Orientation Police — The Nib — Medium. Fabulous cartoon — click through for the whole thing.
Monica Jones… is a trans student in Arizona where they have a law against “manifesting prostitution”. Ostensibly it is a means of cleaning up the streets and “rescuing” women from the sex trade. The practice is, of course, very different, because all it takes to be found guilty of this crime is for a police officer to decide that you look like a prostitute. And what does a prostitute look like to an Arizona police officer? Obviously she’s female, she’s not white, and probably she’s trans.
Monica was brave enough to speak out against this law. Not long after she was arrested. Yesterday she was found guilty, solely on the word of the arresting officer. She has been sentenced to a minimum of 30 days in prison, and a $500 fine. As a trans woman, she will be sent to a men’s prison.
The silence about this from the white, liberal feminist media is deafening.
That’s what it means to be without privilege. You can be arrested simply for walking down the street, convicted without any evidence of wrongdoing being required, and subjected to what in any civilized country would be described as a cruel and unusual punishment. And the supposedly liberal media doesn’t fucking care.
TW for anti-trans violence, assault, attempted rape, torture.
So, last night, I was getting ready to go out with my boyfriend to a dance at my school (which was cancelled due to lack of ticket sales) and, I had a nice black vest and a nice white shirt, and my uncle had just came home the other day from the mine (my uncle is homophobic and he has abused me many times throughout my child hood) and when I had came out of my room to show my memere how nice I looked, my uncle was in the room that i thought my grandma/memere would be in (she was downstairs doing laundry), and he asked me why I wasnt wearing a dress.
my memere and dad both know that I am transgendered and they respect that, however, my uncle does not, and he did not know.
so I decided to sit down and tell him the truth.
he listened carefully and quietlly through all of it, but at the end of my explanation he had said, “I didn’t raise you to be fucked up.”
I agreed, I am a huge mess, I have been for years, but my sexuality and gender identity is not a fuck up, so I argued with him.
he got to a point where, after so many months of piece, he slapped me.
and threw me to the ground and kicked me in the stomach, of course I had puked, and it hurt, a lot.
he grabbed me by the shirt and asked me, “are you a girl”, I said no, my sex is female, but my gender is male..and he dragged me to his room.
he once had a big dog, and he made that dog wear an eletrical dog collar, and weve always kept it in his room, because we dont need it (my uncle killed the dog), he threw me onto the bed and said,” ill ask you one more time, are you a girl” I said no.
held grabbed my wrist, and held onto it tightly, I have a bruise from how tight he was grabbing it, and he pulled out the dog collar, threw me back onto the bed, sat on me, and put the collar on me… then he began yelling, are you a girl, you are a girl, are you a girl, you are a girl, and my response of course was no, no, no, I am male, I am male.
whenever I said that, he would shock me, and it was /hell/.
I was screaming, which only caused the shocks to get worse and worse, and then he said, “do you want to find out how faggots have sex!?” of course I already know this, but still I said no no no no stop stop stop.
my memere had finally heard me and came rushing to the bedroom, and tried to make my uncle stop, but he pushed her down, and thanked god she was okay.. since shes very fragile and all.
she then ran back to the stairs to call up my dad, and oh boy did he run.
he ran up stairs and shoved my uncle away from me and started fighting with him, yelling, punching, kicking, and such so on.
my memere got the collar off of me and brought me into her room, and after my dad and uncle were done fighting, my uncle had grabbed the things he needed and left, shouting a few insults at us.
we called the police today, but they cant find him.
we dont have money for a lawyer, all we have is a counsellor, im not going to ask for money, all I ask for is support.
I dont know what this will do, but please spread this around, this has affected me and family members greatly. I was taken to a hospital today to check if there was any damage on my insides that we dont know of and thankfully there was no damage, just scarring, emotionally and physically. i had a horrifying nightmare relating to this as well.
If you have abused somebody, raped somebody, insulted somebody, in any way possible, I hope this can somehow change your way of heart, and realize how much this can horrify a person, and ruin their lives. it made my life 97x worse than it already is.
If you don’t reblog this that’s okay, but I hate you and you are wrong
I can understand why it is that many transwomen feel a need to personally thank me. When society constantly tells you that you’re not worthy of having the kind of healthy, loving relationships that cisgender people take for granted — when the media tells you that your body and identity are the subject of fetishism at best and disgust at worst — I understand how it could be easy to forget that you, too, are a human being, and that you,
too, deserve to be loved exactly as you are. Transphobia is so rampant in every aspect of our culture that it seems that many trans people have internalized self-hatred to the point that they have given up on all hope of love.
I’m obviously failing, somehow, to make it clear that my marriage is no charity project. My wife is not a mangy stray puppy I decided to feed, or a soap-opera character who needed a manic pixie dream girl to save her from her own tragedy. She is the love of my life. So maybe it’s time for me to make a few things clear. If anyone is owed gratitude for being in this relationship, it’s my wife.