Friday, August 1, 2014

Enter the Lion

July 27, 2014
Dear friends,

You are such an inspiration to me, and I can never sufficiently express my gratitude for all of the ways you have loved and cared for me, especially since I have come out as trans.

I am excited to share that after much discernment, prayer, and the required therapist letters, I am continuing my transition from female to male.  Yesterday, on July 30th, I took my first testosterone shot.  On August 19th, I will be in Fort Lauderdale for top surgery to remove my breasts and give me a male chest.

Some of you will celebrate this news.  Thank you!  Some of you may struggle with it, and I totally understand. I only ask that you still see me for the lovable goofball I have always been. I am giddy and grateful, and trying not to be too anxious about negative responses from those I care about. 

It isn't easy for me to defy expectations or risk upsetting people. My biggest fear in this process has been how people will respond. I'm a people pleaser. I want to be liked, and I hate conflict. But I will risk the hard conversations and negative comments so that I can live more fully as myself. This is an experience that is giving me strength and courage to find my own voice. I do not undertake this lightly, and if you are not supportive, please consider how your words may wound me or harm our relationship.

I am so excited to continue this journey and curious to see how I will look and sound in a year. Have questions? Some places to check out: HRC Transgender FAQ, and Hudson's FTM Testosterone basics, or ask me.

I wanted to record my voice at intervals for comparison, so I googled "lion quotes" and found this lovely one by Elizabeth Kenny:

It's better to be a lion for a day than a sheep all your life.  

Good words to live by, I think.

With joy,
Leo
(rawr!)

Monday, June 16, 2014

A Happy Pride

Portland Pride 2014
Photo Credit Dustin Vance

To fully explain my amazing weekend at Pride this year, I need to take you back almost 15 months to some of the fear I experienced as I was first coming out as trans.

But first, an aside:  Even though I write as a person of faith, please know: my goal is never, ever, EVER to try to get people to go to church, or to convince them to believe in God. That is just not my job. Your faith is not my business.  I do want everyone to know they are loved, no matter what, and I want to make churches safe and welcoming for those who might want to go to one.

So back to my story.  It was March 31st, 2013, only five days since I had become aware that this word "trans" might apply to me. I was still the president of my church and actively advocating for welcome and affirmation of the LGBT community in our church, including beginning conversations about welcome with the local boy scout troop. Then, as now, I would proclaim that God's love included everyone, that being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender wasn't just "something to be tolerated", but one of the many diverse and beautiful ways that God creates us all.

It was Easter Sunday, a pretty big day, and I was supposed to be driving to church already. Instead I stood in my closet (both literally and figuratively). I could not bring myself to dress as a woman, but was afraid to dress as a man. I called my roommate, half naked, frozen in inaction, and he told me to just put anything on and go to church.  I dressed as "male" as I could or dared at the time - jeans, t-shirt with sports bra and Converse all stars.

I got to church fifteen minutes late and snuck into one of the pews. As I sat there, knowing I could not put on a dress, aware of this growing realization that my gender identity is male, I felt shame. I was struck with the fear that God was mad at me, that I was doing something bad. As much as I would have vehemently argued with anyone who tried to make that claim about any other member of the LGBT community (or anyone for that matter), here I sat, full of fear and internalized transphobia.  I wanted to walk out on Easter Sunday service and go home.

Over the next months, as I came out further to myself, my friends, and my family, this feeling continued to surface. I really didn't want to go to church. I completed my term as president but resigned from the church council. I felt that I could not attend the church I had been a member of for 18 years, because I wasn't sure they would accept me.

I am grateful that through study and prayer I have let go of (hopefully most of) my internal transphobia. I am as God made me, and living more authentically will not only enable me to be closer to God, but to be more giving of myself to others.  I don't know why God made me male in a female body, but I don't need to know the why. I can rest in the knowledge that God loves me passionately as I am, just as God loves each of you passionately just as you are.

And over the last fourteen months, my church has impressed me by living out the welcome that we voted on in December, 2012.  Two weeks ago, one of my pastors, Pastor Robyn Hartwig, preached on the spirit of God moving through the congregation, leading us to stretch out of our comfort zone for our brothers and sisters. From the pulpit, she spoke of how she met me as Laura and now knew me as Leo, that I was a she and am now a he. She told us that the spirit of God moves out ahead of us, welcoming and including those who are different from ourselves, but who are already included in and part of what God is doing in the world. 

I had been known as Laura for 18 years in that congregation and didn't know if I had a place there now as Leo, but hearing this word of welcome from the pulpit was powerful. I did not mind being mentioned in a sermon, but was deeply moved by the words of support. Both pastors have also been calling me Leo when they present me with the bread at communion, and this is holy hospitality. In a few weeks, we will have a formal name blessing in the church of my new name, Leo Channing.

At Pride, this welcome and love from my church was made tangible again. This year, my congregation had about 25 members buy matching t-shirts to represent our local church and walk in the Pride parade, joining several other churches from a variety of denominations, and about 75 other Lutherans.  

This church of mine, this people I did not know could be my people, called me Leo and marched with me, holding signs, blowing bubbles, and waving sticks with rainbow streamers, offering holy hospitality and welcome to all they met on the parade route.

At one point in the parade, the route goes past the bar CC Slaughters. Several of my friends were standing under the balcony, cheering us on. They have loved me and supported me through the twists and turns of coming out as trans, and have always made me feel that I was one of the guys. I love them fiercely. The parade announcer at CC's is also my friend Summer Seasons. Walking with my mom, seeing my friends, hearing Summer greet us and talk about the welcome and advocacy of our church made me leap for joy.

The picture above, taken by my friend Dustin Vance, captured this moment. This was Pride for me. As I wrote on the photo on facebook, "What moves me to such joy is the love I receive from the LGBT community in Portland, and the love I receive from my church family, and all of this love crashing around in a tidal wave of awesomeness in the same place." My heart burst with gratitude for each of you: the words of support you have provided, the hugs, the love, the joyful greetings of "Happy Pride!" -- I knew that I was in the right place, being my authentic self, my authentic trans self, and it was amazing. 

In that moment, I felt encouraged to continue the work of making churches safe and welcoming for all people, especially for those in the LGBT community. I do not take that moment of joy and love for granted, Many people, including friends I love dearly, have struggled with rejection by friends, family or church community. For those of you who are allies and members of faith communities, I ask that you will join me in advocating for the LGBT community, so that all may know they are truly welcome. (here are links for Lutherans and for others)

If you have been hurt by a church community or people using the Bible against you, please know that the word of hate does not come from God, nor does "love the sinner, hate the sin."  I am sorry you have been hurt.  God rejoices in YOU, in all that makes you wonderful and unique. God celebrates your glitter and sparkle and rainbow, or however you express yourself.

There is a lot of joy in this picture from Pride, but my weekend wasn't all smiles. I also experienced a decent amount of gender dysphoria. That is the clinical term for the distress caused by my perceived gender (female) being different than my gender identity (male).  Several friends either spotted that moment when I got quiet and withdrew or jumped in when I asked for help, and they provided hugs and words of encouragement. I am forever grateful to each of you.

I also felt extremely empowered and uplifted by participating in the first trans march in Portland. For me, the most incredible moment was being a part of a large group of people, voices reverberating off the buildings with repeated chants of: "What do we want?" "Trans rights!" "When do we want them?" "Now!"  I did not expect the tears that threatened to fall as I felt in my bones that I am not alone in this journey. Please know that you are not alone either.

Pride weekend is over for Portland, but I will try to continue to live out what Pride means to me: love, empowerment, authenticity, advocacy, joy, friendship and solidarity. And lots of glitter and rainbows.

Thank you all for the many ways you have blessed my life.

Happy Pride!

Monday, January 20, 2014

What's in a name?

At the Oregon Coast with friends
 Psalm 138:13-14 "For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well."
Well, I changed my name on Facebook from Laura to Leo.  In case you missed my earlier post, I have come out as transgender and identify as male. Part of that journey has been giving myself a man's name.

I remember the first time I wanted to have a male name. It was at Latino Pride in July, 2013 and I was with several of my friends, all male. Feeling good with my short hair cut and my cute outfit from the men’s department, I felt masculine energy exuding from me… and so when I introduced myself as “Laura,” it just didn’t fit.

After pondering many names, and trying some on mentally, I decided to pick a first and middle name with the same initials as my female name. One night in August I found the perfect first name: “Leo.”

Leo is Latin for lion, and I have felt a special connection with lions since childhood. In fact, there is a large poster of an African Lion (panthera leo) running towards me by my desk.

My love for lions started with Aslan, from C.S. Lewis’ series, The Chronicles of Narnia. An allegory for Jesus, the lion is a strong, loving, protector, and yet calls one to do what is right. The lion urges one to bravery and action. Much of my early faith was based on this understanding of God. The lion reminds me of God's love and presence, and of God urging us to care for others.

In the frightening early months of my journey as transgender, I decided I wanted to be a lion and not a mouse. As an activist who hates conflict, this resonated with me.  I do want to be a lion, and I want to have a loud and powerful roar against injustice. Working for justice requires courage.  It calls for the animal energy to pounce and play, to love fiercely, and to fight tirelessly for myself and others.

My friend Patrick suggested my middle name, Channing, which means fierce wolf and church leader. This is also who I want to be as I work for inclusion and welcome in the church, so this name belongs too.

Leo Channing. I like it. :)


It also helps that two handsome and gifted men, Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum, share my names.  That is company I would gladly keep. In fact, I think a picture of the three of us together would be quite an appropriate way to celebrate my journey.  Don't you agree?  
God of all, your creation is wonderfully diverse, and I am grateful to be a part of it. Be with all those who are searching for a sense of identity or belong, whether it is gender, or community, vocation or within their family.  You know us and love each of us, and have from the start, no matter where we are or what we do. Thanks, and Amen.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

My thoughts on peace

Power Ranger, Halloween 2013
[This blog post is the text of a sermon I delivered on December 11, 2013]
Luke 7:36-39, 44-50
One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment.Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’ … turning towards the woman, Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’  Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’
In our reading tonight, Jesus and a Pharisee, a religious insider, are eating dinner and this “sinner” interrupts. She has not kept God’s law in some unknown way and she is not “our kind of people” – according to Simon, the Pharisee.  He says to himself, “‘If Jesus were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’” Oh – the disdain!

He saw her, deemed her unworthy, and was blind to the hospitality she showed Jesus (that the he himself had failed to offer).  Instead, the Pharisee drew two neat little boxes and put himself in one – the good guy – and put her over here as “the “other”.  We too reveal our oh-so-human self-absorption, and get in the way of building peace, by creating divisions like the Pharisee: “There’s me, who is worthy – and there are the others”.

Sometimes, when we have commonalities – we come from the same family, the same town or same religion, we draw a little bigger box around our own – the “like us” box but then we still set up a little hierarchy, with “me”, “us” and “the others”

You see this in the media, our cities and our families. Red states vs. blue states. Liberal vs. conservative. We’re Lutherans, they’re not. We recycle, they drive a gas guzzler. Even ducks and beavers are opposed.

We know this, but we still fall into our habits of seeing the world in terms of “us” and “them”.

Keeping all of this in mind, I would like to connect this passage in Luke to my own story.

This year I realized that I am transgender. I am willing to answer any questions you may have, but the short explanations is that even though I was born female, I now identify as more male. I’m one of the guys.

Part of this journey has really taught me first hand how we try to put people in boxes to label, understand, and sometimes judge them.

Very briefly, let me explain three concepts used to understand gender identity.  For each one, they were previously thought of in terms of two opposites, instead of a spectrum as we now see them.

There is the continuum of biological sex (our chromosones, hormones, etc), which goes from male on the one side to female on the other.

Next, there is gender identity – the interior understanding of one’s gender – which goes in varying degrees from man to woman.

Thirdly, there is gender expression – the outward appearance and roles by which you show your gender, and we each fall somewhere on the line between masculine and feminine.

This last one, gender expression, is where we can sometimes most easily see ourselves in a continuum rather than polar opposites. Maybe you are a woman, but you don’t like to wear dresses, which our culture may define as feminine.  Maybe you are a man, but don’t like sports, which culture may define as masculine. Maybe you are a woman who likes to work on cars, or a man who likes to cook. Gender expression is very heavily culturally defined by what is expected, typical or considered appropriate.

One place we see a strong enforcement of gender expression is in children’s toys – with the pink toy aisle and the blue toy aisle. There are other places we can see strong cultural messages for appropriate gender activities. Examining these can show us where we build barriers and turned people into “the other”.

First there is the question, “are you one of us,” in settings where people are excluded based on gender. Another question is “are you fitting into my expectation of how men or women should act?”  Like the Pharisee, we may say “sinner” if someone does not follow our own rules, if they are not “like us”. We may judge, insult, or even hurt the other, enforcing cultural expectations of gender. We see bullying and intimidation against those who are different, and this is one of the ways the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender communities are alienated or harassed.

At one level, you may hear statements such as “boys don’t cry” or “oh – a woman driver.”  For me, I get funny looks and hear comments about my clothes or hair that make me uncomfortable while in the women’s restroom. My friends have been the victims of gay bashing, most recently this Halloween. As the gender expression enforcement becomes extreme, people are beaten up or murdered for defying expected gender norms.

So connecting this with our bible passage tonight and the theme of peace – am I trying to say that I, as transgender, put myself in the position of the outsider, of the sinner, who in our story receives forgiveness and accolades from Jesus?  Oh, that would be so easy.

No, I have to admit it. I am the Pharisee. And I can give you a vivid example.  A friend has stopped speaking to me since I came out as trans. They have shared with others that they are embarrassed and offended by my public displays of male identity.

And I judge them.  I mean, they are closed minded and I am the righteous one being discriminated against, right?  Right?

The tricky thing about this is that every one of us is the Pharisee at some time or another and has drawn lines in our lives where we are “right” and “righteous” and the other is a “sinner”. Where does each of us do this in our own lives?

So I am the Pharisee, and you may be too. But all is not lost! Look what Jesus does. He dines with the Pharisee and the sinners. He accepts the hospitality of each. He points out to us the gift of connection that we miss when we create these divisions.

Jesus models servanthood, reconciliation and restoration within our communities and across borders. Jesus loves us each one of us and calls us to do the same.

I still have work to do to break down the boxes and barriers that I build up between myself and various categories of “those other people,” so that I can truly be a peace maker. Thankfully, like he did for the sinner at his feet, Jesus also forgives our sins and helps us begin each day anew.

This advent, let’s reflect on where we set up walls of separation for us vs them and see with new eyes those to whom we can offer more hospitality, more grace, and more love.

May God give us strength and patience in this discipline, and may peace abound in our families, in our communities, and in our world.

Amen. 

Saturday, October 5, 2013

An Odd Duck


AIDS Walk Portland 2013
Psalm 27:1 "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?"
This week has been another of those hermit times for me. Questioning my gender identity is not easy. It is not always fun to be outside the norm, to be different than people's expectations and hopes for you. It still stings a little when I remember being called an "odd duck" some years ago. Sometimes, especially when I have more questions than answers, I prefer to stay home and spend time thinking and resting, and retreating into TV cop shows and action movies. My therapist gives me explicit permission for these breaks, and they are both needed and helpful.

In my hermit times, I mostly hang out in my bedroom, which is a comfy oasis. I switched bedrooms a week ago when two of my best friends moved in with me, and my new room now faces east. Today, I awoke to sun streaming into my bedroom. The coming rains in Portland make sunshine precious, and it felt like a gift to wake up to the light this morning.

The sunshine reminded me of a song I love, from the Holden Evening Prayer by Marty Haugen.  In the procession, there is a line about Jesus that says "Let your light scatter the darkness, and shine within your people here."

I do believe that the light of love, the light of God, can scatter the darkness in our hearts and in the world. When I remember this, I feel braver about heading out into the world as my own unique, non-conforming self. I look to the light and to God to give me courage and strength so I can go out there and be an advocate and an activist. I want to be the one dressed up in a lion costume holding up signs at AIDS Walk (as pictured above), and not the one hiding in my room.

Even though sometimes I need a hermit break, I am very grateful for the love and support I have in my friends, in my church, and in my facebook community. I do not take this for granted. For many people, coming out or living authentically results in being disowned, kicked out, beaten up... The world is a pretty amazing place, but it is also a place of violence, hatred, negativity, poverty, and destruction.

If you are living in a dark spot, may sunshine and love find their way into your life.  If you are living in the light, may you find a way to share that with others.  Let's spread love and strength and courage today.  Let's shine with love, hospitality, and acceptance so that everyone can live with confidence and joy.
God of light - you are my rock and my salvation. Give me the strength to be the odd duck you created me to be. Help me to share the light of love with others. Be with all who suffer in mind, body, or spirit, and remind them that they are not alone. Thanks, and Amen.

Friday, September 13, 2013

The Gift of Not Knowing

Bat n' Rouge Portland
Photo credit: Marty Davis
Matthew 28:20b "[Jesus said,] 'And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.'"
As many of you saw in my previous blog post, I shared that I identify as transgender, as more male than female, and that I go by either Laura or Leo.  I am so incredibly grateful for the messages of support, love and encouragement I received.  Words cannot fully express how much this has meant to me. Thank you.

Life is an interesting journey, and we never really have a full picture of where we should go or the decisions we should make. We do our best to hear wisdom in our own hearts and the words of our friends, to listen for the voice of God. But sometimes life is just a muddle. Maybe we don't know who we are or what to do with our lives. Maybe we feel lost.

I am in the middle of a journey of discovering who I am and how I can live most fully and true to myself. But I don't have all the answers. I don't know if I prefer to be called "Laura" or "Leo" - I like them both.  I don't know yet if I will do more than cut my hair and wear men's clothes. But that's ok. I don't have to know right now. It can be stressful to be in an in-between place, but I'm working on resting in ambiguity, on letting answers unfold in their own time. I don't want to rush, and I don't want to drag my feet. Surprisingly, I'm feeling pretty peaceful (most of the time) about this place of unknowing.

Life is not about knowing all the answers, or about finding out the end of the movie before it begins. I want to view life as an adventure! Thankfully this is not something we have to do alone. Many of you have expressed your willingness to come along on this adventure with me, even when it is mysterious or scary, and I do not take that for granted. I hope I am willing to go beside you in your adventure too.

And because this is a devotional blog at heart, I want to add that God is also always with us in this. No matter how dark or confusing life may seem, you are never alone. Sometimes that's hard to remember - I had it tattooed on my arm so I wouldn't forget. I am working on being ok with not knowing how things will turn out; I am working on trusting that God is always with me on this journey, no matter what.
God of mystery, Sometimes we just want life to be simple, but this world is so complex! Give us strength and courage when we are in stressful or in-between places, or when we are just plain frustrated by not knowing what to do next. Remind us that we are never alone, and give us the motivation and passion to be there for others. Thanks for being with us always. Amen.



PS - Speaking of life as an adventure, I added links to a few more of the YouTube videos by Andrew Shayde of the adventures of our friends.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Finding Leo


Killer croquet. Photo by Andrew Shayde
Romans 8:38-39: “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord”

I have only posted a few times on this blog since the end of March and there is a very particular reason for this. I felt that I could not write publicly about what was really on my mind.

At the end of March, I had the startling, frightening, and liberating realization that I just might be transgender.  That was the beginning of a journey of questioning that has brought me to this place now – where I want to share more publicly about who I am.

I now identify as transgender: more male than female, one of the guys, in my men’s clothes and men’s haircut. Over the years, there were several clues I gave myself before my moment of realization, even the title of this blog.

Please feel free to ask me any question that you like. I can’t speak for the whole transgender community, just as I can’t speak for all Lutherans or all Oregonians. I’m on a journey where I am still figuring out who I am, so there is a lot I am learning too. But I don’t want to do so in private any more.

You can call me either Laura or Leo, the name I picked for myself.  I like both and am fine with either male or female pronouns (he/him or she/her). At this point, I appreciate the fluidity of having either option, so you don’t have to apologize if you say Laura or her, and you don't need to feel compelled to use Leo.

I am still attracted to men.  Gender identity and sexual orientation are different, so I can have a gender identity of male and still be attracted to men.  Here is an FAQ on transgender: http://www.hrc.org/resources/entry/transgender-faq

Here are a few of the reasons that I want to come out publicly as transgender:

1)      I want to be seen as who I am and feel that I can be authentic. I want to be myself in public as well as with my closest friends. I just want to be me.
2)      I am grateful for the LGBT people who are out and role models for the rest of us, giving us hope, and I want to be the same.
3)      I want to be able to blog and post more freely, without worrying that I will out myself.

I don’t know why I am transgender or why I didn't realize this sooner.  I know some people know from a young age, but that is not my story.  But I do believe that God is with me in this process and that nothing can separate us from the love of God, as I have tattooed on my arm.

I am so grateful for the words of support and encouragement I received from those I have already shared this with.  I am especially grateful for my friends whose love and humor ground me in this tumultuous and exciting journey.

It may be foolish to come out publicly right now, but I choose strength and bravery over being timid.  I am who I am – a child of God, a friend, an activist, an advocate, a goofball, and me – still me.


Thank you for listening.  Many blessings to you and yours.