Beneath Nature's Blanket

04/07/2011

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SPRING TO ROSES

As spring finally nears, the birds are returning to Wisconsin.  The snows and bitter cold of winter are fading away.  My thoughts have turned to warm weather, green grass, flowers and all the sweet thing things of summer.

During the past months of winter I have been working on my internal structure.  I’ve taken time for extensive personal exploration and reflection.  Adjustment and growth naturally go with that.  I recently reviewed video documentation of my transition and saw the major changes in my life over the course of the past winter.  It was, even to me, pretty extensive.

So now I am ready.  I am ready to radiate my beauty!  Yes, there are thorns, but the beauty is in the bloom.  (Nice color, don’t you think?)  But I’m also trying to keep in mind that I need to enjoy the journey.  I’m not done yet!

Think of the final verse to the song, The Rose.  (Bette Midler’s version will always be my favorite.)

Just remember, far beneath the bitter snows

Lies the seed that with the sun’s love,

In the spring

Becomes the rose

I’ve wanted to become that rose for quite a while.

It’s time.

All the staffers of Team Sunlight have done quite a bit of personal internal work this past winter.  Our roses are ready to bloom this coming spring!

This spring marks the completion of my fourth year of being full-time in the gender of my choice; my correct gender.  I have grown much; spiritually, physically and emotionally.

I’ve found growth to be a process.  I had very little control over it, actually.  I came to realize that it was up to me to do the personal work.  The rest was a matter of trust and allowing my growth to happen.

I learned not to rush it, in other words.  You don’t force a rose to grow; you cultivate it and that means patience.  I realized that I needed other people around me for that process of growth and cultivation.  I found love and support from my friends at Team Sunlight, especially from my friend, sister and mentor, Michelle Alexander.

We all need other people to love us and help us to allow our personal growth to occur naturally, like a rose.  I hope and trust that my friend Michelle has a similar support system around her.  With all she’s been through since The Color of Sunlight was published, she certainly needs it!

My maturation happened when it was supposed to.  As such, I feel altogether prepared to take my place in this spring world with confidence.  As part of my blooming, I will be a fully-functional member of society as my self; Markie Anna Wenzel.  Me: a person fully-functional, unconditionally loving and accepting of others.  For me, that means not only being comfortable in my own skin, but also means having an unshakeable sense of full self-acceptance.

I know that my own beauty comes from within.  Where and how do you plan to bloom this spring?  As for me, I intend to be most elegant rose in the garden and likely the tallest!

We here at Team Sunlight hope and pray that our readers and friends emerge from the bitter snows of winter to bloom as roses.  We pray for us all to emerge and bloom; to let our beauty show the world who and what we truly are.

Allow your life to bloom this spring.  Let the unconditional acceptance you receive here nurture your strong roots so that the rose you were meant to be may blossom.

Bloom where you are planted and may you radiate beauty like a rose!

Markie Anna Wenzel

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The Table Cloth

12/31/2010

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Holiday Greetings to All:

As we come to the end of the holidays, I am, once again, reminded that all things are possible.  I have discovered that things meant for ill or with ill intentions can be used for good.

I never cease to be amazed to discover that, when one follows inspiration, the right circumstance, people, and things appear when needed.

Sometimes events, people and things work together for good.

The story that follows helped ground me to the truth: however bad things may seem to be, there is always a reason for it.  Our heart’s desires do not always show up on schedule.  They seem to have their own agenda, and sometimes this takes many years.

With these thoughts in mind, I present:



The Table Cloth

The new pastor and his wife, recently assigned to their first ministry--reopening a church in suburban Brooklyn--arrived in early October, excited about their opportunities.  When they first saw their church, it was very run-down and in need of a great deal of work.  They set a goal to have everything done in time for their first service on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard: repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, replacing rotting wood, plumbing and all the many things that had been neglected over the years.  On December eighteenth, they were ahead of schedule and almost finished.

On December nineteenth, a terrible tempest--a driving rainstorm--hit the area and lasted for two days.  The weather was so bad; the pastor couldn’t get over to the church to check on its condition.  He waited, praying often.

On the twenty-first, the weather cleared and he finally had a chance to inspect it.  His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing an enormous section of plaster, about a hundred and sixty feet square, to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary, just behind the pulpit.  There was water damage and many small items had been ruined.

The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor.  Not knowing what else to do, he started for home with a heavy heart, realizing that he had no choice but to cancel the Christmas services.

On the way home, he passed a store that was hosting a flea market for charity.  He stopped and went in to see if he could find some items to replace those damaged at the church.

One of the items he found was a beautiful, ivory-colored, hand-crocheted table-cloth.  There was a cross embroidered in the center of it.  Coincidentally, it was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall.

He bought it and headed back to the church.  By this time, it had begun to snow.  As he was arriving, the pastor saw an elderly woman running from the opposite direction, trying to catch a bus.  She missed it. Eying the thick white flakes drifting down, the pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus.  She accepted and sat in a pew, keeping to herself, trying to catch her breath.

He busied himself with a ladder and hung the tablecloth as a wall tapestry over the enormous hole.  When he was done, the pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked; how well it covered the bare wood and discolored plaster.  He turned and saw the elderly woman coming down the center aisle toward him, staring at the table-cloth.  Her face was as white as a sheet of paper.

“Pastor,” she asked, “Where did you get that tablecloth?”  Surprised at her intensity, the pastor told her. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner of the table-cloth to see if the initials EBG were crocheted into it there.

They were.

They were her initials.  She had made this tablecloth years before, in Austria.

Before the war, she and her husband had lived in Austria.  They were comfortable, but not especially wealthy.  But when the Nazis seized control, she, like everyone else, lost everything and was forced to flee the country rather than submit to their murderous regime.  Her husband had planned to follow her the next week.  All was in readiness for their escape, but she was captured as she tried to leave the city.  She was sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she refused, insisting that he keep it for the church.  The pastor insisted on driving her home, knowing in his heart that it was the least he could do for this wonderful old woman.  She lived on the other side of Staten Island.  She had come to Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.  She lived on the third floor.  The pastor was only too glad to help the elderly cleaning woman up those stairs.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve!  The church was almost full.  The music was lovely and everyone’s spirits were in fine form on the eve of the anniversary of Our Lord’s birth.  When the service was concluded, the pastor and his wife stationed themselves at the door to speak with the many attendees as they left and offer their best wishes for a happy holiday season.  Most said that they would return; praising the service as one of the most heartfelt they had ever attended.

One older gentleman remained in one of the pews.  The pastor noticed him and recognized him as a resident of the church’s immediate neighborhood.  Suddenly, the old gentleman got up and approached him.  The pastor was again a bit astonished at the intensity with which the man spoke:

He asked where the pastor had gotten the tablecloth on the front wall.  It was identical to one that his wife had made years ago, in Austria, before the war.  How, the man demanded, could there be two tablecloths so much alike?  He told the pastor a familiar story: the Nazis came and he forced his wife to flee for her safety.  He was supposed to have followed her, but he was arrested and sent to prison.

He never saw his wife or home again.

The pastor asked the old gentleman if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.  They drove to Staten Island.  He helped the old fellow climb the three flights of stairs to a certain apartment.  He knocked on the door.

When it opened, he was privileged to see the greatest Christmas reunion one could possibly imagine.

(A true story submitted by Pastor Rob Reid.)



What a wonderful reminder to all of us: God works in mysterious ways.  How many times have each of us struggled to understand our own troubles and disappointments?  Consider: God wants the best for all of us.  If He allows us to struggle, it’s for a reason.  We may not immediately understand it.  We may never understand it until our time comes to stand before Him.

But consider this, too: what if that storm had never occurred?  What if the damage to the church had never happened?  He would never have needed the tablecloth in the first place.  What if he had given up when he had first seen the damage?

He didn’t.  It may have been a struggle to accomplish what God wanted him to do, but the purpose of that struggle was not to make things difficult for him.  It allowed him to be the instrument for the beautiful reunion of a couple separated for many years.  Wasn’t that worth the struggle?

I say yes.  I think you will agree: it was worth it.

Next time things get a little difficult for you, try to see beyond the immediate situation.  You’ll find out that the struggle may be the foundation for a most rewarding situation: a better life and a deeper understanding of your own purpose.  Try to bless your struggles, knowing that God does not want you to suffer.  If He allows us to have hard times, it’s always for a wonderful and very rewarding reason.  When the road you’re traveling seems difficult, remember: all you need is acceptance.  God will do the rest.



Markie Anna Wenzel

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Random Act of Kindness

11/13/2010

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We are quickly approaching the holiday season; the time of year usually reserved for giving; Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Kwanzaa and Christmas*.  Some people will give as a gesture of love; others will give to see what they can get in return.  Others will give as a repayment and there are those who will give as an expression of commitment. 

I wonder, though, if there is a way to give all the year ‘round; to meet the emotional and spiritual needs of those we do not know.  An act which perhaps might signify, in a very small way, that sense of community we all seek?


More concisely, I’m referring to something we call ‘random acts of kindness’.  This involves doing something for a stranger or at least someone not necessarily acquainted with you.  It means doing something to help or reaching out to meet a need, however small, or just being a blessing on a short term basis. 

But it’s really about investing in people for the long term.

(This doesn’t necessarily mean adopting anyone or taking someone under your wing—there’s that goose reference again, darn it—and in fact, it need not lead any place except back to the original intent: to just help out, even for a bit.)

The goal is to care; to give hope and maybe even love when people need it the most.

Random acts of kindness are usually performed by people who have that natural disposition; an urge to do something nice once in a while, just for the sake of it. In our community, though, there are a lot of people with many needs.  Only a very few of us can look beyond our own day-to-day needs and see that.

Consequently, a great many of us feel isolated; alone; even abandoned. 

It only takes a few of us to step up and do something that could make a world of difference in someone else’s life! 

You can give that kindness silently, with just a smile. You don’t have to make a big deal about it. I think they call that ‘grace’. 

Come, let us reason together.  An act of kindness can be in response to a need; one which you might feel someday.  It’s a chance to put something back into the community in which you live; a kind of positive feedback effect which any healthy society needs in order to survive.  (Say it with me now: pay it forward.)  It’s an opportunity to give love unconditionally.

And how often do you get to do that?

By definition, kindness implies consideration and helpfulness; to be tender, humane, and gentle.  I like compassionate, too.  (Take it from me, compassion is very important!)  A random act of kindness can occur anywhere and for anybody, for any reason.

‘Random’ implies that some things just aren’t planned.  But when the opportunity presents itself, you’ll know and that’s when you can and should act.

A random act of kindness can be as simple as having a sympathetic attitude toward others.

A random act of kindness could also be generosity to a stranger.

There are, in fact, as many possible acts of kindness as there are people to perform them and those who may be recipients of them.  Think about it: there are six billion people on this planet and six billion ways to do something nice for someone else.

Kind of mind-boggling, isn’t it?

It’s one way to change our world by taking positive action.

Yes, this sometimes requires an extreme act of faith in people you don’t know.  But how will you know unless you try, at least once?

In a very real sense, you have to look out for people, to be more aware.  Look around you.  Do you see anyone who might need a little something; anything? 

I’ll bet you can, if you really look.  They can’t always see what they need.  Maybe you can.

Consider that good deeds are another kind of feedback loop: well-being and doing something that matters.  A cycle of reciprocation naturally follows:

First the well-being; it’s been proven, repeatedly, that an act of kindness causes a release of serotonin, a neurotransmitter vital for that sense of well-being.  It actually feels good to do something nice!

(You’d think that most folks would have figured this out long ago.)

The act of kindness provides a positive increase in mood and, not so coincidentally, a big boost to the immune system.  The amount of kindness or generosity inherent in the act itself seems to increase the effect, even if it’s performed repeatedly.  For the recipient, there’s also a measurable increase in mood and the efficiency of the immune system.

Let’s see: random acts of kindness can lead to a continued sense of well-being and a healthier immune system; meaning less illness and an extended life-span.  An act of kindness is like a dose of an anti-depressant without the side-effects and is, in fact, utterly addiction-free.

(Unless, of course, you decide that you like it.) 

What a deal!  I’ll take it!

Here are three examples of my own random acts of kindness:

I was at the 99 cent store last week when a man approached me and asked for bus fare.  He was dressed in threadbare clothes, needed a bath and a shave in the worst way and had that hopeless look at the back of his eyes.  Seeing him, I realized that this fellow probably wanted money for drugs or alcohol. 

I thought fast and offered him some bus tickets, which he accepted.  (I said a brief prayer that he wouldn’t trade them for money to buy drugs or booze!)  I’d like to think that I was able to save him from the consequences of whatever he was planning to do.  He didn’t need money so much as he needed help.   I gently told him about the homeless shelters nearby and asked if I could buy him something to eat.  He declined, but I think he was a little stunned that I’d reached out to him, if only for a moment.

A few days later, I was at my favorite farmer’s market,  There was a lady on a medical scooter with a bag of apples that she had just purchased.  As she tootled around on her scooter, the bag of apples caught on a display and spilled all over the floor.

Embarrassment made me turn away and, at first, ignore the situation.  But a little voice in my head screamed: “What are you doing?  Help her!  Pick up her apples!”

I picked up all the lady's apples.  I think my ears might have been almost as red as those lovely pieces of fruit.  Sure, I could have waited to see if anyone else would help her; maybe a clerk or another shopper.

But I did it.  She thanked me.  That felt pretty good and my immune system got a nice jolt out of it, too.  It’s a small thing, isn’t it?  But it still means Community.

I have two friends; Ashley and Terri.  They’re trans women and legally married.  I suppose I don’t need to add that they love each other wonderfully but I will, anyway.

Terri was diagnosed with colorectal cancer a few weeks ago and was scheduled for surgery soon.  The day for the procedure came and when she was being prepped, she somehow found the time to post a message on-line, telling us that she would be going into surgery soon.  I replied with a post of my own: “Prayers for you.”

About thirty minutes later, Ashley called. She asked me to have breakfast with her as Terri was now in surgery and it would be at least a four or five hour wait.  (I’d wondered why I’d awakened at four am that morning!  Surely it wasn’t just to get my chores done early?)

Ashley wanted someone to sit with her and have a cup of coffee; to spend some time with her and take her mind off what her beloved was going through.  She needed comfort and I was glad to be there, at the right time and place for her in her hours of need.

Sometimes just being there can be a big thing, much bigger than what you might expect.

Community is society-wide.  When people are in need, in or out of our community, we can take that opportunity to meet the need, even if it’s just picking up some apples.

I like to do things for others on a pay-it-forward basis.  I do not want repayment!  All I ask is that the person I am assisting do something for someone else. 

If ever you have a choice to be kind or to be right, always choose kind!

Do something kind for someone today.  Do it.  You’ll live longer, you won’t get the sniffles as often and you’ll feel good.

That’s the best deal you’ll get anywhere, anytime, any place.

Markie Anne Wenzel


*(No, I didn’t forget Chinese New Year! But that happens in February . . .) 

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Community - Part Two

10/15/2010

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In our last blog, we discussed some of the basics of what community is and what it does, using flocks of geese as an example.  

But people aren’t geese, even if we sometimes behave like them.

 Let’s make this a bit more personal and talk about death and loss.

Recently, I attended a candlelight vigil in Milwaukee for a murdered trans woman.  Let’s call her Chanel, shall we?

I didn’t know her.  I attended out of the spirit of community, but I sat through the entire vigil with something nagging at my subconscious; something I think might have passed through all our minds at one point or another:

          I’m not a victim.

Not only that, I don’t want to be a victim, not for any reason.  But sitting there, hearing some of Chanel’s story, I realized that this was a story I’d heard far too many times before and it was always the same thing: another trans woman who became a victim, no matter what she believed or wanted.  Thinking about it much later, I realized that this was what was nagging me and it made me sad.  Is that all there is for most of us?

NO.  I’d missed the point of that evening, probably because I was sitting there in the middle of it and far too absorbed with my own victim-ness.  I admit; it took a while for this to shift in my consciousness:  

          It’s not about being a victim.
          It’s about coming together as community.

Michelle Alexander once told me that funerals are for the living.  You bet they are; the dead can hardly appreciate them, can they?  I sat among Chanel’s family and friends; people I didn’t know and probably wouldn’t if I hadn’t attended and saw that there were a lot of people present to celebrate this woman’s life.

It was lovely, really.  I think she would have liked it.  But she wasn’t there.  Instead, we were there: her family, both blood relatives and the trans community; there for her because she couldn’t be there.  We came together for her.  We showed our support with our presence and we demonstrated that we give a damn about each other. 

A community, in other words. 

The trans community, the white community and the Afro-American community; all of us came together for Chanel that evening .  It was a gumbo of epic proportions.  Speaking of proportions, I’m pretty sure the demographics in that room were fairly representative of America as a whole.  Well, maybe not; Hispanics and Asians were under-represented.  But we came together in support of each other and to remember Chanel.

Some of the speakers during the vigil referred to Chanel’s trans family.  It was a new term for me; I’ve only been out for a short while and frankly, I’m not as knowledgeable about the many facets of our community as I’d like to be.  So I was surprised to find that Chanel had two families; her blood relations and her trans family.  For the most part, they knew each other as well as you’d know your own cousins; some pretty well, some not at all. 

But there was no doubt in my mind that they were all family to Chanel. 

There was no doubt that both families served the same purpose and had the same functions; support, accountability and mentoring.  Being there for one another.  Supporting one another.  Family/community and yes, they are inseparable. 

That night, the two were obviously inseparable but I didn’t really consider it in depth until weeks later.

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  No kidding! In the past months, I’ve had grow up and change my thinking about quite a number of things.  I’ve had to take responsibility for my life and my past and then forgive my past, hard as that might seem.  But in the process, without being consciously aware of it, I might have lost a bit of the connections between myself and my community.

The vigil helped shift my focus off me and onto the well-being of others.  It illustrated what collective action can do.  It showed me, even if I didn’t get it at first, that this is not about me personally.  It’s about individuals in the community coming together to meet the needs of other individuals within that community.

Mentoring is a terrific way to build a community.  A mentor is someone entrusted with the care and education of another.  A mentor is a wise and trusted counselor; influential and supportive and always willing to advise and act as advocate, regardless of social status.  In Native American cultures, the tribe maintains the community by using natural mentors; those most able or willing to undertake the task.  Native American children rarely, if ever, lacked for mentors, unlike our own so-called advanced culture. 

I’ve been asked to mentor some of the new hires at my work recently.  My primary responsibility will be to help these people learn company-approved procedures and give them the opportunity they need for hands-on experience.  I have an obligation to ensure that my charges know the job well enough to succeed on their own.

I admit I was rather flattered when a young trans woman at my work—we’ll call her Lisa—approached me for help; quite publicly, too.  Lisa is just beginning her Journey and needed advice about hormones and support groups and therapists.  (The common issues we all face, in other words.)  “Here’s a great opportunity to begin a mentor relationship with Lisa!” I thought to myself.  So I answered her questions, offered some advice and now we’re becoming friends.

Perhaps in our community, the more experienced ought to teach the least experienced the basics as well as offer some helpful suggestions and advice.  Encouragement and validation should be part of that mix as well.  A little praise goes a long way with someone whose self-esteem is scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Here’s a thought: we could increase accountability and maturity in the young people of our community.  To a teenage trans kid, just knowing someone is there for them and that they’re not so terribly alone and isolated can make all the difference in the world.

There’s another possible benefit to bringing people together; to showing that we care about one another and that we’re committed to supporting each other through mentoring.  We could reduce the suicide rate in our community.  Did you know that the trans community has a higher suicide rate than that of Sweden?  In case you didn’t know, Sweden has the highest suicide rate of all the industrialized nations in the world. 

(They could benefit from some mentoring, too.)

I am here for you.  It truly is about helping each other become ourselves.  I’ll be forever grateful that I had people at my side that taught me about life and helped straighten me out when I made mistakes.  Now it’s time for me to pay it forward.

It’s time for me to reach out to others and help build our community.

I mean what I say.  Our goal here at The Color of Sunlight is the end of fragmentation and isolation.  We intend to be a tool that helps form and sustain the mentoring relationship.

We are committed to building community,

This is not about me.  It’s not about you.  It’s about us; the individuals in the community coming together to meet other’s needs; a family of many colors and shapes, no two alike and that’s how it should be, always. 



Markie Anna Wenzel
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Community: it's not about me, all by myself!

09/27/2010

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Community is by definition a social group sharing common characteristics and one that presents itself as distinct from the society in which it exists.

In any community, it shouldn’t be about the individual feeling the drag of resistance of trying to go it alone.

The transgender community is no different.  Our distinct common characteristic is our struggle with gender identity.  In this blog, I’d like to examine how we can help each other to grow and thrive on each step of our individual journeys.  In our community, we should never be alone and we should always be supported, if only by a 24-hour online group.

Let’s consider a story about how geese support their own.

In the goose world, geese honor each other by sharing a common direction and a sense of community.  They fly together, trading the leadership position in the forefront of the V formation for no apparent reason other than necessity when the lead goose grows tired.  Status, prestige, size and competitiveness do not appear to matter; there is a need and any one goose able to take the lead does so without any of the struggle for supremacy that is the hallmark of the human race. 

The geese are willing to give and accept, regardless of whether the lead goose is the biggest, sassiest gander in the flock or a meek, unremarkable little mama goose.  We here at the Color of Sunlight aren’t much different.  We’re willing to accept and give help to each other and our readers, regardless of who you are or what your reputation implies.

The geese take turns doing demanding jobs.  They honor and encourage the leader—and each other--from the back of the V formation with their trust and acceptance.

When a goose falls out of formation, other geese follow to lend help and protection until the fallen goose dies or is able to fly again.  I observed these principles time and again this spring here in Wisconsin.  The geese were mating and laying eggs and raising their young.  They had guards from other birds such as the sea gulls.  They policed their own behavior, insuring that no one had exclusive access to resources such as food, bedding or protection from the elements and that all had at least equal opportunity to share in those resources.  Briefly, they displayed all the elements necessary to a successful community.

The transgender community could take a cue from those geese.  We need to support each other in every aspect of our lives.

(In Milwaukee, we started a faith support group called Grace Group, for just this purpose.  It seems to be working quite well.)

I often feel as if I’m all alone, but it helps to have people around me (like the team at TCOSL!) to help and support me; even to challenge me or perhaps just to listen when I need a friendly ear.

Occasionally, it falls to me to provide the same when someone else needs assistance.  One of our goals here at TCOSL is to provide community in this website; a safe and inspirational place to be.

In the book, Michelle Alexander realized that Mishelle Woodring needed a friend and that she was entitled to unconditional love by simple virtue of the fact that she was a human being; a fallen member of the human flock.  Sometimes the most obvious things are the most overlooked.

Would you like to join us?  We’re taking a cue from those geese.  Whether you’re just starting out or you’re well past transition and surgery, there is a place for you in our community: our formation in the sky.

It’s a big sky and we’re going places.  Join us, won’t you?  Spread your wings!

Markie Anna Wenzel
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The Color of Sunlight

09/18/2010

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With the exception of the Bible, no other book that I have read in the course of my lifetime has had as much impact as The Color of Sunlight.

I came from a fundamental Christian tradition, which definitely said that I was a sinner or, at the very least, misguided.  It seemed that, as a struggling trans woman, unsure of whether my identity issues were real or imagined (or even right or wrong, for that matter), I had made a major mistake in transitioning.

I heard Michelle Alexander for the first time on the TransFM broadcasting network with Ethan St Pierre.  Michelle commented that she had come to the conclusion that gender identity is part of one’s internal emotional landscape.  I pondered this for a while and concluded that this truth could set me free.  I ordered the book and read it during June of 2010.

This story is about life, spiritual belief and, subtly, social education.  It’s also a wonderful way for the public at large to learn about transgender people.

Sunlight is primarily about unconditional love and acceptance and what that truly means in the real world, not just the heart’s desire for that ideal goal.  I read about the courage a natal woman had to put herself on the line, to accept and love a trans woman.  Mishelle Woodring offered to answer any question, if Michelle Alexander had but the courage to ask.  Michelle Alexander did indeed have that necessary courage and that led inevitably to her to commitment to write The Color of Sunlight.  I will not go into the book’s amazing, detailed descriptions or the substance of the relationship between the two women.  However, in future blogs, I will discuss various aspects of this book and how they can be learned, internalized and applied to one’s own life.

I believe that all who are lost or unsure of their own identity or merely curious about the concept of transgender should purchase this book, read it and pass it on as a resource for others.  I advise all trans folk to take a cue from Mishelle Woodring and offer to answer those hard questions if others have the courage to ask them.  Michelle Alexander’s promise to Mishelle Woodring was to teach, inform and pass the word.  Can you do any less?  Join us here at The Color of Sunlight and help us spread the word.

Markie Ann Wenzel
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