How I Could Have Become One Of The Remembered

Today is Transgender Day of Remembrance. All over the world, people will read the names of trans people who have been murdered during the previous year.  Such observances began on this date in 1999, one year after trans woman Rita Hester was found barely alive in her apartment.  She had been stabbed 20 times and died upon arrival at the hospital.

As brutal as her murder was,  it wasn't unusual for trans or non-binary people.  It seems that haters have a particular penchant for spewing their bile on those of us who don't, in one way or another, conform to the norms of whichever sex we were assigned at birth.  And living as the people we are seems to bring out the lawlessness of too many law enforcement officials.

I could have been one of their victims--and, possibly, one of the names read at the commemorations.  One hot day early in my gender-affirmation process, I was riding my Dahon Vitesse home work.  I didn't like the bike much but its flat-black finish garnered a lot of compliments.  One of them came through the window of a van whose rear windows were blacked out.  "Nice bike," the passenger commented.  I nodded in thanks.

The driver slowed that van down.  I rode past and thought nothing of it until it pulled up alongside me again and the same passenger yelled, "Nice legs, honey."  I was wearing a skirt that day and my legs are often complimented, or at least noticed.  So I thought nothing of it until the guy repeated himself, louder, "Nice legs!"  I paid no mind.  Then the guy bellowed, "Stop!"

Of course, I didn't.  But, as it turned out, it was a situation of "damned if I do, damned if I don't."  Again, the van slowed down, let me pull ahead, then caught up to me.  The passenger side flung open.  "When we say STOP, you STOP!"

"Why?"

"We're cops!"

"Show me your badges."

"Shut up!," the driver yelled.  "Shut up and do what we tell you!"

"But if you're a cop, you have to have reason to stop me."

"What were you doing in the projects?"

"First of all, I wasn't there.  I wasn't anywhere near there." That was true which, I think, pissed off those cops even more. "Just shut up and do what we tell you."

At that moment, I was picturing myself in the back of that van and ending up in the river that night.  So, when the passenger demanded to see my ID, I opened my bag. Fortunately for me, the ID I carried had an old address:  I had moved recently and was waiting for my updated state ID card.  

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Where's that?"

"The address on the card"--which was a few blocks away.

"OK," hissed the driver. "Just remember--when a cop tells you to do something, you do it," the passenger bellowed.

"You can go now," said the driver.

As it was early in my gender affirmation process, I couldn't help but to think those cops--if they were indeed cops--were "curious" about me.  Or perhaps they were looking for a victim "nobody will miss." 

That incident went down not long after I had gone through a process of wondering whether my cycling would survive my gender affirmation process.  I had made up my mind to continue riding, but I have to admit that I wondered about my decision.

Fortunately, there are more transgender or gender non-conforming cyclists than there were back then, in 2005.  Or, at least, more of us are "out."  I've met a few and have made contact with others, including Molly Cameron and the wonderful Coline in Scotland.  And, of course, there is another Scot:   the incomparable Philippa York, nee Robert Millar, the first anglophone rider to win the polka dot jersey (for the best climber) in the Tour de France.

While cycling has become more inclusive--when I first started became a dedicated rider, nearly half a century ago, almost everyone who rode more than a few kilometers was male--we still need to work toward greater inclusion and safety, of, for and in our own selves.  That is our real journey, however and wherever we ride.

Call Me Paranoid, But....

You get pulled over, whether you're cycling or driving, even though you're within the speed limit and aren't violating any other laws.  Or a sales clerk follows you around a department store when you don't have any of the store's merchandise on you.  Or you don't get a promotion or raise given to someone who is, or seems, no better or worse an employee than you.  Or, worse, you're summoned into the HR office at your workplace to defend yourself against questionable or simply false allegations.

After such experiences, you might wonder, "Why me?"  If you are a member of a group of people who lives under suspicion--say, you are a young black male or someone who is, or merely "looks", Muslim or Middle Eastern--or merely someone who looks like you're "not from around here", you can't help but to think that your appearance or identity might have something to do with it.  And, in the workplace situations I've described, you can't help but to believe--too often, with justification (Trust me, I've been in such situations!) that someone in your organization "has it in for you" just because of who you are.

It's easy to feel the things I've described in the previous paragraph if you are cycling, particularly in some place where there aren't many adult cyclists or where people are, for whatever reasons, hostile to cyclists.  Or, worse, if you encounter some traffic cop on a motorcycle who has nothing better to do and, being on a bike, you are an easier target in his quest to make his ticket quota for that month.

Lately, other cyclists and I have felt a similar kind of unease--some might call it paranoia.  Within the past week or so, a number of localities have passed, or merely discussed, ordinances that have no other purpose than to harass, or simply discourage, cyclists.  And it's hard not to wonder whether the inauguration of Trump has something to do with it:  Could velophobic legislators and law enforcement officials feel empowered by the Bike Hater-in-Chief in much the same way xenophobes and bigots have felt emboldened to carry out acts of hate?

I want to thank dear reader Coline--who lives in Scotland, no less!--for pointing out two of the latest pieces of legislative lunacy.

The first comes from the state of Montana, where there is a draft bill that, if passed, would ban cyclists from riding on two-lane country roads that lack shoulders. Now, I have never been to Montana, but the article Coline sent me corroborates what I've heard from people who've been to The Treasure State:  most of the state's roads--and, basically, all of the roads outside of the towns (aside from the Interstates)--fit that description.  What that means, of course, is that cycling would be off-limits in much of the state.

What sort of message does that send to some fourteen- or fifteen-year-old in a state that is already automobile-centric?  If that kid can't get from one town or another--let alone ride for fun--he or she is likely to say, "To hell with it; I'll have my license soon!"  And, of course, such a ban would deter folks who might have considered a vacation there.  Personally, I wouldn't want to take a trip somewhere if I couldn't ride--unless I were going, say, to climb a mountain or hike a glacier.

Roads like this could soon be off-limits to cyclists in Montana.

The bill also contains another stipulation that would discourage riding:  Cyclists always have to ride single-file, no matter how large their group or how wide the road.  Hmm...Isn't discouraging social interaction among people of a group, or in a particular situation (such a workplace), the easiest way to "divide and conquer"?  That, of course, is what tyrants have always done to exert power over people they want to subjugate.  (Why do you think the slave-merchants brought people from different African clans and tribes aboard their ships?  Those captives didn't speak each other's languages and therefore were kept in a captivity even more pernicious than the chains that bound them.)

Will Montana's new motto be "Where Cycling Died"? 

The second authoritarian absurdity to which Coline alerted me comes from California.  Actually, it falls best into the category of nanny-state nonsense.  While Montana's bill is not yet up for a vote, the ridiculous regulation I'm about to describe became law in the Golden State on the first day of this year.  

Section 27400 of the California Vehicle Code prohibits a person from wearing "a headset covering, earplugs in or earphones covering , resting on or inserted in both ears" while cycling.  It calls for a fine of $178 for a violation.

Now, I want to say that I never ride with any sort of listening device in my ears.  When I'm riding in traffic, I want to be as alert as I can be to traffic and other parts of my surroundings.  When I'm riding in a more bucolic area, I prefer to listen to ambient sounds such as tides and wind or, if there are no such sounds, to simply enjoy the silence.  If I am riding with other cyclists, I cannot interact with them if my ears are plugged and Metallica or whatever is blaring in them.


That said, I can think of no reason to outlaw ear peices or headphones for cyclists.  As the article I've linked explains, if the practice poses any danger, it's only to the cyclists themselves.  Also, as the article points out, there are clusters of cyclists who wear devices while riding. They include urban areas where people are riding to work, doing errands or taking their kids to the park.  They also include college campuses.  Such places are easy targets for police officers who are over-zealous or simply see an easy target.  I don't think it's a stretch to say that the law, like those against loitering (which can be interpreted in all sorts of ways) targets people who have little wealth and power.  In other words, it's a law after Trump's own heart!