Sage Smith Continues to be Missing, Possible New Lead?

Over the past few years I have written about Sage Smith, a young transgendered woman of color who disappeared in Charlottesville, Virginia



about two years ago when she was on her way to meet someone she met online from Minnesota who came to see her in Charlottesville. She disappeared that day and the investigation by police, which included interviewing the man from Minnesota as a person of interest, went nowhere and the man quickly left the area.

At that time another woman, Morgan Harrington, a Virginia Tech student who came to Charlottesville to see a concert was abducted, sexually assaulted and murdered. Eventually DNA evidence tied her to another case in Fairfax, Virginia where a woman was sexually assaulted and the assailant was tied to DNA evidence to the same perpetrator.

Recently, a U.Va. student, Hannah Graham,  was abducted and was last seen in the company of Jesse Matthew, a Charlottesville man whose DNA has been matched with the DNA in the Fairfax, Virginia case and the Morgan Harrington case.



I would note that Mr. Matthew has not been convicted of anything, but after he was named as a person of interest and asked to come to the Charlottesville Police Department, he invoked his right not to incriminate himself, asked for legal representation and promptly fled Charlottesville only to be apprehended in Galveston, Texas.

Mr. Matthew has been alleged to have raped two other women, one at Liberty University and one at Christopher Newport University when he attended both of those schools.

My question is, Why is not Matthew being considered a suspect in the disappearance of Sage Smith? While her body has never been found, thereby making it impossible to easily establish a DNA link, I question if the police are investigating other possible avenues of evidence that might link him to her disappearance.

I continue to pray and hope for justice for Sage Smith and the peace that resolution of her disappearance and fate will bring the people who know and love Sage deserve.

Making the Secular Spiritual: How Golf Improves My Spiritual Condition

Another lesson that I learned from Thomas Moore in the workshop he presented in May in Birmingham, Alabama is that one can benefit in a spiritual way by taking a secular activity and turning it into a spiritual practice. I have done that when I mow my mother’s and my property. This is no quick and easy task. It takes about six hours each week to complete on a riding mower and I sometimes drag my feet a bit getting going on it. I always find that after I get going on it that I do enjoy being out in the sun and the hot summer weather. I enjoy the time spent in a solitary activity and I enjoy viewing the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains to the west. It is a time for mediation (even above the loud drone of the mower). I use the time for extended periods of prayer when I first give thanks for all the blessings I have been given in my life. I pray for people I love and those with who I have strained or broken relationships. I pray for healing for others and I pray for forgiveness so that I bear no anger and I pray to be forgiven by others. I pray for guidance that I live my life as a Godly and Christian woman, as this is my own personal faith. I pray for those who are gone who I have loved in my life. I pray that they experience peace in God’s arms. Sometimes I pray all these things quietly and sometimes I pray loudly, knowing that with the loud noise of the mower, my prayers remain private between me and my God.

I love watching the birds and seeing the deer and woodchucks, the occasional coyote, and the activity on the one acre lake that we have. One thinks of a small body of water like that as a place of peacefulness. Nothing could be further from the truth! If you spend much time studying this pond you see life and death struggles between the different creatures and over the seasons you observe the annual cycle of life and death as well over the long term. With spring comes renewal, rebirth and the genesis of new life and with late Autumn and the onset of winter comes death and rest. It is a reflection of the seasons of our life, which helps us find peace and acceptance as we also experience these different phases of our life.

This is one secular activity that has taken on great spiritual meaning for me, but I also want to share how I have taken the secular game of golf and made it into an important spiritual activity of my life. Perhaps you may think that there is no way that some sport can become a spiritual discipline, but I hope my explanation will help you to see how golf, or even something that can be quite tedious such as hours of mowing which I just explained can become something that leads to spiritual growth and a wellspring of pleasure in a spiritual discipline.

When I was in college, I took a course in golf as one of my physical education activities. Other than Putt Putt (miniature golf), I had never played the game. Miniature golf was a dating activity as a teen ager and it was fun, but it was nothing more than a vehicle to spend some enjoyable time with my date. It was my mother who strongly encouraged me to take the course and I did it from the enjoyment I got from playing miniature golf on my dates. My Mama loves Golf. Daddy played with her sometimes, but she was the one who really loved golf and got me to play. The most important lesson Coach Myers at Bridgewater College taught us and the one I took to heart was that you have to go out and enjoy whatever skill (or lack of skill) you had on any given day. I certainly took that to heart and golf has always been a fun activity. Perhaps that attitude did not encourage me to try to improve, but I can truly say that I have had fun playing golf on every single occasion, I have always enjoyed being with the people that I play with and never worry about how well or how poorly I play, and for the most part during that time I played poorly because I did not play often enough to gain any level of consistency in my game. I just  liked being out in the sun and fresh air with the friends I would play with. Because of that attitude, I never got frustrated because I didn’t play well and looked forward to the next time. I never worried about how my lack of skill appeared to others as I have never had any ego bound up in my game.

During college I would play sometimes in the summer and once in a long while with Mama or with someone else, but I took no serious interest in the game. When I lived in Alabama when I was in graduate school, one of my classmates who became one of my closest friends at that time and I would play on the University of Alabama course. It was fun, but I did not continue to play when we went our separate ways after we graduated. I did play now and again after that, but with no regularity.

Then I began to experience some problems with degenerative spinal disc disease and eventually had to have spinal surgery. It took about two years to heal completely from that and then a friend from long ago with who I went to college asked me to play with her and I fell in love with the game. That was three years ago.

Now she is quite a good golfer and I admire her skills. She has won a few championships at her club and sits on the Board of the Virginia State Ladies Gold Association and this year is also on the Board of the Virginia Golf Association. That she has been gracious enough to play with me is something that I appreciated, but she has rekindled my interest in the game and it has grown into a passion of mine.

Because of the attitude that my college course instructor instilled in me as well as the enjoyment I have rediscovered thanks to her, I have found a passion for the game. I have preserved a noncompetitive attitude towards the others I play with. I only play against myself. It matters nothing if I beat my partner, which now happens often enough that it is not the norm, but not a rare event either. Nor does it matter if my partner beats me by a large number of strokes. I’m out there to have fun with who I am with, share conversations about our daily lives, our joys and our sorrows.

After attending Thomas Moore’s workshop and reading a book he had written that Patty found and gave me just before the workshop, I have turned my game into a 3 to 4 hour very real and profound spiritual practice. The name of the book is The Guru of Golf.  I was fortunate enough to be able to have him autograph my book at the workshop! He mentioned wryly when I told him how much I enjoyed it that that book was probably his least successful book, but I found much value in it and I found in reading it that he finds as much pleasure in the game as I do.

What I learned and have applied in making golf a spiritual discipline began way before I read his book was to go out and enjoy the game despite my lack of talent or skill. No matter how well or badly I have played it never has bothered me and I have always had a good time.

The lessons that I have learned, taken to heart and have been able to apply since Thomas Moore’s workshop is to look at my play as a series of spiritual lessons that are a reflection of what is occurring in my life around the time I play. Simply put, my game of golf each time I play is a spiritual lesson on what is reflected in my life by the way I play. So because of that I welcome the poorly played shot as well as the well- played shot. I never wish the particular shot, good or bad, to be anything other than that which it is. Of course I truly enjoy a well- played shot, but I do not get upset over a stroke that lands me in a poor position. It is an opportunity to learn how to make a recovery from a bad situation and it is a lesson to not allow unhappy circumstance to unduly influence me negatively and lead to further worsening circumstances. It teaches grace and tolerance to misfortune. It is an opportunity to celebrate being able to overcome adversity. An example came in a recent game on a par 3 hole, which is a very short hole and should be able to be accomplished in 4 shots by an average golfer. My first shot landed me out of the fairway behind a mound of dirt about 4 feet high. The green was elevated above that and it is a near impossible shot for a less than average player such as me. But because I did not become disappointed or upset by my errant first shot, with my pitching wedge, I made a nice shot that went over that mound in front of me and landed on the green. I was able to make the 3^rd stroke on the green for a par on that hole. The only reason I made that play was because of the way I thought about the situation as I played. The same is true of real life. Sometimes we do things that make our lives difficult. The difficulty is entirely of our own making. How will we handle that? Will we continue in a negative manner and make the situation worse or will we accept our mistake and take responsibility for the situation as it is and correct our mistake with right thinking and doing the next right thing? I could have allowed myself to become frustrated and feel irritable about my poor initial play and taken six strokes to make what should have been made in four strokes. Instead I chose to concentrate on making a good shot and found a positive outcome.

Another example comes when I am not relaxed and become frustrated. I may miss the ball completely and become frustrated and miss a few more times before I make myself stop, relax for a few sessions and return to making a slow and graceful swing in connecting my club with the ball and then get to watch it take off a long way up the fairway towards the hole on the green. The spiritual lesson for me in daily life is to not allow myself to become frustrated and make the same mistake over and over again in handling the same common situation by trying to force a shot. I’ve learned to not force situations that frustrate me. This is a lesson that I usually have a repeat lesson in at least once in each game. That is a good thing because that can happen frequently in life. I’m learning to handle such situations with more grace when they occur and I am learning to move past these frustrations more quickly than in the past. I don’t expect to do it perfectly every time, I only expect to get better in dealing with this kind of life circumstance.

The last spiritual lesson, I am learning of late is what I call “too much club” or “too little club”. When I play golf, I find when I am playing a hole, that I am now more consistent in my shots that get me to the green and I am now mostly in a position where it isn’t out of the question of making par on a consistent basis, though it isn’t happening because of my short game. I’ll be 35 yards or less from the green and using the 8 or 9 irons, or the pitching wedge, either using too much power and over shooting the green or not using enough and falling way short of my goal.  It can happen that way in my life too, using too much force in situations that I may find threatening in some way or not addressing situations by taking half measures that do not resolve the situation with which I am faced.

Golf will continue to provide me spiritual lessons. I will strive to learn through my game the spiritual lessons l need to learn to live a happier life and be more in tune with life as it unfolds for me. I’m glad to have learned how to use something as secular as a game of golf is to improve my spiritual condition and find more peace in my life never wishing it to be other than what life gives me.

It is not important what my score is on any given day, but by approaching the game from this perspective, my game has improved about 20 strokes over three years ago. So what is my average score? That isn’t important. I don’t even have a clue what my handicap might be. If it were two strokes better than three years ago I would be as happy with that as I am today. If I never get any better than how I play now, I will be just as happy as if I hadn’t gotten any better. What is important is the peace and the joy I experience when I play by myself or with a friend.

Spirituality: Creating a Religion of One’s Own

I was privileged, as I had mentioned earlier, to have attended a workshop in Birmingham, Alabama recently on the topic of spirituality and psychotherapy. I believe that the path of being transsexual is a profoundly spiritual journey. To the degree that one develops their spiritual life on this journey reflects the enhancement and sense of wellbeing we experience throughout the decision to transition, the transition itself and the quality of life we lead after we transition. Many people assume that once the transition is complete, you have arrived at your journey, but I, like many others recognize the journey continues and we are faced with many challenges. Many of these challenges are the same one faces whether they have been through the transsexual experience or not, but there are still unique situations that will come along. Having a well-developed sense of spirituality will help you to not only weather the storms of life, but will also enhance the pleasure one finds in everyday life as well.

In this article, I would like to begin to share the concepts that Dr. Moore believes will help someone to develop a deeper spiritual life. This is the first installment in a series.

1.     Deepen your formal religion

Many of us have a background of having been raised in a church, synagogue, or Islamic place of worship. It is something that is ingrained in our being and affects us in many profound ways, both positive and in negative ways, depending on the orientation of our faith and in the way a particular denomination of our faith teaches us about God and how we need to behave within our faith. I was fortunate enough to have attended a Southern Baptist church during my adolescence that taught love and tolerance for each other. Other people have experienced and learned that their denomination or church were very legalistic and were condemning, particularly if they were gay or transsexual. 

In my adult life, I experienced this with a United Methodist pastor. Her condemnation led me to leave that church and find a home in the Episcopal Church where I am welcome and made to feel part of the church family. Having found a place where I can formally worship is very important to my spiritual life, though over the years, I have been an episodic attendee. I may attend for a year or so at a time and then find myself not being very active in formal worship. Most recently, I stopped attending due to the death of my father a year and a half ago. I simply did not have the energy to go during that time, which coincided with my work transition. Yet I find that I do better all the way around when I attend on a regular basis. Formal worship keeps you from neglecting your spiritual life. 

The most profound spiritual experience I ever had was when I visited a church my friend Marsha attends in New Jersey. It was the first opportunity I had ever had to stand before my God and worship as I am with others who accepted me as I am. It was also the first time I had ever taken communion as I am and I remember tears running down my cheeks during the whole service. It was something that had been missing and  much needed in my life to move forward on my journey as Lauren. 

2.     Get to know one or more other faith traditions. 

The idea of becoming more familiar with other faith traditions is one that is not often encouraged. Some of us who are more spiritually advanced than I are familiar not only with their own faith, but have deeply explored other faiths as well. 

I have explored Taoism to a certain degree and have read several translations of the Tao Te Ching (Book of Changes), written by Lao Tzu. From that I have learned to be still and allow events to unfold, not wishing them to be anything other than what it is. It teaches acceptance and to live harmoniously with nature and in your culture. These lessons I do not practice faithfully, but having explored this avenue of spirituality has made a positive impact on me at various times of my life.

I have been interested in learning more about Islam. I think because of the acts of terrorists who falsely claim their actions are due to teachings of Islam, as well as the poor treatment of women by Middle Eastern cultures who practice Islam, many westerners have a decidedly negative view of that faith. My opinion is that each of the monotheistic religions has leaders and followers who claim to follow their faith. They pervert the message to use it to spread hatred and condemnation of those who do not adhere to their version of their faith. Knowing that my faith tradition has such people and knowing the truth of my faith, I have felt some sense of the need to learn more about Islam rather than to reject it out of hand without real examination. So perhaps this is another faith that I will learn more about to harvest what it holds that can aid me in my spiritual journey.

3.     Explore secular sources of spiritual insight

When Dr. Moore began to talk about this, it puzzled me about how to go about doing that. One of many ways to do this is through service work. Become involved in activities that serve others who are less fortunate. By doing so, it takes you out of your usual life of thinking of yourself and your needs and puts you in the position of giving to others and being with people who are in service to others. This is particularly true when engaging in a service activity that allows one to interact with the people who are benefitting from your service work directly. The examples that first come to mind are participating in programs like Meals on Wheels, Special Olympics or volunteering at a nursing home or to read to children at the library. Participating in Big Brothers or Big Sisters is another example of secular activities that will deepen your spiritual life and there are countless others.

Pink Essence: Why I Chose to Discontinue My Membership

I was a member of Pink Essence for a number of years and I recently decided to discontinue my membership as did Patty.

There were many benefits that I got from being a member and my decision to end my membership in this community ultimately has to do with a decision that Chloe Prince made to open up Pink Essence access to the World Wide Web.

I have known about this decision for quite a long time and at times worried about what the personal implications for my private life might be. Then again, I have this blog which would throw into question why I might be so concerned about my privacy. After all, I have given a great number of workshops around the eastern U.S. over the past 5 years and I have documented my transition here as well as on Pink Essence.

However, when I decided to write my own blog, I made the decision to be more public. When Ms. Prince made the decision to open Pink Essence up to the internet at large she made a decision that has the potential to harm many people who are not prepared to be potentially discovered by family or employers or by friends. It is a difficult path that we walk and for those who are not ready to deal with being outed at a time when they are just coming to terms with themselves, this is potentially disastrous. When  one considers that we have a rate of over 40% of us who attempt suicide at some point in our lives due to the heavy price we pay for attempting to come to a place of peace with ourselves and the associated losses of families, friends and careers, among other things, perhaps Pink Essence is no longer a safe haven for those who are just coming to terms with themselves.

In my situation, family did discover my presence on Pink Essence and it did recently cost me and Patty some relationships that we held dear. I don't fault Pink Essence for my own losses, but I think someone not as far down the path as I am and who has not worked as hard at self acceptance as I have may not be as emotionally prepared to pay the price that Patty and I just paid by not ending my membership when I first became aware of the new policy opening up Pink Essence to the World Wide Web.

The value of Pink Essence is mostly for new people who are coming to terms with their gender identity. They are also the most vulnerable people on Pink Essence. Having made the decision to open up Pink Essence to the World Wide Web puts the most vulnerable of us at risk.

Unfortunately, I have seen a huge turnover in membership. This is most likely because many of us who have transitioned and accomplished what we set out to accomplish (a successful transition), have no need for what Pink Essence offers. Other people who have successfully transitioned stick around to offer advice on what worked and what didn't on our journey to becoming whole.

I believe that opening up Pink Essence is a huge disadvantage to those who have transitioned and want to live a private life, even if they wish to contribute in a positive way to the lives of others who feel lost and are trying to figure out how to be happy and live a fulfilled life.

It is also a huge disadvantage for those who need a safe and private place to discuss the often painful issues that we face on our way to finding peace and happiness.

I only wish Chloe Prince well, as well as future success. I hope that those who join Pink Essence find what they need on their journey, but I also hope people will be aware of the risks associated with membership on Pink Essence and make a wise decision if the benefits of membership will outweigh the risks involved.

To read an article I wrote about the benefits of belonging to social websites such as Pink Essence that I wrote earlier, please follow this link:

http://twoworldstranstherapist.blogspot.com/2012/08/in-praise-of-pink-essence-and-social.html

Transsexual Spirituality (Connecting Body, Mind, Soul and Spirit)

If you are on the path of being a transsexual, it is vital for your holistic sense of wellbeing to recognize that this is necessarily a spiritual journey and to the degree you can develop your spiritual life as you travel this road, you will feel more balanced and have a greater sense of wellbeing as you face the inevitable adversities along the way. It will allow you to become more thankful and have more gratitude for the kindnesses, often unexpected that are extended to you along the way as well on your individual journey.

Developing a rich spiritual life will help you to keep from becoming bitter when those who are supposed to love you and care about you unconditionally, fail to fulfill the love and support you have expected from them. It allows you to forgive them so you can move on and extend them grace if they should come to you and ask for forgiveness so that you will be able to once again have a loving and mutually supportive relationship with them.

If the ones who have hurt you never do attempt to make amends, then you will be able to move forward by creating new supportive and loving relationships with others rather than react by withdrawing from others and becoming bitter, isolating yourself from other caring people in the future who will come into your life.

Last week I attended a two day workshop in Birmingham, Alabama given by Thomas Moore, who has written a number of books on living a spiritual life. His best known book is probably The Care of the Soul and his most recent book on which the workshop was about is entitled Creating a Religion of One's Own. He is a former monk and lived a monastic life for 14 years. He and I both share the belief that psychotherapy is a spiritual practice and that we care for the soul of the patient who chooses to engage in psychotherapy. We believe that the emotional pain that one experiences and leads one to seek help is a spiritual affliction. Dr. Moore's workshop was entitled "Creating a Religion of One's Own".

This workshop had nothing to do with the topic of being transsexual and did not touch on the subject in any way, but there are profound ideas that I found to be very relevant to our spiritual development.

In the next series of articles I will be writing about his concepts and how they can help you live a more spiritually fulfilling life on the journey of living with a transsexual identity. To begin this series, I will leave you with this idea....

"We do not create or choose our lives, but we are destined to follow our paths. It is not predestined. It is about our experiences and what they lead to and it is about the meaning we find in them" - Thomas Moore

Tuscaloosa (It Sounded Like a Train.....)

Today we arrived in Tuscaloosa. It is very difficult to express what this place means to me as it holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons. It is my spiritual home. I found myself here after being lost for quite a while. It gave me a path to my spiritual identity because what I chose as my career path is a spiritual journey. I have much to say about that, especially after having spent an evening and a morning with Thomas Moore, but I cannot write about this at this at particular time, because of recent events in my life in Virginia and due to the experiences I had upon my return to a place that I dearly love after about 5 or 6 years.

Some of you may recall that in 2011 that an F4 tornado laid a major portion of Tuscaloosa to waste. I had not had the opportunity to revisit here until today.

Patty was not feeling well at all. She and I have been through quite an ordeal this past week and she was not up to going to see the University of Alabama baseball game against Florida as we had planned, but she encouraged me to go anyway. It felt really good to be out in the sun, even though we lost the game 4-3.

When I got back, she was not feeling any better and I went to the pharmacy to get her some medicine and then went to eat dinner at Buffalo Phil's, a hot wings place that I went to when I went to school here.

Before I went to eat, though, I decided to see what happened to where I lived and also to visit where I had buried a very beloved cat named Timothy, who came with me from Virginia and was killed by a dog. Patty and I had talked about going there together, but I had also told her I was sure that that tornado demolished where I had lived. She and I have visited that place together in the past several times. She has been such a loving supportive wife when we have gone together, though this is not a part of my life she experienced personally.

I had been through a tornado personally when I lived in that upstairs apartment and was terrified when it hit the neighborhood before my apartment, skipped over us, and destroyed the next neighborhood on the other side of us in 1991. Trite as it may seem, yes, it does sound just like a train. The Drive By Truckers have a song about that. What people like me don't mention is, that in fact, it sounds like you are lying between the crossties and it passes right over on top you. That is not an exaggeration. It scares the living wits out of you and you will never forget it. You just can't. Even though you wish with everything you can that you could forget it and wonder why you made it through and others didn't.

Though that particular event happened in the dead of the night and I had the sense of foreboding that made me keep the radio on loud that night, and I browbeat my ex-wife to get out of the bed and under the kitchen table. Perhaps it saved our lives, but we won't know that because it skipped directly over us then. It was a very close call and this last time, that whole neighborhood is gone. Thank God I was not there.

I decided that I needed to do this this evening and as I expected, where I had lived was gone without a trace. I was overcome with a sense of grief and took a few moments to collect myself. Though I was prepared intellectually for this for a very long time, in the face of such a massive confrontation that what of my past was no longer there was heart breaking, especially in view of all else I have lost in the last week. I wish I could say I enjoyed my dinner, and on some superficial level I did. The profound sense of loss was overwhelming and it took a few minutes to pull it together and go have dinner. I wish I could say I enjoyed eating at Buffalo Phil’s, a chicken wing place, that evening, but that wouldn’t be truthful.I was just too upset and it was all I could do to keep from crying.

The next day, I took Patty with me to see the destruction and support me in the sense of loss that I felt. I felt waves of grief when I saw what had happened again and knowing that it was only by God's grace that this had not happened to me the night I was living in that apartment. She suggested that I take home a brick from what was left and a piece of wood that was lying there in the ruins. I found the brick lying on the spot where I had lived along with a piece of wood that was weathered and twisted. It means nothing to no one else but it is a symbol of my life there in that spot which does not exist there anymore.

Still, I am glad to be here and have found a reawakening of my spiritual progression after having been feeling like my spiritual life has been on a plateau since my father died a year ago this past Christmastide. I have so much more to write about this and look forward to conveying my experience in spending an evening and a morning with Thomas Moore in Birmingham.

Sweet Home Alabama

Here I am with Patty in Birmingham, Alabama. We left for vacation on Wednesday morning and had a really nice drive down. Alabama is probably my most favorite place to be and I really do miss living in Tuscaloosa, where I went to graduate school at the University of Alabama School of Social Work, even after all these years. I haven't been to Alabama in about 5 years, I think.

The occasion of this trip is mixing business with pleasure. I am here with Patty to attend a workshop given by Thomas Moore, who writes of all things spiritual and is giving a workshop on finding spirituality in a secular world. It is an occasion to continue my education for maintaining my licensure as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker as well as visiting well loved places and enjoying things that I miss.

We are in Birmingham until Saturday and then move on to Tuscaloosa. Today we dined at a restaurant in downtown Birmingham called the MIX and enjoyed that. Then we went to the Birmingham Museum of Art where we were treated to some very fine collections of ancient Chinese, Japanese and Korean art from the times of antiquity. They also have a wonderful collection of Wedgewood china and porcelain.

After that, we returned to the room to rest a bit and then went on to Bessemer for dinner at the Bright Star. Anyone who is travelling through the area and is looking for a fine dining experience with down home hospitality should make it a point to visit the Bright Star for dinner.

Their specialty is southern cuisine with a Greek spin to it. We enjoyed fried green tomatoes with shrimp and salsa and a hollandaise sauce, shrimp and crab gumbo for appetizers and I had red snapper prepared in a greek style, a greek salad, shrimp and crab au gratin and eggplant.

One of the owners came by to visit and I told him that it had been a much overdue visit since the last time we had been to the Bright Star, about 10 years and that we had made it a point to come on our vacation. He was so touched that after we were done with our meal and had paid our tab, our waiter asked us to wait because the owner had something for us. He said that the owner had said that our comments touched him and had made his evening! We were served with coconut cream pie and their special peanut butter pie. It's the small kindnesses such as this which makes me miss it here so much. What a wonderful way to end our day!

Tomorrow, we plan to go visit the 16th Street Baptist Church, which was bombed in 1963, killing three little African American girls during the darkest time of racial hatred against African Americans in our country. It is my intention to go and pray for them and for bigotry and hatred to be driven from our society in what ever form it may take. We have come a long way, but we have so far to go as it takes so many forms against so many people for too many reasons, none of which can be tolerated.

After, that I hope we can have time to visit the Birmingham Zoo as they have a wonderful elephant exhibit and are one of the leaders in helping to find ways of preserving wild elephants in their natural habitat. We also hope to have time to go see the statue of Vulcan, the Roman god of Fire, who symbolizes Birmingham's history of manufacturing iron and steel.

Saturday afternoon, after the second half of the workshop, we head on to Tuscaloosa, where we plan to see a University of Alabama baseball game.

On Monday, I have an interview with the Dean of the School of Social Work to explore the possibility to return to teach there.

Of course there are some favorite places to see and places to eat, especially the Waysider for breakfast, Buffalo Phils for Buffalo Wings, and then the other two dining highlights, Dreamland who have the best BBQ ribs anywhere and the Cyprus Inn overlooking the Black Warrior River.

It should be a delightful time for us both!

Disowned, the Story Continues, Oddly Enough

Surprisingly, I find that my Daughter in Law is apparently aspiring to become my cyber stalker. For someone who made it clear to Patty a little over 24 hours ago that she wants nothing more to do with us, she was on the phone again bright and early at 8 am this morning to continue to harass Patty over what I had published here less than 8 hours before that about her uninvited verbal attack on us.

She told Patty that what I had written was a "pack of lies", but Patty who then read my blog after the phone call found nothing I had written to be untrue.

If I were dead to her and did not exist as she informed Patty yesterday, one would think she would have better things to do with her time than obsess over anything I might write about.

Perhaps it has something to do with her failed attempt to turn Patty's daughter against us. She seemed to have a need to call her to tell her all about this but my stepdaughter's response was that if her mother and I were happy together then it was no concern of hers.
Considering how she attacked my stepdaughter's husband two years ago, calling her was a rather pathetic move on her part. Her behavior is becoming rather laughable! Quite a change for Patty and me in less than 24 hours.

I thank God my prayers to Him asking him to bind her from harming Patty and me have been answered! Once again, it has been proven in a powerful way that God always answers prayer.

Patty and I were discussing these developments this evening after I came home. We began thinking about what she would do if one of her children came to her and told her that they were transsexual. Given that no one asks to be transsexual because of the hatred and disgust people like my daughter in law harbor towards us, we wondered if she would tell them they too were vile, disgusting and perverted as she thinks about me and about Patty whose only transgression is to love me? For my grandchildren's sake, I pray this does not come to pass. It is sad to know that so many transsexual young people are thrown away by their families like garbage. She seems to be someone who is capable of being that way in my opinion.

It also gives me pause to worry that as a health care provider, would her bigoted and hateful attitudes translate into abusive or neglectful care of a transsexual patient if someone like me would be unfortunate enough to be placed under her care. It is highly likely she will encounter a number of patients like me before her career is over and she retires. I know I would be fearful to have someone with her attitudes responsible for my care.

It is both my and Patty's wishes that she do what she said she would do last night; leave us alone and stop bothering us. Enough said.

Disowned

In the span of a little over an hour, my life took another radical change again. At first, I thought it had taken a serious turn for the worse. It felt catastrophic and I wanted to vomit. Then I felt empty and could not put any words together. I wanted to die, but I had no urge to kill myself. I was not suicidal. I just wondered why my life goes on and why can’t it just be over. I had no answers for those questions, but that all turned around in a rather short period of time as you will see.

What happened was that shortly after I got home from work, my daughter in law called to tell Patty that they (she and my stepson) knew the truth about me and what a pervert I was. She went on to tell her that she was vile and disgusting and that as far as she was concerned that we were dead to them and she would tell our grandchildren that we do not exist. She also said that she would also call Patty’s other two children to inform them so that they would be sure to disown us as well. Poor Patty endured this venomous spew from this unlovely person and never returned an angry word.

Patty, of course, is devastated. We had agreed that I would not present myself to them as I truly am out of consideration for Patty’s feelings. It was a small sacrifice to me for someone I love, as we were pretty sure of this type of reaction as my daughter in law has been a very destructive force in the family dynamics on so many levels over the years. She has ensured that her husband is alienated from his brother and has created major problems in the family relationships with her husband’s sister’s husband, his brother in law, our son in law. Now, when we try to arrange a family get together, our son in law will not attend. Once in awhile, my step daughter attends and I have tried to avoid these occasions because I know my daughter in law doesn't want me around. Patty has sensed the same thing over the years. We are never asked to spend any time with our grandchildren except when my daughter in law is present. We have never been asked to babysit and have never spent any time with them unless she ensures she is present. This is true even if I weren't involved. My daughter in law has always excluded my wife from spending time alone with the grandchildren, unlike the access she has allowed her family.

It seems though in the aftermath of this, it has become a very freeing experience for me. It was a painful sort of rebirth of which I have experienced many such along my journey.

I am free of having to pretend that I feel accepted and a part of Patty’s family. I have almost always felt like an unwelcome outsider, particularly by my daughter in law over the years. That was going on way before my daughter in law’s discovery about me today. Now I will never see them or interact with them again. My daughter in law, once again has shown us her black heart.

However, the pain that my truth causes Patty once again, just by my truth of being me becoming known to others, is heartbreaking for me. I don’t know how I can ever make up to her that her choice to remain in a relationship with me cost her relationship with at least one and maybe all of her children. It may not be possible to do that at all.

In two days we leave to go on a vacation we have both been looking forward to a long time to a place we both enjoy when we visit. I’m not sure either one of us cares at this minute about that vacation any longer. Hopefully though, this will be an opportunity to become even closer through experiencing the unreasoning and ignorant hatred of my daughter in law. I hope we will just forget about this over the next week and focus on us having fun and relaxing together.

What is positive from this horrible experience is that I feel no need to retaliate in kind, though I have first hand knowledge of things my daughter in law has done that would jeopardize her professional career and reputation, due to the same destructive need to maliciously gossip about people.

Her treatment towards my wife shows her to be a low and common person, someone who enjoys inflicting pain on others and she lacks the courage of her convictions to say them to my face over the phone.

However, they failed to recreate the feelings of guilt and shame that are common to people who grow up knowing they are transsexual. This is a reflection of the hard work and growth that I have accomplished in self-acceptance.

My God requires that I forgive her and I have made a lot of progress this evening towards that goal.  In this sense, it is a purely selfish act. It is only for me and not meant to benefit her in any real way. It allows me to feel the full grace of peace and love that God has for me. I bind her from doing emotional harm, something she seems to crave the need to do to others, as evidenced by the many examples over the time I have known her. My most sincere wish is that she is also bound from harming Patty in the same way. I simply won’t think of her in the future.

What I Did For Football, What Football Did to Me

I want to be absolutely clear that the intent of this article is NOT to malign the sport of football, which one might infer from the title. To the contrary, I continue to enjoy watching football to this day and I believe that my prior participation in the game helped me to build the internal strength and courage to successfully face my gender identity issues and finally be able to live an authentic life, despite the consequences I endured from playing the game.

I was 12 years old when I stepped onto the field to play real football with the big boys. I would be entering the 7^th grade that fall, but the rest of the boys who came out for summer practice were mostly 16 and older and no one else was younger than 15. They were for the most part four to six years older than me. We called summer practice “Captain’s Practice” and it began the last week of June for four weeks. We were to get into shape to begin organized practice that began in the last week of July and went on until school started the first week of September and the season began the first Saturday in September.

The Junior Varsity team would not form up until the school started and played their first game in late September. I couldn’t afford to wait that long to begin playing football because I had something to prove. I had to prove it to everyone else but more importantly I had to try to prove a lie to myself about who I really was. In all truth, back then, I secretly wanted to one of the cheerleaders rather than be a football player, but I knew that could never be.

Why else would someone who was outweighed by anywhere from 40 to well over 100 pounds subject themselves to full contact football? The other question that came much later in life, was what kind of judgment were the adults who ran this particular program exercising to allow someone so much younger and so much smaller to engage at this level of competition with the high probability of injuries which were inevitable in this situation?

However, ultimately, the person who decided to do this was me. The more important question is why would I engage in such a foolish and dangerous activity? That is a question that can only to be answered by me. Simply put, it was because I had something to try to convince myself of that was not true. It was something that was not true to convince everyone else who had no idea what it was I was trying to prove, because I was unwilling to face my own truth.

As I’ve written about earlier, I knew I was not a boy and was really a girl, no matter what my biological reality was when I had the language to identify it. That was around age 6. I also knew the word for people like me at that time, but this, the summer of my twelfth year, was also the summer that I began to read the professional books about transsexuals and learn more specific information about myself. What I read terrified me because I was reading about my truth and my reality. These learned professionals were describing me in detail and they had no way of knowing me. Yet they were writing about me in such accurate detail that it was truly terrifying.  I in no way wanted to be one of those people who I was reading about. Yet I could not keep from going back over and over again to read everything there was about people like me. I had to know the truth even if I was a long way from being able to accept that truth and was very desperate to prove to myself and to those that I imagined could see who I truly was, that I was not like those people I read about.

Really, it was far easier to go out every day and endure the extreme physical punishment I experienced every time I played with the others than to face up to and accept the reality of who I was. The older boys seemed to relish every opportunity to hit me as hard as they could since they couldn’t deliver the same degree of physical punishment to boys their own age and size. The coaches seemed to also relish matching me up against the oldest and biggest team members as well. After all, isn’t that what someone like me deserved for being such an abomination? Perhaps I was hoping they would literally beat the transsexualism out of me. Looking back, I realize what a sad mindset that was for a young child.

It’s really no surprise that the first year playing with them that I broke my nose, had a very painful tailbone injury and in hindsight I recognize that I suffered at least three concussions of one degree or another. Eventually, I had to have cervical spinal surgery due to injuries sustained from helmet to helmet hits which were legal at the time. These are particularly dangerous on kickoffs and kickoff returns.

A culture of hazing existed as well, fostered by tradition and encouraged by the adults who ran our program. Instead of garnering respect for what I did, something that I had desperately hoped for, something that no one my age did until we were all 15 and then only two other classmates (in my third year of playing), participated in, I was the subject of physical, emotional and eventually on one isolated occasion the victim of sexual abuse. Because of the emotional abuse and that one incident of sexual abuse I became convinced that they knew my secret, but in hindsight, I know this not to be true. They were simply abusive and probably were acting out many things that had been perpetrated upon them coming up through the same system. The difference between me and them were that some of them were gifted athletes and I was not. They did not , however, to my present degree of knowledge, harbor a secret that caused them tremendous guilt and shame. I did.

What I was able to accomplish was accomplished through my sheer willpower and determination. I was the only one in my class to play football 6 seasons at my school. I was the only one to earn 4 varsity letters in football and three Junior Varsity letters. I was the only one to start offense and defense during my Sophomore, Junior and Senior seasons and I set two school records at the time in my Senior year for fumble recoveries in a game and in a season. Not being a skill player, I accomplished these things as an undersized offensive and defensive lineman. I accomplished this through having learned to take heavy physical punishment and doling out my own when the opportunity presented itself.  I earned my accomplishments through willpower and desire, not through any athletic talent because I am not talented athletically.

Over the years between that first year and my last season, I had probably suffered 4 or 5 more concussions. Nobody paid attention to that back then and hitting each other helmet to helmet was expected. I injured a shoulder, a knee, broke a finger, and one year experienced such severe staph infections all over my body that they nearly resulted in my hospitalization because I hid the extent of them until the season ended and I missed the next two weeks of school because I was too sick to attend after the season was over. Years later I required surgery to fuse my cervical spine as a consequence of way too many helmet to helmet hits, particularly on kickoffs and kickoff returns. That sort of dangerous contact was legal back then.

Really, it was far easier to go out every day and endure the extreme physical punishment I experienced every time I played with the others than to face up to and accept the reality of who I was. The older boys seemed to relish every opportunity to hit me as hard as they could since they couldn’t deliver the same degree of physical punishment to boys their own age and size. The coaches seemed to also relish matching me up against the oldest and biggest team members as well. After all, isn’t that what someone like me deserved for being such an abomination? Perhaps I was hoping they would literally beat the transsexualism out of me. Looking back, I realize what a sad mindset that was for a young child.

It’s really no surprise that the first year playing with them that I broke my nose, had a very painful tailbone injury and in hindsight I recognize that I suffered at least three concussions of one degree or another.

A culture of hazing existed as well, fostered by tradition and encouraged by the adults who ran our program. Instead of garnering respect for what I did, something that I had desperately hoped for, something that no one my age did until we were all 15 and then only two other classmates (in my third year of playing), participated in, I was the subject of physical, emotional and eventually on one isolated occasion the victim of sexual abuse. Because of the emotional abuse and that one incident of sexual abuse I became convinced that they knew my secret, but in hindsight, I know this not to be true. They were simply abusive and probably were acting out many things that had been perpetrated upon them coming up through the same system. The difference between me and them were that some of them were gifted athletes and I was not. They did not harbor a secret that caused them tremendous guilt and shame. I did.

What I was able to accomplish was accomplished through my sheer willpower and determination. I was the only one in my class to play football 6 seasons at my school. I was the only one to earn 4 varsity letters in football and three Junior Varsity letters. I was the only one to start offense and defense during my Sophomore, Junior and Senior seasons and I set two school records at the time in my Senior year for fumble recoveries in a game and in a season. Not being a skill player, I accomplished these things as an undersized offensive and defensive lineman. I accomplished this through having learned to take heavy physical punishment and doling out my own when the opportunity presented itself.  

Over the years between that first year and my last season, I had probably suffered 4 or 5 more concussions. Nobody paid attention to that back then and hitting each other helmet to helmet was expected. I injured a shoulder, a knee, broke a finger, and one year experienced such severe staph infections all over my body that they nearly resulted in my hospitalization because I hid the extent of them until the season ended and I missed the next two weeks of school because I was too sick to attend after the season was over.

Over these six years, I continued to read every professional book that came out on transsexualism. By the time I was in my last season of playing I had lost the enthusiasm for trying to hide by playing football. I didn’t show up for summer practice, preferring to work at my job at the hospital as a nursing aide. I questioned why I bothered playing at all at that point. I simply didn’t care. It was clear to me that I was not like the others

either at the most fundamental level. Football is a game for men and I was never a man. I was a woman. I just couldn’t accept that fact at that time, though I knew it to be true. The only reason I continued to play was to finish what I started. I knew I didn’t have the talent or physical size to play at the collegiate level, though I tried to convince myself otherwise and spoke with several Division III coaches of schools I was considering attending. None of them encouraged me.

Looking back, I am glad that I had the experience of playing football and enduring what I did. I learned to take beating after beating. Sometimes I wonder how I got back up each time after each one, but I know that learning to endure and survive that experience year after year gave me the internal strength and fortitude to be able to finally come to terms with myself and go through a gender transition. Not many people who grew up in the times that I did have been able to do that. Gender transition is probably one of the hardest human experiences one can undergo. Many of the things I learned about myself back then and the willingness to endure what I willingly endured gave me the strength to do what I had to do to live my life authentically. The tolerance to pain, both physical and emotional in nature gave me the courage and emotional resiliency to undergo my gender transition. I paid it forward. It was worth the price.

on my team. I could never be. It wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t really their fault

either at the most fundamental level. Football is a game for men and I was never a man. I was a woman. I just couldn’t accept that fact at that time, though I knew it to be true. The only reason I continued to play was to finish what I started. I knew I didn’t have the talent or physical size to play at the collegiate level, though I tried to convince myself otherwise and spoke with several Division III coaches of schools I was considering attending. None of them encouraged me. This time I decided to listen.

Looking back, I am glad that I had the experience of playing football and enduring what I did. I learned to take beating after beating. Sometimes I wonder how I got back up each time after each one, but I know that learning to endure and survive that experience year after year gave me the internal strength and fortitude to be able to finally come to terms with myself and go through a gender transition. Not many people who grew up in the times that I did have been able to do that. Gender transition is probably one of the hardest human experiences one can undergo. Many of the things I learned about myself back then and the willingness to endure what I willingly endured gave me the strength to do what I had to do to live my life authentically. The tolerance to pain, both physical and emotional in nature gave me the courage and emotional resiliency to undergo my gender transition. I paid it forward. It was worth the price.

Remembering Gianna Israel

Did you know Gianna Israel? She was one of the most remarkable women I've ever met. I met Gianna before she met me, reading her columns in Transgender Tapestry. What she was writing about us and our lives was better than anything else I was reading about overcoming our struggles and how to overcome them, keep the people we love in our lives and to be happier in our affirmed gender.

I sent her an email and to my surprise and joy, she answered back. This was in 1996. I never think that people who have accomplished so much will have time to spend on me. I'm always wrong about that. Happens every time. Now, in some ways that is a pretty sad comment on how I feel about myself at times, but on the other hand, imagine how happy I am when someone of her stature writes back to me and even better, we become friends! That's the part I mainly end up thinking about.

Gianna and I wrote back and forth, then we started calling each other on the phone from time to time. I'll always remember her wonderfully hilarious sense of humor; once she had been complaining to me about her little dog, a Yorkie, for a while. Her dog was lavishing her affections on her roommate and ignoring Gianna, much to her disgust. She used to refer to that dog as "that farm animal" and was always talking about getting rid of it and getting another dog. I about rolled on the floor laughing the first time she called her a farm animal, and after that I always had to get updates on the farm animal!

 One day she sent me a picture of the dog over the internet labeled "farm animal. jpg. When I opened it, there was this little dog sitting on the roasting pan in the oven surrounded by potatoes, onions and carrots looking at the camera with her little bright eyes and a doggie smile on her face! I just about died laughing and still laugh when I think about it today.
Another time I had been complaining about how long it took to shave my legs and body. She said she had something that really helped her speed up the process and sent me this picture of a disposable razor with three heads! She was just about the funniest woman I ever met.

As our friendship grew, we would call each other once or twice a month between our emails and I would call upon her to consult with me on my transgender patients when I had just started working with others, or just for some nice girl talk.

As a professional courtesy, she did my evaluation for HRT, but I didn't use it until 2006 due to my own fear and indecisiveness about whether to transition or not. I kept the letter all these years and used it for the doctor I was going to see originally, who I have been referring to over the past 15 years. I have that letter in my scrap book I am making and I cherish it.

What was the most interesting thing about Gianna, was that even though she had been a throw away transsexual street kid and never even earned her G.E.D., she was highly self educated and was one of the best gender scholars I have ever known. She wrote and edited the book Transgender Care as the principle author with Donald Tarver M.D. The book discusses in depth how to provide quality comprehensive services for transsexuals and proposed revisions and additional recommendations that informed the American Psychiatric Association and the World Professional Association of Transgender Health of which she was a member, (At the time of the publication of her book, this organization was still known as The Harry Benjamin Gender Dysphoria Association) on revisions to enhance the quality of lives for people uncomfortable with their assigned birth gender.

But what I admired most about Gianna was that she had the most remarkably kind attitude and love for life despite having been thrown out on the streets as a very young teenager, having to cope with a seizure disorder and was suffering from AIDS. She eventually succumbed to neurological complications while writing and editing another book on treating transgendered people that I was supposed to write a chapter for on family preservation.

When we lost Gianna on February 22nd, 2004, we lost a bright shining light of love and hope in our community. In my own little way, to honor her presence in my life and that I may never forget how much she meant to me as a friend, I still keep her name and phone number on my cell phone as it gives me a reminder of who she was and of our friendship.

Rules for the Road (How To Be Happier in Life and Have More Friends)

After having read several blogs this week that provoked much spirited conversation and a really good conversation with a blog writer, this morning I came up with some rules for the road in life. I think if I will apply them to myself I will be a happier person and perhaps just a little more persuasive when I post an opinion blog (versus a personal triumph or agony blog).
1. Celebrate Diversity: All Diversity I want mine celebrated too. It's better to give than to receive but receiving feels pretty good too. So if I want mine to be respected and included, it would be best that I be mindful of others' views and beliefs. Don't have to agree or like them, but be respectful.
2. Be Tolerant: Remember this mathmatical representation: I/E (read "I over E") When I choose intellect over emotion in discussing my beliefs that oppose someone else's. This allows me to have an exchange with someone and probably learn something I might not have considered.
3.Don't Deliberately Provoke People: I don't need to go in for the kill when I see someone's sensitivity on any issue or opinion.
4. Be thoughtful: If I make a statement, I need to be able to back it up with some research. I'm always embarrased when I come out with a strong opinion when I later find out I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. I think I would rather shut up and look ignorant than be proved to be ignorant.
5. Be Friendly: Even if someone is expressing some idea or philosophical belief that absolutely makes me want to gag, I'm going to try to find something I like about that person.
6. Be Sensitive; I don't know what private or not so private hells someone else went through and unless I've had a conversation about where I've been in my life with someone they don't know the private and not so private hells that I have been through.
7. Be Prompt in saying I'm sorry: Really. I need to do this when I hurt some one's feelings or unintentionally make them angry and as soon as possible, be it privately or publicly.
8. Be Gracious: Forgive and forget. This one can be just for me and no one else. I can be selfish about this. When I forgive, whether the other person tells me they are sorry or not, I feel better, I am not carrying a resentment that only makes me feel emotionally hung over.
9. Be Kind: Reach out to someone when I see them hurting, whether I like them very much or not at all. Even if I can't do anything else, I can at least listen which sometimes is the best thing to do. I also don't have to come up with a solution. Sometimes one just needs to vent their pain/ frustration.
10. Post This Where I Can See It: I think I probably should review this once or twice a week, if not every day. I can be forgetful of my own values at times.

The Wisdom of Fritz Perls

I do my thing and you do your thing.
 I am not in the world to live up to your expectations.
You are not in the world to live up to my expectations.
You are you and I am I
And If by chance we happen to find each other, it's beautiful.
And if not, it can't be helped.
- Fritz Perls

The most well known icon of gestalt psychotherapy, not to be confused with gestalt psychology wrote this years ago and I find it as powerful when I was 17 as I do today at 53. What a powerful and freeing idea.
 If you find synergy with someone, then that is a very positive and a true opportunity for personal growth. If not, that's ok too. Be free to be who you are as I will do the same. Doesn't matter if you agree with someone or not, go your own path and allow others to do the same. It would cut down so many barriers as opposed to authortarian collectivists who demand that we all march to a single drummer and if you are out of step, it is not acceptable.
 Diversity includes accepting ideas that we find diametrically opposed to our own belief system. That requires a large leap for a significant minority of us. I endeavor to be able to do that. I haven't done it perfectly, but it is my goal. I hope you will join me and doing what you can to make it yours too.