To Write Or Not To Write: That Is The Question:
(Or, Is Self-Censorship Becoming Necessary?)

By Diane S. Frank

FOR about three years now I’ve been writing about what I do out - where I go, who I meet, and what we do and talk about. Then, I’ll drop into an internet forum where people are breathlessly discussing the firsts in their lives - the first time they wore this, the first time out the door, the first time shopping, etc. Or, I’ll read about wives not understanding husbands from either side and so forth. I could list a number of other popular topics, but the real point is that what I talk about isn’t out there. In part that makes me glad I write what I write. Clearly there is an unfilled need for someone to write about something other than first time outs, guilt, shame, marital problems, and sexuality. After all, those first times turn into second times and then 40th times.

I’m in one of those “writing about writing” moods. So I’m going to write a bit about some current problems I have been thinking about.

One of the problems that crossdressing groups have is that the more trans-whatever people tend to end up running them, often as a vehicle for their own transition - a form of commitment to the process. In that process they can and have driven away people who don’t share that attitude. We’ve seen it at AO. I “pass” for transsexual, and I just had another instance of it yesterday. There aren’t any crossdressers in Cleveland who do what I do that I know of. So I wonder if my not writing about what I wear, or how I put on makeup, or about coming out or guilt or shame or which dressing rooms or women’s bathrooms I invaded is a case of not giving the readers what they want. Do I write too much like what people expect from someone engaged in transition? Does what I write scare people away from Alpha Omega? That wouldn’t be good for them, or for our organization. But it could be so much worse. Since I get almost no feedback on these columns, I have no idea.

There’s another problem about what I write, and that is how it affects spouses and significant others. When you look at my life, and more problematically my writing about it, am I a "bad influence"? Does my simple reporting of the things I do - going to temple, being in a book club, being in show, doing this that and the other thing in public - scare people, especially spouses? It's one thing to go out on Halloween when it's all obviously a costume, and quite another to think of me having tea at high noon on a weekday in the middle of Cleveland Heights, with Z and a woman from the book circle.

There are two schools of thought (and more) on this. Some women prefer that the CD in their lives operate at a level of fantasy. Please wear the little girl dresses and the southern belle outfits, but whatever you do, don't look like a real woman. Other women think, if you're going to dress like a woman, at least look like a normal respectable person, not a walking fetish advertisement. So I could or should terrify the women who prefer an air of unreality about the whole thing. Maybe I shouldn’t write about these things?

Here’s an alternative experience I’m working from: Back when I was learning to folk dance I realized there was a structure to the evening. At the beginning dances are taught, at a variety of levels of difficulty. Later in the evening requests are taken and as the evening goes on, more and more difficult dances are done. If you don’t play the more difficult dances, advanced dancers don’t come. And if advanced dancers don’t come, then there’s no one for the beginners to learn from. Sometimes it’s just fun to watch. You need the mix.

The problem with this thinking is that it characterizes what I do as advanced and something others should do or ought to aspire to. I don’t believe that. Yes, I think some people would like to do what I do. I hope some like reading about it and find it useful. But I don’t think they ought to want to do what I do. Or that they shouldn’t. My opinion doesn’t count. It’s their lives. But, maybe I should write about those experiences less?

Interesting things have happened as I integrate my life as “part-time” or “commuting” or “summer visitor” woman into mainstream society. My temple, Chevrei Tikva has become part of a mainstream temple. I’m the canary in the coalmine. If there is some invisible toxic atmosphere I’ll likely be the first to notice it. You will note that I’m not mentioning the name of the temple? That’s because while Chevrei Tikva was explicitly formed as a refuge for GBLT people who were rejected by mainstream temples, I don’t yet feel comfortable having someone google the new temple’s name and coming to our website. It was one thing for people at Chevrei Tikva to contend with an article comparing our search for identities as what ever kind of T* we are to the historical quest we have to understand what it means to be a Jew. I’m not ready to force that on the new Temple. I really don’t want to encourage the breathless dialogue that will occur if someone googles the new temple’s name. “Did YOU know you have crossdresser in your congregation???!!!” At the very least I’d like a breather, a space for people to get to know me as a person before they are called upon to be personally responsible for their acceptance of my presence there.

So not only will I not be using my new Temple’s name, I won’t be writing much about what goes on there. I’ve already done several stories or anecdotes; I doubt much more will be of general interest unless you are Jewish. What I will talk about as time goes on is where I run into the general problem of disclosure... which I seem to be running into at every turn.

Another place where I’m increasingly engaged is a book club. I’ve mentioned this in a previous column in which I discussed how I was invited to join. I recounted some of the discussion that stood out. I haven’t mentioned it since. I think there is a difference between a public forum and reporting on that, and a private, by invitation only meeting in someone’s house. Certainly, I’ve been made aware that this is exactly the concern that women in the group have. I’ve been told that a few do have concerns with my being there... more as a matter of disclosure than anything else. The e-mail discussions about that lead to my column last month comparing kinds of crossdressing with tourism and commuting. I talked about this with a friend of mine who participates in a women’s Torah study group that another member invited me to join, but I haven’t attended yet. It took a year for the Rabbi to tell me it was ok with the membership for me to come. My friend commented that women really do want to be able to speak their mind, to “bash” as she put it without worrying about some men thought, to say (for example) that a woman would have stood up to G*d if asked to sacrifice her son.

So again, I think my path has taken me to a place where I can’t take members of Alpha Omega and other readers along with me. What I learn that is useful I can share in some other context, but some curtains will be drawn from now on. Both for privacy, and for fear of being a bad example.