The Hatchet concludes its articles each year with the original word used to signify the end of a story.
While I have extensive experience with The Hatchet, my focus has primarily been on providing evidence that transgender people exist and matter in various ways. I want to shift gears and discuss the joys of being trans, as most of my previous articles have tackled the painful reality of transphobia that I face daily.
Being visibly queer is a personal choice influenced by one’s understanding of queer culture and identity, which raises some concerns for me. However, I can’t deny that many people pay attention to me when they realize I’m queer. After all, I have a shaved head, over 20 tattoos, and a girlfriend I frequently mention.
Some may find this queer pride too loud, too aggressive, or as pushing an agenda. However, I embrace my queerness as a way to navigate and find beauty in a world that often deems my existence invalid.
My gender expression involves intentionally drawing attention to myself, not just for visibility, but because my identity is constantly scrutinized, ignored, and misunderstood. It serves as a means of resisting and challenging all oppressive structures that contribute to the rigid construction of gender, such as white supremacy, misogyny, sexism, and toxic masculinity.
The way I present myself is a reflection of the stress, depression, and anxiety I’ve experienced, as well as the verbal and physical assaults I’ve endured. The constant critiques of my appearance and body are essentially attacks on my being. My body is a powerful testament to the resilience of the transgender community, and I take pride in how it showcases my strength.
I revel in the fact that I am neither strictly a man nor a woman, but everything in between and beyond. I pity those who are confined by rigid gender roles because my gender knows no bounds. The gender binary harms not only transgender individuals but anyone who challenges the traditional standards of masculinity and femininity. That’s why simply existing is an act of resistance.
People often tell me that I’m articulate, and well, I have to agree. How else can I convince others that I deserve to be respected and recognized for my identity? But sometimes, the words fail me when it comes to expressing myself. This silence also means that I can see worlds beyond language, which is why I often struggle to advocate for myself.
Existing outside the gender binary offers immense freedom, especially when granted the safety to do so. Ultimately, The Hatchet and its staff have provided me with the incredible opportunity to explore and embrace this freedom over the past three years. And there’s no denying that my privilege to work for a publication with a majority of white employees has played a role in this.
I arrived at GW as a timid individual unsure of themselves. However, as I wrote for The Hatchet, I developed a more assertive persona as a transgender man. Transgender people are resilient, not by choice, but because society demands it of us. I’m grateful for the chance to demand respect and advocate for my community.
And though there may not be many things I want to thank GW for, there are several individuals who deserve recognition:
Ethan Valliath: Ethan, I owe you kingdoms without end, including the one where I can freely express my thoughts. Your wit, perseverance, and genuine passion have forever transformed The Hatchet. I can confidently say that you are the finest opinion editor this publication has ever seen, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have worked alongside you. You are not only a fantastic friend and colleague but also someone who never fails to lighten the mood, whether by joking about being mistaken for a woman outside Whole Foods or supporting my advocacy for gender equality.
Paige, I am grateful for your unwavering support of my outlandish ideas and queer theory musings. I know I can always confide in you about anything. Your perspective is unique, and I’m excited to see where it leads you in the future. Please never lose your delightful and refreshing candor.
Jenna: I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as caring as you. Once, I mentioned that it bothers me when people approach me unexpectedly, and since then, you’ve always signaled me before greeting me. While it may seem small, it means a great deal to me, as does every other instance we walk home together. Thank you for your patience and unwavering support. Whatever path you choose next will undoubtedly impact lives, although I wish we could swap war stories about our respective colleges.
Thank you all for allowing my eccentricities to flourish. I may never admit it, but I genuinely appreciate your comments on my outfits. Knowing that even some transgender men appreciate my sense of fashion can be empowering on a gender-affirming level. Thank you for making every moment spent with you all incredibly joyful, as I don’t spend much time with straight men.
Andi and Madie, I eagerly anticipate seeing your contributions to The Hatchet’s opinion section next semester. Your ideas and enthusiasm have the potential to leave a lasting impression on GW’s campus. Know that Ethan and I are always within reach, and I’m confident our bond will endure beyond our time here.
Dr. Manuel Cuellar: GW Professor Dr. Manuel Cuellar has fundamentally changed the course of my life. In his Spanish classes, he managed to shift my entire perspective while also fostering some of my deepest self-realizations. He emphasizes how fortunate we are to have queer topics in our curriculum, especially in states where the LGBTQ+ community is excluded from educational discussions. Through him, I gained access to gender-neutral language in Spanish and the ability to use my pronouns in another language for the first time. Nothing will ever compare to the encouragement and support Professor Cuellar has provided me throughout my academic journey.
My family: You are the most incredible beings on this planet. When I visited home last month, I secretly caught my little sibling reading the book “Raising Kids Beyond The Binary” by Jamie Bruesehoff. I chuckled, but I also felt overwhelmingly loved. Not only do you love me unconditionally, but you also make an effort to understand and support me. I wish every family understood how special it is to have a transgender child because my transgender identity has only brought me closer to you. I don’t know what gender-neutral term my future children will come up with for you to call them grandparents, but I’m grateful they’ll call you theirs.
