Month: July 2024

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For our self-defense class with Forge, our homework was to create our own personal Bill of Rights– we go over techniques to create and enforce our boundaries. Here’s a rough draft of what I have, via alphabetical order. I jotted down the first thing that came to mind, and the items in italics are the ones I like the best.

…also an excuse to test some new plugins.

assess my energy level at any time, and adjust accordingly

be prepared

cause a scene to be heard

devalue those that would devalue me

engage in ways that honor me

find peace

get to safety

help in ways that i can

instinct- follow it

joy – feel it

keep on truckin’

leave

mind my manners / mindfulness

need to express myself in healthy ways

only observe (no participation is mandatory)

protect

quote

rest

stay balanced

talk it out

use examples

vent (again, in a healthy way)

wax poetic

xylophone (I got nuthin’)

yield

z (again, nuthin)

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If it’s one thing I’ll always love about dressing up, it’s all the accessorizing. Combinations are limitless, and your flair can be as small or large as you want it. I have a full shelf dedicated to various jewelry sets (most of it loud costume-y pieces), buttons, and pins– not to mention all the bags and purses threatening to fall on my head every time I open the closet door, and my growing collection of headbands.

My bling (we used to say that– do we still say that?) veers toward nerdy (a Kingdom Hearts necklace), pretty, quirky (chainsaw earrings), retro, and classy-because-I-had-to-be. The pins and buttons were reserved for that extra oompth and/or random silly thing. What was missing were all the pronoun buttons I amassed over the years…

I was taking a Staycation and spent a few days checking out the local queer film fest. I was having a blast, shooting the shit with new people as we got a card game started.

Then I heard it: the wrong one.

"Yo," I interject, "I use they/them." I tried to add a little humor as I pointed to my pronoun button: "It’s right here next to my cleavage. I know you’ve seen it!" The game started, and we played a few rounds until seating for that night’s film became available. The night went on, and I went home.

I was there for the last day of the film festival, too. I’m by myself this time to catch a special viewing and discussion. I was proud of myself– I mingled, was only a little awkward, and carried out a few conversations without stuttering. "I use they/them pronouns," I heard myself say, after my name, and I reminded here and there. The button by itself proved to be too subtle.

Then came the discussion portion of the morning. The producer, who I struck the strongest conversations with, went up to the podium. And pointed me out due to how excited I was about learning more BIPOC queer history. To thank me for supporting her. They used

she.

I smiled, awkwardly, trying to match our earlier enthusiasm.

The they/them button on my shirt felt so heavy. My heart behind it was breaking.

I don’t recall much of what happened after that; all a blur or blotted out over time. But I remember going home and ripping the button off and crying.

I try to be understanding when– not if– this happened in other ‘mainstream’ spaces. But there, I was surrounded by queer people. This was the crowd that was supposed to get it. But, no matter where I was, I always worked under the assumption that a button could be easily missed.

So I still declared.

And I corrected.

And that still never seemed to be enough.

I didn’t see the point in wearing pronoun buttons if everyone was just going to ignore them.

So I put them all away.

The years without them… haven’t changed much.

I get what my partners call "apology tours" when I correct someone. (Protip: just utter a quick ‘sorry’ if you must, then move on.)

I have officially Heard Them All– the excuses. And to those I can only hiss: "Don’t care. Do better."

I don’t bother correcting close-enough acquaintances. If they didn’t get it by now, they’re not going to. And they won’t be invited into my house.

Some queer spaces have been getting better, incorporating pronouns along with names in introduction circles. The trans-inclusive (or even better: exclusively trans) spaces are a breath of fresh air.

After a few years of them being shoved into a tiny drawer, I unearthed my pronoun buttons (and one pin). A lot of them were from Pride events or meetups, and my favorite pin– a little one, gold-on-white– was a birthday gift. Each one I held in my hand, remembering.

I put one on for the LGBTQ picnic last month.

It felt nice.

I may wear it some more.

A variety of they/them pronoun pins.

 

I have my oasis. My partners and allies are always willing to go to bat for me. More people have been trying and I’m sure to thank them. But beyond that?

The buttons don’t work.

The just telling you doesn’t work.

Throwing out my CashApp and keeping tabs on each mistake isn’t working either, but at least I can buy a six pack now and then.

Positive reinforcement only works if the other party actually cares, and a lot of people still don’t. What started as a joke is going to be a serious undertaking as I begin bringing a spray bottle to the function, because I might as well have fun and use the excuse to be obnoxious.

Because if I don’t laugh about it, I’ll begin crying in frustration. And, really, I’m tired of crying.

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I may have been a little too excited in firing off a hasty fangirl-y email to an address that probably isn’t even monitored anymore, but I was so happy that I found the site I’ve been alluding to since college. All I had to do, all this time, was to browse my old middle-and-high school files for a certain animation with a certain username on it.

A cursor of Chibi Usa's attack

 

Blink and you miss it: http:// members. aol. com/ chibiusa97.(1) The pieces fell into place from there. So I sent an email. …Well, less polished and rushed than what you see here, perhaps, but the sentiment is the same.

Hello,

As I tend to do as Web 3.0 breathes down our necks, I sit back and reminisce about The Old Web… when everyone built their own little piece. I remember your website dedicated to Chibi Usa, who was also my favorite Sailor Scout. You had one of my favorite web pages in the late 90s, so I was always a little saddened that I could never remember the URL or who you were.

So, imagine my delight when I came across one of your old .ani files in my archives! A quick search of your username later and I navigated to your CS100 assignment. It’s still up, after all these decades. Coming across sites like that is like peering back into time.

The Internet is/was a very cool place, and I’m still amazed at how information is communicated on this medium, and how it has grown.

And how sites have inspired me, such as yours.

So I want to say, thank you. As a kid in 1997 browsing the Web in middle school Computer Club, to the almost-40 adult who still has a passion for this sort of thing. I hope you’re still in it, enjoying anime, and I hope this email reaches you well.

Take care,
“me”

I propose a toast for ChibiUsa97, and all the ChibiUsa97s still floating around, coding and enjoying what they love.

Chibi Usa, looking lovingly at a soda with her face on it.

 

(1) That link no longer works, natch. However, you can view the page on the Wayback Machine. That hyperlink points to the version I’m most familiar with, but do slide around the timeline and see how it changed over the years!