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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 4, 1998)
JTiTiJÏJInews RE/MAX S T he G ift of G ab Continued from the cover T Yet here at the Interstate Firehouse Cultur al Center in North Portland, surrounded by art and the rise and fall of actors’ voices from across the hall, a harmoniousness pervades. For the past two months, 15 members of the project’s two completed trans groups have been planning and rehearsing for their theatri cal presentation entitled Transparencies, a "synthesis of personal stories, experiences, interactions and awarenesses brought to the Conversations Project and taken from it.” About a dozen people are here this night, despite Mother Nature’s rambunctiousness. They’re gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual and transgender—a people potpourri. Aspen, a longtime fixture in the lesbian community, is among the crew, as is Lori Buck- waiter, a trans activist. The two stand face to face, while everyone else sits in a wide circle on folding chairs. Aspen is playing the part of the manager of a “family” restaurant. Buckwalter, meanwhile, is acting as a job seeker responding to the eatery’s help wanted sign. “Hi, can I help you?” asks Aspen. he project, propped up by funding from the Equity Foundation and McKenzie River Gathering Foundation, was launched in the early spring by Pride North west Inc., organizer of Portland’s annual queer pride parade and festival. As the project was getting off the ground, Pride Northwest board member Kristan Aspen talked about the emotional slashes left on many people following the Oregon Citizens Alliances anti-gay campaigns. The damage she was discussing, however, was not inflicted by O CA leader Lon Mabon and his cronies— it instead dealt with divisions within the queer community. Others shared Aspen’s assessment that many queers— trans people and leather enthu siasts, people of color, anyone “who didn’t look and act like a straight, white banker”—were essentially shunted aside and discouraged from too-public involvement in the 1992 campaign to mm, defeat the OCA’s ballot measure, as well as a similar effort two years later. Some critics said it , .... was a “sanitization strat tSm egy” that further alien ated already marginal ized sectors within the queer community. The Conversations Project was conceived as a way to begin heal ing those wounds. “By coming together in small groups we can create safe spaces to lis ten to each other, learn from each other, heal our divisions, and help weave a stronger com munity,” says the pro ject’s mission statement. So how does it work? A conversation begins with two people from an identified constituency group and two people from the queer commu nity at large. A facilita Lori Buckwalter (left) and Kristan Aspen rehearse Transparencies tor is present to keep Buckwalter, who stands 6-feet-6-inches the conversation focused and safe for all tall, responds, “I’m here to apply for the wait involved. After a few meetings, the conversa tion expands “in a way that is comfortable for ress position.” With a flicker of hesitation and a hint of the constituency group.” After a handful of meetings of the larger group, the “constituen disapproval, Aspen answers, “Oh, well, uh, do cy group [plans] a public presentation with the you have any experience ?” invited support or participation of the other members of the conversation.” The conversations last an estimated eight weeks. The project’s ground rules stipulate par ticipants speak from their own experiences, listen respectfully without interrupting, and engage in no personal attacks. The project began with four groups. One, involving African American gay men and queers who are not African American, is still meeting. Three of the initial groups were composed of trans people and nontrans queer people. Buckwalter tells her she has plenty, at One of these has been disbanded; the other two have completed the conversation segment which point Aspen states, “1 don’t think we have uniforms for someone so tall.” and are now preparing a public presentation. Buckwalter tells Aspen that’s not a prob lem, she has her own. his is not a typical November night. The Seeing no other way out, Aspen puts it on rain is beating down more intensely than the table: “Well, 1 don’t think you’d really fit usual; the driving winds have snapped power in here—this is a family restaurant.” lines, affecting tens of thousands. The project's ground rules stipulate participants speak from their own experiences, listen respectfully without interrupting, and engage in no personal attacks. T Taken aback in a sad and nuanced way, Buckwalter offers this: “I have a family.” There is a moment of silence as the effect permeates the room, then the onlookers break out in applause. It sounds really good. Still, Judith Yeckel, lFCC’s artistic director—who is guiding this production—calls for another run through, followed by another. In a warm and friendly way, she and other production members serve up suggestions: Aspen sounded too nice. Pause here, don’t pause there. Finally, the porridge is just right. ig n a t u r e P r o p e r t ie s ! A t the end of the evening after everyone has headed out into the elements, Eric Tyler, a female-to-male transsexual, takes a moment to reflect on the Conversations Pro ject. Tyler, 42, began seriously pondering the possibility of gender reassignment about two years ago. At the time, he was living as a les bian, yet he knew something just didn’t fit. In short, Tyler dug deep inside himself, embarked Original 1960s 3 bedroom w/curb appeal! Hardwoods thru-out, all new windows, fireplace, covered patio in back w/huge fenced yard, garage. $109.950. Tina Schafer RE/MAX Signature Properties 282-4000 122 X e-mail: tina@rmls.com !7?ose G i/is VETERINARY HOSPITAL Pam per you r cat or dog at our Pet Groom ing Salon. upon some research, and concluded gender reassignment was a necessity. About 11 months ago, he began hormone therapy and has since undergone one surgery; another is slated for June. Today, Tyler is feeling better than ever. Still, he admits his journey has been laced with loss and pain. Some friends have left, but new relationships have been forged. Indeed, Tyler credits the Conversations Project with helping shatter some of the isolation he once felt. “We share our personal stories,” he says. “It’s through this personal stuff where we found our common ground.” £ CN >0 Crs ro » 3 O CD <3 75 £ o © I « <55 ■ T ransparencies is a free theatrical production slated for Thursday, Dec. 10, at 7:30 p.m. at the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center, 5340 N. Interstate Ave. m Portland. A reception u/ill fol - low. Anyone interested in participating in the C onversations P roject m the future may pick up an application form at the reception, or call Pride Northwest’s hot line at 295-9788. New groups will be starting in January, pending receipt of additional funding for the project. Q. 'S to ? 0> o CO o > o 0O |c § * I