Vignette 1: Coming Out 

So, for me, my coming out process was long and protracted. It was basically my whole life. So, I was identifying as trans without a safe way to express it and no real words to do so at like 3. I have memories of asking my older sister and my mom about clothes and friends and toys. So, also learned pretty quickly in the 60s that is not a safe thing to talk about in Leave it to Beaver world. Yeah, for that, for mostly just went deep underground. There was, you know, some exploratory, private crossdressing things in my teens and into college. And but it was still, it was still primarily an effort to bury things. And, as you've probably heard from lots of other people you've been interviewing, it's not a healthy or sustainable thing. You know, the whole coming out process, for me, I often characterize it as just an endless series of worries about losing everything. So, as a 3-year-old I was afraid of losing my parents because I heard how they described people who were different. Later, losing friends in school. Losing a college scholarship, losing a place in the wireless industry.

Vignette 2: Representation   

It wasn't until I was 40 that my secret came out. My young, my tween daughter, being the clever kid that she was, was digging around through floppy disks. And all she knew was that I had done one Halloween costume, a fem Halloween costume, and she came and asked me, "You did a lot more than one." So, the, you know, the secret was out. And then, you know, the shock and the, the coming to terms and the healing and all of the family ripple effects, that took a long time. And I didn't seriously start ... Well, actually shortly after that, you know, there's going out and visiting Ingersoll Gender Center, which is kind of ... If you want to characterize the Seattle support groups, it's the one that often people go to before they get to Emerald City. Because Ingersoll is a place for more intense support groups and deeper discovery and counseling referrals. And after a year of that, seeing all the different people who were coming through and just kind of getting a sense of the landscape, because there was, there was nothing realistic to be found on the Internet other than really dark stuff. And there was nothing to be found in libraries other than sensationalist stuff. And even at the University of Washington, they had two books, one that declared me to be mentally ill, written by some German psychologist from long, long, long ago. And another book which was, could have been cool. It was a photographic essay of drag queens in New York City, but most of the pages have been razored out. So, you know, there is no support to be found except amongst peers. So, I was at Ingersoll for a year, and I got what I needed there, and I graduated, emotionally in my own head, and then jumped over to Emerald City, which is more of a just a fun, social activities and social group. And then I came out at work 10 years later.  (Veronica Steed: Took you longer than me.)  Oh gosh, yeah, it took me a long time. That's just my personality.

Vignette 3: Transitioning at Work 

You know, when I graduated from college, I was in kind of an esoteric field, a wireless electrical engineer. And the first jobs that I had were in the defense industry. And at the time, that would have been in the mid 80s, Reagan years, lots of money, lots of opportunity in that space, but also it would have been a death sentence to my career to have come out. So, there was no opportunity at all for me to be expressive and then, you know, eventually I connected with a wireless telecom where I am now and that was at a time when diversity and inclusion was beginning to be embraced as a way for companies to be more than just a place to clock in and clock out. And as I began to see the DEI principles, you know, becoming more openly practiced and seeing some hints of documents. Official company documents with HR and legal blessing that indicated that, hey, there's at least a policy in place for people who want to transition, even though I was still afraid because I had heard that it was still difficult for people because all it takes is one, you know, one bad spirited manager to make life really miserable. I was more than pleasantly surprised that my manager at the time I would have to come out to. You know, I arranged a meeting with him, and I was never quite sure what his reaction would be because he was the guy at work whose office was covered with photos of the baseball teams that he had coached. And so, it was again, it was just a wonderful surprise. He probably sensed my nervousness. I had already made a call to HR and so HR kind of knew but it was someone 1000 miles away. They had indicated that hey, the policy is there to support you. Your next step is to talk to your manager. And so talk to my manager and, you know, the first words out of his mouth again, shattered the stereotype that I had held for my own protection. He said, wow, this must have been really hard for you. How can I help?

Vignette 4: Small Town Gigs 

Boy, over the years and just given the small-town nature of Port Angeles and Sequim, we've made lots of really good personal friends in those towns. And it is part of the sense of having some roots there, even though we didn't come from there, it's taped down some roots. And there's a lot of affection for the unexpected and kind of fearful stereotype breaking experience that I've had out there. Just to have seen my worst expectations completely fall flat on their face, and that that's really confidence building. It, you know, for those who can take that as a lesson. Well, a lesson to learn from and advance as opposed to an exception where you want to return to that place of reclusive safety. I take that as a lesson of opportunity. It proves that my assumptions are wrong about safety and acceptance. And you know, there's something about music, of course. Everyone who comes to our shows, even if they don't know each other, they know the music. Everyone's going to sing, and they know, you know, when to pump their fists in the air, and they see everybody else magically doing it at the same time. They know what the lyrics are, you know, you can turn to the person next to you, who is a total stranger, and you're singing the exact same words. And so music has this way of creating connection. And any artist tells you that. It's not anything new but it was certainly new to me because my past musical experience. I was as a musician as a child as well, except I started with the violin and there's no fame or fortune or sexiness there. And it wasn't until I joined the band that they had me on stage being eye candy, tapping the tambourine and occasionally holding a few simple notes on a keyboard. And I had to do much more. So put some effort into that. 

Vignette 5: Mom at The Nasty Habits Show

My mom and dad were concerned. My mom had actually, I had kind of twisted her arm and said, you know, you've got to come at least see me at one show. And she came and I think it was one of the Funhouse shows, Veronica, which is ... (Veronica Steed: They were very loud that night.) It is a bone breaking eye drum piercing ... (Veronica: Punk bar) punk bar. And that may have also been one of the nights when the circus sideshow freaks were performing or the belly dancers or something, because we often teamed up with people. And that was more than my mom was ready for her, but she sat quietly on a chair near the front and politely listened. And you know, one of the interesting things that she said afterwards was that all this music, all the songs sound the same. Which to some degree is kind of true, because that's just the way guitars are tuned. And there's a distinctive 80 style that, yeah, it shows up over and over, but I wasn't going to get an argument with her about how all of her classical Chinese opera music sounds exactly the same as well. And the only thing that's different are the words and the melodies, they're so steeped in deep tradition that they are not allowed to be different. But I was I was glad that she was there, but that that was kind of the extent of the support I got. Even today, my mom still probably has memories of who we were performing with and how I was dressed and she still kind of, in a backhanded way, reminds me to behave and don't bring any shame on anybody.

Vignette 6: Music versus Storytelling 

It is our ... well, it's my primary ... well it's my primary musical and intimate kind of activity group, you know. I also do open mic storytelling, which is performance. It is intimate and soul bearing, but it is different because it is solo. And the thing about music, like I said before, it is a, it is collaborative. It is where you put your, you put your faith in your bandmates. That they're going to carry you through and, you know, I can't even count how many, what, you know, over the course of an evening there are maybe 1000 critical moments at which, you know, we are listening for one of our bandmates to do something subtle. And that is part of the train of events that allows us to stay synchronized and keep the music going and the way that it's supposed to go as opposed to falling apart. (Veronica Steed: Leaning on the drummer and the bass player.) (Michel Eliatamby-O'Brien: The underappreciated rhythm section, always.) (Veronica: Always the case)

Vignette 7: Out at Work 

You know, that year that I came out at work, and telling them that I would be able to transition in a heartbeat at work because I was already living as Ginger and doing the band thing every hour outside of the office. And there was a lot of whiplash in constantly changing gears every evening and going into the weekend, but I was ready to go straight into work, you know. Veronica can tell you, I can pull off a business suit. 

Vignette 8: Expression 

I don't think being in the band helped define anything about my gender identity. What it did was it opened up avenues for me to explore, in terms of expression and costuming, and it gave me a little bit of a nudge to start moving in those directions. Ultimately what I find is still up to me, it didn't define anything for me. But the idea that I could be appreciated for being genuine, and sticking my neck out there, and delivering something personal and expressive as music was- that was defining because it was an incredible confidence builder. 

Vignette 9: Patridge Family 

I was drawn to the Partridge family as my dream- because they're, you know, OK, it's a pretty bubble-gummy band. But the vision that I always had was that I would be, you know, teenage daughter that played the keys [?]. Susan Day, that was the actress who played Laurie, Laurie Partridge, that's her name. And that was always my dream, to be Laurie, you know. The teenage girl playing the keys with, you know, the long wavy hair. Just the whole family always smiling, you know. There was a lot of joy in the Partridge family. And that was something I always longed for, but I wasn't going to find it in my family at birth. But I could potentially find it in some imaginary future as a member of a band. 

Vignette 10: Covid Storytelling 

In the few years before COVID and during COVID, I was developing a, kind of a storytelling and DNI [?] teaching side hustle. And that did just fine over remote connections. It wasn't as good as being there in person and actually making people cry, which is one of my signature things is the storytelling I do. I want it to leave warm emotional tracks that never wash away. And even if they don't remember the details, I want them to remember that there was something really heartwarming about this DNI [?] conference that someone went to, or left them with some hope that they could do something meaningful. That's all I want them to remember, I don't even need them to remember me. And so that that was something that I was able to develop during COVID, and I'm looking forward to getting back to doing that in person. But you know, in a way it is just a different kind of expression of a common thread that took me most of my life to find. And it turns out that pretty much everything I've done in my career, or as like a college tutor, or in speech and debate club, or in storytelling, or in the wireless industry, in music, and the teaching and storytelling that I do now, the common thread that finally came- became clear to me was that this is all about communications and connecting people. Everything that I have done in some way fed that, but I wasn't able to put a finger on it for a long time. Now that I know that, I am okay with very different singing things. And whether it's- well, I'm getting a little bit bored with the engineering work because it doesn't feed my soul in quite the same way as playing music and watching people just go bonkers or telling stories and, you know, making them feel warm and feel a little hope for humanity. Those are the things that are really moving to the top of my list right now. 

Vignette 11: Fear Bubble 

You know it's really natural for people who have been told they ‘don't matter’, they ‘don't exist’, that ‘there's no place in the world for them’, that ‘there are no words for them’, you know. That's the kind of experience that elder trans people would have, you know, not even having language, or representation. And it is so easy to internalize that, and I did. And I viewed the world with a heavy- as being cloaked in really heavy fear. And it closed down a lot of possibilities for me, a lot of opportunities to do things sooner - like I said, I tend to do things late - and I recognize that it's my caution coming into play. And, you know, the experience in Port Angeles with the band, again, was a way for me to try to pop that bubble. It is a persistent thing in my brain that always keeps coming back. Maybe that's the way trauma works, or, you know, chronic stress works. 

Vignette 12: Letter to Editor 

And I just want to read you something that is both a reflection of the goodness that can be found in rural places and of how authenticity can help bring it out. So, in 2003, there was this big Sunday insert in the “Peninsula Daily News” - that's their newspaper out in Port Angeles or on the peninsula. And it was a full-page story in the little local insert called “Peninsula Woman” that featured all sorts of stories about Esprit conference, and photos, and human interest personal stories and comments. And the responses ranged from supportive to undisguised hatred. Most were simply considered to be opinions and views that disapproved of cross-dressing and the stereotypical behavior associated with it. However, one particularly nasty comment prompted Michael Lures, the general manager of the Red Lion Hotel where the conference has been held for the last 30 some years, to respond. And his published letter in the newspaper said this: “In response to the concerned view voiced in the May 20th, 2003 Letter Esprit Convention, I must say that I reject the premise that ‘Esprit Conference attendees make a daily choice to experience a transgendered life’. Nobody would make such a choice in the same way that nobody chooses to be tall or short, or good at math. These people have taken the courageous step to face a challenge most of us cannot grasp. The Esprit Planners see their mission to be one of suicide prevention by providing support for people who face the challenge of being transgender and giving them needed tools to get through their day, and their cause is one I admire. These people are combat veterans, former chiefs of police, CEO's, doctors, and lawyers. They are overachievers who have served society in every acceptable way. It is ignorant to say that they have made a ‘disordered choice’. To deride local businesses for serving this group is also cause for concern. Despite our discomfort with people who are different than us, most of society has moved beyond support of segregated busses and diners. These people are part of our social fabric. No amount of bitterness or flinty-hearted [?] hate will change that. We will continue to serve these courageous, respectful people as we would any other law-abiding member of our community”. Michael Lures, Port Angeles.