by Debralee Krahmer

I am new at this challenge of identifying as transgendered. I have read books and articles by gays, lesbians, transgendered individuals or straights who have been that way for years or even decades, but I'm not there yet. I'm still a queer on a quest, so to speak--a mere baby in this world I am just discovering. It has only been in the last year that I've finally found a term I could live with as an accurate representation of how I perceive myself. Transgendered. Or, more accurately, male-oriented transgendered individual. Gay man assigned female at birth? Fag in disguise? Maybe someday I'll find a term that I like better, but for now I'm sticking with it.

If there has been one thing I've learned in my years of queer research and my months as a transgendered-identified person is that there is no end to the number of terms that exist out there. Definitions, however, are up the imagination, for they are as fluid as sexuality and just as much fun to play with. Thank the Goddess! With a term, however, comes a gaggle of questions and loads of misunderstanding. Perhaps it was easier when I told people I'm straight. At least then they could easily reconcile my female appearance with my desire for men.

I don't pass as a man; I don't even try. My goal in identifying as transgendered has been to accept myself, not change who I am. Though I do have dreams of a glam drag show where I dress up as fairy rocker Curt Wild (from the cult movie Velvet Goldmine) and prance about on stage, I don't see that I should have to change who I am everyday to fit into an accepted mold for transgendered individuals. We are not a stereotype; we are individuals who deal with our transgendered status in a myriad of ways. I like my feminine name just fine, and my breasts don't really get in the way most days. However, being myself has made it difficult to be accepted as transgendered. People look at me and see a straight woman. It makes me better appreciate those who have gone through a more drastic change to make their gender more apparent.

I want to be out. I mean really out. I want to announce it to the world, put it on a T-Shirt, wear it on my sleeve, snarl at anyone who would dare hiss at me as I mount the stage and scream, "I am transgendered!" Perhaps that is just a fact of being so young and new to this identity term. I don't actually tell everyone in my life; I figure if a situation comes up when it is important, I'll tell the truth. I don't try to hide it, but in a way I have more "protective coloring" than most FTMs because I am also self-identified as being a gay man. My "faggish" tendencies translate into a more female mode of behavior as I continue to live as a female. While I wince at being a stereotype, some days I am just a screaming fairy--and no one notices!

I am out in that I am who I always have been, just with a new title and an extra sense of comfort in acting how I feel. I sometimes wish, though, that I were more visible. I am a professional librarian entering the terminal semester of my Master's degree. I work in the reference department of my university. As a librarian, my work is information access. I constantly face the stereotype of being Marion the Librarian--uptight, narrow-minded, unsmiling Guardian of Morals utterly unapproachable and hostile to those who waver from the norm. Never mind that I'm a kinky trans gay man who will defend the Right to Access with my life. I want my GLBT patrons to know that I am just as much a part of this minority as they are, even though I look like a rather straight woman. I have the training and the resources to help them find information to answer their questions, and I will not judge them, nor will I whisper behind their backs that they are doing something wrong. I am just like you, and I want to help.

As a professional librarian as well as a transgendered individual, I want to help others find out more about who they are. Helping others helps me to learn more about myself, and to learn what the important issues are in the lesbigay and transgendered world. I've yet to find an openly FTM transgendered librarian to have as a role model, and I'm still new enough to this that I'm wary about approaching someone. I long for a role model, someone who is just like me that I can measure myself against and know that I am doing something right. In asking to be recognized as transgendered, and in searching for a role model, I realize that I am really looking for validation--for someone to authenticate that I am transgendered. Again, I find a greater appreciation those who have undergone a total physical change to match their bodies to their minds.