Last night I went to the latest Cirque show with a trans youth group I attend.
(Circus Sidenote: the show was good, but I was a little disapointed. I only learned later that it was intentionally acrobatic- and clown-focused, which is awesome, but I feel a little spoiled working at a circus organization. Cirque’s performers were undeniably top-notch, but I sort of feel like the difference between a very good aerialist and an amazing aerialist is larger than the difference between a very good juggler and an amazing juggler (or magician or contortionist). I did, inevitably, see one thing – a crazy trapeze acrobatics act – that I’d love to try with a mechanized winch and a gooood safety harness.)
On the El ride back up north (the long El ride back up north; gods is the United Center public-transit-inaccessible) I ended up being the last person from the group on the train with two of the facilitators. As I’ve said before, I like them a lot, so was kind of interested to see how they behaved in a more informal setting, as by that point we were all too tired to really be in ‘groupleader/groupmember’ mentalities. Likewise, as I’m one of the older memebrs of the group so sometimes feel more alligned with the facilitators than the other group members anyway.
So we were sitting and chatting, and T started talking to V about how someone at the last station had come up to her and someone else and said to the other woman, “You look fine,” but then turned to T and said, “Man, why you dress that way?” T continued, talking about how shit like that really hurts her confidence and makes her doubt herself. Now I’ve been very jealous of how both T and V look and how they hold and carry themselves, so it was interesting to hear someone I look up to express such worry over what other people are thinking of themselves. I think in some ways it was good, in that it made her seem more approachable and understandable, but in another way it was disapointing to see anyway – especially someone I’m looking up to – brough down like that.