Tonight, I celebrated the first LGBTQ+ Pride in my hometown. Being part of this historic moment in East Alabama history was quite poignant for me. Opelika has, for me, mixed associations. It was there, as a student at Trinity Christian School, that I experienced bullying from a teacher for “not being man enough,” and after graduation when I came out, I was banned from campus with the threat of having the police called on me if I returned. It was also there, in the Lee County Courthouse, where on July 22, 2013, I legally became Darcy Jeda Corbitt and began the journey of a lifetime. It was also there that, on August 16, 2017, that a clerk at the driver’s license office misgendered me, called me “it,” and ultimately denied to give me a driver’s license consistent with my gender identity simply because my previous Alabama driver’s license said I was a man. It was also there that I decided to serve a Federal lawsuit against the State of Alabama, challenging their right to define transgender peoples’ identity, dignity and worth. And it is there, today, that I celebrated my community, remember where we’ve been, and look with hope for a brighter, safer tomorrow.
And we are standing at a great divide between what our world is now and what our world may become. At its worse, discrimination and oppression loom over our community like a malevolent spectre, challenging our very right to feel safe and to live a life in pursuit of liberty and happiness. Less severe but just as deadly, apathy, moral disengagement, and microagression threaten to undermine the progress we have made as a community and as a nation. But it is not just hatred, bigotry, and fear which stand in the path of a brighter, safer, and more affirming future. We as a larger community of LGBTQ+ people, subconsciously or purposefully, weaken our own progression toward becoming a better version of ourselves. Our myopic fixation on white, gay masculine culture as our norm, our mindset of bi now gay later, and the complete erasure of anything but obvious tokenism of lesbian, transgender, queer, asexual, pansexual, intersex, 2Spirit, polyamorous plus identities reinforces the rampant racism, sexism, biphobia, and transphobia that tears our community apart and leaves many waiting anxiously in the fringes of our community begging to be heard. We have forgotten, or perhaps don’t care, that Pride has its roots in a group of black trans women having enough of police brutality at the Stonewall Inn and resisting the evil of bigotry and violence. We certainly have done little as a community to elevate the voices of trans women of color, and queer people of color, despite the fact that the majority of the victims of anti-LGBTQ+ violence are disproportionately black, trans, and women. Nor have we made much of an effort to diversify the organizations serving the LGBTQ+ community. Even we are not immune. The Foundation does not have a single person of color on its staff or on its board, a fact which distresses me considerable because I am painfully aware of how stereotypes remain intact when we fail to have representation of all people. Our lack of diversity has not been from a lack of trying to recruit. The reality is, that when a community has a history of ignoring or tokenizing voices of color, those voices tend, and rightly so, to not trust a white woman asking them to join her organization. We can, and must, do better. Because when we fail to include the voices of all ethnicities, we are complicit in the rampant systemic racism of our culture, our community, and our programming. While it is easy and frankly predictable to celebrate those who have made our community visible in the national arena, we must not do so at the expense of failing to give a voice and a platform to the gritty, ugly, and painful realities faced by the most marginalized amongst us: Bisexual individuals who feel ostracized by the LGBTQ+ community when they are in a relationship with someone of the same sex or gender, polyamorous people who fight against the slut-shaming that comes with being in love with more than one person, asexual people on the receiving end of intrusive questions, trans people whose very right to exist is at the forefront of our national discourse, and 2Spirit, intersex people, and the plethora of other identities which never get mentioned at all and thus live in a state of identity homelessness. Nor should we forget to honor and celebrate the unsung everyday heroes in our own communities who sacrifice their time, money, and wellbeing to make our local community safer, more affirming. We, as a community, have not progressed to where we are by being popular, entertaining, or by trending on social media. Nor will we successfully create a healthy, vibrant community that challenges the world’s stereotypes of us by living within the narrow confines of our own perspectives and focusing only on the aspects of our community that entertain us rather than combining that celebration with a sober reflection on our history and educating our neighbors on the whole of LGBTQ+ identity. We have advanced, and will continue to advance, by ordinary acts of every-day courage, by not pushing what is palatable but by boldly confronting the evil which threatens to destroy our very identities and existence. As we move forward on our journey together, I challenge you all to listen to and elevate those voices which are most ignored in our society and in our community at-large. I challenge you (especially our allies) to dig deep into your pockets, until it hurts, and fund local, small LGBTQ+ organizations which work tirelessly, often thanklessly, and on the verge of bankruptcy to improve the lives of our communities. I challenge you to enjoy our community’s rich history of pushing boundaries, exploring identity, and creating community through drag performance and to find other mediums for community building and celebrating and educating ourselves and others on the rich and ever-changing tapestry that is our community. Most importantly, I challenge you to resist that evil, both external and in our midst, which seeks to destroy us. It has come for us in our bedrooms, and we have resisted. It is coming for us in our bathrooms, and we shall resist. It is coming for us in our driver’s license offices and halls of government and we shall resist. It is coming for us in our schools, on our college campuses, in our clubs, and in our churches, and we shall resist. And, if it comes to our front door and drags out of our homes, we shall resist. Because we shall never give up, never surrender our sacred right to define our own dignity and worth. Happy Pride, Darcy J. Corbitt-Hall She/Her/Hers President and CEO Notice Board
Today is National Coming Out Day, a time for LGBTQ+ people to come out, celebrate coming out, and honor those who have paved the way for them to come out. I was reminded today as I walked across campus toward my office of my own process of coming out. I remember being terrified of the prospects surrounding living a life that was open and affirming of who I was. Ultimately, I lost the right of coming out when a family friend outed me to my parents.
The aftermath was as awful as I had imagined and more. Nevertheless, I persisted. The pain of losing my right to choose when and how I began my open and affirming life could have destroyed me. Instead, I used it to fuel my fight for equality and for the health and wellbeing of transgender, gender queer, gender nonconforming, and nonbinary individuals. The work that I do is the result of people seeking me out, because of my visibility as a trans woman in Alabama, and asking for advice. The emails and letters I answered would serve the basis for MyTransitionPartner.com. If anyone ever tells you that we don’t need a Coming Out Day, then remind them of the importance of visibility. I came out because I saw other transgender people around me living their truth, and I wanted the same joy and privilege of doing just that. In turn, I know of at least three people I have inspired to live their truth, and I have had the distinct honor of providing financial assistance, both from my own pocket and from this Foundation, that has enabled dozens of transgender people to start their journey toward a better version of themselves. Visibility is a form of resistance, a way of standing up against those who want us to not exist. Today, on National Coming Out Day, I have many different hopes for you:
Have a wonderful day of visibility, reflection, and support! Darcy Notice Board
As we enter the swing of Pride month, I have been reflecting on what Pride means to me as a transgender woman living in a rural state. Living in North Dakota, as in many other rural states, can be incredibly isolating for LGBTQ+ individuals. In the hostile political climate in which transgender, queer, and gender nonconforming current find themselves, this feeling of isolation carries the additional burden of fear for personal safety, economic stability, and the freedom to live an open and affirming life. When I came out as transgender, I remember all-to-well the intense feeling of isolation and disconnection in my home state of Alabama. I remember the desperation of trying to navigate my transition while having little to no mentorship or support. For a long time I felt I was in a free-fall of emotional anguish, psychological stress, and identity crisis. This spiral resulted in an inevitable crash, and from this crash MyTransitionPartner was born. My biggest challenge was knowing where to start, trying to understand who I was, and discerning what information on the internet was true and which was false. Navigating this path of transition was perilous indeed. I found strength in writing about my frustration and about the solutions and lessons I learned from my journey. In 2015, I decided to publish much of what I had written and compiled on my personal website in the form of resource pages. By the middle of 2016, my resource pages were getting an average of 300 views per day. Our entry into this new era of alt-facts and fear-based public policy pushed me to transform a pet project into a legitimate charity. Pride, for me, is the bold confrontation of that unknown hideous strength which seeks to choke out the very flame of our beautiful and unique existence. Pride is the realization that in boldly accepting ourselves and our identity and reclaiming our narrative we become an even greater strength to rival even the vilest attacks on our dignity and worth as human beings. It is this pride which prompted me in December 2016, to take a major leap of faith and incorporate my website as a nonprofit community foundation. Since officially launching to the public on Tuesday, I have received messages from transgender folk and their allies thanking me for this resource. A common theme has been "I wish I had this when I came out" and "thank you for giving me a place to send people when they come out to me." Wednesday, I attended a community meeting where many transgender people discussed how the expense of legal name changes makes being an authentic version of who they are very difficult. I was greatly moved by this especially in light of the fact that we will be rolling out five name change grants in July that will help transgender people in North Dakota move one step closer to the person they've always been. All of this has been made possible by the generosity of our donors and and generosity of our volunteers. I want to especially praise the (now 8) people who give of their time and talents to the community a better place for transgender, queer, and gender nonconforming people. Because of their gift, we can give 85% of our donations back to the community. And now, I am going to ask you to give back. In May, we surpassed last year's fundraising total of $2,500. In order to double our ability to help transgender people through our name change grants, we need to raise an additional $2,500 by the end of the summer. If everyone on our mailing list gave $50 today, we would more than amply surpass that goal. Anyone can share a meme or video. Anyone can dance and celebrate at Pride. True pride, true allyship comes in recognizing where we have been, where we are, where we want to go, and what it will take for us to make it there. Living your pride or allyship is courageously joining in to help make it happen. Will you live your pride and allyship with us this June? Darcy J. Corbitt-Hall President and CEO Notice Board •The first issue of Pathways has gone out. The next issue will be a full magazine publication, and should be released in August. Read Pathways at PathwaysMag.blog •Justice Taylor has joined the Foundation as the Director of Publications and will serve as the Editor-in-Chief of our quarterly Magazine, Pathways •Five name change grants have been funded. An additional $1,000 is needed to fund the remaining ten we wish to offer in 2017.[Donate] •Summer Internship Program will begin on June 1. •Becoming An Ally Full Training is being offered in June in partnership with St. Stephen’s Church in Fargo. [Learn more] •Q2 Board Meeting is June 24, from 2-2:30. To join the call, contact us. |
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Darcy Jeda Corbitt Foundation is a 501(c)(3) public charity promoting the health and global wellbeing of transgender, queer, and gender nonconforming individuals. All donations are tax-deductible to the fullest extent allowed by US Federal Tax Code.
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“Darcy Jeda Corbitt,” and the “DJC” logo are trademarks of Darcy J. Corbitt-Hall, used under license.
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“MyTransitionPartner,” “Here for a better version of you,”, and the trans flag heart logos are trademarks of Darcy Jeda Corbitt Foundation, Inc.