Keep In Touch With Your Trans Elders!! (Part 5)

 

So, the week at BTAC was going on as scheduled, despite the legal troubles thanks to the over-bearing Commander-in-Chief's ceaseless quest to make the trans people disappear permanently. Being in Texas, predominantly a red-voting state with its own anti-trans issues, it's never easy to be exist as we are sans strings attached. Nevertheless, the fight continues on. Friday has arrived, the night after yet another lengthy Black Trans International Pageant went into the wee hours. I went to sleep, not knowing who the winner was, or how much I cared less about it.

As it turned out, the new Ms. Black Trans International winner just happen to be a friend of mine...Latonia Love, from Jackson, MS. I congratulated her when I got the chance. Keep in mind (if I didn't already mentioned it in the last blog) I have only attended the event since my inaugural visit to BTAC, in 2019. Why would I spend time being disinterested in an event that I've cared so little about? Maybe I figured my masculine traits wanted to do something else to spend my time in Big D instead of seeing people dressed to the 9s for a Miss America-like snoozefest while the NFL Draft was also going on at the same time. I never said I was your average transwoman of color who enjoys wearing hair, nails & makeup like any woman my age. I'm just a rough-edged T-girl who's always marched (sans pumps) to the sound of my own soul my whole life. That's why I'm different kind of girl in everyway. 

I spend the morning watching...something on local Dallas TV while getting myself ready for the final session of my sister Elle's seminar A Gumbo of Women. Since she had asked me to be part of the trans elder's panel, I decided to throw on something I have had since before my transition in 1998: a multi-colored shirt that I bought that I purchased in the same month of my coming out. I can say it still fits like a glove now as it did when I first wore it. Add a sport coat and a nice skirt and I was ready. Before hand, we gathered outside shortly after a storm passed by the area. It was originally going to be a smoke break for some, but Sylvia & Elle started out with an exercise to remind us that this sisterhood had each other's back. 

Here's what it was: we were set up in groups of two, depending on what number we counted (1,2,1...and so on). I was part of Group #2, and we gathered in a circle around Group #1. We walked around them, taking turns rubbing their respective backs as a comforter to ensure they were mentally and spiritually not alone. Some of them started to cry as we kept circling the first group. Then, we rotated. Time for Group #1 to get 'rubbed." We closed our eyes and just meditated while the first group began rubbing our own backs. The sensation of having my back rubbed by multiple sets of hands while meditating may be relaxing, however I knew this was an experience you can rarely achieve at any other conference.  Think of a time or two in your life when your tear ducts suddenly gush out of drops out of your eyes for no apparent reason ( graduation, funeral, wedding, etc.). Imagine that feeling similar to this moment at BTAC. All the expressional caress of love from so many people like me hugged together closer than a couple of grizzlies can bring out so many tears I swear this can change your outlook on life.

We return inside to continue the session, working on a few subjects in our workbooks, such as learning the 8 Dimensions of Wellness, learning about the Languages of Love, the Politics of Passability, and the 7 Generation Principle, based on the importance the well-being of future generations in all decisions...or something like that. It's mainly what we put into our workbooks to help us describe ourselves and steps to improve and inspire our fellow trans members.

Elle continued to inform the class that as the trans attacks against us keep coming, we've got to remain strong and resilient. She began to tear up talking on this. Sylvia was right beside her to put in her equally positive comments. It was now time for the Golden Flames to come up front. There were five of them there in front of the class...which now included me. My friends Lia and Lacretia were also part of this esteemed group of 50-plus trans people living their lives. Lacretia, at age 78, is among the eldest ones there. One other trans elder came in while we were up there, but I didn't know her. We each took some time to speak to the younger folks. Each as monumental as the last. During there speeches, I felt something inside, and I knew it was coming. The audience easily saw me unsuccessfully trying to to hold back my tears. I'm sure they could wonder why. 

Drying the tears on my made-up face, I had told them about the friendship I had with Monica Roberts, the late, great trans advocate, and how her sudden passing in 2020 had always struck a chord in my life. We had been online friends for years before finally meeting face-to-face during my first trip to BTAC in 2019. Monica kinda inspired me to get more involved in being an advocate for trans rights. It was an incredible moment in my humdrum life, and receiving the news about her death broke my heart. Seems I've been coping with that ever since. It was then I reminded the attendees that, like Monica, we trans elders could go home unexpectedly, so now was the time to "keep in touch with your trans elders" while you still can, regardless of whom they contact or how after BTAC concluded. Knowledge among generations of trans people is SUCH a key in the fight for our rights!

 

I felt better after saying my little speech to the crowd. The task is to hope and pray the younger trans people can heed our message and spread the word. I asked Lacretia if she thought I spoke well enough. She actually approved of that! That was done, now it was time to get ready for the evening's main event, the annual Awards Gala. I had worn a dress the previous three times at this shindig. Tonight, I got something different to wear. Instead of a dress, which normally gets worn approximately once a year, I got a fancy...jumpsuit. Don't get me wrong-it WAS quite comfortable, and with the airly foam Skechers with the holes in them, I couldn't have been more relaxed. At least I wasn't wearing some pumps that eventually hurt my feet the longer I had those suckers on! The Awards Gala is where everyone gets to dress up to the 9s for an evening for celebration of achievements within the trans community. Of course, my friends Carter & Esperanza (Espy) Brown, the BTAC co-founders, were always seated near the stage up front. (If you've ever met Espy, don't let her small size fool you. From experience, I can tell you she HUGS like a grizzly bear! It's only because she treats everyone here like we're part of the family, which we are!) Alongside the Browns are the newly-crowned Mr., Ms and Mx Black Trans International winners, whom they all won their respective competitions just 24 hours earlier in the very same room. 

One thing I shall say is that the BTAC higher-ups had told everyone to get updates on goings on via the Whova app. Fine. Someone must have gotten the starting time wrong. I was told be downstairs by the main conference room by 6:30pm. I show up....where's everybody? What the fuck's going on here? Only about 5 people were there, waiting to get checked in, including me. Time the Gala actually started: 7:50 pm-ish. So I get checked in, found my table and just sat there, wondering why these things always start late. No, this sure as shit isn't a Black thing, either. These tickets normally get sold out quickly, and this is an event that anyone can come to. One year earlier, I got to sit with mainly a group of white folks while downing several glasses of water and iced tea, with packets of sugar substitutes nearby. I chatted away with my table mates as the evening went along, waiting for the festivities to begin. Many of you who saw the rare full-body photos from that event on Facebook gave me a lot of rave reviews on my sequined outfit combo. Yeah, I know I wasn't wearing pumps, and I wasn't going to. Whenever you go to cultural events like this, having sore feet from walking around in bad pumps are hard to overcome. But yeah, looking back at it now, the black-and-gold sequin outfit was originally going to be worn during my first Awards Gala in 2019. My plus-sized ass couldn't get the zipper to fasten in the back, which would have caused a wardrobe malfunction almost as embarrassing as Janet Jackson's was in the Super Bowl!

Each year that I've attended the BTAC Awards Gala, I would get a chance to have my full-size photo taken by a professional photographer in front of a banner with the logos of the event's sponsors. I still remember the first time back in 2019, wearing the gown that I had worn at the Forest City Pageant back in Rockford a year earlier; in 2023, the year we came back from the pandemic issues, I had on an aqua-turquoise dress WITH three-inch pumps. I proudly showed off them off in the photo shoot, yet to this day, I've never got to see it posted by the photo guys. Ironically enough, they got to take a shot of me dressed all in white for the opening night service (that's where we all get those Kente cloths before we go to dinner)! Of course, the 2024 photo, where I surprisingly got SO MUCH LOVE for that I still don't know if I did anything special to deserve the accolades. I can tell you that I DID have a full-body shot prior to this year's Gala, though to date it hasn't been released online yet. 

I should also mention that there usually is an emcee outside the Gala. I think it's the same guy, but I don't know of him by name. Anyway, when attending the Gala, you see everyone dressed like we're attending the Academy Awards (feels like it, too!) , and the emcee walks up to you and shoves a mic in your face while people take your picture. Entertainment Tonight  it definitely is not even close! He's just wanting to know who you are and where you're from. At the '19 Gala, he asked about where I was from, and when I mentioned about me originally being from Milwaukee, he shrugged, noting that there were PLENTY of folks that came to BTAC from back home. 

While waiting for this year's Gala to begin, I had gotten tired of waiting for the crowd to arrive, so I went ahead and vamoosed about the room and took some selfies. I was galavanting with anyone that didn't mind taking a photo with me. Almost forgot to mention the new hairpiece I wore, which was much different from the norm: a lengthy grayish-colored hue which I thought was more age-appropriate at the time, but everyone agreed it was different. Thankfully, the Gala started like it normally does: a Dallas-area African dance group began playing the drums at the conference room entrance, along with three tribal dancers. I got into the beat of those drums, which sounded like thunder throughout the hallway, and began to dance in my Skechers for a while. This is where having the jumpsuit gave me such flexibility to move my legs, however, I would later discover a major disadvantage on wearing that outfit as well. Back at my table, where only a few people were seated with me, dinner was finally arriving. Oh, boy. When you make your reservations to come to suburban Dallas for this BTAC event, you do get to choose what kind what kind of dish you'd want for this Awards Gala: beef, chicken or even vegan. No shame here. It's comes down to who's preparing these cuisines and how well they're done. I might have forgotten what I wanted for my dinner, so I told them chicken...or was it beef? Sorry, I can't do vegan. Was never a veggies person. I'm not ashamed to say I'm a bit of a carnivore. The black-clad servers (who oddly were mostly Latina) gave me my meal...chicken. Fine, time to eat as the ceremony began 40 minutes later than usual. 

I'm applauding the award recipients while consuming my evening feast, gulping down at least four combined glasses of water and ice tea. The food itself was like a poorly-cooked brisket, dry. Even the salad dressing couldn't help make the flavor taste better. Compare that chicken to those at Raising Cane's, a regional fast-food place known for it's chicken fingers...FLAVORLESS chicken fingers. Believe me, if it wasn't for the sauce, it wouldn't be worth eating it. I had previously tried them during a stop in DeKalb, IL (home of Northern Illinois University), and my taste buds weren't impressed. 

Then, all of a sudden, it happened. I felt a tingling sensation in the nether regions and it was getting worse as the night rolled on. I had to take a whizz, and fast. One major problem occured when putting on the jumpsuit: It had a zipper located in the back! I knew I was screwed then. When you had on a skirt or dress, that'd be easy to adjust when you had to pee. Almost the same with regular pants. Not me. I high-tailed it to the ladies' room, found a stall and closed the door. Here's where you had to improvise, folks! Thankfully, the jumpsuit's legs were baggy, so I rolled up the right leg...and PRESTO!!! OK, I did make a little mess when relieving myself, so after washing my hands, I went back to my room to make an attempt to single-handedly get out of the jumpsuit. I wound up asking someone passing by the hallway to get me unzipped! This was like getting out of a goddamn strait-jacket blindfolded! I decided to leave that outfit, as well as a purple evening dress purchased on ebay just in case the jumpsuit had not fit, behind in the room so they can donated to a local charity. 

Recovering and in some more comfortable clothes, I come back downstairs to see one of the other conference rooms converted into a dance floor for a post-Gala after party. Folks were dancing, drinks were being served, and yet there I was, standing near the door like a confused Poindexter not knowing what kind of music the DJ was playing. Definitely not the kind of music I grew up listening to. Glad I still had several of those brisket burgers left from Buc-ee's to munch on. We couldn't stay up that late, though some folks would regardless, because the buses that would take us to the Family Day at a nearby ranch would be arriving in about 9 hours. This time around, I wasn't riding the bus!

...hold up. there's one more chapter in this journey. before that, I was asked an important question prior to the final EmpowerHer session by Jennifer Love Williams,whom was one of the lecturers. Remember how I said I wasn't crazy about attending the Ms. Black Trans International Pageant? Well, what she asked me may force me to make only my 2nd pageant appearance-this time, not as part of the BTIPS audience...but as one of the contestants. Do YOU think I should make an investment and go for it, or should I resume playing hooky? 

Check out this video below of the last time I competed in a pageant, the Forest City Pageant in Rockford, IL in August, 2018. Should you think that a middle-aged trans schmuck like myself can make a run for the 2026 Ms. Black Trans International Pageant, I'd love to hear your comments. Thanx!