(Bug Davidson) 

bug: Hey hey! 

Morty: How are ya!

bug: Very good thanks! A bit sleep deprived but good! 

Morty: So, you’re in school now, right?

bug: Yes, I’m doing an MFA at the Museum School in Boston. 

Morty: Was filmmaking always what you wanted to do? 

bug: I have always wanted to be involved in filmmaking, it always has been the biggest challenge to me. I do mostly work in moving image but I am now moving that into multichannel gallery work as well

Morty: What does it mean for you to move into the gallery setting?

bug: Right now it feels complicated! But, I think that in the future, it will allow for me to make work for a different kind of viewing that can incorporate the body, and space. I really love theaters, and watching films inside of them, but I am also interested in the relation of moving images in space, and the viewer moving thru that space.

Morty: Yes, so you’re working on more of that right now?

bug: Indeed. Recently, I put up a three channel video install at the 4th Wall Gallery. The installation is titled “Martindale” and is a colaboration with Two Left Feet Dance Company.

Morty:Why do you say filmmaking has been the ‘biggest challenge’?

bug: It takes about every craft you can imagine to make a film…you must think about light, music, feeding people, transporting people, sound, performers, fundraising, the list goes on. It is that much harder on a tight budget. But I think that it’s a blast! I love the circus of it! 

Morty: Was it a hard choice for you to decide on getting your MFA?

bug: It was. I have been out of school since 2006 and have huge debt from that situation. But, in a way, as a working class artist, that allowed me to say why the hell not! It is a great opportunity for me to focus.

Morty: What is the MFA program at the Museum School like for film?

bug: Well, it is very open here as to discipline, so it is certainly more art school than film school. I am surrounded by painters and photographers and sculptors, some of which work in video. So, it is a tremendous way to learn about art as practice, research and interconnectivity.

(Bug Davidson on set) 

Morty: Let’s talk about your work. First, If someone wanted to see your full works how can they find them?

bug: I am in the middle of restructuring my website now, so I should have my work available online by this summer!

Morty: Wonderful! A lot of your work is experimental in certain ways. What attracts you to experimental film?

bug: A lot of my work is experimental, yes. I have a hard time thinking about long narratives, especially in relation to queer imagery. I am in it for those moments you want to capture but never can… so maybe it is the impossible that interests me. I also program an Experimental Series in Austin called Homoscope - and I often say that short and experimental format and queer film go together so well - why should we be shoving our stories into a three act structure anyway? There is so much to explore outside of that format.

Morty: Experimental work often has this connotation to it…so many say ‘oh, experimental film is just blobs and colors on the screen with skreeching music, i hate it!’. I watched a lot of experimental film at the MIX Festival in NYC and it was a slow burn for me to really fall in love with it, but I eventually did. 

bug: Well, it ain’t for everyone that is true. I remember the first time I saw Tarkovsky’s “The Mirror” it was a packed theater and when it was over the lights came up and I was so goddamn thrilled, seriously, thrilled! Then I realized I was one of three people left in the theater. But ya know what, I felt those three of us were fucking cool as hell. And with online video and so many images in our field of vision everyday now, it is getting even harder to watch experimental work, or even something that moves slowly. But, I love the MIX Festival. I think that there is an atmosphere there that is like nowhere else, and the people too! And when the lights go out at MIX I know those are my people. I know I am gonna have great conversations about film after, so, yeah I guess I am fine that certain folks would rather not watch, there are plenty of things out there to entertain.

Morty: As a filmmaker does it sometimes feel like…a little push to make things a teeny tiny bit more narrative, more commercial?

bug: Absolutely! It is an industry after all, most people make films for money and most people watch them for entertainment and escape. It is just a different way of looking at things. I love me some Hollywood films too, and I am totally interested in making a feature that is super entertaining. I love both disciplines, and therefore make the distinction.

Morty: Do you plan on teaching at all or have any other plans after school? 

bug: I could be passionate about teaching film history possibly or theory. I like learning and I like people so I can think of worse jobs! Right now, I just keep funding my filmmaking habit, one way or another. I do have a feature in the works with my long time collaborator Holly M Lewis and I think after all this art it may be time for a good West Texas style Apocalypse movie. So, that is the plan. I am extremely excited about the characters she has written. There are great multi layered trans people as well as trans actors I am excited to work with again in other roles.

Morty: I’m curious how you identify regarding gender.

bug: I identify as a trans person, and a queer person, not attached to a specific gender.

Morty: Have you set out to make movies which expose the audience to non normative gender types?

bug: I think that could be said, and I also think that one could see my own trajectory as an individual in the films I have made thus far. The expressions I’ve made on screen have gotten more subtle as I have grown as a director and an artist. I have been extremely lucky to work with some amazing performers: Ben McCoy, Caitlin Lowell, Devon Bouvier, KT Shorb, Andrew Citino. I think one of those challenges we talked about earlier for me is finding the right performers. And I have been very lucky with that.

Morty: Does your gallery work and your film work come from different types of inspiration? 

bug: I think the gallery work is a chance to really shake out some images that won’t leave me alone, or that I think are particularly beautiful, but it is very close and sometimes interchangeable with an experimental short film. I would say I commit to shooting something because I can’t imagine not doing so, because some part of it will not leave me alone.

Morty: Your short, Miggy n Lil, is one of my favorite queer short films to come out in the last few years. How did this film begin for you? 

bug: The story grew out of a Mexican comic book where the hero cuts off fingers of villains. Holly would read it to me for kicks. So the comic and my idea of a butch butcher. Holly and I often work like that together, I’ll describe little scenes and she weaves the story together through the images or moments. The Texas landscape will always be in my stories. Austin is home and I can never stay away long.

Morty: How did you get funding to finish Miggy n Lil? 

bug: It was a moment where I was lucky enough to have a private funder! It was a great time making that film and in some ways, even though The Terrorist She Freaks of Texas came first Miggy n Lil will always be my first film…my first talkie where I had a great big crew to make it happen.

Morty: Who are some filmmakers you really love?

bug: Sadie Benning is a root. Isaac Julien and Christian Marclay are pretty astounding. I just missed Silas Howards new film by a few days at SXSW but I am excited to see it! Visually Tak Fujimoto is a favorite, and Declan Quinn, both are cinematographers that I think have the stuff. Goldie Hawn and Bette Midler remind me of what is fun about life. I’ll stop there.

Morty: Great list! Ok, stock question: do you call yourself a “trans / queer artist” or does that feel too limiting?

bug: Tough one! Well, I do, because it seems to be a theme in my work quite a bit…and I think that when you make work about something that will happen anyway. Like, if I made huge baskets out of safteypins, people would say “There goes that crazy punk safteypin basket artist.” 

Morty: Hilarious answer but true. Ok, last question. What are some things you would say to a trans artist who is new to the scene and wanting to make fantastic films!

bug: Just keep making films, and find a way to get what you want while staying flexible. But most importantly keep making.

Morty: Yes! Thank you for the chat! Keep me posted on your new work! 

bug: Thanks so much for the chat! I love the Bodies Of Work format so far and it looks like you are getting so much great content. Good luck with the project! 

Morty: Thank you so much! 

CHECK OUT BUG DAVIDSON’S WORK RIGHT NOW! 

Stay in touch via Facebook: Hybrid Vigor Productions 

Bug’s earlier work can be seen on this reel: http://vimeo.com/19279610

Morty: Hello Ceyenne!

Ceyenne: Hello Morty! How are you?

Morty: I’m wonderful, thank you! I hope you are as well. 

Ceyenne: Oh, I am!

Morty: Good! I first wanted to ask where are you from?

Ceyenne: I’m originally from Brooklyn. Well, between my mom and my grandparents I’m from Brooklyn, Bushwick and Park Slope. I now live in Queens, in a quiet area away from all the hustle and bustle. 

Morty: Can you give the readers a little more about what it means for you to cook and make good food? 

Ceyenne: What inspired me as a young person with cooking was the attention I got. Because of my gender identity situation, most of my behavior was taken with uncertainty. I wasn’t acting out. I’m feminine and being feminine in a black household meant there was judgement and finger-pointing. The kitchen was where I could stand my ground, and where I found approval. I found a safe haven in the kitchen and this is the one thing my parents didn’t complain about! It helped them out when I was young because my mom was in college and my dad was working. Babysitters were expensive but we didn’t need one because I could cook and we could take care of ourselves. 

Morty: Your family was not supportive of how you were expressing your gender?

Ceyenne: Oh yeah, not at all. I pretty much wasn’t invited to many family social events. I was only invited for the work: the cooking, the decorating. It was always like I could be there but could not be seen or heard. So it was kind of a catch 22. The feeling was we want you to cook but we don’t want you to stay. I felt dirty the way my family would respond about my gender. I was a hidden child. Some people would walk up to me and ask “Who are you?” and I’d say “I’m her child.” and they would say “We never heard of you.”

The family dynamic was really hard. I was on the fence a lot between wanting to come out of my shell but terrified if I did.  I was never comfortable as a child doing anything masculine, I never felt right in those shoes. That’s why the name of the book is “Cooking in Heels”. I would run around my mothers kitchen in her heels, and, you know, not being such a bright child, I would do this with the kitchen window open for everyone to see! What I never counted on was my parents coming home early and catching me in the heels. You know, when I was a child, there was none of the GLAAD and GLSEN… there was none of that. But, you know, gender issues have been around forever. But, as far as support goes, I had none. 

Morty: And you survived…

Ceyenne: I found out that not all family has to be related to you, has to be a biological part of your bloodstream. I found mentors who stood by me, reprimanded me, talked with me, consoled me and these people became my family. And each and every one of them, in their own different way, inspired me to help out other people like me. Two of my mentors, which I also call gay parents, got married in NYC. I think they were the first trans wedding couple, these are Coco and Louie. My other gay mother, Flawless Sabrina / Jack Doroshow, is very well known in advocacy and for her fight to make everyone equal. It proved to have these people in my life. My blood family was nowhere to be found for a long time, they had their own stuff to deal with. They felt they had to be away from me and it really hurt, but, recently I did get an apology. And it was honest and heartfelt and it was what I’ve been needing for a long time… so when it did happen a weight was lifted off my shoulders. 

Morty: What took them so long?

Ceyenne: I think guilt. When you know you could’ve done better but because of your own ignorance and maybe the way you were raised that you would subject your own child to discrimination..how do you expect them to succeed? This stayed with me my whole life. So, this apology meant so much. My childhood was good but there were many bad elements. I had a good education and lived in beautiful homes but I didn’t get the love or understanding that I needed. Because when you’re a child you really don’t know what’s going on…the tender moments in your life with gender identity and what you think about yourself when you’ve got other peoples impressions of you weighing on you as a child…it’s hard to come out of your shell. Like a lot of trans people in my position we don’t get the kind of family backing we need. You know, I did a lot of things that pissed my parents off, but a lot of it was for their attention. 

Morty: Did you have anyone on your side growing up?

Ceyenne: The first person to ever give me a thumbs up was my little homophobic brother! He really was homophobic but when it came down to it, he was the first one who said “You’re still my family, and I don’t care about any of the gender stuff because I love you and I’m very proud of you.” That was all the recognition I needed. He even went dancing with me! The fact that he even wanted to go meant a lot. I did take my mother once or twice. She would come and the kids would pay homage but still, there was the judgement. And I believe nobody should place judgement on anybody, unless your God themself. 

Morty: Agree, wholeheartedly. Tell me about the cooking. How did your cooking come into play more recently in your life? 

Ceyenne: Ok, well, should we start with the story of my incarceration? Or…

Morty: Start with what feels natural to start with…

Ceyenne: Ok. I was running a trans program in Jersey and I loved it. I would do anything for my clients and I did! I believed their fight was my fight and I was fought hard for them. The cooking came about when one Thanksgiving I was going to a trans clients house and they didn’t have anything and they were depressed and what I decided with my boss is I would cook a big dinner for as many clients as I could get and just have a big party for all the girls. So, I was cooking and realized we didn’t have any stuffing! All the stores were closed and I was thinking ‘We cannot have Thanksgiving without stuffing!’ I gave some money to one of the girls and asked her to go to a corner store and get some Italian bread and I found some cornflakes in my clients house and ended up making stuffing with cornflakes and Italian bread. And, you know what, it was phenomenal! When you’re cooking for people there is nothing like watching their face as they eat what you’ve made for them! Nothing like it. This is what got me started on cooking for people again. 

A few years ago I was running an ad for a little fetish site I was doing. In the state of Jersey fetish work was considered illegal and I was arrested. First of all, in jail there is no good food! Oh my God, the food was horrible! It’s just not edible! Some things I couldn’t eat and I was over myself with grief in being locked up for 28 days. After my first day I was just crying all day long. My next door cell mate said to me after hearing me crying for the whole day, “Hey, let’s get you to a place where you’re not wanting to cry all the time, and you’re getting out. Stop feeling like its the end of the world, were going to put your mind somewhere else.” Then he paused and said, “Don’t you cook? You cooked for my uncle…” And I realized this was a guy who was a friend of the person I was seeing! He said don’t worry about anything, lets talk about food. And we started talking, and right there I began to think about recipes. I started to write, and write…and one day turned into 15…and I was using everything I had around me to write on, newspapers, magazines - just everything. By the 15th day I had close to a full cookbook. When my lawyers came to see me they said you know we’re trying to work this out for you and they asked me what I was going to do when I got out. And I said I wanna cook, I wanna do a cookbook. And they thought it was a great idea. I didn’t just want to do a cookbook, I wanted to do something related to my identity. I want other people to see that there is nothing you can’t overcome. Be it gender identity, disability, it doesn’t matter. You can overcome it! I want people to remember to fight to be who they are. From this book I also want people to know that there are trans people who want to live normal lives. Not every one of us strives to be buck-naked on the back of a magazine. Some of us do want normal lives, some of us want family. I have well over 6 gay children. I mean children that I’ve mentored and when I mentor I do it for real. I advocate for them in school, make sure they can get their name changed and get their gender identity respected by their teachers. I know that if you have nobody to advocate for you it’s so easy to give up your dreams. But if you do, you start to think of ways to make your life better. And I strongly believe you can’t do much without a solid education. I think that is so, so important. 

Morty: Can you tell me a little more about your advocacy work in Jersey?

Ceyenne: I was working for a place called Jersey City Connection. I wound up in the state of New Jersey as a mistake. I got caught there after the World Trade. I went for a funeral and got trapped between the funeral and the World Trade coming down. While I was in Jersey I was invited to a trans meeting and the person running the meeting was being disrespectful to the kids. I didn’t agree with how she was running the meeting. I got called into the directors office to give them my information and I happened to talk to her about what I saw and she asked me if I had a resume, which I did, and within 5 minutes I was hired. And in the 7 years I worked there I didn’t miss but one day due to sickness. I didn’t take a vacation. Advocacy work means not ever knowing whats going to come up and things came up for my girls all the time. In Jersey there were no resources and I came in a found resources that were never ever there. 

We were trying to get the girls in to get tested but found out it was hard to get them in for that but easy for them to come in for hormones. So we killed two birds with one stone. I set up a program which did HIV testing and hormones at the same time. Until then, they were buying hormones on the street from people you really couldn’t trust. Sometimes what they thought was hormones was really vegetable oil. Why do that when you can get your hormones from a trusted place from someone like me who you could put your trust in? We did a lot of good for many years. 

Morty: Do you see your book as another facet of your advocacy work? 

Ceyenne: I see my book as one door opening. I see it as a good read for parents. I see it as a way to make people inspired. You know, I think gender identity is a small problem considering all the problems we have in this world today. We have police murdering and children killing each other. We have people on occupy wall street getting arrested because they’re mad, fighting for their rights, their jobs. There are just so many bigger things. When I was arrested it was in a quiet area and when I was outed by the police my address was given out in the paper! I mean who does this! It is really shameful what the law can do with you…my address didn’t have to be in the paper but that’s a part of their game. We’re talking a two page spread in the paper. We’re going to shame you to the point where you might take your life. This is the law! Who wrote that law! Where was my security when there were perverts pulling up to my house at all hours…and the 28 days I had to spend in jail, I really had to find the thing that gave me pure peace. Cooking. Also, it filled my soul. I felt full from writing the recipes and that really carried me through. 

Morty: How long ago was the incarceration?

Ceyenne: Two years ago. A lot of growing needed to be done after that. I was not in a good place. Mentally, emotionally. I didn’t even want to go to the doctor because I thought everybody had seen my face in the news and I was worried. It was a make or break thing but thankfully I got through it. 

Morty: Did you have folks around you who helped you get back on your feet? 

Ceyenne: I had lost faith in a lot. I had lost faith in the system. My clients and my gay children found me and stayed with me while I was in a fragile state. 

Morty: What is your life like now?

Ceyenne: Oh, it’s amazing. I have my children around me. I love being home, I love cooking. I still do advocating. It’s been a good fight. A whirlwind. A good and bittersweet fight. I get to go share my story and inspire other people. I have my brothers approval and his wife’s approval. I have a wonderful partner who stood by me through all of it. All of it. That just doesn’t come around often. This book project is so important to me, to give people their hope. To show people that, yes, there is so much more to give. And give it your all, whatever you do. I’ve seen so much, I really have. All the bumps and the bruises… I’ve managed to turn into meal stamps!

Morty: Ha! Yeah! 

Ceyenne: When I’m mad the happiest place to be is in the kitchen. I take it out on the meat. I’ll season and perforate a chicken, they’ll have a million holes, but they’ll be seasoned well! I look at things so different now because I know there is so much more for us as a society. And, if we all fight together, eventually we will be all through the White House but ..it’ll take baby steps. 

Morty: I’m not sure if you know this but you’ve been totally funded and then some on Kickstarter!

Ceyenne: Yes, I know and I’m so excited! We might want want to do a little more. With the extra money we can add more pictures, put more pages in the book. And Audacia Ray. If anybody ever found an angel….this lady has helped me so much, therapeutically, emotionally. She lifted such a heavy burden off of me by just hearing my story and letting me express, excuse me..now I’m getting kinda teary eyed…she has… given me a word to say when I was silent…It is such a monumental thing. What they are doing with the Red Umbrella Project, and the Urban Justice League - these were the lawyers that brought Audacia to me. This book is like giving birth, the both of us, we have been working on this for two years. Two years of meeting and talking and writing. And now its coming to fruition.  

Morty: I’m so very excited! I donated money to your Kickstarter and look forward to getting a copy of the book. 

Ceyenne: Thank you, darling! I believe that this book is going to save some children. They might think, after reading the book, “Oh my God, I want to go to cooking school! I wanna do something!” I want to get these girls off the street. People think girls turn to prostitution because its a lazy job. Not at all! You give up so much of your innocence - so much of your inner core. Nobody truly understands what it’s like to be there, what clients can do to you. What it does to your psyche. It’s a crazy world that we live in, but we still want to live. I want us to live with a little more of an open mind… and a feeling to inspire. Inspiration is everything and children are such sponges. If you teach love and understanding this is what will come out of your child. I’m doing the things I can do to be an inspiration to those around me. To stop the hate, the name calling, the judgments and help people who they are and who they want to become. 

Morty: I am so thankful to hear your voice, to talk with you and listen to your story. Truly, I am inspired by the work you’re doing and thank you for the opportunity to talk with you. 

Ceyenne: Of course! It was all my pleasure! And when you’re in New York City I hope you come look me up!

Morty: Without a doubt! Thank you, Ceyenne. 

LINKS: 

To donate to Ceyenne’s book, Cooking in Heels, please click on the link below: 

Morty: So, you’ve been a writer for quite some time now. How did you start writing?

Everett: I actually started writing as a kid, banging away on a cast iron Royal typewriter. I don’t have any of those stories anymore, but I’m sure they were funny and awful. I went to writer’s camp in high school and as a solid middle class teen I figured any career needed to be able to support me, so I focused on journalism, rather than battle my parents over doing something “artistic.” But lo and behold the idea of writing creative fiction and nonfiction keep tugging at me, and I eventually got back to it after a professional career in project management. Which is nothing like writing.

Morty: Do you see your book as creative nonfiction?

Everett: There are so many categories in the publishing world—genres, sub-genres, niche markets, etc.—I suppose memoir is a kind of creative nonfiction. I call it memoir or autobiography, because, well, books on the history of passenger cruises could be creative nonfiction. Not that there’s anything wrong with books on the passenger cruise industry.

Morty: Your book is a humorous take on your transition. Why did you decide to write about your trans experience, and why through the lens of humor? 

Everett: Great questions! I decided to write about my transition because I’d recently moved to a small town from a big city, and one of the first things anyone asked of me was to mentor a young trans man in town. He had some supportive friends, but very few resources in the way of figuring out where he saw himself in the great big gender nonconforming world, and I owed it to him not to push him in any one direction. It had to be his idea and his initiative. I’d struggled with that in my own transition, and it occurred to me that I could write a book which allowed for me to tell the just-coming-out trans person to be open to their own gender interpretation. And the only way I could figure out how to do that was to tell it from my own experience.

Humor, meanwhile, has been with me all of my life. It’s been the one thing I could count on in tough times or when making difficult choices. If I write anything about me and my observations, it will have at least a stream of humor in it. That said, my transition has really pointed out to me how ludicrous gender is in general. I really wanted to highlight that.

(Everett’s new book!) 

Morty: Do you have any specific ‘ludicrous gender moments’ from your book (or life) you wanted to share?

Everett: Well, there’s the moment when post-top surgery, my nipple scab fell off, down through my shirt and out my pant leg onto the floor of the men’s room at work while I was washing my hands at the sink. I wasn’t sure what to do about it! It’s a nasty rest room floor, but I “dropped” it after all. It was part of me, but not part I’d keep, and so on. Had anyone noticed? How long was I going to wash my hands while I wondered what to do about a freaking nipple scab? The thing was the size of a dime. I left it on the floor. I laughed at the marketing of products to trans people. Stand to pee devices, packies, binders … who was selling used items, who was complaining about the cost of a $12 packer, the ways in which manufacturers tried to appeal to us as a consumer group. That was strange and laughable at times.

Morty: Yes, I agree. I’ve worked in the sex toy industry, so I have experience marketing/selling some of those products. Speaking of work, do you have job on top of writing?

Everett: Right now I’m the acting executive director of an HIV/AIDS and hepatitis C advocacy and case management nonprofit. Which is a lot more of a mouthful than “writer.” It’s a whole different job but it’s much the same, in that I’m always tasked with messaging ideas to people.

Morty: I also saw on Facebook that you are a new father. Congrats! That must be amazing.

Everett: Watching the development of a tiny human figuring out their place in the world is really amazing, that’s a good word for it. When I get stressed about my own negotiation in culture, I can come and play with baby feet, and get a reality check on what’s really important. I’m so privileged to be a parent.

Morty: I am wondering how did you find the time to write in between work and family? How do you keep the balance?

Everett: It’s all about excellent time management and learning to live with some imbalance, as well as general chaos. I’ve nearly run out of gas twice this year because I keep forgetting little things like filling the tank. Plus gas is like the price of gold right now.

Morty: Do you have any advice for new writers?

Everett: For new writers—stick to your guns, write what you most care about, because you’ll be pushed on your work at some point and you need to really believe in it and its value. And, I know it sounds trite, but don’t give up! If you’re really interested in getting your work published, accept that you will get a lot of rejection notices. It’s helpful to save up money to attend writer’s conferences where you can network, pitch your books in person, and learn about what other people are doing in the industry. By the way, I got 18 rejections before my new book found a publisher.

Morty: Last question: What can you say about trans writers and the trans writing genre in general?

Everett: I think we’re at the cusp of a great wave of transgender writers and artists, I really do. We’ve been around for a long time but I feel us reaching a tipping point. Red Durkin, Tom Leger, your work, Ivan Coyote, S. Bear Bergman, Amos Mac, there are so many others (I blame new dad brain for not listing more), they’re all doing incredible work and I’m honored to be a tiny part of it.

Morty: Thank you! I am looking forward to reading your book!

Everett: Thank you, Morty! 

LINKS: 

Buy a copy of Bumbling Into Body Hair

Read the short story, Underwater, by Everett Maroon

Check Everett out on Facebook

Disclaimer: The points of view and statements are solely of the writer, Timea Quon. From Timea: “Any semblance of ignorance and what not is part of the act.  None of this is meant as a blanket statement.” 

I’ve been privy to conversation with other trans and gender variant folk for some time now. And those chats and discussions are nothing but tumultuous I tell you what. It’s either a real rah rah rah type environment or a total downer situation. You got your adamantly proud folks pleased to have discovered and developed and embraced their identities and traversed those landscapes of transitioning along the folks who aren’t quite sure but are hopeful. This is in direct contrast to the folks that are angry without the drive, defeated, confused and just every which way down and out. It’s a mind fuck to say the least. It’s like socializing with walking talking MDMA and Codeine. One’s really colourful and sends you on a touchy feely pride fest, the other alleviates IBS while making you drowsy. Or something.

During my time spanning coming out to where we stand today I’ve run the gamut of all the aforementioned from one end to the other and back again only to stop and start over and sit at one spot for a period then try another and then running frantically in a zig zag. I’ve hung with the folks who are totally devastated by their gender “confusion” for lack of a better word, had deep serious philosophical questions with all manner of variant politiqueer, danced side by side with the most brazen and bodacious drag queens and kings and butt heads with those who label me a loser and defeatist ‘cause I don’t pass flawlessly nor even care to do so.

The last one chaps my ass. ‘Cause I’ve never really considered myself as less than anything or anyone just ‘cause I sound like or look like or act like a dude occasionally. I used to want to pass flawlessly. When I was a kid I was intent on it. I didn’t know about transgender folk or any of that jazz but I knew I was supposed to be a chick. And somehow that translated to wanting to do ballet and wear pink and have long hair. I quit ballet ‘cause I couldn’t wear a tutu and I think I owned one pink item and my hair was always short. And believe me when I say my life wasn’t lacking because of this. In Canada we have a lovely little chain store called Value Village that’s akin to the Salvation Army I suppose as its wares are of a second hand variety for a dirt cheap price and hence it’s totally awesome. We would frequent visits there and it was a grand old time. Once I coveted a red and black dress with silver embellishments all over it. I needed it to assert my femininity at 6 years old. And it was fucking gaudy.

Like if Liberace and Elton John circa 1974 fucked and had a miracle baby that was also a unicorn and a pixie. Gaudy.

Honestly it was something you’d see at a toddler beauty pageant. It’s what little girls who yearn to be high class prostitutes would wear. This was also the last time I vocally coveted something blatantly feminine. Until I was about 22 years old and fresh out of the closet and convinced that I had to be girly to be worthy. So I laid it on thick. And reaped the rewards.

You know what a fresh out of the closet transwoman gets as “rewards”? Dudes who think you’re a freak, dudes who want to fuck you, and dudes who say they think you’re a freak but secretly want to fuck you. Within the first few years of my coming out I was propositioned more times than I can remember for illicit back alley sex with every manner of school teacher and city worker and so on. Add into the equation the fact that I’m Asian and suddenly I was VALIDATED….as a whore like cock hungry Asian with a voracious desire to walk on white guy’s backs and then plug them from behind. Really that’s the vision of the transwoman in the eyes of a large portion of dudes, the Barbie doll with a ten inch cock and a limitless libido. Or in my case Ming Lee, Barbie’s slanty eyed friend with a ten inch cock and a limitless libido. And this is from the same dudes who so adamantly claim Asian dudes have small dicks. Yet I’m supposed to be sporting 10+ inches. Really?

Fuck passing. Fuck trying to be feminine. Can’t I just be feminine ‘cause I say so? Can’t I just be femme on the merits of the fact that I say I am regardless of whether or not I wear a dress or make up or have my “I got a cunt” bumper sticker showing?

What has “femme” garnered me? A yeast infection.

PART ONE OF A TWO PART INTERVIEW 

Morty: I wanted to start by asking about the early moments in your life where you came to know how much you loved writing?

Ryka: My first inkling of this was in my childhood. I didnt have a great childhood, and I write about this a lot in my work. Writing became an escape and a place where…you know, there are no scars on the paper. It’s a fresh start, it’s beautiful. Where some people see the blank page as a question, or as a challenge I’ve always seen it as a haven, as a place where I can escape to. I’ve always had that. In college, I was pushed into the sciences, hence my bachelors degree in chemistry. My parents did not want me to be an English major one bit. I would be taking a chemistry class and on one side of the page was chemistry stuff and on the other side was poetry. But…something pushed me to apply to MFA programs, even though I knew I had absolutely no chance. Within three years of applying, I got in.

Morty: So, it was scary to move away from what your parents wanted for you?

Ryka: Oh my god, yeah. I mean, I was shaking, I had a bit of a breakdown. I worked a little bit as a lab rat but I hated it. There was this voice inside me that said, “Just keep going, you know who you are.” And eventually, if you’re lucky, you have the wherewithal to move…and I was very lucky.

Morty: Where did you get your MFA?

Ryka: At Cornell.

Morty: A very prestigious school…

Ryka: I know! The funny thing is, when I applied, I coasted into the Post Office with my 1983 Honda I paid 25 dollars for. The engine had just given out! And, as I was mailing it, I thought to myself, “Why am I here, I know I’m not getting in to Cornell”… but then I did! It was a lot of work but there was a lot of luck involved, too. Well, I always say you have to work really, really hard to get lucky because if you don’t then you bomb.

Morty: Defintely.

Ryka: At Cornell, I was still male. We didn’t even get to gender, I was the second Asian they had in the program! So, yeah, it was really wacky. It was also a very valuable experience and grounded me but was also a transition period. I still had a lot of work to do to become an honest to goodness writer in the real world. I mean an MFA doesnt give you that, it just gives you time. And some great connections, too.

Morty: So, what brought you from your MFA program to teaching?

Ryka: I’ve always loved to teach. And this might sound a little corny, but I truly believe this. When you’ve been a victim, you can do one of two things. You can either mimick the oppressor or you can turn around and say, “It stops here” and “I’m going to help others”. I suppose a part of it is..as a transwoman I’m never going to have a biological kid, and this kind of work feeds my maternal instinct but it goes beyond that. I know what its like not to have opportunities. I went to an ivy league college but I was the first one in my family to go to college! So, I’m going to go and get this information and share it with others. I don’t want to see anybody being left out. I don’t want anyone to feel that language isn’t their birthright. Also, when I’m teaching, I’m performing. I mean, think about it. I’ve got to be on stage for three hours entertaining 30 students and the material sucks because were covering subject verb agreement. So, if I can hold an audience for that long, I know that when I’m on the road performing my own work, I’ve got my chops up!

Morty: I also want to know, specifically, how you became a teacher. The process.

Ryka: Here is where Cornell and getting an MFA comes in.  For once, the good ol’ boy network worked for a queer woman of color. Knowing people, and being fortunate and luck. Connections. But it wasnt easy. I looked for work for two years and actually had to go back to chemistry for a little while before landing a job. So, even with my connections, it wasn’t easy.

Morty: So, along with writing, you always had this desire to be a performer as well? You were already writing and performing before you transitioned…

Ryka: When I began transition and started the process I realized it was a very big job and I understood I needed to not turn away from the things in my life that gave me strength. And writing was where I have always felt the strongest. My first time out as Ryka was on stage. I was at a Forward Girls showcase and they had asked me to perform. Outside of going to one or two bars, I had really never presented publicly. So, I made my debut as Ryka on stage in front of a bunch of people. And that was the most comfortable place for me to do it. I couldn’t have done it without that. For me, my work gave me a moment to process. On stage I’m processing, on stage I’m creating. Even when I’m reading a poem that I’ve already recited a bunch of times, when I’m with that audience I’m processing. I’m there. I cannot do it in any other way.

Morty: Your work facilitated the process and understanding of who you are, and were becoming…

Ryka: Yes, for sure. I knew that regardless of what I looked like on stage. How I presented, what my voice sounded like, how shaky I was… if the work was good the audience should receive it and should accept it and I knew how to control the work. You know, they could think I looked like a monster, like a man in a dress but they would have to see that I wrote a really fucking good poem. And that would get me up there. But it was fucking terrifying. I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen. But I did know that I put a huge amount of time in that poem and when I put the time into my work, good things happen.

Morty: What do you think about the trans arts? Does it feel too conforming to call yourself a “trans writer” or a “trans artist”?

Ryka: If I’m speaking as a trans artist, where I’m getting paid, it’s always a good thing. Where we can get stage time, get published and all those good things, we do it and hope that message gets through. That being said, I really cannot deny that I’m trans and I’m proud of what I’ve been through, but sometimes I would like to be called “a poet”. Because I don’t often say I’m a Japanese American writer, so I think there’s a balance that must occur. I think, also, the trans art scene is very important. Because the cis gendered community have a support system that is already in place. For the most part, their femininity or masculinity is not questioned and they can identify with each other. For trans people, we know how we identify, but we need to convince the world and, to a point, have to rid ourselves of internal transphobia. A lot of this hampers our self confidence. So, for trans artists to develop our self confidence we need our own models to point to how we want to be seen and that’s why its really important to be fostering our art scenes. It’s important, we need these spaces to grow. We cannot throw transitioning people out there and say “survive”. I mean, some of us can, those with exceptionally strong self images. And the best poets and their self images, they don’t always colate. Sometimes I see a trans person who needs a lot of help, a lot of support but when she finally ends up creating something, it’s beautiful. So, the trans art scene, to me, helps trans artists. But, more importantly, it is also making an investment in our voice by fostering this community. To go on with this: I don’t publish in too many Asian American anthologies but I am Asian. When I go to speak, for instance, at a reading for a basic literary magazine, my very prescence helps trans folks. There it is.

Morty: Would you introduce yourself as a trans artist to a group of, most likely, cis gendered, non queer, non trans crowd of individuals?

Ryka: In the writing world, many times I can’t tell them who I am. Much of the work being submitted is submitted blind. My name is the only identification.

Morty: Yes, but once you get selected. Now you’re on this stage…

Ryka: Oh, hell yeah! It’s always relevent to do so because they need to hear about you! So, if one person in the audience says “Hey, those trans people aren’t such freaks, I want to hear more, lets go see them!”, then it’s good. If who I am bugs you out then I have no interest in publishing with you. Sorry.

Morty: Yeah.

Ryka: You know how it is. When a woman comes up to me and says “Wow, I thought you were really hot, and then I found out you’re trans.” And I’m thinking to myself, ‘If you really feel that way then you’re a total idiot’. It’s the same with anthologies I’ve submitted to. You liked my work before you knew what was between my legs, now all of a sudden you don’t like it. Screw you.

Morty: I’m with you on being able to support and nuture other trans artists and be out there for other trans artists to see. To say “Hey, we’re here! And we’re doing work! Don’t be afraid to join us! Be who you are!” But, there are also moments where it can be tiring.

Ryka: The way I handle it is to not run away from the trans label, not to fight it, but to really explore it. I’m also a Judo instructor. And when there is an enemy that you cant move by pushing sometimes you have to pull and see what happens. So, it’s “okay, I’m trans.” but what does that mean? I don’t hate the trans label, I embrace and examine it. I find ways to defetishize the trans definition and go into the realm of human experience. As I come out that way, I’m hoping and trusting the audience that they see, I’m not talking about trans at all. I’m talking about how one person goes through this label that is forced upon her and uses it and works with it to create something artistic or, maybe even comes to some epiphany about the human experience. Then, at this moment, it is meaningful for anyone who is transforming: getting a new job, living in a new place, breaking up with someone. And they can take it as their own.  Many people say to me “Why do you do this, you pass.” but it’s not like that for me. I’m never going to pass as a non-trans writer. I don’t want to. But I’m also not going to make it a badge of hate. I’m going to take your expectations of me, address them, fuck with them and, in the end, take you off balance and teach you something.

Morty: So, how do you write? How do you get there?

Ryka: You get there in small steps. I get there by treating my writing like a job. I sit at my kitchen table and I write in the morning. Other people might not wake up two hours before they need to be anywhere but that isn’t how I work. I’m a writer and that’s just what I do. I’m really efficient in the morning. Whatever comes out, comes out. And if it’s not finished I just keep going. I see writing as a form of worship, too. I spend a certain amount of my day writing and reading. Once the process is in place the work will take care of itself. Then, once I have found what I believe to be the best work, I begin making drafts. I like the serenity of knowing, no matter how bad the day gets, that one part of the day is going to be a blank paper and pen and a moment, and it’s going to be good. Writing is not my adversary, it is my oasis.

Morty: What inspires you to write?

Ryka: The inspiration, for me, has always been the world around me. People…just watching portraits of life. Some are so vivid to me that I’ve got to go home and write about them. Of course, I do have bad days with writing. Which is why magazines like this are so important and community around you is so important. You need places to go and see other like-minded people and share and commiserate with them. Also, we need to stop being so competitive. Because, you know what, your success is my success and vice versa. Because, really, if you’re doing good work, someone will publish you, or, better yet, you can publish yourself! What I’m saying is, what gets you through the hard times is community and it makes me feel good knowing some trans artist somewhere is kicking ass right now. I can, for one night, be tired or doubt my skills because some other trans artist is being fierce. Competition can be good, but it has to be the kind that puts a fire in ourselves to make our own art, instead of dragging us down.

Artists have always formed ad hoc groups, that’s the way many of them work, instead of being endorsed by a large organization. There also needs to be more investment into the community. It’s always great to go to a show and say, “Yes, this stuff really inspires me.” But then you should go and put up a blog and write about it, tweet about it, make an active community. Don’t wait for others to make that community for you.

Morty: Perhaps a lot of trans people feel so disenfranchised that they don’t feel they can, or that they feel they posses a strong voice. Many might think, well, I’ll put something out there but nobody is going to look or pay attention.

Ryka: Sure, how many times have people said, “Nobody is going to pay attention, so we might as well fuck.” or “We might as well take drugs, nobody is looking anyway?” How come these behaviors are things that we do? Very few of us say, “Nobody’s looking, so I’m going to make this amazing art.” Why can’t we do it with that kind of energy? Nobody is looking anyway, we might as well form our own community.

You know, many of us don’t know how great we are, and it takes a long time to figure it out. We are the golden age, we just don’t know it. Fifty years from now people are going to look back and say, “Those people were fucking fierce, what the hell, why can’t we be like them!” The reason we can’t see it is because we’re at the epicenter. We’re making culture right now. Right now is one the best, most amazing times to be a trans artist. We are in the process of a genesis, this community, right now. I firmly believe this. There is a great creative explosion happening right now. We don’t think about it because we don’t have the time to think about it! And we all need to know this, all of us in the community need to understand that, yes, we are doing the work and making things happen.

Part two of this interview will be up next week!

To order Ryka Aoki’s new book, Seasonal Velocities, please click on the link: http://trans-genre.net/content/seasonal-velocities/

Morty: Jamie! Ready to chat?

Jamie: Yes!

Morty: How did start your career as an actor?

Jamie: I was living in Louisville, KY and I had applied for a temporary job at NationsBank which is now Bank of America. One of the interests I listed was acting and they had a video job available at the bank, a training video and that’s how I started. Well, that’s how I got back into acting but I’ve always been an actor!

Morty: What a funny story!

Jamie: Yeah, it was destined to happen.

Morty: How did your transition affect your career?

Jamie: It didn’t. By this time, I had already changed my name and was living as a man even though I hadn’t transitioned. It only made it difficult when I began doing theatre. In the dressing rooms I had to hide myself while changing. It was really embarrassing! But I was determined to get through it.

I stopped acting my freshman year in high school, but that had to do with self-esteem. I forgot my lines while doing Romeo and Juliet and I just felt worthless, like I could never be an actor because I couldn’t remember my lines. That, of course, was before TV’s Bloopers and Practical jokes came out! Watching that show I realized all actors forget their lines at one point or another!

I guess I also wasn’t interested in being an actress… so I dabbled in acting for a bit, but never jumped completely back into it until I was living as a man

Morty: Your one-man performance piece, Living Inside Myself, what year was this in the theatre?

Jamie: That was in 2004 and part of 2005. I performed it in Chicago and I also traveled with it to Philadelphia, Columbus, OH and St. Louis

Morty: Can you give me a little synopsis on what it’s about?

Jamie: It was about my life from the time I was about 3, when I discovered I was a boy, until adulthood and everything in between. This was my first one man show and a lot of it was about my experiences growing up trans.

Morty: Have you written other one man shows?

Jamie: I’m writing one now that I will be performing on June 16^th. It’s about the differences between men and women and how these differences are really dictated by society and not nature because, really, we’re all human and these restrictions affect our relationships with each other.

You’ll see 8 different characters, beginning with the stereotypes of men and women, and then 6 other characters and their opposing viewpoints of situations that they’re in and how they don’t reflect what society says about them, and how that affects their interactions with each other.

Morty: What is the title of the show? Where is it playing and for how long?

Jamie: It’s called It’s My Penis and I’ll Cry If I Want To. It’ll be playing at MPAACT Theatre’s Solo Jams on June 16th at 11pm. It’s only for one night in the solo jam festival, but I plan on having a theatre produce the show at a later date.

Morty: I hope some readers will be able to attend! So, my stock question is:  do you ever call yourself a “trans actor”?

Jamie: I do not call myself a trans actor because I’m not defined by my transsexuality. Just like I don’t call myself African American. I’m an American and I’m an actor.

Morty: Many people that read my blog are young trans, genderqueer, and gender nonconforming artists looking to begin their career. What advice would you give to them?

Jamie: Don’t ever give up, be who you are comfortable being, and always be prepared!

Morty: Bodies Of Work Magazine is about supporting transgender artists and writers who are doing their thing, so I’m really happy to be able to support your work and hope you keep me posted on your future work!

Jamie: I really appreciate you wanting to interview me. Thanks!

Morty:Thank you, Jamie!

Please check out more of Jamie Black in the following links: 

His website: http://www.jamieblack.com/

Click HERE to buy tickets to Jamie’s new show: It’s My Penis and I’ll Cry If I Want To 

Jamie’s hilarious improve videos on Youtube:

Grannyprov

Bathtub Philosopher

(Tobi Hill-Meyer) 

Morty: Hi Tobi!

Tobi: Hi!

Morty:  My first question is regarding your history as an artist. I know you’re a writer but did you make any video work before shooting sex positive porn?

Tobi: Ha! I took a film class in middle school. We recorded still images and used a pair of VCRs to essentially make a slide show to music. But not really. When I first started (making porn) I just surrounded myself with folks who already had experience. I let them be in charge of what they were doing, and learned as much as I could from them.

Morty: So, you began as a writer?

Tobi: Yeah, I started as a writer. I had an erotic fiction zine series that focused around issues in queer and trans community. Before that I was writing non-fiction

Morty: Is your erotic fiction zine still around for purchase?

Tobi: Yes, it can be purchased from handbasketproductions.biz, either as electronic downloads or as hard copies to be mailed out.

Morty: And each zine focuses on a particular story or character?

Tobi: Yes, each story focuses on a trans character. Each zine has at least one previously known character in the series, as well as new characters; so that by the time you get to the end of the series you have the story of the community, not just the individuals. And it brought in some issues around being queerspawn, dealing with transphobia in queer community, abuse, and other serious topics mixed in. Although, I only got about half way through writing the series before I started working on film and I’ve not been able to get another issue out since then, although a new one is half finished.

Morty: These zines feature only your written work, or others as well?

Tobi: Oh, well, that series is all my work, but there is “Pocket Porn Series 2 and 3” which are written by Fay Onyx, my partner. The website also features zines by Ronan, my other partner. The three of us run Handbasket Productions together.

Morty: When did Handbasket Productions start?

Tobi: It started with the first zine in the Pocket Porn series, which I believe was around 2006.

Morty: What got you from the written word to video?

Tobi: Well, I have to give major credit to the MTF_Undressed (which still exists but isn’t very active, due to photo stealing) online community, that provided a safe space for trans women to post naked pictures ourselves. And for years my friends and I had been trying to find out if there were any trans women in queer/feminist porn out there. Then, when I needed some money, I ended up doing some mainstream porn and that was when it kinda solidified for me; that there needed to be something more out there for us. I approached porn like an organizing project. Even when I didn’t have camera or editing skills, I’d find other folks who liked the idea to help out and paid what little I could.

(Doing It Ourselves DVD cover) 

Morty: When you say organizing project it brings up the context, which seems very personal and political for you. Am I wrong on this?

Tobi: Yes, it is very personal and political. I find myself inspired to focus on issues that come up for me and my community. After dealing with two abusive relationships, I wrote a story about an abusive relationship and included a couple pages at the end of trans-friendly support resources around abuse, which had taken me forever to find (trans specific domestic abuse informationcan be found at the end of this interview).

Another example is the video I created last summer, which is nominated for a Feminist Porn Award, titled Trans Women and Strap-Ons. It’s only a short film on queerporntube. The short is mostly me talking about different styles of harnesses and techniques for holding them on a trans female body (plus a short explicit example of their use). But it’s this kind of information that is not readily available. When I asked folks for information, I’d hear a lot of “Oh, I don’t think trans women would want to do that,” rather than helpful advice. Also, my zine, Trans Sexuality: A Sex Ed Guide for Trans People and Our Partners, is another example of trying to get information out there that isn’t readily available. Overall, I really am aiming to create empowering representation and provide information that otherwise isn’t out there. That’s really the main focus of my work.

Morty: Being someone who has made trans porn, it can be somewhat daunting to put this type of work out there. Did you ever feel a bit of concern about doing it?

Tobi: Certainly. I think I got a good chance to get my nervousness out through MTF_Undressed, and after doing mainstream porn I got over most of it. I mean, if I was going to bare my body for folks I didn’t know and probably wouldn’t like, why not do it for my own community? Still, there are issues that come up now and then. The strap on video was the first time I had my genitals visible in an online video you don’t have to pay for. Sure enough, some anti-trans activists found it and posted a link for everyone to point and laugh. There’s an anti-trans blog that’s scrounging the internet for independent/queer/feminist porn featuring trans women so they can re-post it (without permission of course) as proof that we are not really women. Ironically, if I had only ever done mainstream porn, I doubt I would have been in their crosshairs.

Morty:That’s very disheartening to hear. As most know, there is still this enormous body of videos from the mainstream porn world exploiting transfeminine bodies. Yet, I hear about your work and the work of many other transwomen in porn, and it makes me think things are changing. Are they?

Tobi: There’s currently a significant push from trans women in mainstream porn to be given more respect and control within the industry at large. A lot of them are setting up their own websites instead of just working for the major production companies. That puts them in an interesting position of still catering to the same audiences, but having more control over what they do and how they represent themselves. I think it’s a move that needs to be supported. The more mainstream trans porn consumers can see those representations the better. I think a lot of consumers are purely ignorant and assume that what terms the industry uses and how the industry presents porn to them is close to how trans women see ourselves. Disrupting that and providing some education will help. 
But ultimately, it’s hard to imagine these problems ever going away completely. I mean, look at all the awesome feminist/queer and dyke-made porn being made, some of it making it’s way into the mainstream. Yet, “girl-on-girl” porn, that is designed to meet straight male fantasies rather than to represent how queer women actually have sex, is still way more popular and profitable.

Morty: So, lets discuss how to make hot, sex positive trans porn. Can you give readers a peak into how you produced your movies?

Tobi: Well, one of the hardest things to work out was pay. I couldn’t afford to pay even the comparatively low rates standard in queer/feminist porn. I had some folks offering to work for the experience with no pay, but I felt strongly that I didn’t want to depress wages or take away paying work from an already underpaid industry. I paid what I could, but that definitely slowed me down. Since becoming well known, I have a lot more people offering to perform for me than I can afford to pay. So, I’ve recently come to a new model of working on things where I will still pay standard rates for any budgeted project, but I’ll also do additional scenes that are set up on a “I’ll pay you when/if I use the scene in something.” I’m hoping this will allow me to shoot a lot more, and then have a library of unused footage that I can put together for projects as money comes in.

Of course, I also cut corners a lot of ways with donated space, friends helping out for small things that needed to be done, shooting in houses, borrowing a camera, and things such as that. When there’s a community of folks who want to see a project come to fruition it can be incredibly powerful. It’s still really up in the air, but I’m looking into doing a crowdfunding campaign in July for my next film.

Morty: I think that’s a great idea.

Tobi: It’s tricky because Kickstarter won’t do anything involving sex. Indiegogo will allow it, but you can’t use Paypal because they don’t allow you to use their service for sex related projects. Also, one of the largest costs is DVD production. But as everyone is moving to more of an online distribution model, it’s possible that will go away. Right now, DVD production is at least half of the budget for my projects.

Morty: Yeah, I personally see DVD’s being phased out in the next 5-10 years but not anytime soon. Why do you think there is a dearth of porn showing transwomen as sexy, beautiful people you’d wanna mess around with, in a sex positive way? In my opinion, there are still so few transwomen in sex positive indie porn.

Tobi: When I talk with other directors about it their response is kinda “I cast who is around in my community.” The reality is that trans women are not as present, and often not as welcome, in sex positive queer community. Also, when trans women are included, there are a lot of queer folks in the audience who don’t like it. Courtney Trouble has told me of screenings where members of the audience complained that trans women were present. There are a number of reasons for that, and we’re beginning to have some good conversations about it, but it’s probably too much to get into right now.

Morty: Sure, I understand. But that irritates the heck out of me to hear. Which transwoman do you believe is one of the biggest and best in the industry?

Tobi: I’d undoubtedly point to Drew Deveaux. Her first work in porn was in Doing it Ourselves: The Trans Women Porn Project. She’s managed to be in a dozen or more films since then, won the 2011 Feminist Porn Award for Heartthrob of the Year, and has also worked in more mainstream productions.

(Drew Deveaux) 

Morty: Yes, I’m very familiar with Drew. For me, she is one of the best performers I’ve ever seen, trans or not.

Tobi: She was also the first trans woman actor for Girlfriends Films, and they even put out a press release about it.

Morty: When was that?

Tobi: Not too long ago, sometime in the past 6 months I believe.

Morty: Tell me about linking up with Courtney Trouble - is this just for distribution?

Tobi: Well, as of now, all of my films are being distributed through her TROUBLEFilms. We’ve gotten more and more opportunities to talk and strategize together. It started with technical advice to each other. There’s a huge amount of information to pick up in this industry and directors need to have a cursory knowledge of it all, so we consult each other a lot. We’ve talked about doing a scene together or trading performances in each others films. And we’re both willing to lend each other a hand when it’s needed. So things are up in the air, but I’m sure we’ll be collaborating more in the future.

Morty: Sounds great. I know you are also a performer and a writer for places like the Bilerico Project. Do you have future plans for any and all of these endevours?

Tobi: Well, I’m currently working on a project that will be an animated version of my first Pocket Porn story. I’ll be taking still photography and giving it motion, with a little bit of film mixed in, along with narration and voice-overs from the story. And I’ve been kicking around ideas for a Doing it Ourselves sequel in the next year or two.

Morty: Please keep me updated with your animated short. And, suffice to say, I’d be the first to send you some funds for a sequel to Doing it Ourselves, should you decide to make it. Is there anything else you’d like to add?

Tobi: One thing that’s really exciting right now is that I no longer feel like I’m the only one doing this. Not only has Drew’s work taken off, but more and more trans women are stepping up to make their own vision of porn. And that’s been really inspiring. The one thing I’ll close with is a reminder to anyone starting up their own porn production: I’m always available to give advice (it just might take a while for me to get back to you).

Morty: Yes! What is the best way to reach you?

Tobi: Tobi@handbasketproductions.com works great.

Morty: Perfect, thank you so much for the interview!

Tobi: Definitely!

Links to Tobi Hill-Meyer’s work:

Doing it Ourselves - Trans Women Porn Project

Trans Sexuality: A Safe Sex Guide for Trans People and Their Partners

New animation project, Escaping the Gender Police

The Bilerico Project 

Tobi on Twitter

Transgender specific domestic abuse information:

The Network / La Red 

http://tnlr.org/

Hotline 617-742-4911

English/Spanish bilingual, displays queer, trans, and kink

symbols on their webpage.

Communities United Against Violence (CUAV) – CA

http://www.cuav.org/

Hotline 415-333-HELP (4357)

CUAV is a multicultural, anti-oppression organization working to end

violence against and within our diverse lesbian, gay, bisexual,

transgender, queer, and questioning (LGBTQQ) communities.

We believe that in order to end homophobia and heterosexism,

we must confront all forms of oppression, including racism,

sexism, ageism, classism, and ableism.

Morty: The first question is a two-in-one. When did you know you wanted to become a writer? Are you more a writer or poet or do both words appeal to you?

Oliver: “Writer” is functionally correct, of course, but “poet” feels more true to my heart. I worked for a year as a technical writer at a federal agency in Washington,DC. That was writing, sure, but it wasn’t poeming. So I like to get specific about it. And I’m not sure I knew I wanted to be a writer. Maybe what came first is that I knew I wanted to write. The “being a writer” part followed. I’ve always written, but it was kind of a process of realizing that I could just do that and take it seriously.

Morty: Can you tell us about the MFA program you’re in? How did getting the Martha Meier-Renk Graduate Fellowship come about?

Oliver: The MFA program at the University of Wisconsin-Madison is such a gem. I seriously don’t have enough good things to say about it. It’s small—there are just six of us poets. The fellowship relieves me of my teaching duties for next year, and while I love teaching and will miss it, I’m also so excited for the gift of extra time to write the best poems I can possibly write, and to complete my MFA thesis, which will be a book-length manuscript of poems that obsess over gender, hybridity, identity, and language.

Morty: On your website it says you teach creative writing. Where do you teach and is teaching everything you thought it would be?

Oliver: I teach at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Teaching is great fun; I’ve enjoyed it so much. This past year, I’ve designed and taught a section of Introduction to Creative Writing, which at UW is a class for sophomores. I’ve written more about teaching here at Original Plumbing.

Morty: Do you consider yourself a “trans poet/writer”? Tell me why or why not? Does it feel too limiting?

Oliver: This is such a great and big question! If we look at the prefix trans- which means, “across, beyond, through, so as to change,” then who wouldn’t want to be a trans poet? For me, in poetry, there must be movement, some kind of tension, and I see my trans experience as deeply informing that. I don’t find it limiting at all. I find it greatly expansive. For me, this expansiveness comes from the specific ways in which I understand the words “queer” and “trans”—as referring not only specifically to sexual orientation and gender identity, though of course they describe that, too, but also to all things strange, odd, boundary-defying, and so forth. So, while I can identify with ease as a queer writer or a trans writer, identifying as a “homosexual writer” or an “FTM writer” might make less sense to/for me, because my relationship to those words is different.

I’m still just beginning to think this through, and it’s possible that I might answer this question differently in the future. We are supposed to fear being pigeonholed; we are not supposed to be an identity poet. I try to write poems that people can connect with, can have an experience with, whether or not they are trans, but I’m also not interested in going the Edward Albee route and pretending that my trans experience hasn’t greatly informed what I want to do with language. Much of what I’m interested in relates to queer and trans poetics—imagination, futurity, genre, shame…. in language, really, and in queer and trans ways of doing punctuation and grammar and form.

There’s nothing wrong with identifying as a trans writer. People get so afraid of that. The truth, I think, is that it’s both/and. The prefix doesn’t make us any less of a writer. I don’t want to make an authoritative declaration about this, though. I understand that there are writers who identify as queer or trans but don’t link that to their writing, and there’s got to be space for that, too.

Morty: I really love Glitter Tongue as a place for queer/trans poetry to thrive online. I’ve gone back to the site many times to reread poems which resonated with my own love life. What was the impetus to start Glitter Tongue?

Oliver: Thank you! Glitter Tongue began, really, with a Facebook update that the fabulous queer poet Margaret Rhee posted—something about how queer love is so good but so hard. And I responded and we decided, with a few others, to write queer love poems that week and share them with each other. I was so moved and excited to read their poems that I wanted to expand the project, to have more people write queer love poems and more people read them. And that became Glitter Tongue. I’ve been so excited by the response.

Morty: Where do you think trans literature is headed? Do you see a shift occurring?

Oliver: There’s this quote by Trish Salah, from an essay I read recently titled “In Lieu of a Transgender Poetics”: “Back to the word transgenre, and the genre of trans, writing. It isn’t quite yet one. But like most things that are only partly there we can imagine its future or past shape.” I like thinking of it in this way. I don’t know that I can say where trans literature is headed, but I know that it is heading, is in motion, and that excites me greatly.

Is trans yet a genre? I don’t want “trans literature” to be its own, isolated genre—I want it to inform all the genres, and even more so, I want it to inform the way we think about genre, which is really just another system of categories. I think we’re at a point in time where trans literature is beginning to be written, in glimpses. Trans literature is nascent and therefore brimming with possibility, and I can’t wait to see where we take it.

Morty: Who are some of your favorite trans, genderqueer, gender variant, intersex, etc.  writers/poets?

Oliver: Where do I start? I’ll take the easy way out and refer you to the forthcoming anthology of trans and genderqueer poets, edited by tc tolbert and Trace Peterson, which will have poems and poetics statements from fifty poets. In addition, at AWP this year I went to the Gender Interrupted reading, which featured the poets Stacey Waite, Sam Ace, Ely Shipley, and Joy Ladin, who are all doing really exciting and important work. The reading was packed to the brim—AWP has got to start giving bigger rooms to the queer and trans panels! Or maybe it’s fitting that way—our critical mass/gorgeous excess was so inspiring.

Morty: What advice would you tell aspiring trans writers about the decision to go to school to study writing?

Oliver: If you feel like you must write, if you have tried to do other things and can’t, if you have tried to talk yourself out of it and can’t, then you should maybe consider getting your MFA. More and more these days—many people still don’t know this—there are programs that will pay you to attend and write and be in workshops and teach. It’s the gift of time, yes, but it’s also building a community and having readers and being a reader and allowing yourself to be immersed in your craft for a few years. That’s a pretty amazing thing.

But if you can’t, or won’t, get an MFA for whatever reason, you’re not out of luck. Writers since time immemorial have held down day jobs. Whether or not you go to school for writing, my advice would be to read as widely as you can. And write. And don’t self-destruct.

Bio: Oliver Bendorf is an MFA candidate at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he teaches creative writing and serves as Editor-in-Chief ofDevil’s Lake. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from Ninth Letter, PANK, Anti-, The Journal, and elsewhere, and his work was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. The recipient of fellowships from the Lambda Literary Foundation and the New York State Summer Writers Institute, he also writes for Original Plumbing magazine. Please visit: oliverbendorf.com 

(Sean Dorsey - Photo by Lydia Daniller) 

Sean: Hi Morty!

Morty: Hi Sean! Are you ready?

Sean: I am.

Morty: When were your earliest moments of thinking ‘I’d like to be a professional dancer’?

Sean: I always loved dance with every cell and bone in my body, but did not see myself ever having a career in dance. I performed as an actor and did a lot of theater and music as a kid. It wasn’t until I was in graduate school (Masters in Community Economic Development) that I considered tearing myself away from my “serious” activism to let myself take a “year off” and go to dance school. I started dancing professionally almost right away - but even then didn’t realize what was happening to my life! That is, my life became beautifully taken over with dance before I could get in the way and stop it…

Morty: That sounds like a very sweet story.

Sean: But I certainly never saw any role models of queer, gender-variant or queer dancers out there that made me think that my body dancing professionally was possible….

Morty: So, looking for differently gendered bodies in dance was part of the impetus to stick with it?

Sean: While so much of my soul and identity and heart has been wrapped up in what we traditionally call ‘activism’, truly the ‘impetus’ for me dancing was that I loved to dance, loved dance, was moved by dance and felt it moved me (and people) viscerally like no other medium could. This was also at the core impetus for making my own work — I was passionate about telling body-stories and about pairing text and dancing and queer/trans experience right from the start.  Because of this there was an issue with the director of my dance school. She pulled me in to her office after a showcase of student work and told me my queer duet made people feel “uncomfortable”! Part of my impetus for making work certainly was that I didn’t see my community’s stories or bodies on the stage or in any dances I saw or knew of. A lonely place for sure at that time.

Morty: She made you feel like an outcast for the queer content of your work?

Sean: The Director of the school didn’t mention anything about the queer content of the work — but she was definitely saying between the lines: this queer subtext, this queer text (literally queer text and narration in the sound score) makes us uncomfortable. I felt lonely because I didn’t know anybody else in the whole world who was like me, who either danced or made dances.

Morty: It sounds like, from the beginning, you were able to see, first hand, how charged art can be for some people — do you see making your art as political?

Sean: First and foremost, I see myself as a professional artist who has a broad, diverse audience of both activists and mainstream dance-lovers. This is important to me, that my work reach and speak to all of these people. I do see my art as political, and I do consider myself a cultural activist. I have learned that making dances (and running Fresh Meat Productions, my nonprofit that presents year-round transgender and queer arts programs) is the most powerful and effective form of activism I can offer the world.

Right from the beginning I began to understand how charged and how political art is. People can have a knee-jerk or defensive reaction when they hear that a piece of art is “political”. But here’s the thing: all art is political! Because all art has a point of view — whether it’s conscious of it or not. The problem is just that a lot of art is not honest about either a) its point of view or b) the vantage point of the art-maker. So, if the art is about / from the perspective of straight, white, able-bodied, legally documented, etc, people … then that can be beautiful art, but it runs a greater risk of not being conscious of its own vantage point.

This is why I love trans and queer art! Art that comes from trans, queer, people of color, immigrant, people with disabilities communities often comes from artists who have had to think so much about their place in the world (or lack thereof). There is a gorgeous depth and consciousness that we can reach, I think, more easily than other folks.  

Morty: How do you stay conscious of your own vantage point in your work?

Sean: I would like to say that things have changed faster than they actually have but ….. I am still often painfully aware of my own vantage point in my work as a trans and queer artist because there are still so few of us. When I moved to San Francisco I was like “Yes! I’m coming to where all the trans dancers must be.” And then it was like being the first person to arrive at the party. Awkward! Scary!

Morty: So you didn’t meet any other trans dancers when you began in San Francisco?

Sean: Indeed. I arrived here and was so excited to meet my peers….and I literally didn’t meet another trans-identified dancer until years later. I was thrilled, however, to meet transgender writers, theater artists and musicians. Well, thrilled is an understatement since I met and married a particularly gifted musician: Shawna Virago. I think that there are actually lots of transpeople who are dancers, in their hearts and minds and spirits - but the world is still such that it is very unsafe for gender non-conforming people to even think about setting foot in a dance class, yoga class, gym, dance show. Going to these places assumes a level of personal power, cultural power, personal confidence and physical safety that most trans and genderqueer people don’t have. I teach beginning dance classes geared especially for transgender and genderqueer and queer people (and their friends). I haven’t taught any in the Bay Area, I mostly do it on tour, but I should bring this to the Bay!

(Shawna Virago - Photo by Lydia Daniller) 

Morty: Yes! You really should! Can you give readers, for those who aren’t aware who your wife is, a little “Shawna Virago 101”?

Sean: My love, my partner Shawna Virago is someone that your readers will want to know! Shawna is a genius singer-songwriter - she’s a transwoman, a brilliant guitarist and singer. She is sexy as hell, and a fierce pioneering activist. Her songs are a powerful fusion of Americana, folk-punk and roots. She is a very passionate, powerful woman and her songs explore many sides of trans and queer experience: police abuse, love and relationships, objectification, road songs…. She is genius and should be checked out right now! (Go to www.shawnavirago.com). You can buy her new album “Objectified” on her website, too. Shawna is also a writer and a filmmaker, whose films have screened around the world. And she is the Director of the San Francisco Transgender Film Festival! And she composes for my own work. How does she do it all? She is a Renaissance Goddess…

Morty: That is a jaw-dropping description!

Sean: Shawna also performs in my new show ‘The Secret History Of Love‘ - she is our very special musical guest and she nails it!

Morty: Alright, this is what I really want to talk about. Your new performance - The Secret History Of Love - please give us a little peak…how did you begin and get inspiration from?

Sean: The Secret History Of Love is a full-length dance-theater show that reveals the ways that LGBT people manage to find — and LOVE — each other in decades past. The show is based on oral histories I recorded with LGBT elders, as well as 2 years of archival research and a lot of reading!  The show is jam-packed with luscious, full-bodied dancing; theater; storytelling and gorgeous music (I work with a brilliant team of composers). You could call my work “choreo-telling”: we dance to music and also to stories and narration. This is not abstract “I-don’t-get-it” modern dance. These are real stories rooted in real people, real characters, real emotions. Powerful and understandable! And moving! You hear the actual voices of these amazing LGBT elders in the soundscore.

I started working on this show during my last production ‘Uncovered: The Diary Project’ which also explored historic themes. It featured excerpts from real-life diaries of trans and queer people. The centerpiece dance “Lou” was based on the lifelong journals of pioneering transman Lou Sullivan, who died of AIDS in 1991. Themes of loss were an important part of the show but were especially intense for me, since I spent a year reading and hand-transcribing Lou’s diaries. As I got to know him more, and came closer to what I knew was his impending decline and death, the depth of the loss was very intense for me. And then expressing that every night in the show! And on tour…I was ready for love! Actually, there was a lot of love in that show too, but I was ready for more love!

I also am inspired by the fact that I am in a loving, creative, mindful, artistic relationship….Shawna and I just celebrated our ten year anniversary! So I was ready to explore love, and uncover our buried history of how on Earth we queer and trans people managed to meet and love and connect through all those decades of intense repression and violence….And to share our love and our victories!

(Still from Sean’s new show: The Secret History Of Love - Photo by Lydia Daniller) 

Morty: You put so much time into the research aspect of The Secret History Of Love, its really astonishing. And you seem to love storytelling from a historical perspective. Why does the preservation of LGBT history means so much?

Sean: The Secret History Of Love is truly a labour of love. It is the culmination of a two-year research process and my national LGBT Elders Oral History Project. Yes! This process has been long and enormous, larger than I even imagined.
I am passionate about documenting, preserving and sharing LGBT history: it’s up to us to do this, because no one else will. Our lives, our bodies, our stories, our history are generally left out of family albums and history books. And yet: we are amazing, powerful, creative, passionate, zany, brilliant, trailblazing, loving people! Our stories and bodies and lives are wonderful, inspiring, glorious, mundane, and extraordinary. Future generations deserve to know about us all. And our ancestors deserve us remembering them.

It is shocking how much we forget already — how much things have changed. And we forget our leaders and quiet heroes. These people made my life possible, and made my art-making possible. It feels like a glorious circle that I can now honor these voices, people, stories, history in my own work. History is also very much alive and relevant today - so many of these stories are very timely, and all are very relevant to the lives and struggles and victories we have today.

Morty: That was a great answer, I couldn’t agree more. So, I have to ask. I hope you don’t mind that I do…. How do you make it work in your relationship with Shawna? Your relationship is so strong and loving and ten years is quite a long time! You two are also extremely busy!

Sean: Oh my yes, we have a lot going on! And, no, I don’t mind this question at all! We are both working artists - we are constantly creating, performing and touring. We also both run nonprofits in the arts. What makes it work is: that we are both crazy in love with each other (more so every day); that we both approach relationship as a “practice” — something to do mindfully, consciously, lovingly; that we both are spiritual beings and embrace meditation and mindfulness as core practices of our life; that we are both political beings, our politics are at our hearts’ core — and that we so closely share our political points of view; that we are passionate about both passion and fun and make sure to practice both of those; that we both have physical practices that both keep us in our bodies and keep us healthy (exercise, dance, yoga, cardio, etc); that we are both mindful of what we ingest (food, drink, information, media); that she is so so so damn sexy!

Morty: Whoa… I’m going to reread that a few times. That was beautiful. Ok, last few questions – my stock question is: do you call yourself a “trans artist” or does that feel too limiting?

Sean: Well, I am proudly transgender, and I am proudly an artist - so I feel very comfy calling myself a ‘trans artist’. I don’t tend to say that — I probably say more often that I’m a choreographer and than I’m transgender…

Morty: Last one: What would you say to new and upcoming trans, queer, gender variant, intersex artists?

Sean: What I would say to new trans/queer artists wanting to get started with their art: YES! DO IT! You are important and beautiful and the world needs your voice! Never mind if you’re the only person you know like you, or if you don’t have any confidence! The most important thing is to START. Then: the most important thing is to start a practice. You have to make regular time for your creative self! It doesn’t have to be at the same time every day or every week, but you must block out time on your calendar (or phone or gizmo) to you and to either art-making, or dreaming, or research, or going to the record store and being inspired by music, or doodling. 

We ARE important enough to make art…and we are important enough to push ourselves to make good art. We deserve to be demanding of ourselves that we work hard, hone our skills, hone our craft, get feedback, and challenge ourselves to grow and learn as artists.

Morty: Sean, you rock! I really am looking forward to seeing your new show!

Sean: Morty, you rock! Oh, how you rock! I am so glad you are in the world and making glorious art and community!

Morty: Thank you, Sean!

Sean: Thank you so much!

To buy tickets to Sean’s new show and to see more of his work please visit: www.seandorseydance.com

If you can, please donate to Sean’s IndieGoGo to help fund his new work, The Secret History Of Love: http://www.indiegogo.com/THE-SECRET-HISTORY-OF-LOVE

Watch the video trailer for Sean’s new show: THE SECRET HISTORY OF LOVE!  

Shawna Virago’s website: www.shawnavirago.com

Kortney: Hi.

Morty: Hey!

Kortney: How are you?

Morty: I’m wonderful, and you?

Kortney: Excellent.

Morty: So, I wanted to first ask you about your film, Still Black.

Kortney: Sounds good.

Morty: What got you interested in making Still Black?

Kortney: I wanted to make the film because there was, and continues to be, a dearth of trans representation that deals with black bodies. Still Black was produced in 2008.  Around that time there began to be a boom of trans narratives making their way into both mainstream and indie media but they centered on the experiences of white folks. I wanted to hear other perspectives. I was 27 years old when I began production on the project and it was a moment in my life where I was moving away from the “genderqueer” identity and becoming more comfortable with my trans ID. So there was also a personal reason I wanted to make the film.

Morty: How did you go about finding the men for the film?

Kortney:  I was living in Chicago at the time and put the word out through queer organizations in the city. I also ran a very popular blog at the time called blac(k)ademic, which helped to publicize my call for participants. I had no problem finding willing subjects as I was flooded with emails and phone calls from men who desired to participate. Word of mouth also helped a lot.

Morty: I really enjoy the different perspectives in the film - did you go about looking at each story in the way they blended together?

Kortney: I wanted to bring a diversity of voices into the picture. I wanted to make it very clear that although as black men we share similar experiences navigating the world, at the same time, our experiences are very unique and important. I think as a filmmaker producing images of blackness it is very important for me to avoid monolithic narratives of identity.

Morty: I’m curious what the men in the film thought of the movie

Kortney: They loved it and continue to be very grateful for the opportunity. When beginning the project, one of the players, Ethan Young, emphasized how timely and important the project was. This was left out of the final film, but to express his support of the film, he got the title tattooed on the back of his head.

Morty: Wow! I love that!

Kortney: Yes, it was amazing. We both eventually got tattoos that night.

Morty: So, now it’s 2012. How far do you think we’ve come in shedding more light on trans people of color? Both in the mainstream media and beyond?

Kortney: I think things are moving along—much slower than I would like, of course. However, I am grateful for the many folks who are really doing the work of making trans folks of color visible. Whether that be through the simple platform of YouTube or big film projects.

Morty: You’re seeing a lot of visibility on Youtube?

Kortney: Actually, for trans folks of color, YouTube is a very powerful space.

Morty: I want to talk more with you about new media in a minute. Getting back to your film – you have screened it in dozens of festivals and universities, as well as won a few awards. What has this experience done for you?

Kortney: It has done so many things. Mainly it has only proven what I already knew: that there is an urgency and desire for audiences of all types to know alternative black stories; to be introduced to an image of black men that they are not used to. I also think that the film has helped me to grow as an image maker. As you know, being an artist makes you so vulnerable to public critique and having the film travel to so many places and interpreted by so many people has made me so much wiser.

Morty: Has it opened other possibilities for you as an artist?

Kortney: It’s been really helpful in terms of my work as a scholar. I’ve been able to be seen as an “expert” in my field in a way that traditional academic work cannot do.

Morty: What are your fields in academia?

Kortney: African American studies and Performance studies. The film has made an important intervention in both considering there is but a handful of work aimed at black trans folks in the academy. The film has been able to travel in a way that boring academic papers cannot.

Morty: I agree, depending on the audience.  Black trans history in academia is not well publicized - can you discuss with me some basics?

Kortney: Basics as in..?

Morty: Those in academia working on black trans academic work?

Kortney: I know that Enoch Page has done some sociological work on the black transgender experience and produced an article. Also, my mentor, E. Patrick Johnson in his book Sweet Tea, interviews a black transwoman. But there is little to any academic attention given to us. I think it is because the field of African American studies has been concerned with a revisionist history that attempts to return humanity to black individuals but does so in a way that promotes black respectability—or a conservative way of looking at blackness. Many scholars who do work on queer identity have a hard time introducing scholarship that goes beyond what the field is used to—gay/lesbian or straight. While in my department in Northwestern, I was working with top scholars who, though might have some understanding of gender theory, were blown away with the idea that one could transition.

Morty: The conservative nature of African American studies is an impediment to discussing trans anything?

Kortney: In my opinion, scholars of the field truly struggle with incorporating trans theory in their work. To be clear, I say this not to imply that black folks are more homophobic/transphobic. In terms of the academy, the field of African American studies and its politics of respectability continue to marginalize the experiences of queer individuals, especially those who are trans. It’s taboo, still, in 2012.

Morty: Do you feel a part of your work is to combat this?

Kortney: Yes, of course. Being who I am as a person has made it difficult navigating through a field that excludes my experience. I find it an obligation to challenge this and to encourage others to think beyond themselves. I want the field of AFAM to “catch up” to other disciplines that include heavy gender/sexuality/race analysis.

Morty: You hold a PhD from Northwestern. Have you or are you going to be professing?

Kortney: I’ve decided that being a professor in the academy is not the path I want to take. I want to be able to fully commit to my artistic practice and going through the stress of applying to and suffering through the academic job market is so unappealing to me.

Morty: Right.

Kortney: The degrees I have really help people to take my art more seriously. It works very well on that level.

Morty: Let’s talk about your work beyond Still Black. What direction have you gone since making the film?

Kortney: Post Still Black, I worked on a couple of my own short experimental films. I’ve also began to take photography seriously and had my own show recently here in Oakland. Right now, I’m actually in pre-production of a film with a trans protagonist.

Morty: Wonderful, I’d love to hear more!

Kortney: The film is set in the gritty warehouse district of West Oakland and follows a young black male trans musician and his struggles with dating and love. With the amazing response of the film Pariah and the obvious thirst for black narrative films that introduce black queer identities to mainstream audiences, I know that it is a perfect time more than any to produce this project for the big screen

Morty:How will you go about funding?

Kortney: I plan to follow the same grassroots fundraising as I did with Still Black. This was before Kickstarter and Indigogo were so popular. I solicited funds online to produce Still Black and I hope to go the same way with PASSION (the name of the film).

Morty: Please do send me the information when you begin fundraising, so I can help get the word out. I have a stock question I always ask artists and writers: Do you call yourself a “trans artist/filmmaker” or does that feel too limiting?

Kortney: It depends on the context. I get asked a similar question as to whether I call myself a black artist or just an artist, too. I think for all of us with identities on the margin, what we call ourselves depends on what we need at the moment and what political act we want to convey. When the moment arises that I need to identify as trans in relation to my art, I do. But primarily, I call myself an artist in the spaces that will allow me to be just that.

Morty: What advice would you give to young trans artists today?

Kortney: I think it is important to let people know that trans visibility is multifaceted and that every perspective and voice is so important. No matter what the current hot academic trend is, there is no “right” way to be trans, just as there is no “right” way to just be. I think many people forget that.

Morty: Since you’ve seen the need to shed more light on black trans voices what can we do to accomplish this?

Kortney: We all need to actively do our research. I think for many people, they want the stories and narratives to find them. But that’s not the reality of our world. Yes, there are lots of black trans folks telling stories on Youtube but unless you look for it maybe you won’t know. I just think we all need to be more responsible and seek out what we don’t know or think doesn’t exist.

Morty: Is it possible, in your opinion, to build a strong community online?

Kortney: For sure. I’m 31 and have spent the majority of my life online. I know that had I not encountered the many voices of young black transguys on YouTube 5 years ago I probably wouldn’t be sitting here being interviewed by you. Online community building has changed my life for the better

Morty: With regard to doing our research, I’m really interested in a list of black trans art, literature and culture that has inspired you, including Youtube accounts you like.

Kortney: There is the work of brooklyn boihood, which I really respect. Also, Black Transmen Inc. is a new organization doing an important job of connecting folks with resources. Though they are not an arts organization, they are dedicated to showcasing the work of black trans individuals in all capacities. One cat who has inspired me so deeply is a young man much younger than myself who has a very popular YouTube following, his name on the site is Laidbaqq. He made an artistic video about his identity and it continues to move and remind me of why I chose to transition. I am a fan of his.

Morty: How about black transfemale artists, writers or Youtubers?

Kortney: I am in love with Diamond Stylz—another YouTube personality but she does comic videos and serious videos and all kinds of videos. I also appreciate the work of Monica Roberts - not a fiction writer but she keeps more mainstream audiences aware of black trans folks through her online publications.

Morty: Yeah, I read Transgriot, her blog. How about movies?

Kortney: The film UPeople came out around the same time Still Black was out. I respect that they included Ignacio and Tiq. I really love that one.

Morty: Any others?

Kortney: Not that I know of. Ignacio has made some work I like but I haven’t seen much else.

Morty:Hopefully this little interview will light some fires of inspiration.

Kortney: Hopefully! Because I wanna see and read more!

Morty: Yes! I do too.

Kortney: Word. Thanks again, Morty. Have a good night.

Morty: You too! Thank you so much for the interview.

For more information about the movie Still Black and other work by Kortney Ryan Zeigler please visit the following links: 

http://www.kortneyrziegler.net/

Trailer for Still Black

Morty: Hi Arden. Are you ready to chat?

Arden: Sure!

Morty: My first question has to do with your work…how did you decide writing would be the thing you would dedicate yourself to. 

Arden: I fought the idea of being a writer at first. This might have been in part because I thought I was going to be a medical doctor (like a dermatologist or something)  

Morty: Really!

Arden: Yup. The gender neutrality of “Doctor” also might have appealed to me on a subconscious level.Eventually, I realized that in any career I thought of for myself, I saw myself writing. I realized what a large space writing had in my passions. It was just bigger than a lot of my other life ideas.  I actually never took creative writing classes in college although I did write a chapbook of poems for an independent study and again for my undergraduate thesis.  I quickly dropped the pre med major. I didn’t like the science classes or blood and guts.

Morty: And now you’re in a PhD program?

Arden: Yes, out on the prairie.  I got my Masters of Fine Arts in poetry from Hollins University but, because I still like the critical components of writing, I decided to pursue a PhD.

Morty: Have you always had an interest in writing?

Arden: The signs were there before I made the switch in school. In my advanced biology class in high school I wrote a paper that focused on the stereotype of the “evil albino” in literature and culture. I think I titled it the social consequences of albinism or something “very scientific”.  I’ve always written poetry. Eventually I branched out into creative non fiction and fiction..and erotica. Poetry is what I’m working on the most in my PhD program.

Morty: Because you’re getting a Phd, does that mean you want to teach? 

Arden: Absolutely.  I’m currently teaching in addition to taking classes, so that’s a tough load.  I’m looking forward to teaching at the college level after I graduate. Teaching writing while I am writing feel very complementary to me.  Having enough time to be the kind of teacher I want to be and still produce, publish, and keep up with the work of other writers can be tricky but I’m learning.  I have and have had many great teachers as mentors.

Morty: Poetry can be very hard for people - what do you say to those who find poetry hard to “get”?

Arden: There might be multiple meanings behind a poem. Also, the language can just be delicious on the tongue… I think in my own poems I try to tie language and imagery to some element of narrative.

Morty: Yeah, I see that in a lot of your work.

Arden: There is still poetry I don’t get. Sometimes this does prevent me from enjoying the poem.

Morty: Well, I love poetry. I tend to enjoy the more narrative stuff.

Arden: Yeah, I love hearing a story.

Morty: Some of your work focuses on disability. Can you talk to me about that?

Arden: I write from the perspective of a bi-polar person. This has connected me to other kinds of disability and crip communities. I also tend to have crip lovers and write about relationships so disability appears in that approach as well. Recently, I’ve been focusing on formal poetry (sonnets and sestinas mostly) about disability. There is an appealing connection there between human form and poetic form. Some of my poems are explicitly about disability but even the ones that are not are filtered through my experiences of disability. It works the same way with gender and sexuality in my work as well.

Morty: Right, which brings us to some of my questions about gender.

Arden: Dun dun dun!

Morty: Ha ha! Yes! First, how do you identify regarding gender?

Arden: I primarily identify as “genderqueer.” I also use “transgender.” Sometimes to keep it simple (or try to) I use “FTM” but then I get really caught up in qualifying. I also identify as a femme. In terms of pronouns, I prefer “ze” and “hir” but function primarily with “he” and “him.” Pronouns stress me out a little when I’m writing my bio.

Morty: When did you begin to identify as such?

Arden: I had the ideas as a kid and started finding words in college.

Morty: Since this is a magazine about gender variant and trans artists/writers I always ask “Do you identify as a “genderqueer writer”? Or “trans writer”? Or does that feel way too limiting?

Arden: It doesn’t feel limiting. Gender is an important part of what I write about and also a huge piece of myself as a writer. I’ve been heavily influenced by strong women writers which I think is a direct result of having been raised as a girl. My 9’th grade English teacher called me her little Sylvia (Plath).  I’ve cheered up some. I think being trans has also helped expose me to the work of trans poets like Ely Shipley, Stacey Waite, and Trish Salah. I don’t think being a trans or a genderqueer poet means that my work is not relevant to cispeople or to the larger communities of writing.

Morty: Have you found a trans/queer poetry community?

Arden: I’m a little isolated out here in Nebraska but I’m still connected to a writing community in Boston. When I lived there Toni Amato, who runs Write Here Write Now, played a large role in connecting me and other writers to community as well as connecting writers to their craft. Google and Facebook are good starts for finding trans poets and also asking other trans poets who they are reading. Often times the people listening to and reading poetry are also writing.

Morty: Regarding building community - how would you recommend artists and writers start that process? I’m curious as to how others, including yourself, might help out the newer generation of young trans writers? 

Arden: I don’t think I am part of the older generation.  I haven’t had enough history yet with my own identity and I’m still emerging in terms of publications.  I’m not sure how much has to do with age.  I’m 32 but am frequently read as a high school student despite the smattering of grey in my hair (thanks grad school). I am pretty familiar with the application process in terms of graduate programs in writing.  This can be particular daunting for young writers (I think especially genderqueer and trans writers) because of all the little boxes and past history complications.  The fact that I went to a women’s college used to make me very nervous in terms of applications and resumes but it has been ok.  I’m much better qualified to talk about entering academia than how to promote a novel.

Personally, I turn to writers who have published books, or who have taught writing, for advice.  I also point younger writers to writing contests and relevant journals. Facebook has been really useful in connecting with all sorts of folks.  People can post and re-post calls for submissions which, I think, has increased the amount of exposure trans and genderqueer work receives.

Going to writing events like conferences and readings is also helpful.  Some of them are more costly than others. If a person has a couch in a city where there is a writing conference then perhaps someone can offer that sleep space to a young writer, who might find their path to attending the conference a little easier. We all have things we want or need and we all have things we can do or give.  Money is not the only thing of value.  More seasoned writers can read the work of emerging writers and offer feedback. Younger writers have an incredible amount of enthusiasm and immediacy so the benefits of an established writer working with an emerging one are not one sided.  

I also recommend that writers selling chapbooks and such to set aside a certain amount of books to be given to writers who otherwise would not be able to get them.  

Morty: I want to go back to asking you about your work. What prompted the foray into erotic stories?

Arden: I had a really positive experience reading an erotic piece in a writing workshop. I sent it out, it got accepted, and I’ve been writing erotica ever since. I actually really like to read it out loud too. I’m more unselfconscious reading my erotica than my poetry out loud. I’m more of a page poet than a stage poet

Morty: What is your piece about in the trans/genderqueer erotica book Take Me There?

Arden: It’s about a boy who first appeared to me in a poem. Ze is “out on loan” to a femme mistress. It’s hot and it has a bit of tenderness to it too.

Morty: Hmm, based on someone real?

Arden: Bits and pieces… Most of my poems as well as my erotica stories are in the first person. This can be sort of funny depending on what kind of literary voice I’m using.

Morty: You’ve published a lot of your work in literary magazines and you are one of the poetry editors of the journal Breath and Shadow. What advice would you give for those looking to publish their work?

Arden: Writing can be a really private, sometimes isolating practice. I’d advise writers to find other writers to share work with. Being a part of writing groups has helped me get my work to a publishable state. The moral support is a big plus too because there are going to be many rejection letters. Just keep trying and be smart about where the work is being sent. Pay attention to what writers or what style of writing is being published by a magazine to see if your writing would be a good fit. Calls for submissions can be a great way to find magazines and anthologies that are looking for work on specific subjects. Also, for writers who are more established, help the newer folks out by building connections and community.

Morty: Wonderful, those are great ideas.How did it come about that you became a Lambda Literary Fellow?

Arden: I believe Charles Flowers told me about the program at an AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs) conference but it might have also been at the Saint’s and Sinners writing conference down in New Orleans.  I applied, got in, and had amazing support from Lambda and people in the community.  I really enjoyed the people I met there and the time to focus on writing in such a queer environment.  At some point I’d like to go back for fiction or creative non-fiction.

Morty: It seems the main advice to give to queer and trans writers reading this is: apply and submit, you may just get in! What do you have planned for yourself in the coming year other than being in school?

Arden: Hehe, so I won’t say homework! Well, I need to send out more work. I also need to read more.

Morty: Anything else?

Arden: Well, I need to go running too!

Morty: Yeah, I have exercise in my to do list, too…

Arden: I have an essay I’ve been picking at for awhile now and I’d really like to place it somewhere. I need to follow the advice I gave and send out work because that’s a crucial step in the publishing.  In about a week I’m headed down to Louisiana where I grew up.  I’ve been writing more about race and identity especially in regards to family and adoption.  I might pull a “ding dong you’ve got my chromosomes” approach to meeting my biological family.  It should be a pretty intense trip but I’ll take notes and I’m sure that whatever comes out of it will appear in my writing.  Sometimes knowing that something scary will prove useful to my writing helps me get past my fear.

To read work and find out more about Arden Eli Hill please visit the following links: 

No Name Reading Series Podcast - Arden comes in at the end of minute 13. 

Wordgathering.com

Breath and Shadow - Journal of Disability Culture and Lit

Willow Springs Literary Journal

Take Me There - Book of Trans and Genderqueer Erotica