as to how tht might effect their standing in mainstream culture.”

To my way of thinking, a proper and productive response to a proffered definition is to agree with it, disagree and refine it, or disprove it. The majority of responses to my tweet were all about how the word tranny has effected people’s lives. One person, however, managed to refute my definition by saying:

“I fuck with gender. I am not a t*****.”

For this person, I’m clarifying my definition. What I didn’t spell out is that I understand “tranny” to be a radical, sex-positive gender identity. Tranny is to trans person as fag is to gay man and dyke is to lesbian. More to the point of agreeing or disagreeing with tranny as a gender identity for oneself: I’ve been saying since I wrote the book, Gender Outlaw 20 years ago, that the only person who can name our gender identities is ourselves. In my own life, I’ve rejected the gender identities of both man and woman—despite the fact that I managed to live up to many cultural definitions of both those identities. I pass as a woman, I’m called she by strangers. AND I reject the gender identity of woman. Accordingly, if someone fits my definition of tranny and rejects that identity, then I respect their rejection of the identity.

Now, since I’ve opened this wound, I’ve decided to address some of the main objections to the use of the word, tranny. In no particular order, these objections are:

    — Reclaiming a Hate Word Doesn't Work

Tranny is not a reclamation. Tranny has been our word for nearly half a century. Some trannies in Sydney, Australia came up with the term as an umbrella term to unite with love and as family the disparate communities transsexuals and drag queens. This makes it unlike words like nigger and slut. These, and other words invented by haters, have been reclaimed and are being reclaimed with great difficulty.

    — Using the Word Tranny Promotes Transphobic Violence

Policing words out of existence will not stop transphobic violence. At best, it might change the words used during that violence. 

    — When Kate Bornstein calls themself a tranny, 
        
it encourages and gives others the right to call all trans women trannies.

No, it doesn’t. Transphobes don’t look to me for permission or encouragement for anything. They may, and certainly have, used my words out of context to support their views. TO BE CLEAR: Nothing I've said here or anywhere else should be taken as permission to call another person tranny until you know that's a word they use for their own identity—some people find the word extremely hurtful. So, please err on the side of caution and compassion.

    — FTMs are not allowed to use the word for themselves.

FTMs are certainly included in my definition if they want to be. 

    — Tranny associates me with pornography & sex workers.

Association with sex and sex workers is often a means of denigrating people. Classist sex negativity is no reason for me to cease celebrating my sex positive identity.

    — Why all this fuss, just to protect an edgy word?

It’s more than an edgy word. Tranny is a valid, vibrant, and vital identity. Protecting that identity is what I’m making the fuss about.

In closing: that people are offended by what I call myself is simply not my problem. Transphobia is our communal problem, and I have stood and will stand shoulder to shoulder with anyone who’s fighting that hatred.

OK, done now. I’m going to get back to healing my body.

Auntie loves you. Have good sex and fun with gender. Kiss Kiss.

 

Guest Post by Barbara Carrellas: A Plea for Help for Kate Bornstein

Today is Monday, 5 May 2014. As of today, you have raised $22,181.00 to help Kate #StayAlive! Our goal is $75,000. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. xoxo

Hello friends and family,

This is Barbara, Kate Bornstein’s partner in life, love and art. I’m writing to ask—once again—for your help.

As many of you know, Kate’s lung cancer is back. It reappeared in late December in a lymph node behind her collarbone. The good news is that it did not travel far from it’s original site. Recent scans show it’s not in her brain or bones. The further good news is that it did not reappear anywhere that had been previously treated with radiation and chemotherapy. This means that the doctors can treat this new tumor aggressively and the treatment is likely to work. We have been assured that this cancer is still curable.

The bad news is that the treatment for this second round is way more intense than the last (and we thought that round was challenging!) This means that in addition to more intense chemo and radiation, she needs more supplements and alternative therapies to keep her fighting. She’s much weaker with this new treatment and needs to spend more on transportation to and from treatments. She has a hard time doing basic tasks, like preparing food for herself and the pets. Even getting dressed to go to chemo/radiation treatments is a challenge. Small tasks are not just physically, but also emotionally, overwhelming. This “brain fog” and the accompanying extreme energy drain are common, yet hideous side effects of the treatment. Worse yet, these effects will continue for months after treatment has stopped. This means we have no idea when she can return to work.

We are deeply grateful for your astoundingly generous donations of over $100,000 last year. It’s the support of her community—and we mean emotional, physical, and psychic support, as well as financial—that helps Kate #StayAlive. We still have a bit of that $100,000 left and we are stretching it as far as it can possibly go. (Let me take a moment to thank the people who are currently providing their services and products at reduced cost.) But Kate is going to run out of money very soon. 

In short, if Kate is going to #StayAlive, she needs the financial support of her community once again. Kate wants me to be sure to tell you how hard it is to ask for this kind of support. She knows many of you have financial challenges of your own. Please give only if and what you can afford. All of the money raised goes directly towards Kate's treatment.

Here’s the PayPal link to donate: http://bit.ly/1pkRV4K

Whether or not you can donate, you can help Kate #StayAlive by letting others know how they can help. Please forward/post/distribute this message widely. For inquiries and/or offers of help, write to KateStayAlive(at) gmail (dot) com.

And just so you know, Kate is truly appreciative of all the supportive tweets and other messages she's been receiving. Please understand that although it’s hard for her to respond to all of them, they mean the world to her.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Love,

Barbara Carrellas 

& Team Kate

Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Friends

I began this blog on Sunday, Feb 16. I wrote that it was a bleak winter’s day in the city. You couldn’t really walk the sidewalks, you more or less had to shuffle along without lifting your feet. Storm after storm after storm here in the city, and most of us had given up trying to clear the stairs and sidewalks… or our salt ran out. The dogs were thoroughly delighted to be indoors and warm. They’re paper trained, but I wouldn’t give either of them an A+. The cats grudgingly adapted to the constant indoor doggie presence. The cats are raptors, see, with all their senses fine-tuned toward food that either B or I might have left out. To the cats, the dogs are a stinky, annoying distraction to the hunt. (We found that out through our animal communicator.) For Bruce the turtle, it might as well have been a blue-sky spring afternoon. Inside his terrarium, it nearly always is. And Barbara and I had a really sweet Sunday together, back when I began to write this blog. Well, I finished and posted it today, Wednesday, Feb 19. My next chemo treatment is tomoro. The chemo is causing me big time discomfort but no pain and I’m not throwing up. My brain comes and goes. I’m grateful that there’s no more to the side effects than that. (Knock wood!)

Two more weeks of treatments after tomoro's, THEN B & I go to Iceland to celebrate our birthdays (mine: March 15th & Barbara’s: March 16th). We found an awesome package last year when I first found out that chemo round one had worked, and the cancer was, for the time being, gone. Here’s our Iceland package: we’ve got five nights & 6 days hotel, a pass to the Blue Lagoon, a boat trip if the northern lights are shining, AND we've found a stable where we can go to ride short, stubby Icelandic horses!! (I think my knees are going to drag along the ground.) The day after we’re back, I begin 5 more weeks of weekly chemo and daily (weekdays) radiation. Then some more chemo for the fuck of it. Then I'm done. Or done for. Ha!!

I owe YOU my life. Truth. So, thanks. Huh. Just writing that makes me want to stay alive even more. Funny, how that works. I'm diving back into Buddhism. It was my first really deep mind/spirit puzzler, back in college and in the 60s. Koans blew me away, and Zen slapstick tickled my funny bone in a most delightful way. Now, I'm more into Tibetan Buddhism, and I'm boning up on wisdom and compassion. This, along with my dialectic behavioral therapy skills, is keeping me remarkably stable during this time. I’ll blog more when I can articulate what exactly it might be that I’m learning.

OK, here’s what’s not been a joy about this time: I’ve had to cancel my entire winter/spring touring season, over a dozen engagements that I was SO looking forward to. I’m sorry to disappoint—do know that I’m disappointed as well. I’m asking for rain checks from all the schools who wanted me to come speak or perform. Now… if you’re looking for an awesome speaker or act to bring to your campus or event, please consider contacting my booking agent, Jean Caiani at SpeakOut – the Institute for Democratic Education & Culture. These are way cool, leftie folks who make space for more radical leftie, loving voices. I really enjoy working with SpeakOut, and I know you will too.

Sad to say, I’ve also had to cancel out on International Ms. Leather, where I was slated to be both a judge and the keynote speaker. Most sincere regrets to the leather ladies of all genders. I was SO looking forward to being there with you at the reboot of such a wonderful BDSM gathering. I’m grateful and pleased that my replacement is none other than my pal & co-editor of Gender Outlaws: the next generation— the gallant, wise, well-spoken, and sexy S. Bear Bergman. Wishing him and you all a terrific time of it.

In closing—wow—I’ve finished this—it’s a beautiful, bright sunny winter’s day in the city, and that brings me to the very last thing I wanted to tell you: in what mode has your Auntie decided to face this round of treatment. Well, darling, I’m going for perky. Yes indeedy! Move over, Mary Tyler Moore. (Miss Holly Hughes says I’m more than Moore, and she wants to be my Lou Grant! Oh, purr.) Yep, perky me—that’s how I’m looking at these days of mine: with a smile on my face, a song in my heart, and a dance in every footstep.

I love you, and I’ll be in touch again sooner or later.

kiss kiss

Auntie Kate

PS: In the spirit of perkiness, here are some signals I’d like to boost.

Art Saves Lives

I’m a firm believer in the notion that art saves lives. To that end, I wanna support some artists who are dear to me:

1) Photographer, and queer arts impresario, SD Holman has kick-started a project called “Butch: Not like the other girls.” The title alone should tell you why it’s a no-brainer that I’m backing this project.I was supposed to contribute some writing to this piece, but then my cancer took over my life’s priorities. Do check it out and contribute if you can, cuz its a jaw-dropper, a real yum-dinger.

Stand like wonder woman2) I know songwriter Steven Alvarado from Twitter. Recently, I put out a call for help in dealing with nameless fears. Steven tweeted me back saying, “Stand like Wonder Woman.” I tried it. It worked—I felt better! Now, Mr. Alvarado is in a pickle and needs help with his rent. If standing like Wonder Woman makes you feel better, please help Steven out with his rent.

Reading Books Saves Lives

I can’t read much when my brain’s all foggy, but here’s what’s on my reading cue just now. These are my spirit books. I’m reading and re-reading these books by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama:

1) Advice on Dying, and Living a Better Life
2) The Essence of the Heart Sutra
3) Practicing Wisdom

For my physical #stayalive regimens, I’m reading these:

1) all of Kris Carr’s books on Crazy, Sexy Cancer
2) Healing Spices, by Bharat B. Aggarwal, PhD, with Debora Yost
3) Life Over Cancer, by Keith Block & Andrew Weil MD

These are the fun books up on my cue, to read when I can’t write or just need to live inside someone else’s words besides my own:

1) The Rhapsody of Blood trilogy by Roz Kaveney
2) Redefining Realness, by Janet Mock
3) Changers, Book One, by T Cooper & Allison Glock-Cooper
4) The Reason I Jump, by Naoki Higashida & David Mitchell
5) The Sandman: Overture, by Neil Gaiman
6) Christian Science, by Mark Twain

 

The Cat Came Back

Hello, Dear Heart

My lung cancer is back—not in my lung, but in some lymph node. Here comes surgery, chemo, and radiation again. Now, kindly allow me to put this in a perspective and context that I promise is NOT scary. Really, I’m doing super well with this, and I’ve got a lot to tell you that I’m finding out, so please hang in here with me. Trust me, I’m The Auntie.

Right, history first: I was first diagnosed with lung cancer on September 24, 2012. I had surgery to remove the upper lobe of my right lung. The surgical team tried real hard, but they didn’t get it all. Normally, I would’ve gone straight on to chemo and radiation. But a big deal medical oncologist determined that there was no chemo that would work on me. If I wanted to live, he told me, it had to be by radiation alone. To be fair, the doctor was confronted by a challenge in me. I’ve got a whacky health status and, an immune system compromised by chronic lymphocytic leukemia that was first diagnosed in 1996. Plus, I’ve got a body grown on testosterone, that’s now running on estrogen. Genital conversion surgery aside, I’m minus a gall bladder, half a liver, and 12 inches of intestine. I’ve got cervical dystonia and scoliosis. I’m a rambling wreck! And, hello… I’m OLD! (Oh yes, I am. More on that later.) But y’know what the last straw was—the final thing about me that would bar me from all approved chemo regimens? Tinnitus. All my life, I’ve had a ringing in my ears. I didn’t learn until high school that I was the only one hearing all those mad bells and buzzers. I thought you heard them, too… all the time, like me. Well, tinnitus is a common side-effect of most chemo, and what it could do to me was make me deaf, and maybe even kill me. Like in Buffy or Haven, blood would leak out of my ears and I’d die, that’s what he implied anyway. Yes, honey, I do tend to exaggerate, but truly: it was the ringing in my ears when the big deal medical oncologist threw up his hands and, with a look of pity, handed me over to the radiologist.

My girlfriend and I did a lot a research—friends gave us terrific advice for alternative treatments. Through my touring work and book income, I’ve been able to pay for insurance that covered me fairly well for medicorp-government-approved procedures. But I had insufficient money to cover any forms of treatment outside the approved regimens—not to mention the cost of living while getting those treatments. That’s when my miracle happened. That’s when some friends came to my side. Thousands and thousands of friends and family came to my side. Maybe one was you—maybe you sent me money and/or you sent me love. One week of crowd-sourcing raised me over $100,000. Thousands of you. Thousands of people told me they love me. Can you imagine what a lasting blow that was to my low self-esteem?!

Well, the money raised covered it all. Thank you. Acting on the advice of Kris Carr, I found a clinic in Chicago where the doctors did their homework and found a chemo treatment that had just passed a stage two clinical trial. I began chemo on my birthday, March 15 2013, and I continued to travel to Chicago every three weeks through June. At the same time, I received 33 days of radiation, here in New York City. And it all worked. The cancer was gone, and it had been a year to the day since I was first diagnosed. Such relief and joy!! I had six amazing cancer-free months, during which I got back out on the road for some unforgettably wonderful engagements. What’s more, I’ve had the time and circumstances and good health to begin a novella—a book I’m writing just for the love of writing it. It’s delightful fiction that I’ve been wanting to write now for over a decade, but other books needed to come first. As of this past Christmas, I’d got through the first two chapters. Then, on December 30th, a PET CT revealed, and a fine-needle aspiration confirmed: yep, the lung cancer is back.

Darling, those were always the odds. That’s how cancer works. So now, I’m simply moving on with the next phase of living with cancer: more treatment. Treatment this time around begins with surgery at the end of January—then weekly chemo + daily radiation starting probably in the second week of February.
As to my touring schedule, I’m still working out my calendar with the doctors, but I’ve confirmed that I can do my week-long, six-city tour of Wisconsin, February 3-8. After that, I’ll do my very best to make all the gigs I’m already committed to. And for now, my booking calendar is closed for any new engagements before May or June. I hate to disappoint, and I thank you for your kind understanding.

Dear heart, please know I am dealing REALLY WELL with this. Of course I get scared, and I’ve named my fear as a realistic dread of the inevitably noxious side-effects of chemo and radiation. BUT… I’m not beating myself up for feeling scared, and I’m changing my perspective by reflecting on the delightful paradox: chemo and radiation are exactly what’s gonna let me live longer. Wanting to live longer is new for me. I’m not used to it. But I like it. Why do I wanna live longer? Well… for you. Truly. I so enjoy being your old auntie, and what’s an old auntie without her nieces and nephews?? So, fuck dread. And fuck cancer. I’m gonna write another non-fiction book about my life with cancer… I’ll get to that after I write my novella. See, now? I do plan to be around for awhile. That’ll get me two new books, and (lots) more time with you. I’m so looking forward to that. Thank you for your love.

Kiss kiss

Auntie Kate

 

Great News, Good Hope

Dear Twibe,

Here’s the bullet: The docs have scanned me, and the scan came back and
it says two wonderful things: 1) There are no new cancer cells in my
body and 2) The places where there was cancer have shrunk a LOT
already. So the chemo and the radiation, and the supplements and change
of diet are WORKING. Holy crap and yippee! It’s the best possible
post-chemo scan a person can get. AND I’m still not out of the woods.
Here’s what it means. It means I’ve got a good hope.

I’ve never been a big one for hope, but I always fall into it. There’s
dumb hopes, and greedy hopes, and impossible hopes, and tragic hopes.
But every now and then, you get a good hope, and with this scan, I just
got one.

The purpose of this scan is to determine a baseline picture of cancer
in my body, to match up against a more accurate PET scan that I’ll get
in 2 to 3 months. Why wait 2-3 months? I’m done with chemotherapy and
radiation, but they’re not done with me. The radiation and chemo are
going to keep working in my body for at least that long. And THAT means
I’m going to be chemo-brained, exhausted, and weak for that time. BUT
NOW I HAVE A GOOD HOPE!
A special thank you to everyone who contributed to my GoFundMe account.
 
You made this possible. Yes you did: you bought me my new diet, my trips
to Chicago, my nutritional supplements—in short, you kept me alive.
Thank you so very much. I've got good hope. 
I have such a good hope that I’m booking gigs. The earliest I’ve got
right now is a week in USA’s heartland in mid-September. If you’d like
to book me to speak or perform this fall, winter or spring, please
tweet me @katebornstein, or send me an email at my touring account,
katebornstein at earthlink dot net. Please be kind and only use this
address for touring questions.
OK—living with hope is new for me, so here I go. I promise I’ll keep
eating well, taking my supplements, and exercising as I can. It took an
awfully long time for me to write this, but when I get more of a brain
I’ll write some more, I promise that too. So, have good hope. I love
you.

Kate

 

 

Still Transitioning After All These Years

Dear Heart,

It's been just over three months since my robotic lung surgery. Doc
removed the top third of my right lung. Last Thursday, I got the
results of a new PET CT.

The good news is they got all the lung cancer tumor. There's no cancer
growing in my lungs. The not so good news is that a couple of cancer
cells found their way into my lymphatic system, and they're spreading
out from the site of the original tumor, more quickly than any of the
docs are happy with. I'll be meeting with radiologists and oncologists
and naturopaths and psychics this week, and then I'll know more about
my treatment options.

Ever since my diagnosis back in September and surgery in October, I've
had to examine the very real possibility of the great big goodbye.
Every time I've looked hard at it, I've come up with the same
conclusion: I'd rather stay alive. To this day, that's still the truth of it.

I'm not saying that what I'm going through now is the great big final
cattle chute to the grave, but I need to treat it like it is—if only
for rehearsal's sake. All my life, I've been curious about Death to the
point of establishing a pretty good relationship with Her Ladyship.
Now, it's time to establish that kind of a relationship with Life. My
pal, Caitlin Sullivan, came up with that equation.

If you've read any of my books, you probably ran across one of my
favorite Zen koans:

    The way you do anything is the way you do everything.

In other words, I can look at everything I do in my life through the
lens of "this is just a rehearsal for everything else I have to do in
life." I look at gender that way. There's a meta in gender that can be
applied to other cultural binaries like race, age, class, and
citizenship, among others. I wonder how much of what I've learned in
postmodern gender theory will apply to the binary of life & death.

Whether I'm dying now or later isn't what's important. That I'm in the
middle of yet another transition is what's important. And it doesn't matter
whether or not I initiated this transition. What matters is how
conscious I am, as this transition is moving forward.

So… my thoughts and life focus are switching gears. Again. And since
you read my stuff, I thought it safe enough to tell you what's going on
with my cancer, the same way I've been telling you what's going on with
my gender. More of my focus might be on the binary of life-and-death.
Fair?

I'm not giving up or giving in. I'm going to see to it to the best of
my ability that the cancer is gone. I'm going to do the best I can to
carry on with life. That said, I'm booking touring engagements for this
winter, spring, and summer. My landlord needs his rent, and I tend to
feel most alive when I'm engaged with scholars, activists, and artists.
So… please do book me if you can. Here's a copy of my new catalogue:
Download KB Tours 2013-14 I thought about using the tag line,
"Bring Kate to Your Campus Before She Dies,"
but I decided against it. Heh.
I CAN tell you that I'm seriously considering writing a mini-memoir
about this time of my life. I've already got the title: Be Careful What
You Wish For: confessions of a failed suicide. Great, huh? OK… that's
enough for now. I'll post more when I know more. Meantime, I've got a
FaceBook page! Come visit! And thanks so much for sticking with me. I'm
grateful for your company on this journey of mine. 

kiss kiss

Auntie Kate




Bad News and Wonderful News

Dear Readers and Friends, Family and Tribe,

I've got bad news and wonderful news.

The bad news is that I've been diagnosed with lung cancer.

The wonderful news is that the docs found it by accident, and the tumor (singular) is very very early in it's development. The cancer is deeply embedded in the upper lobe of my right lung. That means that all the doctors have to do is take out the upper lobe of my right lung (Your left lung has two lobes, your right lung has three. Did you know that? I didn't, not before this.) Assuming they're right, I won't be needing any chemo or radiation. They'll just take out the chunk of lung that has the tumor, along with the lymph nodes that are hooked up to my right lung, et voila! Healthy Auntie. And the funnest part of this news? The surgeon is gonna use ROBOTS to do the surgery!! How cool is that?

I've been through batteries of tests over the last couple of weeks. They show that my lungs are super strong, and my heart's in great shape. So, I've got a green light for surgery. The date is set for October 25th—with 3 to 5 days recovery in the hospital afterwards. Given that my immune system is already compromised by my CLL (chronic lymphatic leukemia), it'll most likely be the full five days, and I'll be out in time for Halloween! Then, it'll be another couple of weeks recovering at home, and I'll be up and around and back to pro wrestling. I've always wanted to give pro wrestling a try.

But wait, there's more good news! My girlfriend, Barbara Carrellas, has got me on an anti-cancer diet. I've cut out all meat, dairy, gluten, and sugar. Cancer LOVES sugar, and grows really fast on it. Did you know that? I didn't. But I'm eating good food now.

I still have other health issues going on—the stuff that the docs were trying to find out when they accidentally found my lung cancer. So this month is a great big see-the-doctors month for me. That's why I've had to cancel a couple of my speaking and performance gigs. Hopefully, I won't have to cancel any more.

I'm telling you all this because I've told you everything else about my life, and despite that, you've chosen to keep me company on this life path of mine. I'm so grateful for your company. I welcome your good wishes, prayers, candles, and any other good ju-ju you'd like to send. That'd be perfectly lovely, thank you. I'm sure I won't be able to answer everyone's tweets or comments, but know that I'll hold your wishes deep in my strong, healthy heart.

See you on the other side of this.

kiss kiss (don't worry — it's not catching)

Auntie Kate

15 Spaces of Cultural Regulation, and the Binaries They Pretend to Be

I've been working on a new version of my touring workshop. This one's called:

World Peace

through Gender Anarchy & Sex Positivity

I tried out early versions of the workshop at both the Queer Arts Festival in Vancouver, and at a recent tour at Hampshire College. I'll be honing and developing the piece over the next couple of seasons' touring. Here's one of the slides I'm using. I told folks at Hampshire that I'd post this online for their reference. I'm trying to contextualize the gender binary as one of many spaces of cultural regulation that more or less pass for binaries in the world. The workshop points toward building a coalition of the margins, with both sexuality & gender activists playing an equal role at the coalition table. This is nothing written in stone. It's just a theory, which means it could be a great big fat lie. But I don't think it is. Comments welcome.

xoxo

Auntie Kate

(click on the image to see full-size. feel free to copy & print.)

15 Spaces Comic

Thank you… who?


ThankyoucherubThe gender workbook update is written and laid out in a final draft—everything but the acknowledgements. Since this is a crowdsourced book, I've thanked YOU in the dedication—yep, it's dedicated to twibe. Now, I'm asking for your input one last time: who deserves thanks?

You helped teach me, so now I want to know who taught you, because I want to thank them properly too. Please leave a SHORT comment here, or better yet tweet me with names of people—they can be friends, professors, parents, siblings, novelists, pornographers, SciFi show, storytellers, mentors, alive, dead, or in some other state of existence we don't know about yet. Angels, saints, and demons count. So do friendly faeries, elves, hobbits and so on. Who helped you on your sex and gender journeys? 

Wow. It's all done except for this.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

So, please: let me know who I should be thanking for the awesomeness that is YOUR fabulous sexuality and gender. Clock is ticking. Deadline for thank you's is noon (EDT) tomoro, Saturday, July 7. If you tweet your answer, please use the hashtag #MNGW (My New Gender Workbook).

kiss kiss

Auntie Kate