This shouldn’t be hard.
Your choices are, from top left to right, the scene in Washington, D.C. on Jan. 6, as the largely peaceful rally in support of President Donald Trump outside the White House turned into a march along Pennsylvania Avenue; a Transgender Rights March in June 2020 that drew 15-thousand people to Brooklyn; and the historic day in August 1963 that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke at the March on Washington. The bottom photo shows the view from the other end of the Washington Mall, as the mob of rioters and insurrectionists reached, breached and…
I was raised on this colloquial wisdom of my dad, an Irish cop and first-generation American: “You can always tell an Irishman, but you can’t tell him much!” My Jewish in-laws constantly prove the accuracy of the old saying, “Ask two Jews, get three opinions.”
We transgender folks have favorite expressions, too. My favorite is one adapted from old car commercials and ads from my youth, and is not exclusive to the trans experience: “Your Mileage May Vary,” now more likely to be seen in a hashtag as #YMMV. …
Cancer is stalking me
It’s taken me all week to process this, and share this news. A few days ago, on my mother’s birthday, I got the results of a genetic test following my annual mammogram (#12) and I learned I inherited the BRCA1 gene, putting me at “high risk” for cancer. Most folks have a one percent chance; the odds for me are 50/50.
Given the fact I lost my beloved Wendy, my father and my father in law to this killer, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. And it’s not like I’ve been diagnosed, not at all. I…
UPDATE: Human Rights Campaign tonight issued a statement regarding the publication of transphobia by The Atlantic, at my request. I’ve also reached out to GLAAD and I’ve added tweets they posted in response to the article. The HRC statement appears below. — Dawn Ennis, Wednesday, June 20, 2018
It’s been exactly four months since we rang the transphobia alarm bell, and it appears nobody empowered to act paid much attention, if any.
So today, I’m lighting up what you might call a TransBat Signal, in order to call out Jesse Singal and the editors who published this offensive screed.
by Dawn Ennis
This article, which first appeared at Into, is expanded and revised from the original published version. It’s important to note that this report about suicide may in itself be a trigger for some readers. Help is available via the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1–800–273–8255 and Trans Lifeline at 877–565–8860. LGBTQ youth 24 and younger can find help via the Trevor Project Lifeline at 1–866–488–7386.
Four years ago today I tried to kill myself. And not for the first time; that was four years ago this past Sunday.
Hard as I have fought to put those attempts…
Just about 54 years ago, I was born in Astoria, Queens, on the Roman Catholic Feast of the Annunciation. Not long after, I was baptized into the Roman Catholic faith at St. Raphael’s, a little red brick church in Long Island City, that for decades has served as a landmark alongside the Long Island Expressway approach to Manhattan. My parents married there, and we held my grandfather’s funeral there.
I received my first communion not far away at St. Gregory the Great in Bellerose; I made my confirmation, volunteered as an altar server and worked part-time as a receptionist at…
This article first appeared in The Huffington Post.
I stood still under the bright lights on the big, curved white backdrop, my left foot pointed away from the camera, my torso twisted to face it, my head tilted just so, my hands at my hips. The breeze from a fan blew gently against my Dorothy Hamill bob and put the desired flounce in my soft pastel top. I resisted the natural urge to blink as if my very life depended on it.
Modeling for catalogs wasn’t every kid’s dream of how to spend an after-school afternoon, but I was living…
May 19, 2018: I’m four days post-op and couldn’t be happier! Dr. Jess Ting did a fabulous job! And my state Medicaid program paid for it, 100 percent!
May 4, 2018: I was just informed by the insurance coordinator for my surgeon in New York City that they finally came to a financial agreement with my state Medicaid program. My long, sad saga is finally over! Surgery is a GO!
What follows is what I wrote in October 2017 about another “doctor” who deserves to lose his license.
A four-month long fight with Connecticut’s state Medicaid health insurance organization, HUSKY…
Today, I traveled back in time.
No, this is not a lost “Twilight Zone” episode. Instead of crossing a hypothetical barrier of space and dimension, I took a step on an unexpected journey across a well-worn barrier I call “The No Zone.”
The focal point of my adventure of heart, mind and soul is Hartford Hospital, where my youngest child was born more than a decade ago, where one year ago his mother died, and where I spent time this week recovering from a nasty viral infection that knocked me harder than any blow I’ve ever suffered.
That was Sunday…
Author’s Note: Today marks five months since the day I was fired from my job as assistant editor at LGBTQ Nation, effective immediately. The website is owned and operated by Queerty, Inc.
Since then, I’ve applied for 350 positions, written hundreds of cover letters, and after all that I’ve had two interviews and one “get to know you but I don’t have a job for you” lunch. I’m collecting unemployment, paying the mortgage and utility bills with my children’s social security payments and pension payments from their mother’s death one year and ten months ago.
Last month, the only public…