This Being Transgender

This Being Transgender
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

Dear Autumn,
This being transgender reminds me of what you must face;
People who haven’t thought of you for ages
Suddenly find themselves thinking of you and lamenting your arrival,
Others find you a fascinating anomaly in an otherwise endless summer
Of sameness and dreamy afternoons;
Others force themselves to stop thinking of you
With hopes of postponing an imaginary, apocalyptic winter,
Still others think about you so much they stop talking to you
And pretend you no longer exist, they fear
Your blazing changes will rub off on them,
They think your very appearance signals a heresy
That will send summer reeling—
Which it does–but not in distress does summer
Go tumbling through the leaves and out of town, it rolls on
Joyous of your presence and relieved
To finally be able to breathe fully and see spring’s children
For who they really are. And the heresy? It is there–
It signals the living fully what love stands for–
And that means comfort zones expanded,
Walls removed, and doors opened into the reality
Of the here and now, 2015.

 

Dear Autumn,
I see your graceful letting go,
I see you casting gold with trembling fingers,
I see your swaying vulnerability against a stark blue sky,
And I know I let go far less gracefully,
I cling to what must be tossed away,
I flail about believing
There is nothing gold about me
To even bother sharing;
I begin believing those who can longer look at me
Or who dread how I will influence their children—
I know better though, I know they only fear
How I will influence them—how I will magically
Nudge them away from the summer
Of their inner, thinly-hidden discontent
And out into the blazing colors of enlightenment,
I know better, but I cling to brittle branches
Of self-loathing.

 

Dear Autumn,
So many people tell me they need time to be able to just see me,
Some still believe a death has occurred, and yet, here I stand in my autumnal truth.
You and I both know nothing dies when you arrive;
Summer cartwheels over the hills and warms
Another place happy to be free to think new thoughts,
The leaves you share feed the soil and fertilize the seeds of spring,
The harvest of apples feeds many with mulled sweetness,
And if they could only see you in my soul
And be awed at the revelation of color and the arrival
Of gold and my ability to finally stand in the fifth direction
Of my journey, with all of the certainty of wonder and hope
Of voyaging further into the sky, the streams, the purple mountains,
The heart of love, and the ground of being;
If they would only look in the mirror of their deepest fears—
And see love looking back at them,
And how the faces of spring infants and angels of flamenco
Gather around the edges of their vision, then maybe they would get it—
Their reflection looks like us and them—it looks like every single tree
To ever wave in the wind and sleep bathed in moonlight,
And just rest easy knowing we are not signaling the end
Of all that is warm and held sacred,
We are heralding the beginning of freedom,
We are taking the leaves of sacredness
And casting them where they truly belong–
Into an infinite sky of infinite variety.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All donations go towards my transition and to keeping the Wonder Child Blog Up and Running.  Thank you <3



Say Her Name

Say Her Name
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

 

Say Her Name
Tamara Dominguez
Say Her Name
Elisha Walker
Say Her Name
Kandis Capri
Say Her Name
Amber MonRoe
Say Her Name
Shade Schuler
Say Her Name
K.C. Haggard
Say Her Name
India Clarke
Say Her Name
Ashton O’Hara
Say Her Name
Mercedes Williamson
Say Her Name
London Kiki Chanel
Say Her Name
Mya Shawatza Hall
Say Her Name
Keyshia Blige
Say Her Name
Kristina Gomez Reinwald
Say Her Name
Bri Golec
Say Her Name
Penny Proud
Say Her Name
Taja Gabrielle de Jesus
Say Her Name
Yazmin Vash Payne
Say Her Name
Ty “Nunee” Underwood
Say Her Name
Lamia Beard
Say Her Name
Papi Edwards
Say Her Name
Kiesha Jenkins
Say Her Name
Say Her Name
Say Her Name.

 

 

Spirit shepherd
Welcome Her home,
Goddess of trees
And of mountains,
Shelter Her home,
Shepherdess of lions and deer
Lift Her on your back
Of grace and power
And carry Her home,
Exalt Her by raining down
Awakening to the masses,
To Her being human,
To Her being transgender,
To Her just being a person
Who should have been able
To be what She needed
And done what She wanted
Without fear of harm;
Goddess of light and of darkness
Hold Her family like
The earth holds seeds in winter;
Shepherdess of Moonlight
And dragonflies, find the way
For all to see: this hatred
Must stop, this ignorance
Must stop, this violence
Must stop, this acting out
Twisted insecurities
Must stop—
And enlightenment
Needs to grow–opening hearts
Need to grow.
Brothers and sisters
Join me
And Say Her name,
Pray Her name,
Shout and sing and chant
Her name, cherish Her name,
Treasure Her name,
Speak Her name as if it was your own,
Whisper Her name to the trees,
Weep Her name to the spaces
She once filled,
Plant Her name
In the collective consciousness of the world
And allow it to grow
Into fields of sunflowers,
Write Her name
On the pages of every heart,
Sculpt Her name
With the tender hands of
Mercy and compassion,
Breathe Her name
Into the nostrils
Of every man—enliven them
With self-understanding
And the ability to see past
Their own ill-conceived
And irrational fears,
Baptize Her name
With justice and laws
That makes sense
And that work—

 
Brothers and sisters
Rise up, take one another
By the hand and lift up Her name
In your voices of
Enough
Is Enough,
And Say Her Holy Name
Tamara Dominguez
Elisha Walker
Kandis Capri
Amber MonRoe
Shade Schuler
K.C. Haggard
India Clarke
Ashton O’Hara
Mercedes Williamson
London Kiki Chanel
Mya Shawatza Hall
Keyshia Blige
Kristina Gomez Reinwald
Bri Golec
Penny Proud
Taja Gabrielle de Jesus
Yazmin Vash Payne
Ty “Nunee” Underwood
Lamia Beard
Papi Edwards
Kiesha Jenkins

 

 

 


 

 

 


A Sunflower Asked Me to Write This Poem

A Sunflower Asked Me to Write This Poem
By Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

sunflower seed photo

 

 

Sun-kissed,
Sky-shawled,
Sunflowers
Look very different
From the way
They start out–
Little seeds tucked in hypnotic
Spirals, and yet sunflowers
Do not need to prove they exist,
They simply open
Their palms to the light
And say: “Here I am,”
And everyone sees them
And everyone understands
Seed and blossom are not
Two opposite ends
Of a spectrum,
Neither seed nor flower choose
To be what they are,
They simply exist,
And everyone smiles
And says: “Beautiful.”

 

 

You see
The other morning
I stopped to marvel
At a sunflower,
And as I stood admiring
The strength to stand
So tall, the dignity
To shine so much light
From such a round, lantern face
I heard it speak:
“I know you see me,
I know you see beauty
When you see me–
Go ahead embrace me.”
And so I did.
We swayed a moment
Slow dancing to the music
Of the early morning sun,
And as we did I heard it speak again:
“I have moved on
From husk and shell,
I have moved on
From living hiding
In the blind ground.
I am here now,
And you see me,
But did you know
There are those
Who do not believe
I exist? They ask me
To prove I belong,
They ask me to justify
My being a sunflower
Because they only knew me
As a seed.
I know you understand,
I know you live as one of us.
Help them to see.”
And so I promised
The sunflower
I would write this poem.
Sunflower seeds
May or may not know
They are sunflowers
Waiting in the wings
To bloom, in the same way
A sunflower can look back
And see it once was a seed.
For all we know sunflower seeds
Might think they are, and will never
Be, something other
Than how they presently present, and if pressed
With questions might ask one of their own:
What is a sunflower?

 

 

When is their moment
Of awakening, when they realize
They have a deep, undeniable,
Longing for light?
Is it when they finally crack
Under the pressure of trying
To remain as they have always
Appeared yet for some
Unfathomable reason know
They are something other?
Is it when their seams burst
Unable to withstand the pull
Of warmth and daylight?
Do you think it is possible
They are frightened
When they finally lose themselves
And understand they really are
Someone they never knew they were?
Do you think it is hard for them
To dig through darkness,
To push past rocks, to believe
Another life awaits, where light
Will caress their hands and face?
Or do you think they believe
That there is no possible way
A flower lives inside them?
That they are still themselves
As they weave through the dark earth?

 
The sunflower asked me
To write this poem to reassure you:
The essence of the seed is shadowed
In their faces and more importantly, it remains is visible
In their spirits, in the beauty
They express to the world.

 
The next time you see a sunflower
Embrace it gently through your misgivings,
Know nothing is ever lost—
The shape changes, the beauty remains
Only now it is held in the arms
Of the open, unconditional sky.

 

 

sunflowers tall

 


 

 

 

 





All donations go to keeping the Wonder Child Blog afloat and towards my transition.  Thank you for your support.  Jennifer

Questions for You

Questions For You
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro

 

 

My wise friend, Mika and I were talking recently and she observed that if we can allow negative actions, words, and energy from some negative people to drain us, then the implication is that we can allow positive actions, words, and energy of positive people to fill us. I am working on ways to do this, for while I have received TONS and TONS of loving, kind, encouraging, compassionate, and just plain AMAZING support as I have come out as trans, there have been a few people who have said some very cruel things, mean things, reprehensible things, and acted in heartbreaking ways towards me. And my silly mind starts to focus on those few instead of the many, many, MANY who support me. And then I begin to fade, nudge closer to a depression that seems suddenly so far away, and I become afraid, feel guilty, begin to believe I am doing something wrong, when in fact I am not DOING anything. I did not choose to be trans. I am not BECOMING a woman. I AM a woman who is finally conscious of this beautiful and affirming truth and am simply moving closer and closer to fully living and presenting as the person I am. I was born the right gender, wrong body parts. And so my loving supporters, what things do you do to help increase the positive, to draw that loving energy in? This is without a doubt the most intense time of my life—and the most wonder-filled, and beautiful, and yet, it is hard to know there are people who a few days ago were my friends that now literally hate me, and that’s hard. Really hard. And thank Goddess there is YOU. If you’re reading this I believe you’re one of the ones who love my heart. Who looks past what I may wear or what I may call myself, who doesn’t worry about losing anything, but instead is happy they are gaining the best me ever. What suggestions do you have for increasing the positive, for helping a negative-focuser like me to focus on the good–the good that is everywhere. Truly the outpouring of love I am receiving is incredible, and I feel guilty the haters affect me so much, like I am insulting you. I do not mean to, my dear friends. This is all new to me—this complete acceptance of who I am, and I am so happy, really, giddy-magically happy, and need and want your continued support, but I am working with a mind that is trained in negativity and self-hatred. I would be honored to hear how you gather in the positive and release the negative, how you focus on the positive and ignore the negative. You totally rock my friends. I love you. Yours with grace and love, Jennifer

 

 

 


 

 

 

 


Donations go to a fund for my transition.  Thank you for supporting me and this journey.  <3