(NB:
I resisted the urge to call this blog ‘From Russia Without Love’!)
Where
to begin with a response to the latest state-sponsored idiocy from Putin re
banning trans-people from driving? The answer - my poetry pal Andi - who ably
targets Putin with prose and poetry in this Brown Girl guest blog.
ANDI MOTHER HEN
Andi is 1.88m of gender conundrum who stumbled out
of 70’s Rock ‘n’ Roll fog into the heady world of Performance Poetry around a
decade ago. Swapping the drum stool for tour management in 1985, Andi took on
the role of Tour and Events manager whilst writing about life’s twists and
turns. Step-parent to six kids over thirty years and Mother Hen to hundreds of
touring performers, Andi now performs her poetry regularly and headed the
Acoustic Night Bristol group hosting Open Mics at Halo Café Bar for the last
eight years. She loves Bristol!
*
HEAVEN
KNOWS I’M SLIGHTLY MISERABLE NOW
So,
long before self-awareness took root, I remember being fascinated by colour,
music and cars. The gender conundrum became apparent a couple of years later.
Re-packaging, as I now describe my major life decision, came 45 years later by
which time I had run the full gamut of role playing. Yet those three stimulants have driven me all
my life, bringing me undreamt-of experiences sublime, insane, physically
painful and totally bliss-making.
As
years passed observing misogyny and prejudice from inside my invisible string vest
bubble, playing a masculine charade gave me time to pursue myriad interests. I
held down scores of jobs that would be impossible as a Trans-lesbian in today’s
Russia.
As
a transwoman I would be labelled at best a misfit, sexually perverse and
mentally deranged; now unfit even to manage a vehicle it seems. If I were ‘lucky’
they might still accept me cleaning the arse-cracks of my quadraplægic clients
but how would I get to them if I couldn't drive?
What
will be the futures of young transgendered Russians I wonder?
No
chance their boys would resolutely grip the cymbal stands of their
step-parent’s drum kit on a drop-side truck in a city parade. No chance that
they would get heard and treated as a sentient being capable of love,
responsibility for the health of others and a sense of community.
They
will never drive through all four seasons from Bergen to Trondheim in one day,
following two pert-buttocked, lycra clad road-skiers at 50kmph downhill through
the mid Norway valleys. They will never get to rub noses and breathe in the
grassy breath of an inquisitive, beautiful cow in a sleeping village or see
NATO armed forces playing war games as I did when we drove back to Oslo.
Will
they ever learn that Sat-Nav is a waste of time, try reading a map, write a
prose poem about a man falling in love with the female voice on it and be able
to perform it in public without derision?
I
wonder how Putin would react if Charlie Hebdo front-paged him as a gay icon? If
they haven’t already (other satirists have).
Of
course Russia is not alone in this insidious action, sadly misinterpreting
transpeople as deviants. But it has not always been so.
Wyanketcha,
Berdache,
the Native Americans called us – Two Spirit People – respected and revered as
something special, often being the members of the tribe who knew about herbs,
natural medicines and keeping the history and social balance of the tribe.
Clean
up your act Vlad.
Why
not try nailing the corrupt in your government, round up the child abusers, extremists
and poisonous alcohol producers?
I
guess there will now be a period of discreet social cleansing which in time
will leak out on social media as surely as the incursions into Crimea and
Ukraine, fuelling more impotent outrage
from some in more allegedly liberated
countries.
For
the time being I look on with underlying apprehension, sadness yet gratitude
that I live here, for the time being cosseted by State pension, wrinklies bus and railcard and a roof over my
head.
GIVE
THANKS
For
the cumulative guidance, love and support that has taken me from wretched being
to one-ness.
GIVE
THANKS
For
it came, not from one God, one source, but from each and every person I walked,
talked and broke bread with.
GIVE
THANKS
For
those with whom I have shared the raw edges of pain, tears and heart-ache.
GIVE
THANKS
For
those who dedicate their lives to saving and improving the mortal lives of
others. We all know who you are. Respect
GIVE
THANKS
For
those with whom I have worked and travelled, from all over the world. The
diversity affirming our similarities and at the same time our individualities.
Taken beyond traditional religions, the bond of humanity working together,
catalysed by words, music and dance, transcends boundaries and bureaucracies
extending knowledge and awareness.
We
may march to different drummers
But
we all need to feel the beat
GIVE
THANKS
BUT
TAKE RESPONSIBILITY.
*
Thanks Andi