I'm. Coming. Out.

So, I've been coming out at work though a long, intensive, very hesitant process. Initially I told the two people I was closest to. Then I didn't say anything to anyone for a while. I told my supervisor on Monday. The conversation pretty much had the tone of me explaining that I would be switching from Exxon to Shell gas from now on... As I told my friend, my supervisor just kind of nodded... it seemed like she was thinking, "Why the fuck are you telling me? I don't care what kind of gas you use!" Fortunately, she also told me to make sure I didn't allow people to harass me in any way because I felt too intimidated to do anything about it. I love my supervisor. :) Anyway, my final plan was just having the two people I told initially spread it for me. It's not that I'm lazy... seriously, as outgoing and happy as I am a work, I was deathly shy for the first two weeks and probably spoke a total of 3 words in that time... I really don't like being the center of attention (contrary to popular belief) and I don't like to disappoint people or have them dislike me... particularly for petty shit. Hopefully after this initial 'excitment', people will just call me Ethan, and we can move on from there. Even more hopefully, there won't be any excitement, can just finally be myself around them and no one will notice. We'll see.

Do Black Men Eat Bananas?

This past weekend, I moved from my parents' house in the heart of suburban Northern VA to my decently sized apartment the next city over. But where I was one of a handful of minorities in my old neighborhood, people of color tend to dominate my new dwelling space (mostly Hispanic... which means I will have to dig up some Spanish from my 8th grade memory..."Hola, Jose!" There are a lot of hot guys in my neighborhood. I digress...) Em... oh yes. So, I don't know if it has to do with going from seeing very few men of color to suddenly seeing them everywhere, but I've recently rediscovered my racial self-consciousness. Wait, maybe that's not the phrase...but I've become very aware of my color and the gender I am presenting and comparing myself to those around me.

In typical day, I ask myself, "Do grown black men often babysit autistic white boys?" "Do grown black men put their hands on their hips when they pump gas?" "Why am I the only black man in the produce section of the supermarket? Do black men eat bananas? Why are those women staring at me?" That last question could actually be attributed by the fact that an increasing number of women of reproductive age have been looking at me, trying to guess my gender. I'm sorry, but I have no sperm, ladies. Nor a particular desire to procreate... with you... Hmmm. They could also be looking at the fact that I'm the only black male handling bananas. (They could ALSO be curious to know why I have not 3 or 4 bananas, but 10-12 bananas in my basket. Because I'm a vegan, and that's how I roll...)

I have often lamented how my dad and I were NEVER close, and how now more than ever I need him to teach me the Way of the Black Man. It seems, though, that more often than not each must find his own way. And I suppose that I could get hung up on separating negative stereotypes from positive stereotypes... but in the end stereotypes are stereotypes, and I gotta do my thing. (Okay! I gotta do my THANG! Geez...) For serious, it's not a bad thing to be a black man who eats healthy, who tries his best to support those with special needs (regardless of race or gender!) in his community, who doesn't drink or do drugs, who spends more time in academia than prison, and who DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT PEOPLE THINK ABOUT THEM.

I mean for real. It's time to get crunk, G.

A NEW Miss Theresa!

One of my jobs involves babysitting a high-functioning 10 year old autistic child. He's really awesome and constantly surprises and amuses me with the observations, connections, and conclusions he makes in his daily life. For instance, back in the winter his mom had his bathroom (along with a few other rooms in the house) remodeled. With the walls painted, a new bathtub, vanity, and tiled floor, he insisted on smiling and saying, "it's a NEW bathroom!" (One of the lightbulbs in the room was out--it wasn't screwed in all the way-- so when I screwed it all the way, he was laughing hysterically about having "a NEW lightbulb!" He also woke me up at 3 in the morning with his giggles when I spent the night because he was so excited about this concept of 'new'.) He also has a really great memory and ability to discern difference. If I change the pizza sauce on his pizza even slightly, he will notice, get pissed, and of course, not eat it. (And 10 years from now he will be able to tell me the exact date that I fucked up his pizza sauce! LOL.)

So what does this have to do with me? This past weekend I spent the night while his mom was out of town. Sunday morning we woke up, had breakfast and such, and got ready to go to Barnes and Noble when he suddenly turned to me, very excited, and said (pointing to my face,) "It's a NEW Miss Theresa!" Haha, so he had finally noticed that there was a very distinct difference from the person whom he met back in August when I first started working with him, and now. Fortunately, of the things he does obsess over, my physiological change isn't one of them. One good thing about working with him (for me, not for him) is that he mixes up "I" and "you" all the time, so he just uses names to differentiate who he's talking about... which is great when he's at the store and begins talking about "Miss Theresa" (in 3rd person) and I can just pretend that she's someone who's not there.... (and not me.)

The problem is, observant little child isn't the only one... and as my facial hair (read: sparse sideburns) is growing in, I will be forced to come out sooner or later. It's much easier to explain to children than adults, "Really, I'm the same person. I'm just a NEW me!"

2 Minutes in Hell is Better than 1 Minute in Hell (Part One)

So, today I did something.  ::pause for shock and awe effect to fade::

Yes, I did something that I am loathe to do.  As far as personal maintenance tasks are concerned, flossing, clipping my toenails, tweezing my eyebrows, and facial glycolic peels are all preferred to what I did this morning.  This morning, May 25th, 2009, I went for a run.  ::pauses another moment to allow readers to catch their breath::

In my blog, I talk about a lot of random ass, seemingly unrelated things, but I would argue that there is at least one common theme: navigating this cesspool of emotions and experiences called life.  I've done at least one book review, mused on experiences I've had directly related to my trans identity, explored experiences related to my black identity, and I've talked about wizards and cupcakes.  I rarely touch on politics, largely because it was my ill-chosen major for 4 years and have tried to distance myself from anything containing the words, "diplomatic efforts, aid, 'solution', agreements, conflict, and arms," (well, not 'arms' like biceps, but 'arms' like weapons... yeah.)

So continuing with the wreck that is my train of thoughts, I wanted to talk about fitness for the summer; namely, how any fat body can become healthier and more fit.  ::waits for laughter to subside:: Yes, ladies, gentlemen, and undecided/gender avoidant, I do actually know something about living a healthy, fit lifestyle.  And despite my financial situation, I'm willing to give you advice FOR FREE in my four part series.

Part One: Cardio

Part Two: Strength

Part Three: Food

Part Four: Energy

Don't worry, each of these posts will be relatively short.  'Relative', of course, being the operative word... So yes.  Running.  I'm not a runner.  I've never been a runner, and in all likelihood, you will probably never find my ass trudging through the Marine Corps Marathon.  But of all forms of cardio, running is consistently my favorite.  (Swimming and cycling are close second.)  Running does a couple of things: 1) it builds your leg muscles, the largest muscles in your body and therefore greater engines for fat burning, 2) it gives you a few minutes to clear your mind, like meditating, but also gives you a rush of endorphins to help stave off depression, and 3) cardiovascular strengthening helps prevent heart-related illness down the road.  Yay!  (Of course, you have to keep it up.)

But everyone thinks, "I'm too fat," or "I'm too slow," or "I have too many ___ problems."  First of all, we need to separate excuses from reasons before beginning to run.  When I say this, my greatest intent is not to suggest Beginning an Exercise Routine.  I simply mean beginning to run, like incorporating flossing into your teeth brushing routine.  There are amputees who run WAYYYYYY faster than many of us will ever be able to.  They didn't use their lack of legs as an 'excuse' not to run.  (That said, if you, reader, have a serious medical condition, I am not at all advocating that that's not a reason to abstain.  Capice?  Please take care of yourself.  I will suggest further options for you later in this blog.)

Running is not hard.  In fact, our ancestors learned to run before they swam, cycled, played tennis, etc.  It's merely a matter of putting on some seasonally appropriate clothing (a stupid t-shirt from a work fundraiser will do) and some athletic shoes (no, you don't need air jordans to make you run faster and better.)  Also, you don't need an expensive gym membership or even access to costly gym equipment (treadmill).  Gravity withstanding, the GROUND (read: Earth, pavement, sidewalk, grass, turf, track, etc.) is your optimal place to run.  Your legs are forced to do all the work, instead of a treadmill which moves the surface along for you.  So let's go over our materials checklist:

-ground.  Hills optional.

-athletic shoes. Stillettos are not preferred, though some ladies do a great job running in heels.

-socks. Always a great thing to wear with shoes.  Holiday decorations/days of week optional.

-t-shirt. Or a sweatshirt if it's sub-zero temperatures outside.

-shorts. Or sweatpants, see above.

-portable media device. Nice luxury, but optional.  Nature also sounds good.

-running partner.  Best asset you'll ever have, provided they're not excessively negative.

Like Ratatouille's "Anyone Can Cook," I will argue that "Anyone Can Run."  I even got my mom, after 3 back surgeries--resulting in a fused spine, 3 Caesarian sections, and 2 knee surgeries to run a couple of meters last summer!

When you get ready to run, your routine should look something like this:

Warm up--jog/cycle/do jumping jacks to get your heart rate up and your blood moving

Stretch--stretch lightly but thoroughly

Run--enjoy a mini-vacation from your day

Cool down--walk a few minutes until your heart rate returns to normal

Stretch again-- you should be a little more pliable now that your muscles are warmer

Shower--enjoy a relaxing, eco-friendly shower

Start/End your day!

Hit me up if you have any questions.  I purposely didn't include anything about timing, intervals, etc.  If you wanna be a competitive runner, I'm not the person to go to for that.  But if you want to just feel better in your daily life, maybe drop a few pounds, and have more energy, then my info should suffice.

Awww, I love you people.  And non-people.  I love you too.  :)

Call me Ishmael. Or Ethan, if you like. Just not....

At work, we have to pick our kids up from their buses outside and escort them to their classrooms everyday.  So on Friday afterschool, I went to pick up one of the kids for the afterschool program.  His aid was yelling something I couldn't hear over the bus engine, but I assumed she was saying 'bye' to the student so I told the student to say 'bye' to her on the bus.  That's when the bus driver said that the aid was actually talking to me.  

Me?  What did she want with me?  So I walk a little closer to the bus, still keeping an eye on my student so he didn't run away and looked at the aid.  Her voice was shrilly and old (she reminded me of someone's 80 year old southern granny.  I felt the urge to respond with a "yes ma'am," when she poke.)  "What's your name?" she shouted.  She sounded a bit like a witch, like she could do something to me by merely knowing my name.  Or maybe I read too many wizard books... 

Anyway, a range of responses went through my head.  I had no idea how she was perceiving me, so I didn't know how to answer.  Should I give her my legal (female) name? My soon-to-be-legal male name? My androgynous I-couldn't-decide-for-a-long-time name?  I went with the first option since that's how I'm known at work.  (I could just see telling her 'Ethan' and having that come back to haunt me shortly thereafter.)  So, I told her, "Theresa,"  which was actually NOT the better decision.

"Theresa?" she shouts.  It wasn't the sun making my cheeks burn.  "Theresa?!?" she shouts again a bit louder and with a hint more incredulity.  "That's a girl's name.  What, they got BOYS named Theresa now?!?" The aid was confused, but I couldn't see much more emotion beyond that... mostly because I was trying to think my way out of the situation.  The bus driver looked at me sympathetically and smiled.

"Oh... uh..." I pretended not to have heard what she said.  "Yeah!  So I hope you both have a GREAT long weekend.  Enjoy the weather!"  I smiled and took the kid inside as fast as I could.  One of the best things about working with the kids is that only a few of them talk, most of them have no idea about social gender roles/expectations, and NONE of them care what I look like or who I call myself... so long as I treat them respectfully, make them laugh, and give them candy when they ask for it.  

I'm trying to figure out, which comes first: legal name change, or unintentionally being outed at work?  LOL.

Wizards, Grains, and Attitude

Have you heard of the Dresden Files? It's a series of fictional (duh) books about a wizard named Harry Dresden who assists the Chicago Police Department in fighting crime--of the supernatural variety. Anyway, lately I've had a borderline unhealthy fascination with the books (I just finished book four) so much so that even when I'm exhausted from working late, I've stayed up til one or so in the morning trying to leard what happens next? No, I wouldn't give the books any award or anything, but they are excellent escapist fiction with humor, adventure, and evil faeries. Here's a link cause I encourage SOMEONE to check out the books: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Storm-Front/Jim-Butcher/e/9780451457813/?itm=9



Grains. So, as soon as we're told whole grains are better than bleached, enriched flour, we learn that gluten-free is better than wheat/oats/barley/other glutinous grains. And now we're finding that NO GRAINS are better than some or any grains for a host of reasons. Let's talk agricultural. Simply put, acre for acre, fresh fruits and vegetables yield far more food than grains. Grains nowadays are stripped of whatever nutritional value they might have had, and in their very protein structures have substances that cause humans to unknowingly become addicted to them. (This particularly applies to glutinous grains, seen here: http://www.habitguide.com/blog/gluten) But whole grains have lots of fiber, you argue. Indeed. But it's not the good fiber. Think of swallowing bark. It has lots of fiber, but no matter how soft it may feel in your mouth, going down your very sensitive esophagus it's creating millions of tiny cuts on the membrane, which causes the body to react by producing a fine layer of mucous to protect it. And really, if you have bad allergies like I do, do you really need your body creating MORE mucous? Eck! Alternative to grains? Lots of bananas (for calories) and lettuce/celery/similar veggies for fiber. How am I doing with this? Well, this is day 3 for me. Indeed I did the raw food thing off and on for a bit, and yes I am trying to slowly transition back to that. But for a carbo addict like myself, breaking free of the addiction to grains is step one. Sure, it all sounds wacky... until you look at it from a bio-nutritionist standpoint and not a comercial view.



We have a new supervisor at work. Now, the supervisors at my job have specialized jobs and levels of leadership. We have a behaviorist, an occupational therapist, and a woman who's kind of in charge of everything admin and in the classroom. Then each classroom has a teacher and below that are 6-8 teacher assistants (yours truly.) Anyway, the new behaviorist is a piece of work. I say she's new, but she's actually been here for several months (maybe since December?) Anyway, it doesn't matter when she got here because instead of being the modest, wise observant person who took the time to get to know each student and their protocol and the teachers/TAs, she just jumps in and start telling everyone that they're doing everything wrong, and it's been like that since. Whatever the situation is, she just jumps in, acts like she knows everything, treats the teachers (well, my teacher) and the TAs like we're dumb pieces of shit, and THEN, as if her dominion over the staff isn't enough, starts telling the parents that they're fucked up for not allowing their children edible reinforcers (read: candy) at school. Honestly, that's their fucken perogative. And if she can't teach the kids without bribing them with sugar, then she's not so perfect, is she? The worst part about her arrogance is that she has succeeded in making everyone feel afraid of her. NO ONE will tell her, "Hey, you know what? I had that under control. It's nice of you to want to help, but I'd appreciate it if you ASKED me next time since that's MY student right now." Or, "Maybe you could stop being such a condescending little prick and respect that you have people under you before they stop working for you altogether," (not quit their jobs, but you know, stop being cooperative.) Its like in the military... it's like she's an officer that treats us, the enlisted, as these people far inferior to herself. The number of times I have had to stare her down because she was wanting something to control and not able to have it is ridiculous. I liked being humble and submissive. I was able to just follow directions without (well, mostly without) asking why... the military would love me. And then SHE came and started acting like a prick and changing things in her "I'm the GOD of ABA" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Applied_behavior_analysis) manner of leadership. I'm gonna put dishwashing liquid in her coffee or something...

Reiki, Cupcakes, Rain

To anyone who read this post before, know that I deleted it and am reposting a completely different take on my weekend.  Honestly, a post entitled, "Reiki, Cupcakes, Rain" should have a much more positive focus than the one I had previously left you with.  So here's take two!

The extent of my recent social activities has rarely strayed beyond watching Disney movies and giving 10 year olds piggy back rides.  (Why are they called that, by the way?  I've never seen someone ride a pig... I guess you could... I won't speculate on what farmer's kids do with their spare time.)  Anyway, Saturday was amazing for three particular reasons.  First, it was my best friend Richael's birthday.  Happy B-Day!  She turned 24.  Yay!  (For some reason, every time I catch up to her, she has another birthday and is older than I again.)  So, birthdays are always special to celebrate with someone.  I told her that I couldn't make it to her party (which, originally wasn't a lie) so I hung out with her earlier in the day before I had to go to work.  Hanging out with Richael is always fun because she's smart, funny, and always has some new insight about life that I hadn't previously discovered or been exposed to.  (Maybe I should have named this post "I love Richael!" It's not too late to change it, I guess... LOL)  Anyway, this all led to factor number two: Reiki.  Because I don't think I can explain it particularly well, I will solicit the help of wikipedia in providing us with a working definition.

"Reiki is described by adherents as a holistic therapy which brings about healing on physical, mental, emotional and spiritual levels.^[36] The belief is that the energy will flow through the practitioner's hands whenever the hands are placed on, or held near a potential recipient."

Okay, I'm not sure that is actually better than I would have described it, but it'll do.  Essentially, the Reiki practitioner places his or her hands in strategic energy centers throughout the recipient's body with the aim of jumpstarting a more peaceful energy flow throughout the body.  Richael described the energy disruptions as vibrations that would ease turbulent energy flow.  I could liken this to one of two things: 1) Think of a tight, sore spot on your body that using vibrations and massages, eases the tension and allows blood to flow more easily to and from the spot. 2) Despite what TV says, you don't actually use defibrilators on people who's hearts have stopped, only on people who have heart attacks because the electrical activity in the heart is irregularly flowing.  The defibrilator sends a pulse through the heart that jumpstarts the electrical current and causes it to flow more normally.  I would liken either of these two cases to what happens with Reiki.  But I could be wrong.  Anyway, despite it being Richael's birthday, she offered to do a short Reiki session with me because I told her I'd been having problems sleeping lately.  (Eeep!  I told you she's an awesome friend!) She told me she'd been training in it before, but I never bothered to look it up for an actual explanation.  I didn't really entirely understand it when she explained it to me Saturday either.  But I trust(ed) her so I said, 'sure'.  The session was amazing.  It was also a little unnerving and completely disorienting.  I wish I could explain more to you, but it's one of those things that is best experienced on one's own.  I will say a couple of things to consider.  First, as with any connection with one's spiritual energy, there has to be a level of mindfulness present.  Both the practitioner and the recipient should be aware of what is happening and work together to create a meaningful session.  No, skeptics probably won't experience something great.  Second, intentions are good, but connections are better.  Maybe I felt the session to be so meaningful because it was being performed by one of my oldest friends--a person I completely trusted.  A side note on this, we both noticed that the 'revulsion' (for lack of a better term) we experienced during physical contact before was greatly diminished by transitioning.  Wow... that was an oddly passive sentence.  Let me rephrase that.  Since transitioning, I think we both feel that physical contact is much less revolting.  LOL.  Okay, R maybe you can throw some insight here?  I guess it really speaks to the importance of a body and spirit that is in tune with one another.  Finally, be prepared for some serious disorientation.  Maybe it was just me, but when I 'awoke', I couldn't figure out what planet I was on.  It was like I had literally slipped to another room, even though I was still awake.  I've never been hypnotized before, so I imagine it might be something like that.  I dunno.

So that was Reiki.  While I was doing Reiki, the cupcakes I had made earlier in the morning were cooling in the refrigerator.  (NEVER put frosting on warm cupcakes!)  The cupcakes were strawberry-vanilla flavored, to bring as an offering to my best friend when I surprised her by showing up at her party later in the evening.  :D  Okay, Richael, I'm going to brag a bit.  While they might not have been world-class cupcakes, I still thought they were awesome!  LOL.  I hope you liked them too.   Cupcaking is meaningful because it requires much understanding of chemistry in combining the ingredients, much patience in waiting for them to cook in the oven, much balance to keep from walking heavily on the floor near the oven (causing them to fall) and much love and positive intention to make them your absolute best.  Nothing but the best for my Richael.  :)

Okay, since you twisted my arm, here's a picture of the cupcakes.  ::silence::  Of COURSE I took pictures of my first quasi-culinary success!  LOL.  

You can check out more pics of the cupcake and from the party on my facebook (but you'll have to add me as a friend first.)  Hok, so that's it for cupcaking.  The rain?  Well, what can I say.  It's been raining a ton lately, which is okay cause I'm not ready for 90 degree weather... but at the same time it's just warm enough that mold is growing like crazy.  And I'm allergic to mold.  So, the very sick progression of suffering goes like this: 

Rain->mold->allergies->sinuses->Ethan is grumpy->everyone else suffers.

Oh well.  Hehe, so that's the end of my post.  Hopefully it was marginally better than the last one. Talk to you later.  Lots of love.