TRANScestors: Navigating LGBTQ+ Aging, Illness, and End of Life Decisions Volume II: Generations of Change

By Margot Wilson

Generations of Change is the second volume in the TRANScestors series. These stories are, by turn, heartfelt, revealing, inspiring, sad, joyful, humorous, irreverent, and incredibly varied. And yet, strong, common themes of courage, persistence, honesty, resilience, and authenticity emerge clearly through the detailed recounting of the individual lives lived. Each author details those specific circumstances that have led them to the places and situations in which they find themselves today. On the whole, these are places of comfort, confidence, revelation, and affirmation. The wide range of attitudes, expressions, and worldviews held by the LGBTQ+ elders presented here challenge us all to carefully consider and adjust our perspectives on our own aging processes and, ultimately, on finding our own places in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TransGender Publishing (imprint of Castle Carrington Publishing)
• Release date: Dec 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781990096082

Book preview

The older you get, the better you get,

unless you’re a banana.

Betty White

The initial volume of TRANScestors: Navigating Aging, Illness and End-of-Life Decisions, Generations of Hope was published on September 16, 2020,¹ with 22 transgender and non-binary elders contributing chapters about their end of life experiences and their concerns about growing older. At the time this first volume was published, we had already accumulated enough additional stories and articles written by other trans elders to quickly bring out a second volume in our ongoing series of books about transgender and non-binary elders.

We have been delighted by the overwhelmingly positive responses to our first volume and expect that this, our second volume, will be equally appreciated. We are currently working on our third volume, TRANScestors, Generations of Pride, planned for release in late March 2021. We recommend that you consider acquiring the whole series, including Glimmerings: Transgender Elders Tell Their Stories, another book by and about transgender elders, edited by Margot Wilson and Aaron Devor, and published in August 2019 by Transgender Publishing.²

During the course of preparation for Volume II of TRANScestors, our nations are still dealing with the devastation wrought by the COVID-19 pandemic. As of today, in a single day, 181,801 new COVID-19 cases were reported in the USA. Total deaths from COVID-19 in the USA alone are now 243,580. Worldwide, known deaths now total more than 1.3 million people.

Along with so many lives lost from the COVID-19 pandemic, a few folks who have been a part of my own life experience bear special mention: my long-time friend, Karrie Wedlund, whose story is featured in this volume, died unexpectedly of natural causes on New Year’s Day 2020. We met for the last time in early October 2019 for three days, during which time Karrie, her partner, Linda, her Social Worker, Erica, and I had the opportunity to share much of what I’ve written about Karrie in her chapter in this book. I remain in touch via telephone and e-mail with Karrie’s partner, Linda Graves, with whom I last spoke on the phone yesterday.

One of my favorite singers, Kenny Rogers, died at age 81 on March 21, 2020 also of natural causes, including bladder cancer. My partner and I were fortunate enough to see him perform three different times in the past 5 years. John Robert Lewis, called by many the conscience of congress, died at age 80 on July 17, 2020 from pancreatic cancer. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, our beloved Supreme Court Justice, died at the age of 87 on September 18, 2020 from metastatic pancreatic cancer. On November 8, 2020, the host of my favorite television game show, Jeopardy, Alex Trebec, died of pancreatic cancer at the age of 80. Cancer remains the number 2 leading cause of death in the United States today.

Had my deceased wife, Carolyn Miranda-Patton survived, we would have been married for 32 years as of November 12, 2020. Carol died peacefully in her sleep at our home at age 68 from complications of diabetes, kidney failure, and congestive heart failure on March 10, 2014, following 10+ years of kidney dialysis treatment.

My beloved little shih-tzu/Yorkie mix, Butterscotch (Ms. B.), died in my arms of congestive heart failure on July 3, 2020. Had we euthanized her, as planned for later that day, I would not have been able to hold her while she took her last breath, due to veterinary hospital restrictions imposed by COVID-19. Had my friend, Karrie, died after March 15 of this year, her partner, Linda, and her friends would not have been able to visit her or be by her side at her death, due to COVID-19 nursing home restrictions. Many of my elder trans friends have confided their fears of dying alone.

Along with the COVID-19 pandemic, we are still reeling from racism, sexism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and other social challenges. Worldwide, we remain impacted by climate change, loss of animal species, loss of habitat, as well as fresh water and food shortages. Intersectional justice organizations are on the rise, and Black Lives Matter and the Me Too movements are growing in numbers. Unfortunately, right wing religious groups, fascists, neo-Nazis, the gun lobby, and other old and new anti-human rights groups—all spewing hatred toward LGBTQ+ folks—are also burgeoning, cheered on by Donald Trump, even as this is being written. (Think the so-called Proud Boys.) Just this weekend, there were marches across the US and in our capital of people who rabidly support Donald Trump and his dangerous ideology. The same red southern states that colluded to form the Confederacy in the Civil War 180 years ago are exactly the same states that are adamantly pro-Trump and remain the most vehemently anti-LGBTQ+ today.

Recently, our community lost Monica Roberts, a very highly respected trans woman of color. She died suddenly of natural causes at age 58 on October 5, 2020. She founded TransGriot in 2006, breaking new ground for the transgender community.³ In her award-winning blog, Ms. Roberts was the first to provide nationwide coverage of homicides against trans women of color. She was also the co-founder of the National Transgender Advocacy Coalition, receiving the Susan J. Hyde Award for Longevity in the Movement at Creating Change in January 2020.

November is Transgender Awareness Month, and this week is Transgender Awareness Week. The month of November celebrates and raises awareness of the transgender community through education and advocacy. Since being established in 1999 by Gwendolyn Ann Smith, every year, on November 20th, we celebrate the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance, holding vigils and other events to honor those transgender people who have lost their lives to acts of anti-transgender violence. As of October 14, 2020, we have lost at least 36 transgender people in the USA to homicide and untold additional numbers to suicide this year.⁴ Estimates of murders of 350 transgender people around the world this year are probably not accurate, since not all such murders are reported. The vast majority of those murdered are trans women of color. The suicide attempt rate for all trans people is estimated at about 40% in some studies.⁵

As I write this, we are extremely conflicted about the politics of our nation and have been embroiled in a hotly contested election to choose a new president and vice president. Although Democrats, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, have won both the popular vote and the electoral vote, our incumbent Republican president, Donald Trump, still refuses to concede. Our bigoted current president and his administration, including Mitch McConnell and our ultra-right wing religious conservative vice president, Mike Pence, have pushed an agenda of hate, especially toward LGBTQ+ Americans and have taken away many of our hard-won human rights since 2017.

We do have several openly gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender political candidates currently winning in elections across the country this year, so there are signs of hope. For the first time in history, we had an openly gay male candidate running for presidential nomination in our Democratic Party primary, Pete Buttigieg. Our new vice president, Kamala Harris, is the first woman, and also the first woman of color, to be elected to this position. Three transgender women were elected to state legislatures: Brianna Titone in Colorado, Stephanie Byers in Kansas, and Taylor Small in Vermont. One trans woman, Sarah McBride, was elected to the state senate in Delaware. We also have many more women and BIPOC people winning elections this year, another sign of hope that our country can recover eventually from the harm caused by the Trump-Pence administration.

Along with the negative changes caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, one positive change for me has been the opportunity to work at home since March 17, 2020, saving untold commuting time and sums of money from car expenses and gasoline. My salary has not budged in the past three years but is still borderline reasonable. I have been semi-retired for the past 5 years, so my available time outside of work is spent mostly writing and editing and adding to my knowledge by immersing myself for hours on end, reading non-fiction books and journals, and attending on-line classes, seminars, and conferences. I am like a kid in a candy shop with the seemingly endless opportunities for lifelong learning.

Although my focus remains on issues affecting LGBTQ+ folks, my quest for knowledge encompasses many other subject areas. One of the most fascinating on-line seminars I attended this month was part of an animal law conference. The session was entitled Persons as Yet Unknown: Animals, Chimeras, Artificial Intelligence, and Beyond. The discussion was centered on bioethics and spanned such diverse ethical/moral considerations as the dignity and rights of cyborgs and of sex robots, to the rights of animals and the threat of speciesism, to the use of organs on a chip in medical research. In another on-line session about Refugee Law, panel members discussed the concept of The Philosophy of the Other and how this is used to deconstruct and to disenfranchise those who are perceived as other. Both sessions contained concepts explaining some of the bases of discrimination toward LGBTQ+ individuals and also suggestions about possible eventual solutions to these issues.

Today, by mail, I received a Cloud Dancers Foundation⁶ award and monetary grant to fulfil my Wish for support in continuing to write and co-edit this series of books about trans elders. I am privileged to be the foundation’s first Wish recipient. Along with a cashier’s check and award certificate was a beautiful letter from Robina Asti, the 99-year-old trans woman founder of The Cloud Dancers Foundation. The award letter read in part:

Thank you for being YOU—it was such a wonderful moment to meet you and to hear of your passion to write a collection of stories based on your interviews within the LGBTQ+ community. Your wonderful project is exactly what symbolizes the spirit of The Cloud Dancers Foundation where we want to grant Wishes to those individuals who need to be Seen, Heard, and Read about and to know we are here to make the invisible feel visible again!

Despite the tone of my descriptions of loss above, I remain heartened by the themes of resilience, courage, and triumph, and of the valuable contributions our authors describe in their stories.

KUDOS: A shout-out of boundless thanks and respect for my friend and co-editor/publisher, Margot Wilson Ph.D. Without her enthusiastic support and professional help, this book series about transgender, non-binary, and Two-Spirit elders would have never been attempted or accomplished.

Most of all, I am grateful and fortunate to have a loving, kind, understanding, and (mostly) patient life partner by my side, to share my golden years. I bask daily in the knowledge that she loves me unconditionally. What a trooper!

Jude Patton

November 15, 2020

Jude and I have known each other since 2014 when we met at the Moving Trans History Forward conference at the University of Victoria. At that time, I approached Jude about collaborating to write his life story.⁷ Since then, we have found a significant number of common interests, including our work together on this series of elder stories. When we first began discussing this project, I had no idea that Jude would be so extraordinarily successful in recruiting such a wide range of trans elders to contribute to TRANScestors.

Their stories are, by turn, heartfelt, revealing, inspiring, sad, joyful, humorous, irreverent, and incredibly varied. And yet, strong, common themes of courage, persistence, honesty, resilience, and authenticity emerge clearly through the detailed recounting of the individual lives lived. Each author details those specific circumstances that have led them to the places and situations in which they find themselves today. On the whole, these are places of comfort, confidence, revelation, and affirmation. The wide range of attitudes, expressions, and worldviews held by the LGBTQ+ elders presented here challenge us all to carefully consider and adjust our perspectives on our own aging processes and, ultimately, on finding our own places in the world.

As Jude has indicated, during the time this volume (and the previous one) was in production, a number of pivotal events have occurred in the US and across the world. These include (but are not limited to) the US presidential election, Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements, the deaths of a number of influential leaders and law makers, continuing threats to the legal rights, well-being, and safety of LGBTQ+ people everywhere, and a worldwide pandemic the likes of which may never have been seen perhaps ever before.

In the early stages of recruiting participants, Jude provided a questionnaire/interview guide (see Appendix II). Later, he encouraged contributors who were interested in commenting on some of these recent events to do so. Not everyone took Jude up on this invitation, but many did. As you will discover, some authors followed the guide closely, while others embraced Jude’s directive to be original and innovative, the result being a comprehensive collection of stories that cover the gamut of the trans aging experience, from wellness, resilience, and vigour, to health crises, illness, loneliness, bereavement, and loss.

Throughout the editing process, Jude and I kept the necessity to restrain our own views and facilitate the voices of the individual contributors as our mandate. I hope that we have been successful in that intent, that our contributors’ voices come through clearly and unambiguously as they detail their life journeys in their own words. Accordingly, preserving the idiom, word choices, and subtleties of expression used by the individuals that you meet here has been our primary goal. It also bears remarking that Jude has worked conscientiously to recruit contributors who are people of colour and citizens of countries outside of the US.

Having said that, it behooves us to note that the language used throughout this volume—and to describe trans lived experience more generally—is subtle, nuanced, and constantly changing. Throughout, we have used the terms LGBTQ+, trans, transgender, non-binary, and Two-Spirit as maximally inclusive, intended to encompass all gender identities other than cisgender. Nevertheless, our recent discussions have included in-depth consideration of what it means to be represented by one (or more) of the letters in LGBTQ. Furthermore, what does it mean to be represented by the plus sign in LGBTQ+. No simple, or straightforward, interpretations exist for the words (or acronyms) we use to define, declare, or describe ourselves. And, although Jude and I cannot conclusively unravel these complex, and often controversial, issues in the abbreviated space we have here, it is important to note that the language used to discuss trans issues has evolved rapidly over time and will continue to do so. Terms that were acceptable previously may be (and likely will be) less so at another point in the future. Indeed, by the time this volume is published, some of the terms we have used may have fallen into disfavour, while others will have come into precedence.

Indeed, the title of this series, TRANScestors, exemplifies this type of linguistic shift. We quickly changed our original working title of Life Trips following a conference where Jude was first introduced to the term transcestor. Coined in 2009 by Lewis Reay in a footnote in Towards a Transgender Theology: Que(e)rying the Eunuchs.⁸ Reay claims:

I coin this term transcestor as the elision of trans and ancestor to signify those transgender characters and people who provide a history and prove that we have always been here. It was first coined for me by a young transman [sadly unnamed] to whom I am indebted.

Such a perfect representation of our community of authors, Jude and I immediately agreed to change the title of the series just prior to the publication of Volume I.⁹

Thus, the terms used throughout this volume are those chosen by the individual contributors and may include terms that others would not prefer to use. Readers who are unfamiliar with any of these terms are encouraged to google them, bearing in mind that as language evolves, terms come into and go out of favour. A few reliable resources include: the National Center for Transgender Equality (NCTE), the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), Egale Canada Human Rights Trust, PFLAG, Canada, the GLAAD Media Reference Guide, and the QMUNITY Queer Terminology Guide.¹⁰

Margot Wilson

December 2, 2020

Jamie F. Amos

Jamie is retired and living with his partner, Deb, in south central Oregon. He prefers outdoor activities, doesn’t watch television or movies and stays in touch with the world with a smartphone. His time is spent on various creative projects.

I’m in Tranny Tales by Marsea Marcus and Shannon Weckman, as well as in Transfigurations by Jana Marcus. The Elkhart Truth (Elkhart, Indiana) newspaper did an article on me in the early days of my change, in 1974. NPR Santa Cruz, California aired an interview of me, produced by Joan Shuman in 1998. I have been a member of/attended transgender groups in Los Angeles and Santa Cruz, California, South Bend, Indiana, and Ferndale, Michigan. I also participate in some social media online groups for trans men.

No Labels, No Ego

Jamie F. Amos

I was born in northern Indiana in 1955. I am half Lithuanian. When I was three years old, I knew I wasn’t a girl. It wasn’t until my high school years that I was allowed to wear more masculine attire to help me express my masculinity. I was attracted to females since third grade, but knew I wasn’t a gay female; it was my body that didn’t fit me right, not my orientation. I was 18 when I went to my family doctor to start taking male hormones. I was already working anonymously as a male in a neighboring town, so my change went unnoticed by others. Ten years after starting testosterone, I had chest surgery by Alfred Koonin MD in Torrance, California. Jude Patton filmed the procedure, which was cool as we viewed it later with other trans guys at one of the FTM meetings that Jude used to hold at his home in Santa Ana, California in the late 1970s and early to mid-1980s.

Figure 2: Jamie

My parents were divorced when I was ten months old. My mom raised my two older brothers and me on her own. I have had girlfriends since I was 15 and, after beginning testosterone, I had a relationship with a man, but that was only out of curiosity, a raging libido, and convenience. After him, between girlfriends, I sometimes got together with a man, but never with the intent of having one as a long-term partner.

I completed some college after high school. In the early ’80s, I volunteered for the American Red Cross blood drives, assisting the nurses. I was an artist and a musician, supporting these ambitions with work in computer operations and quality assurance in the manufacturing field. I played in a three-piece trans band, The Froot Loops, performing at Santa Cruz (and San Francisco), California Gay Pride events for several years. We played songs that celebrated being trans. Also, in Santa Cruz, I was on the Triangle Speakers panels, going to schools to tell my story, in hopes of reaching trans kids who felt alone and couldn’t imagine a happy adulthood.

Eventually, I realized that I did art and music because I got praise for them when growing up. Then, I created an identity around them. I liked having labels at the time: Jamie, the artist or Jamie, the musician. With day jobs, I sought the title, as if to impress someone. For fifty years, I focused on what I thought others would think of me. I built an identity. When I realized this, I saw that this was a tremendous waste of my energy. Then, my motives for doing things began to change.

Now, I am retired and live comfortably in a rented house in a rural area in eastern Oregon. I have let go of the labels. I garden and do some landscaping at our rural rental. I have a peaceful life with Deb, my partner of six years, without stress or drama, and feel quite fortunate that my life has gone so well. I do art as the need arises, but I don’t care to spend much time with it. I have also started playing bass again, but in a casual manner, and have a humble approach to it now. No ego. I am once again teachable and enjoy learning new music and techniques on my instrument.

Figure 3: Jamie

I have good one-on-one interactions with budding trans guys on social media. Currently, I live in a conservative area and haven’t revealed my history to anyone here and probably will not. I transitioned on my own, with little support, because there were few books or articles to read on the subject. This was pre-internet. I find it interesting that anything can be researched online now. Yet, what I’m seeing on social media leads me to believe that some people don’t like to read this wealth of easily available information. I don’t think it was any harder for me to successfully transition than someone nowadays who has all this information at their fingertips.

Figure 4: Jamie

I worked on my personal growth for decades, after becoming an alcoholic in my 20’s. I went through rehab, a dozen therapists, and thousands of 12-step meetings. I was engaged to a psychotherapist for 16 years, which also taught me a lot about why I, and other people, act the way we do. This has all been excellent for my growth and has allowed me to help others who suffer as I did.

I have been to many places in the states, had several trips to other countries for vacations, and have met a wide variety of people. I have done whatever I set out to accomplish. I don’t think of a bucket list, but I know new opportunities will arise. They always have. Interactions with people, paying attention to the world around me, and learning unexpected things have all exceeded my wildest daydreams. When I was a child, all I wanted to do was go outside and play. My retirement has been wonderful. I can stay outside as long as I want! My body is aging, but just little things have been affected so far. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for my ability to stay active.

When I was 60, I had a gynecological issue that put me in the emergency room in my small hometown. The staff seemed genuinely kind to me, as well as professional. Unlike many trans people, I don’t have a concern about aging as trans. Few people in my life have had problems with my change, so I imagine this is how things will continue. I find that most people judge me by how I treat them, not what has happened in my past. I also feel that my comfort in my own body is apparent by how relaxed I appear. This comfort comes across as confidence. I feel this confidence convinces others more than any of my words could.

Many years ago, I joined a family-oriented nudist lodge for a year and went there frequently. There were some people who stared at my body, but those were few, compared to the people who made it clear that I was accepted there. I feel that one’s attitude about one’s self makes a big difference in how we are treated. The owner of the lodge said she was glad that her adolescent girls there had seen me around. She said she wanted them to see how people really were. I feel a sense of responsibility in such situations. I may be the only trans person that someone may ever meet. How will I come across to them? I am doing myself and the trans community the most service when I am being true to myself, comfortable in my situation. We never know who looks up to us or who we might influence.

Figure 5: Jamie

I was raised Christian, but it didn’t make sense to me. There is a lot of wisdom in the various Holy books in most religions, but I am atheist and focus on this life I have right now. I appreciate Buddhism and its focus on mindfulness and connectivity with everything on Earth.

I don’t care what happens to my body when I die. I feel that death means loss of consciousness. I don’t own stuff that needs to be handled. I don’t need a service or an obituary. Each person I have known will have their own impression of me, based on my relationship with them. No final words will make a difference. There isn’t anything I need to hide or anything I need to announce.

Holy Old Man Bull, aka Marcus Arana

Marcus Arana is a retired Gender Identity Discrimination Investigator and Policy Analyst for the City and County of San Francisco, LGBT Speakers Bureau Coordinator Emeritus for Community United Against Violence, and an expert witness on gender identity policies for law enforcement. Holy Old Man Bull is a bisexual, transgender, Two Spirit elder who spends his months of shelter in place puttering in his veggie garden, and spending quality time with his beloved partner, Nancy, and yellow Lab, Frankie. Born in the Territory of Alaska and raised in California, Marcus lives in Sonoma County. He is Ohlone, Blackfeet, Mexican, Irish, and Scottish.

Elder Journey—Life Is About the Love in Our Lives

Holy Old Man Bull

(aka Marcus Arana)

On illness

I have survived many challenges to staying alive. And those challenges shape my perspective on life, miracles, illness, disability, and death. In December 2001, I had my first brush with death by developing an infection at my hormone injection site.

I had gone outside my clean zone while injecting into my thigh. Rather than suffer through a second injection, I thought, What harm can there be? I learned that harm can be a staph germ driven deep into thigh muscle, and how the leg pain of a festering infection can be misdiagnosed by the best doctors in San Francisco as inoperable sciatica. That was in October.

Fast forward past doctor visits and specialist visits at the ER. In fact, after nine long hours of languishing on a gurney, they discharged me from that ER based only on a phone call with their Chief of Orthopedics. She had written off my leg pain in our office visit two weeks before as sciatica associated with my lumbar disc disease. They did not inspect my leg at all. Send him home, was all I was told. I pleaded for an ultrasound on my leg, but they refused, citing the Chief’s opinion. That was my first big dose of what harm transphobia can do to a patient when suddenly we become an object, and one of derision. I was being written off. My second big dose was how I was treated once I bounced back and they had to deal with me.

Figure 6: 1969 age 12

As I lay in bed at home, living alone, unable to work or eat, and standing in hot showers trying to distract from the great pain in my thigh, an inner voice kept telling me, Go back to the ER! You are dying! I returned to the same best-in-the-nation kind of ER in San Francisco with a fever of 104.5 Fahrenheit, just one week after my first visit. No more writing me off—I had returned to their hospital on the verge of death, far sicker than I even knew. They did an immediate ultrasound and found a 500-cc infection in my left thigh that required immediate surgery to drain the infection and assess the damage. Because of my cervical spine disease, they decided to intubate me while I was awake, to minimize the respiratory arrest that had occurred six months previously with my hysterectomy. I may have been sedated or I may have passed out, I don’t recall.

However, coming to in a fevered stupor, I recall becoming very aware of the shouting and laughter around me at the same time as the jabbing pain of a medicine-soaked swab being inserted into my sinuses to introduce numbing medicine. Oh my god, that’s seven! Let’s go for eight! Come on eight, yeah! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" I had both nostrils packed with long handled dripping swabs numbing my throat and sinuses and choking me out like water boarding, and these guys were treating my body like some drinking game or dart board. Through my haze, I was acutely aware of how I was being mistreated. They removed the swabs and with one motion inserted the tube into my trachea, cutting off my air supply without warning. No one told me to take a deep breath. Nobody warned me of what was coming. They choked me out again, or so it felt.

Figure 7: 1992 age 35

Then, inexplicably, they walked away without hooking up the air. I pounded the