Features
From the Past: OITM 5th Birthday
Views: Quest for Integrity of Body and Soul
Transcending Boundaries and PFLAG: Telling Stories
Transcending
Boundaries
and PFLAG: Telling Stories
by
Lindsay Cobb
As
wind-driven rain pelted the city of Worcester, Massachusetts, an estimated
400 members of New England's GLBT community and their allies formed an
oasis of acceptance and solidarity at the Transcending Boundaries and
Northeast PFLAG Conference, which commandeered the upper floor of the
DCU Center on the weekend of October 27-29.
This was the fifth year of the Transcending
Boundaries conference, which was founded, according to the conference
literature, "to gather and form alliances within the bisexual/pansexual,
trans/genderqueer, intersex, and allied communities." In other words,
the various sexual and gender orientations not covered by "G"
and "L."
This was the first conference of the
Northeast Regional PFLAG, so the two organizations joined forces and produced
a weekend, not only of challenging talks and thoughtprovoking workshops,
but also of what may have seemed to the casual observer like strange bedfellows
... or at least conference attendees. Statuesque transwomen, ragtag hippies,
goth genderqueers, and supportive soccer moms, all gathered within the
glass and chrome of the convention center to share ideas, raise their
collective consciousness, expand their webs of friendship, and especially,
to tell their stories. A glorious hurly-burly of opinions, perspective,
and fashion sense reigned throughout the weekend.
Indeed, telling stories seemed to
be the unofficial focus of the conference, in order to expose hurts and
injustices, heal oneself, and understand one another. Jennifer Finney
Boylan, who gave the opening address on Saturday morning, and the author
of She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders, put it most succinctly when
she said, "It's impossible to hate someone whose story you know."
Other keynote speakers included Esther
Morris Leidoff, an intersex activist; Matt Kailey, author of Just Add
Hormones: An Insider's Guide to the Transsexual Experience; Samuel Thoron,
PFLAG national president; and Lani Ka'ahumanu, co-editor of the classic
Bi Any Other Name. Each of them had many stories to tell: Ka'ahumanu's
talk was perhaps the most poetic, as she urged the attendees to "go
to that naked place where fear and the thirst for justice live within
our souls."
Telling stories and listening to other
people's stories were activities that pervaded the workshops throughout
the weekend. This reporter's initial reason for attending was to participate
in a panel discussion involving bisexuals and transpeople who came out
in the course of their marriages. The discussion elicited stories from
both panelists and attendees that seemed to share common themes of initial
pain and confusion, leading eventually to one form or another of acceptance
and reconciliation.
Telling stories also served as a means
to recount and combat societal oppression, from antigay religious rhetoric
to high school bullying, racism, and harassment by police. Some workshops
employed storytelling as witnessing and warning, while others employed
hands-on group exercises to explore and transform the stories in depth.
Such tactics for transformation and empowerment were another major theme
of this conference.
And what would a conference be without
vendors? On Saturday, the rows of tables lining the concourse lent a carnival
atmosphere to the conference; as various organizations provided pamphlets,
publishers offered books, magazines, music, and movies and craftspeople
hawked jewelry, buttons, and artwork. All offered the opportunity to network
and schmooze. The Halloween costume dance on Saturday night was another
opportunity for people to connect, boogie, wear outrageous costumes, and
generally decompress after an intense day of workshops.
The one suggestion this reporter put
on his evaluation forms at the end of each workshop was, "Needs more
time." With so many people presenting workshops throughout the weekend,
only an hour could be spared for each one. Any longer than that, and the
conference would have to be longer than a weekend - which isn't a bad
thing, but perhaps not immediately attainable.
Still, any amount of time spent enveloped
in the embrace of the queer community is a tonic and an inspiration. It's
a liberating feeling to sit in a roomful of several hundred people and
realize you have no need to hide. For that matter, it's a liberating feeling
to kiss your same-sex sweetie in the middle of a crowd of people in broad
daylight. Granted, we were in a crowd of like-minded others within the
safety of a convention center. We weren't standing on a street corner
in the middle of downtown Worcester, where such affectionate displays
are more important to raising the consciousness of society at large, and
which are also potentially more dangerous. Perhaps Samuel Thoron put it
most starkly when he said, "My wife and I can kiss in public almost
anywhere, at any time. Our daughter cannot, and that's wrong."
Here's to queers willing to kiss in
public anywhere. Here's to parents working to support their children's
right. And here's to conferences like Transcending Boundaries, that empower
just such cultural transformation.
Lindsay Cobb serves on the advisory board of the Queer Community Project
in Brattleboro.