Heather Flescher

The Other Shoe

I honestly thought we had won.
In March 2016, the North Carolina legislature
passed a bill banning transgender people from public bathrooms.
The reaction was immediate.  And angry.
College sports teams, corporations,
musicians, conventions and state governments boycotted them.
And on May 9th, 2016,
the Attorney General of the United States announced
for the first time ever
they would not allow discrimination against trans people,
the federal government would protect us.
It seemed impossible, but there it was, as official as official can be.
Watching history happen right then, like inevitable progress to a better future
fulfilling the promise of America that was drilled into us in school.
I could almost see the wheels of justice turning like the workings of a giant clock,
I could almost hear the bells of freedom ringing out across the land.
No more closets.  No more fear.  No more tragic deaths.
Finally… we were accepted. 
We were welcome.
We were
                SUCKERS.
And our lovely, shiny vision of the future
was about to be smashed to bits.
Our fledgling visibility made us the ideal scapegoat
for a country whose majority still didn’t know who or what the hell we were.
A ready-made target for a new right-wing administration,
after they secured a solidly right-wing Supreme Court.
Reassuring the merchants of hate that now their values would prevail,
they sparked a backlash as vast as it was sudden.
Across this country, in states and counties and towns,
laws and ordinances protecting trans people were shredded.
And a wave of new laws sprouted up to replace them.
Taking away our health care.  Arresting doctors for treating us.
Stripping away our rights to employment and education,
drivers’ licenses and housing.
Kidnapping trans children from their families,
withholding their life-saving medication, forcing them to reverse their transition.
Forcing them back into lying and hiding and dying every day.
A campaign of vicious legislation spreading across the land,
hatched in the red-state strongholds of reactionary fervor
and growing faster and faster.
A patchwork of new laws, all with similar language,
prepared by the same conservative think tanks and hate groups
that had patiently waited to unleash their carefully crafted agenda,
to mobilize and focus the maximum possible force
to attack the most vulnerable among us
and eliminate every resource we need to keep living.
Trans people in America now face constantly intensifying,
overtly weaponized prejudice from all sides,
backed up by a lapdog media that uncritically repeats
all the poisonous lies and propaganda handed to them.
The so-called wheels of justice have become a buzzsaw,
a heartless mechanism of concentrated power designed and directed to destroy us.
 
I honestly thought we had won.
I thought those glorious slogans of liberty and justice for all
were finally manifesting across this nation.
I didn’t foresee how much hatred still existed for our enemies to tap into.
I didn’t predict that trans folks would have to step up in this emergency,
stockpiling hormones, practicing home electrolysis,
training for back-room surgeries, setting up safe houses,
studying self-defense and buying weapons,
updating our passports while we still can,
keeping a bag packed with the essentials at all times.
I didn’t expect that trans folks would be forced to flee their states,
or even abandon their country,
leaving behind jobs and schools and homes in search of basic safety.
I didn’t know we would need to join together like never before,
strengthening our bonds of community to withstand a worst-case scenario,
reaching out emphatically to friends and loved ones and allies
in the name of our essential survival.
 
I didn’t imagine the other shoe was about to drop.
I didn’t realize the war was just starting.