Trans Mreža Balkan

It will soon be two years since I “became an activist.” It was a label that until recently felt like a bad case of mistaken identity. Before coming out as trans, I was working hard on building my life and career in science, hoping to teach some day. Nature was, is, and always will be the love of my life, regardless of my occupation. But I never thought that I could find myself in something so completely different from the path I was set on, and discover work which I am at the same time passionately and hopelessly dedicated to, and which might cost me my sanity or even my life some day.

First off, what do I mean by being an activist? Well, first there’s my job description that explains what I do in a regional organization fighting for the rights of trans, inter and gender variant people. And then there is a description of what it all means in my life: showing up, learning, figuring out, questioning, reaching out and reaching in, creating spaces, connecting, nurturing, admitting my own ignorance, changing, pushing, taking initiative, taking leadership, following, enduring, and loving. In short, staying present, being active.

Those things can get pretty rough when the bad news just keep pouring in, and you feel utterly helpless. Death and violence streaming into our consciousness in HD from all directions, and there is no time to breathe. No time to mourn.

All those lost to violence wait to be fully received. How can the mind bear the weight of people being murdered because of their gender or the way their bodies are? Because of who they love? Because they are children? Because of the color of their skin? Their beliefs? Because they were sent off to war by someone, or someone was sent to wage war against them? Because their bodies belong to the state, to religion, to parents, to partners, to strangers, to companies, to jails – anyone but their own selves? How do you make sense of that? Often, disconnecting can feel like a life-saving move.

If I were to mourn every single person lost to violence the way my heart tells me I ought to, I would need to mourn every person as a loved one, as my family, as my child. The fact that I never met someone, that they live far away, that we had no interaction whatsoever and that we weren’t even aware of each others existence – none of those things change the fact that we are the same. I believe that anything that makes another living being abstract and distant is an illusion – albeit sometimes a necessary one. Because we can and we do break.

I don’t know how to always stay present without burning out. Maybe it’s not even possible? But what I do know is that I needed to make space in my own life for mourning. So I do something that seems to make sense in my own little world, and does help me get through the day, most of the time.

At the end of my day I take some time to let it all soak in. All the pain and fear, all the loss. And I let it be, acknowledge it, breathe with it. The more it hurts, the more determined I am to love, to keep going, to keep opening up. The deeper it cuts, the more I feel a need to push out of my own heart any hatred and violence that might be there. Because as impossibly hard as it sometimes feels, it works. Even if I can’t help anyone, I can at least be there. I can bear witness. I can stay open and present. In those moments I feel my heart beating uncomfortably, it hurts, the adrenaline can feel like too much. But it beats. And I can’t think of a better place to start my work.

Ryan

Zdravo,

Želim da ti kažem nešto o sebi, a da bi me čuo pogledaj u nebo, možda dok ovo čitaš pada kiša, ja je volim ali mi kišobran nije omiljeni predmet. Mada živim za zalaske sunca koji za samo par trenutaka stvore neprocjenjivu ljepotu na ono malom komadu zapadnog neba, volim i jutra pozlaćena ili ne, svako sa sobom donosi neku iskonsku notu mira i sjete. Moram ti priznati da na neki šašav način više volim biljke od ljudi i ako mene pitaš, kad bi ljudi jednog dana evoluirali do stadijuma nekog sličnom cvijetu bili bi poput ruža ili kaktusa. Moram ti reći i da obožavam okeane i mora, podsjećaju me na život koji vodimo nekad uzburkan, nekad toliko blagosloveno miran. Omiljeni sisar mi je kit. Zamislite ogromnu plavu gromadu od 40 metara ispred sebe – zar nije fascinantna? Ako ti se ne dopada zamisli nešto manje, tipa nekog leptira, i njih volim. Znaš ja nemam hobi osim ako se hobijem može nazvati slikanje neba, cvijeća, zgrada i mačaka za instagram, obožavam da nosim bijele košulje i iscijepani teksas, obožavam satove, obožavam poeziju, divim se piscima, njihovom daru da sve što vide mogu da opišu i da sve što osjete umiju da izraze. Volim da gledam ljude kako rješavaju sudoku ili kako čekaju red u “Voliju”, kako su samo predivni dok vežu vezice na starkama ili dok u glavi računaju koliko je 4*8…

Toliko toga sad znaš o meni, smatram te svojim prijateljem jer sve što sam ti rekla o sebi znaju samo moji prijatelji, zar nije prelijepo što smo se upoznali? E da, a da te pitam nešto, predstavlja li ti problem to što sam ja trans?

Djevojka bez kišobrana