The Book That Made Me Trans: The World of the You
When I was invited to be a part of this festival, I felt a good deal of imposter syndrome. There was a nagging voice in my head asking over and over: Am I trans enough? To some degree I take shelter and safety in the privilege of being more or less invisible—readily perceived as a good Asian girl; a representative of either the model minority; or the Chinese virus; or, more recently, talked about by white warm-water drinking influencers who declare, I’m in a very Chinese time of my life.
The Book That Made Me Trans: A Reflection in Oz
Reading widely as a child is travel without a map. You stick mostly to familiar streets, yet sometimes you stumble into an alley that is not exactly forbidden, but not exactly safe either. Thus I remember my deep regret after sneaking a peek inside Stephen King’s Skeleton Crew at an age too tender for auto-cannibalism. In my defence, there was a toy monkey on the cover.
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