paris is burning
Yesterday, I finally got around to watching the iconic Paris is Burning! documentary for the first time. I had been putting it off for so long in the hopes that when the time comes, I’ll watch it and fully appreciate all the work that went into showcasing an aspect of humanity that would’ve otherwise been irrevocably lost. The timing couldn’t have been better as Trump is now mandating federal workers’ insurance not cover gender-affirming care in a move that has caught liberals by surprise, fascists by a “this is long overdue” feeling, and everyone else with more than two and half brain cells with a “we saw this coming” mood.
I couldn’t help but note the criminality and viciousness that goes into forcing a culture like ballroom to be created. LGBTQ+ people that lived those decades in New York City specifically dreamed of glamor, wealth, and prestige for themselves, items of status that were right before their eyes, yet so unattainable they might as well have been products of another universe altogether.
These individuals told the camera – and by extension us – of their hopes and dreams with such eloquence. They desired fame because that entailed others knowing they exist. They desired glamor because that entailed others possibly aspiring to be them. They desired wealth because that entailed resources to give back to the community that shaped them. When looking under the surface of these desires, one can’t help but note one theme: the desire to be accepted as normal.
While the legend Pepper Labeija may not have recommended gender reassignment surgery as the ticket to normal personhood for trans women (because women, whether trans or cis, were treated horribly anyway), the children chased after these body corrections anyway. It shows desperation to fit a norm defined by a society dead set on crushing you, and I can’t blame them for that.
My words fail to describe the admiration and awe I feel for the strength in these men and women. To survive, and do so boldly, in an environment as violent to anyone but a cisgender heterosexual man of European origin has to be the ultimate feat, the final boss if you will. What breaks my heart is that all of the suffering was avoidable, unnecessary, and cruel. And so is the suffering of the present.
I would like to end this with a piece of wisdom from drag queen Dorian Corey:
I always had hopes of being a big star. And then I [see]: As you get older, you aim a little lower. And I just say: “Well, you still might make an impression.” Everybody wants to leave something behind them, some impression, some mark upon the world. And then you think: “You left a mark on the world if you just get through it and a few people remember your name.” Then you left a mark. You don’t have to bend the whole world. I think it’s better to just enjoy it. Pay your dues and enjoy it. If you shoot an arrow and it goes real high: Hooray for you!