The Road to BTAC2019, Day 1: Through My Eyes (Part 1)

Well, the time has finally arrived for the Black Trans Advocacy Conference (BTAC) in Dallas,TX. I admit I stated yakking to my co-workers about my first meaningful vacation since I can remember last week, hoping that I don't jinx it  like countless other times. On Monday, April 22, for the first time in 30 years, I was taking the train to an unfamiliar city. The last time was way back in 1989, leaving my native Milwaukee for New Orleans and Dillard University (via Chicago). 

My previous blogs had asked the question if I was ready to open up and allow myself to absorb the knowledge from these workshops and become a more confident trans woman of color. I may have been openly trans for over 20 years, yet I still get depressed with my life on occasion. Why? It's definitely not because I missed being my former masculine self. As I am promptly approaching the big 5-0 next year, the so-called "mid-life crisis" couldn't have picked a worse time to rear its fucked-up head. I still recall my sis Juanita reminding me about "coming out of my shell" nine years ago. It echoes in my head when I come across a crowd of people. 

This almost didn't come to pass. Easter Sunday, I re-packed my gear, adding something here, leaving something behind. I had nightmares of oversleeping my pick-up time for my cab, then the bus to Chicago to catch the train. I constantly reminded myself NOT TO MISS THIS BUS. I made the reservation two hour early...only for them to realize I was in Rockford, not suburban Belvidere! The cab made it, and got to the bus station in the nick of time. I decided to keep my Facebook fans up to date on exactly where I was on my way to Dallas. 

Thankfully, the bus parked in front of Chicago's Union Station, short distance to my train. Shame I had to lug that shit over to the baggage check-in. for a place as humungus as it was, you'd think finding a bathroom would be easy...but it wasn't even close. be glad I didn't go in my new leggings. Anyway, within 30 minutes I got to board the train, climb up the smaller-than-cramped staircase  (which you needed to walk-down to both grab some snacks in the lounge or answer Nature's call) to my seat, and got comfy for the next 21 hours.

I went down to the lounge after leaving Chicagoland to grab some snax: two bags of Doritios, two 20oz drinks, and a small pizza. Cost: $17.50. WTF?! It's Amtrak. I then blew $20 on dinner as the train prepared to leave St. Louis: thyme-coated chicken with green beans and mashed potatoes with ice tea...and NO FUCKING DESSERT!!! The "dessert" was the pleasant conversation with two elderly women, one white, one black. We could've gone all night, but it was going on 9:00pm and the dinner car was closing. We talked about our lives, where we're from and, not surprisingly, politics or, basically, how Drumpy Humpty has made us a laughingstock. That's for another day.

So the next 12-plus hours went by on the train uneventufully as it went through small town after small town en route to Dallas. Morning came, and I woke up realizing we had crossed into Texas. Should I waste some more overpriced shit in the lounge downstairs? Decided to go back to sleep. Around 10:00am, I woke up for real, checking my phone's GPS to look up where the hell we were in Texas. Thankfully, 90 minutes later, I saw the Dallas skyine, this time with my own eyes. I had finally arrived in Big D to attend BTAC.

.....to be continued