Newsletter
ARCHIVE

[Upfront] The Month
[First Person] Some Thoughts
[Haiku] With whispers
[The Bard] Sex, Lies and Transvestities
[A CD Eye for the Arts] Paintings by Marine Karbowski
[From the Archive] I Need Answers, I Need Help - November 1993
[In The News] TransOhio.org call for writers
[Last Laugh] Walking... in five-inch heels...

[Upfront]
THE MONTH

As with E. F. Hutton, when chairman Gloria Fenton speaks, I listen. 'Nuff said.

Diane Frank attends the Cleveland Public Theater performance of Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure" and provides her review here.

Travesti (transvestite) is the subject for a series of paintings by French artist - Marine Karbowski. Three of a series of ten are presented here. Originally from Avignon, Marine now lives in Paris.

TransOhio.Org wants your talents! Their mission: "We'd like to see our community more connected and more involved with one another, see bridges built to other communities and these silos that we've lived in for so long broken down."

Thirteen years ago current member, Deborah Lee, talked of fighting the good fight. And yes, she and Elaine (the other Elaine) are still together! (first time on the web)

There's humor, Haiku, and more!

Elaine

[First Person]
THOUGHTS

By Gloria FENTON

I do remember the first time I ever went out in public dressed as a woman. The clothes I wore belonged to my wife Sandy, as did the shoes and the jewelry I wore. My makeup was make up that I had bought for myself, and my hair was a wig that my wife had given me, that was like her hair in color and style.

My wife Sandy was away on a trip, and I wanted to get dressed up so bad, and look like a real woman. I even shaved my legs for the first time to look even more like a woman. As I dressed up and did my make up and wig, I saw that I did very much look like my wife, and did look like a real woman. I knew inside me that I wanted someone to see me. I needed to be seen. And so I went for a drive, and I was seen. To them I was a woman, and I liked knowing that. I admit, too, that I liked knowing that I looked like Sandy. It added to the realness I felt, to feel that I had an identity.

It felt good to be seen as a real woman, but really the best part was being real and complete within myself. It had been a long time since I had felt real and complete within myself, as a woman. That was a bit of a surprise to me. The realness I felt inside myself meant more than being seen or fooling anybody. Yes, I had liked looking like Sandy. I had liked being seen, and I had liked fooling people. But as I lay in bed that night, in one of Sandy’s prettiest nightgowns, I did not need anyone to see me, or to fool anybody. What I felt inside me was all that mattered. Even looking like Sandy didn’t matter then. It was just me, in bed, knowing what I felt inside me.

Many years later, I remember the first time I went out in public as Gloria. I was encouraged to do so as a way of really getting to know about being Gloria, and I did want to know about being Gloria and being this part of me that I had finally accepted. I know that at least two people did “read” me that day, but other than that I was seen by many. To them I was the woman they saw me as. I did “pass.” It did feel good. But as I thought about it later, my passing really did not matter. People believing I was a woman, did not matter. My believing in who I am was the real importance.

Even more, I realized that people knowing me as Gloria and wanting to know me as Gloria did matter. I was glad I did go out that day because I began to see what really mattered to me as Martin and as Gloria. As more time went on I learned so much more about being me and being Martin. I realized that I did not have the slightest clue why, but that I was Martin, and I was Gloria. We are both real as human beings.

To me, it was not a matter of being a man or being a woman, but being me. The more I knew that, as I told a very dear friend of mine, I knew that the clothes I wear do not make me Martin or Gloria. What is in my heart, mind, and soul are who I am as Martin and as Gloria. As I can not explain why I am Martin and Gloria, I cannot be one, without the other. I also cannot flip a switch and be Martin at any specific time, and be Gloria at another specific time. It doesn’t work that way for me. I know, though, that there are times when others expect to physically see Martin or Gloria. At times I can do that. Other times I can’t.

I have had times when, for personal reasons, I could not shave my hands or arms, and it was Martin that people saw at a meeting. They seem to have been disappointed that I did not look like Gloria, and to a point, I do understand that. I would hope, however, that they will understand at those times, call it vanity, if you will, that “Gloria” does not have hairy hands and arms, and I don’t want to be seen that way.

I have, over the years, known others who did not come to meetings at all because they could not dress or be their feminine self for various reasons. I have always told them that their being there with friends is more important than the clothes they wear.

In about eighteen years of my being Gloria, there have been approximately 210 AO meetings. I haven’t kept count, but I doubt that I have missed more than twelve meetings. I don’t believe in the meetings that I have attended that I have been Martin at more than twelve of these meetings. Based on that, I have been “Gloria” at about 184 meetings. It is in our Constitution about “cross dressers” being dressed at meetings, and that we do allow a couple meetings to attend non-dressed up. Long ago it was felt that someone claiming to be a cross dresser should not consistently come to meetings, and not “dress up” at all. I agreed with that then, and still do.

But keep in mind, its context. Our Constitution does not say that someone cannot attend a meeting because they occasionally cannot be “dressed up.” Also, nobody has ever encouraged members to get together outside of meetings, as much as I have, whether it was “dressed up” or “non-dressed up.” I am glad Chloe has taken up that challenge. I am proud of her for that, because it is needed for those who need safe venues outside of meetings. Non-dressed up venues are also important. That is why Kathy and I have our cook out.

I will admit, Chloe, that I myself am not much for going out in public. For me, a night playing Trivial Pursuit with friends means more to me. Long ago, we used to (once a year) have a “pajama party” at someone’s home. That was a lot of fun, too. I have been teased that I am afraid of going out in public, and I won’t say that something happening is not a concern of mine. I have to be realistic about that for my good, and for Kathy’s. But, mostly, my need to go out as Gloria is not as great as it is for others.

I have been out as Gloria. I have passed, and I have been read. I have been stopped by the police, and gotten a ticket. I have been whistled at, and winked at. And I have had someone come on to me, wanting a lot more than being a friend. My life is not as sheltered as some may think. It has, however, made me who I am. I was twenty-two when I went out as Sandy. I was thirty-eight when I found myself, as Gloria. With this article I wanted to try and explain some about why I don’t have a great need to go out as “Gloria,” and why you see Martin at a meeting at times. Jut keep in mind, if you will, that just because you “see” Martin, it doesn’t mean that I am not there.

Take care,
Glo

[Haiku]
SPRING MOODS

[The Bard]
SEX, LIES AND TRANSVESTITES

By Diane FRANK

Measure for Measure is by all accounts Shakespeare’s most sexually charged play, and difficult to hold to form, being part comedy, part tragedy and in many respects self-contradictory and chaotic. The Duke of Venice takes a vacation from his office, charging a deputy with full power to enforce the laws, and encourages him to enforce vice laws that had been ignored for some 14 years. The deputy proceeds to his task with a will, shutting down houses of prostitution and sentencing fornicators to death where mercy might simply move ahead the date of the wedding. The temptations of power are compared to the temptations of the flesh, although the Duke, whose use of power is surely the most capricious seems oblivious to the irony when he sets matters right that he steered wrong.

Measure for Measure is regarded as a challenge to produce and a challenge to act in. Shakespeare is a challenge even in the best of circumstances. The phrasing of the bard is complicated to our ears, the language now archaic and when spoken with fluency at its natural pace as hard to parse as that of any rapper. And that’s with the great plays. Shakespeare had his lesser plays as well. But they still get produced because, well, he wrote them and some people just can’t resist a challenge. Shakespeare also has the problem in today’s lights that one can’t but help see it as acting. People in today’s real life don’t declaim and don’t soliloquize. We don’t roar and whisper in the same phrase. Imagine if you will Tom Cruise dangling on a wire in Mission Impossible launching into an existential rant about value of espionage and the degradation of human values.

This month sees a new production of Measure for Measure at our favorite local theatre: Cleveland Public Theatre - one of the organizations that I think makes Cleveland a good place to live - our little slice of the Village. This production of Measure for Measure had some grand ambitions behind it: an all male cast as it was originally performed, and six actors playing multiple parts, some appearing to share parts at different times, and only one of the cast playing just a male characters. Then there’s retitling the play to M4M, something that not so coyly alludes to gay personal ads- “Male for Male.” There was also the pre-show publicity, talking about how this play will illuminate something we are concerned about - gender roles and sexuality. This was followed by the current publicity campaign “Sex, Lies and Transvestites.”

Maybe there is one transvestite in the play - an early bit part is that of a prostitute. The costume and characterization makes one think of a modern ditzy drag queen, complete with gold platform heels. Otherwise, it was simply men playing women’s parts, with greater or lesser authenticity. Outside of the drag queen/prostitute there was no sign of camp, and none of the sense of wonder you might get when you see one of the Ballet Trocadero cast execute pointe work in an effecting and convincing way. One young woman in the audience found it impossible to suspend disbelief on seeing a man with pattern baldness showing playing a woman totally besotted and making cow eyes; she found it hilarious. My guess is that is an exceptional reaction.

There is one other point in the play where the drama is “queered,” also in an early scene. Here three men discuss the state of affairs in bawdy language. Originally set on the street or a tavern, putting them amorously under a big white sheet, that is a gay orgy, did get the audience’s attention. But then, nothing. Nothing transgressive, nothing that satirized gender roles, nothing where you cared at all whether the actors playing the parts were male or female. Perhaps the director thought not having the actors speak in higher pitched voices would somehow persuade us that this was really an all male world. It didn’t work, even for the actors who in moments of drama found their voices naturally rising in pitch and changing inflection to inhabit conventionally feminine interpretations. Otherwise, they were women with low voices.

This is then, not a production to go to because of the publicity. It’s one you go to because you’ll find good acting, cunning staging and sets, imaginative costumes. It’s one you can go to because Cleveland Public Theatre is a safe and friendly venue and you just want a night out that has some highbrow class to it.

I was taken by Ashley Davenport’s performances, his Escalus, Pompey and Sr. Francisca were distinct and showed a great range from subtle to farcical. John Paul Soto’s Isabella was affecting, his Barnadine a convincing drunk. Michael Mauldin’s Duke was suitably majestic, if more of a deus ex machina than anything else, an excuse to have a plot. Jenniver Sparano’s costumes were spare, versatile elegant and suggestive…except for “Mistress Overdone,” who stood out as too camp for the rest of the play.

TRAVESTI

By Marine Karbowski

Travestis, 2004

Maquillage, 2004

Personne, 2004

visit Marine's website

[From the Archive]
La Femme Silhouette - November 1993

I NEED ANSWERS, I NEED HELP

By Deborah LEE

There's been a lot on my mind, there's been a lot going on in my heart, there's been a lot going on in my life and I need help understanding a phenomenon. This phenomenon has to do with the heart, especially the heart of those close to the crossdresser (CD), transgendered (TG), or transsexual (TS) person. I don't mean our families, since we do not choose our families. I mean our spouses, significant others (SO's) whom we chose, and I hope, they chose us.

We as CD's, TG's, and TS's are quite a challenge, not only our own understanding but to the understanding of spouses and SO's. I can say with all truth, I do not completely know who I am, nor do I know exactly where I am going. So with this uncertainty, I can say emphatically, Elaine, my spouse, is in for a ride.

I believe the area of gender expression is an area that very few are even fully aware of as a choice in life. Understand that most people learn at a young age that gender expression is not an option, it is the result of our genitalia and therefore the outward expression gets dictated to us by society, church, or families and our friends. This edict is not a problem to most, for they would not choose to have it any other way. But, for the few of us that do question this edict, there can be trouble. As we, the dissenters, go about trying to make what we feel is wrong, right, those who have accepted to be our partners endure the flight from the "norm" into the realm of "inconsistent with the norm".

This is not the spouse's or 50's battle, they, for the most part, understand the edict that gender and genitalia should be homogeneous, congruent, a signal and a statement of what a person is. Yet, because of their alignment with us through love and attachment, our war has become their war.

A lot of us lived, and many fought, in a battle that was unpopular. It was called a police action, it was called a war, and it was called Vietnam. How many fought and lost their lives for an unpopular viewpoint. How many were victims, how many lost their identities, how many were maimed, mutilated, how many lost families, how many asked the question "WHY?" Why are we here, why are we dying when the results were not decisive, when the win or loss didn't seem to make that much of a difference in our lives?

I believe that some spouses and SO's, may be asking the same questions. Why am I caught in a battle that shouldn't be waged? Why am I risking humiliation when it's not my battle? Why am I risking my heart, love, compassion and self worth for something that will only cause long-term turmoil to my social standing and health of my home and family?

For the transgendered person, there is no question of why, since this is part of their identity and self-acceptance, whether society, family or anyone else accepts it or not. This is a war that was waged many years ago, an action that the CD, TG or TS understand and they are sometimes willing to fight and correct. To the transgendered person, the act of tinkering around with one's gender expression is something that needs to be done and is not a sacred cow. It is a tool that helps lead one to fulfillment through outward gender expression, through revelation, though expressing that which is within. To be viewed by all, to remove the other's doubt, therefore, becoming truthful. Is it not noble to be truthful? Is it not horrible to be deceitful or feel like one is living a lie? Is it not easier to deal with a person with whom you feel no deception? I know some salesmen would probably be out of business if they were so honest and take this stance. Is it possible to live with one's conscience while feeling deceptive?

The spouses and significant others rarely face this dichotomy since they do not experience gender conflict. But we are engaged in a conflict that they must enter into and endure if they are to try and understand and salvage the relationship. It is an unpopular war.

To help you understand me some I hope the following analogy will be helpful. Sometimes I feel like a lemming (a furry rodent, especially the genus that lives in Scandinavia) that goes full speed ahead, diving and drowning into the sea. I have gone to the edge of the water many times and seen the power of the sea, and I have even seen the sea (in my case Lake Erie) destroy, take life. In the case of the lemming, it is instinct that drives them in, not a matter of knowing why or making decisions from knowledge or experience, nor having the opportunity to make a choice. Yet I feel desperate and driven.

There was a battle waged early in my life, a few skirmishes (wearing sister's clothes) but no fatalities (I wasn't discovered to my knowledge). Having lost against some seemingly overwhelming odds (parents), I chose to retreat (from opening up and being honest about my gender dysphoria to anyone), not knowing the war was not over. In my retreat I regrouped (tried to make sense of my feelings), but in the lost of the battle (becoming honest with anyone) I forgot the war (becoming honest with myself) was not over, only deeply entrenched and hibernating within me. However, outwardly there were all the signs of a battle being fought. The depression, anxiety, self-hate, anger, eating disorders, humiliation, and general feeling of despair, which left ugly scars, scars that I had to keep hid from the public like the Phantom of the Opera. Scars that would not allow me to be comfortable with myself. As I looked at those scars, I became more and more hateful of myself. I quit the battle, I had gone A WOL (Absent With Out Leave) and I needed to be punished. And that is exactly what I did. I punished myself by abandoning myself.

When I finally started allowing my feminine side to emerge, years before I came to Alpha Omega, I started to remember the war I ran away from, but I was frightened (of what I might become) for I knew I was not prepared to fight. I had already grew accustom to the pain of losing myself. The scar tissue was so immense that I could not feel deeply about me. I could feel deeply about others, but again, not about me. As the frequency of my crossdressing increased, the scar tissue started abating, I started to feel that which had been lost for years. But I was not ready to engage the enemy - my fears. When Alpha Omega came into my life, I still could not feel deeply within myself, so I poured myself into feeling deeply about others like myself. I was unaware that I was healing, recovering and willing to accept the consequences for my being A WOL from the war.

This war I am engaged in is not Elaine's. Yet she is involved by association and is getting wounded at times. I do not wish for her to get hurt. But it seems that war has its casualties.

I tried to prepare Elaine for the war by telling her before we were married that I was a crossdresser. This was a feeble attempt to protect her from the war I had not returned to and to absolve me from the guilt that might arise should I make choices. Later I knew the war was emanate and I knew she could be hurt.

I ask myself, why on earth did she say, "so your a crossdresser, what's the problem? I still love you." It was at that time, Elaine became a participant in a war that neither I nor she knew the magnitude of or the rules for engagement. Now I am asking why should any woman accept the consequences of a relationship, when neither party is totally aware to the scope and magnitude of the consequences.

I could go on and on about this subject, but what I really want to do is to give everyone something to think about. Remember the question of the month that we used to have in the newsletter. Well, how about considering this one:

1. Should the CD, TG or TS be required to hold the line on how far their investigations into their gender identity takes them when there is a spouse or significant other involved? (i.e. should there be self-imposed or spousal, SO demands made of them?)

2. Should the CD, TG, or TS not get involved with someone who might become their spouse or significant other whenever there is any doubt about the gender identity of a CD, TG or TS?

3. Is it possible to know that one is having gender conflict verses a desire to dress as a woman?

4. Should the spouse or significant other take some responsibility for being involved with a CD, TG or TS once they have gained knowledge of their partner's gender conflict?

I hope these and other questions will be asked at a meeting and become basis for some meaningful and enlightened discussion by all.

Love, Debbie

[In The News]
CALL FOR WRITERS

TransOhio.Org
For the Trans-community, resources can be scattered, disorganized and are often left to be passed on to others by word of mouth. Sometimes, good information is so underground, it's hard to find.

Our short-term goal is to publish a local, monthly newsletter which includes the recurring following:
•  calendar of local (and national) workshops and events
•  book and movie reviews or recommendations
•  online resources
•  local trans-friendly doctors, services, support groups, counselors, etc.
•  GLBTQI identities in the Trans-world
•  local professionals
•  legal processes for transitioning in the state of Ohio
•  guest writers

Everybody has something to share - something to say. Our intention is to have this “written by the community, for the community.”

From you, we're looking for:
•  poetry & essays (fiction & non-fiction)
•  opinion essays
•  coming out letters to family & friends
•  photos
•  artwork (drawings, paintings, etc.)
•  local experiences of FTMs/MTFs
•  things for trade/sale: binders, wigs, clothing exchanges, etc.

What's important to you? What makes your soul warm and your heart happy? That's what we're looking for!

Why do we want to do this? We'd like to see our community more connected and more involved with one another, see bridges built to other communities and these silos that we've lived in for so long broken down. We'd like to see people write and share their experiences with other people. Share the highs, talk about the lows.

We have a wealth of information that each of us carries around, daily, consistently - and we should use that as a catalyst for education, political and social change. But even more so, we need to share our experiences with those who are beginning their own journey.

Interested?

[Last Laugh]

Walking is the last thing you do in five-inch heels…

By Annunziata Rees-Mogg - 23/08/2006

High heels are back. To be honest, I hadn't noticed they'd gone away. But this season, to the concern of chiropodists and orthopaedic surgeons everywhere, they are high. Very high.

Having worn heels virtually every day since I left school (where they were strictly banned), I was thrilled by the prospect of wearing a stunning pair of Christian Louboutins for a whole weekend. Then I found out that they were 13 centimetres high. As I usually think of shoes in inches - my favourite height is four - my initial reaction was shock. I was picturing a pair of shoes more than a foot tall and remembering Naomi Campbell's topple on the catwalk.

Then I saw the shoes - all five inches high of them - and fell instantly, and almost literally, in love. In them, I am six feet tall. No matter that one friend thinks they resemble frilly knickers on stilts.

These shoes exude elegance. The platform sole meant my toes actually touched the floor and the whole design fitted the contours of my feet to perfection. There was just one problem: it was pouring with rain, and these delicate satin creations would not cope with a single puddle.

Thankfully, the weather cleared up and I set out for dinner. My first few steps were rather tentative. The shoes may only be an inch higher than my usual evening pair, but that one small inch makes all the difference. My ankles were shaking. Walking was hard enough, trying to stand still was worse. Waiting at traffic lights, I had to shift my weight from one position to another, while avoiding the urge to start wind-milling my arms to stay upright. I began to curse the person who invented cobblestones. Then I neared Bond Street and caught a reflection of my feet in a shop window. The sheer elegance of what I saw - ankles thinner, feet smaller, legs longer, much, much longer - was worth every painful pigeon step.

By the time I arrived at the restaurant, however, I felt exhausted. I had taken twice as many steps as normal and had also taken twice as long. I was late. I was flustered. And I would only be more so when I realised there was one final obstacle in store.

Our table was in the basement, down a long flight of narrow stairs. Despite 10 years of ballet and regular wearing of four-inch heels in the most inappropriate circumstances, I clung on to the handrail for dear life.

The new high, high heels might be beautiful, but don't try running, walking, standing still or anything much else in them. They are designed only for those with chauffeurs - or for the bedroom.

Alpha Omega is a non-profit social support group for heterosexual crossdressers and their wives or partners. Also, members from related organizations, helping professionals, and approved guests are welcome when cleared through Alpha Omega’s officers. We serve Cleveland and nearby Northeast Ohio communities.

Meetings are the second Saturday evening of each month unless a special event is scheduled that takes the place of the regularly scheduled meeting. The location of the meeting or event is only released to members or others with the approval of an officer. Members and visitors must be 18 years of age or older.

This newsletter is copyright 1998-2006 by The Alpha Omega Society. All rights reserved. Articles and information contained in this newsletter may be reprinted by other non-profit crossdresser organizations with advance permission of the author and provided a copy of the issue containing the reprinted material is sent to Alpha Omega within two months after the material is published and proper credit is given to author and source. The opinions or statements contained in this newsletter are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Alpha Omega.

Contributions of articles are welcomed, but may be altered in the editing process, with the author’s intent retained, or may be rejected, whether solicited or not. Absolutely no sexually explicit material will be accepted or printed.

We will exchange newsletters with any other similar group. Send all correspondence to Alpha Omega, P.O. Box 2053, Sheffield Lake, OH 44054.

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