Translator: Leonardo Silva Reviewer: Sevkan Uzel
I'm going to ask you a question,
and I'd like you to answer the question in your mind
and it's going to be a "fill in the blank."
And you just answer it to yourself and be as quick with yourself -
The first thing that comes to mind is the right thing.
Here's the question:
"If I could change something about my body,
I would change - blank."
You got it right.
You got it right the first time.
"If I could change something about my body, I would change - blank."
I am transgender.
I was born female,
and I transitioned into the man that you see before you.
I grew up in Bridgeton, Maine,
and I ran around with the boys in the neighborhood with my shirt off
until I was ten years old.
My mother had a fit.
We started feuding with girls clothes when I was three and four years old,
and she asked me to put on a girls bathing suit top when I was about ten,
first time I was ever separated from the boys.
I started having crushes on girls.
I thought that that was my thing, I thought that that was -
I was confusing my gender identity and my sexual orientation,
which is a very common thing for people who are trying to discover who they are.
They get those things mixed up.
And, just to clarify,
sexual orientation is who you're attracted to,
and gender identity is how you feel about your body,
two separate subjects.
But, when I was 19, I came out to my family,
and I told them that I like girls,
and that made me feel better for a little while.
I thought that was my thing, I thought that was my thing,
but there was still something bubbling underneath
that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Ten years later, I was at a community forum,
in Auburn, Maine,
and my favorite author, Les Feinberg, who wrote the book Stone Butch Blues,
was going to be speaking.
The man who got up and introduced him, his name was P. J.
P. J. shared some of his story, and let me tell you,
talking about storytelling today,
P. J.'s story was so important to me.
It is so important to share our stories with each other
because it allows us to feel like we exist.
We see ourselves in somebody else, we feel like things are possible.
That night, P. J. shared that he was a transgender man.
I had never, to that day, met another transgender man.
I had never seen myself before.
That night, I was blown away.
I remember walking up to him afterwards,
and after he made his introduction and after the author spoke, and I said,
"I could relate to your story."
And he invited me to a support group called Yankee Boys.
That night, driving home,
I had this enormous crashing inside my heart, in the best way,
that I had finally seen myself,
and all I could say was, "That's me. That's me. That's me."
I started performing stand-up comedy
in January of 2002,
here in Maine,
I started my career here.
And -
when I first came out on stage as queer,
people thought that was a punch line.
I became more comfortable in who I was, onstage,
I started to share my story more and more, I became more comfortable,
and, two years into my career, I came out as trans, onstage.
But, to the outside world, I still looked like a butch dyke.
People thought it was my shtick, that I was trans.
As I started to perform more and more around the country,
I started to do shows in lots of interesting places,
and people started to come up to me
and say that they could relate to my story.
Non-transgender people started coming up to me
and telling me that they could relate to my story.
I thought, in the beginning, when I met P. J., that I was the only one.
Even though I had met P. J. and I had seen myself for the first time,
I had this overwhelming sense that I was the only one on the planet
that had ever felt this way about their body.
And then, I was in a comedy club, in Nashville, Tennessee,
at this place called Zanies.
Some woman came up to me and said, "You know what?
I've always had discomfort in my body around my femininity and my shape."
Another guy came up to me and said,
"I wish I could grow my beard thick like yours.
So butch!"
Another guy said he didn't like his man boobs.
I'm like, "I hear you, brother, I hear you."
(Laughter)
Where I once thought that I was alone, I was now looking around every room.
Not just inside this room, but outside this room too,
I was thinking, "You know what?
No one inside this room and no one outside this room
feels 100% OK about your body
in direct relationship to your masculinity,
your femininity and your gender,
and, if you do, then you are the weirdo."
(Laughter)
(Applause)
Because everybody else here is struggling.
And when I stopped separating myself from my tribe,
I realized that this is our shared experience.
I moved to Los Angeles ten years ago.
I'm a Maine boy, I'm a Maine boy,
and it was weird to move to LA.
It was weird because, you know,
LA is the plastic surgery capital of the country.
And there are women modifying their bodies every day,
and men modifying their bodies every day,
lots of people modifying their bodies every day,
who are not transgender-identified,
but their modifying their bodies every day to be more masculine or more feminine.
Eight years ago, I had chest surgery.
What is the difference if I take something off of my body to feel more masculine
and someone else adds something to their body to feel more feminine?
It's the same motivation.
We just label it something different.
(Cheers) (Laughter)
It's interesting -
I think about the labels and, you know, if that's what it is,
I think that -
People say to me things like,
"I can't imagine what it must feel like to be trans.
I can't imagine what it must feel like to be you."
And I'm like, "No. Yes, you can. yes, you can."
"Oh, I can't imagine." "Yes, you can!"
It's just a way to stay disconnected from each other.
If you would just stop for a moment and think about it,
and feel it for just a moment,
everybody in this room can identify with those feelings,
and that's what it is.
People get blocked,
blocked inside.
You get scared, you don't want to go there,
you don't want to think about where it might take you
if you're to consider how you really felt about your body
and all the pressures out there.
You can imagine.
I'm going to give you credit
because I know that you can conjure those feelings pretty easily.
And that's what it is, it's feelings,
and if we were to stay away from language of labels for just a moment,
just a minute, and discuss our feelings,
we would have so much shared experience and space.
I think about Caitlyn Jenner coming out,
everybody discussing all of her surgeries.
You know what?
With all the collective procedures the Kardashian clans have had -
(Laughter)
Caitlyn is the eighth in the family to be trans.
(Laughter)
You guys remember the question at the beginning?
If you can, for a moment, if you're able,
I'd like you to stand up quietly for a second.
Just stand up for a second, if you're able to.
And, if you can't, that's fine, no worries.
Thank you.
Remember the question?
I want you to look around at all of the faces of your tribe's people here.
Really, I'm serious, turn around, turn your bodies and look.
Not at their feet, not at their shirts, not at their clothes.
Look at the faces of your tribe's people here.
When I say "stop," I want you to stop on one face and just stay there.
It's OK if they're looking at you. It's going to be awkward, don't worry.
(Laughter)
I want you to stay there.
Yes, I love it, I love it.
Find a face, not the back of somebody's head.
Everybody's got one?
I want you to look at that person.
I want to see if you can see the shape of their face.
It's kind of dark in here.
Maybe you can't quite see the color of their eyes,
but I want you to really look at them and receive them,
for just a moment,
your tribe mate.
Remember your question and answer
of that thing that you would change about your body if you could.
Now, I want you to imagine what their answer might have been.
Can you feel it?
Maybe what their answer was?
Do you remember yours?
Can you feel them merging?
Doesn't everybody feel a little bit trans?
(Chuckling)
Is anybody blocking?
Look at them.
Can you feel them?
Thank you. Thanks.
(Applause)
Thank you.
(Applause)