An Anniversary...

Sealy - October 21, 2012

I've blogged earlier about Sealy coming into my life.  Whenever people tell me what a lucky dog she was (to have been rescued) I always reply that I'm the one who got lucky.  The truth is that both of us got lucky, I suppose.  She's a happy, happy dog, and being surrounded by her happiness every day reminds me that happiness is there for the absorbing.  It's a perspective, an outlook...

first night - October 21, 2008
(Believe it or not, she's 5-6 months old here, not a baby puppy!  Sealy had been sick for
months in the shelter,  and this was before the surgery to remove the collapsed lung lobe
several months later.)

one year later - October 20, 2009
(Looking ever so much healthier!)

two years later - October 21, 2010
(After a "mock" obedience trial -  novice classes only - with her muzzle beginning to gray...)

three years later - October 30, 2011
 (The freak snow was from a nor-easter!)

Growth

Last June, concertizing in California, I payed a visit once again to Muir Woods.  As a girl, I was taken hiking and camping in the redwoods of Southern California;  later, as a teen-ager and young adult several times I spent time near the coastal redwoods of Northern California;  and when I lived in San Francisco, in my mid-twenties, hiking in the the trails surrounding Muir Woods  (and walking in the woods themselves) was a not-so-secret pleasure.  There is something about these giant creatures that soothes me; it's not just their smell or color, or the softness of the ground underfoot but something far more fundamental: these trees are alive in a way I wish to be, patiently growing—surviving immense obstacles—over hundreds of years,  from sprouts no taller than the span of the palm of my hand to heights of over 350 feet.   Their height are hard to fathom, looking straight up, but earlier that month, about two weeks previously, one tree at the northern end of Cathedral Grove, had snapped at the base, spanning the narrow valley over the creek.  In looking at the tree lying horizontally I had a whole new perspective of what "span" really means.  I put my hands on the trunk, and it was vibrating still, brimming with life force. 

Thoughts about Peru

Morning in Machu Picchu

Even since I was a little girl for some reason I've wanted to walk the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, and so  I did, finishing a four day trek and waking up the next day at the site on my 50th birthday.  When people ask what it was like, my answer is often that I learned if you keep putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how slowly you're going, eventually you get someplace.  

The trail isn't technically hard, but it's high (crossing three high passes, almost 14,000 feet) and steep.  The scenery is utterly incredible, simply spectacular.   There's an annotated photo album on Facebook and also many more photos at http://gallery.me.com/buzzarte.     There are far, far, too many things to go into here, but let me close with one more image:

This giant monolith, an immense irregular boulder about 60 feet high, stands on the trail between the Sun Gate at Machu Picchu itself, facing north and overlooking the Machu Picchu site almost as a guardian.  I was drawn to it very strongly.  Later on I found out that about four feet in front of this rock was found "the finest burial" at Machu Picchu:  a female human skeleton, with artifacts, along with the skeleton of a small collie-like dog.   It's no accident that this burial was here, or that I felt its power.

Vault

Vault 201

The Cooper-Hewitt National Design Triennial exhibition “Why Design Now?” New York, NY : 2010 

Lara Davis, Construction Manager

Ochsendorf DeJong & Block, L.L.C. - Structural Engineering Consultants 

I suppose one of things about getting older is that younger friends begin to make their mark in the world.
I'm so fond of Lara Davis, one of my friends, and an artist through and through.  I first meet her when she was an undergraduate, an intern for the Pauline Oliveros Foundation, now known as the Deep Listening Institute, and we have been friends since.  The singing (and splashing boiling water) tea kettle.  A lift to the all-night gas station in Rhode Island.  The house on the lake and the dog lured in with beef stew.  The brief stay in 4J.  The times she worked as a human backhoe.  A life in Brooklyn.  And then...  The book portfolio.  MIT.  (All architects should be artists!)  Vaults.   Ethiopia...Switzerland.  Look out, world!

Two Years

Much has happened in the last six months (two CD releases!  trekking in Peru!  how to best resolve conflicts between Arizona's SB 1070 and professional conferences scheduled to be held in Arizona in 2011?) and it's quite evident to me that I'm not much of a blogger.    At least, not a timely blogger.  However,  tonight's post is about something that happened two years ago the day before yesterday, when Sealy (then known as Cieli) came into my life.

She was perhaps five months old then, very sick, and had been sick for over three months at that point with reoccurring pneumonia and a collapsed lung, living in the medical kennels of an animal shelter.

It had been almost four years by that time since Suki had died, and I'd gone out  to the shelter that day to put my name on a list to be called if border collie mixes came in.  For some reason I happened to ask if they could use someone to take in dogs short-term, and I was sent next door to the medical kennels to meet with the foster dog coordinator, who quite atypically was willing to place Cieli with me even though I was a stranger off the street (she did contact my references first!). 

First night:  October 21, 2008

The shelter hoped that a foster home placement might break the cycle of reinfection, and I agreed to keep her for two weeks to two months, and take her in for checkups as needed (usually every two weeks).   We walked around the block at the shelter, and she was curious about a leaf blower and kids skateboarding, not frightened of them.   Despite her life so far - in the medical kennel, Cieli seemed...well, happy!  

Time passed, but her pneumonia continued, her lung remained collapsed.  Eventually the shelter agreed to pay for surgery to remove the collapsed lung (close to $4,000 at NYC prices).  In January 2009 she had the operation,  survived the operation (!), and came home with a giant red bandage and instructions not to let her run or jump for about a month, which crated or confined in a small area.

After lung surgery:  January 10, 2009

After the bandage came off, the angel puppy - who by then had lived with me for 2 1/2 months never crated, never destructive, was feeling a lot better.   It took me a day or two to realize that puppy mischief was now a factor.  In the meantime...

  

Sealy fished this off the desk (inside a plastic case).  No harm done to her, thank goodness!

(She also ate through my gig bag!)

Sealy was cleared for adoption and on March 19. 2009 to no one's surprise (except mine) she became mine.   I changed the spelling of her name to Sealy since she reminded me of a little black seal, and I love the sea ("Sea-lee" or maybe "See-lee" was one of the three ways people pronounced the Cieli spelling - the others were "kay-lee" and "chay-lee").

  

Happy Sealy (happier Monique) with fur growing back:  April 9, 2009

In the year and a half since that adoption, Sealy's presence has brought joy and happiness into my life each day.   Thank you, Sealy.

Remembered

I attend an awful lot of arts events each year, and in truth most of them don't stick with me.  One of the questions in a radio interview today was what were the most memorable performances I've recently attended.  Four sprang immediately to mind, and since they're so diverse I thought I'd share them here.

The incomparable Sarah Cahill, performing Ingram Marshell's Authentic Presence on a March 28, 2010 program at Caramoor.   (Disclaimer - this photo is of another composition on her program.)  I adore Sarah's playing, and I still have this piece - heard by me for the first time that evening - resounding inside my head (and heart).


The Metropolitan Opera's production of Phillip Glass' Satyagraha (from the 2007-2008 season).  Yes, of course, that last tenor aria is sublime, but what really struck me - and stuck with me - was the incredible stage magic of the Improbable Theater Company.


Pauline Oliveros and Susie Ibarra's set at The Stone last Saturday night.   Two incredible artists (that night using digital accordion and percussion).  I often "hear" colors, but this was the first time that listening invoked a smell.  (Skunk!).  


Les Éphémères by Le Thèâtre du Soleil at the Lincoln Center Festival (summer 2009).   A transcendently compassionate transformative production, directed by Ariane Mnouchkine.

An Outdoor Match

On May 2, Sealy went to her second match.   This was an outdoor event, and also sponsored by the First Dog Training Dog of Northern New Jersey, where we've been attending classes.  


It was a hot, hot day (about 90) but fortunately there were kiddie wading pools - and a garden hose - to cool down the dogs.  (I'd wet her down,  and she'd be dry in about twenty minutes.)


I did two entries again at this match, with similar results as the last time, which was indoors, not outdoors.   


Probably the most amusing thing happened in the first entry during the long down:  Sealy became absorbed in something - presumably a bug in the ground -  and first stretched and then crawled out of her long down to keep track of it.   My fault, of course!   I was remiss, and hadn't worked her outside - a textbook example of how all kinds of proofing is so important.  (In the long sit she became absorbed in a - yikes - slow moving bumblebee, but didn't break...).


I'm planning to trial her late July - mid August.  It's early - my work is cut out for me! -  but after late June I'll have time to train, and it will be good for me to be working towards a goal.  

Is Music Gay?

This fall, Joseph Dalton began a blog called My Gay Ears about gay composers and musicians, and up yesterday went a profile/interview of me in his  "queeries" section.

As anyone who knows me might have predicted, I'm not especially easy to categorize - I identify with my name, as a musician, but not with much else.  While it's rather difficult  for me to imagine just how the noun or verb or even adjective of being "lesbian" translates audibly into my performances or compositions (and even if it does, what would it matter?)  at the same time I am the sum of my parts, and this is a part of me, so when invited to be "queeried" by Jody I said yes.  I'm very curious to read how people respond to this piece, so please - leave a comment on that site!  (The comments section is at the very end of the story, under the box for the Amazon store.)

PS For those who don't know, Jody (as he's known) was CRI's Executive Director for about a decade (remember the Gay American Composers Vol. 1 & 2, and Lesbian American Composers compilations CDs?).    Now he's an arts writer and consultant.  (He was also a congressional page and an Eagle scout...)

The Clock Starts Over

Today's match, inside at the First Dog Training Club of Northern New Jersey where we've been attending classes, could have gone much, much worse.   Sealy did better than I had any reason to expect (given the modest amount of  practicing we did) but she didn't achieve anywhere near her potential.  We had two entries:   for the first one I decided to do the stand and off-lead heeling on lead, and formally (no talking to her), and then for the second to do the stand and off-lead heeling off-lead.

I need to work with her on attention (especially when I'm not talking to her, encouraging her), fronts, and the automatic sit.   In the long down for the first entry the dog next to her got up, came over, stood over her, and finally nuzzled her side, at which point she broke.  In the long-down for the second entry,  the same dog did the same thing, but this time Sealy didn't break.  Yay Sealy!   

Countdown - 3 Days!

Truth be told, I don't do too many other things in my life aside from working, and my dog Sealy is my main outlet for NOT working!    There are the daily walks with her, both in the woods in the morning and late evening, and in the afternoon in the neighborhood and dog run.  (In her company the amount of human interaction for me increases ten-fold.)  I love to watch her run and gambol, and her sheer joy exuberance in the world is a model for me to emulate.  She's a happy, happy, dog - good for Monique-as-a-Melancholy-Jaques to be around.   I find working with Sealy on these obediences exercises fun, and even though we're not as "ready" for the match on Saturday as I'd hoped to be, knowing there would be intermittent reports on this blog of our progress helped me train more than I likely would have otherwise.  

Sealy's recall has always been fast, like a rocket, but in the last few days she's begun to stop herself by rebounding off me at the end (instead of sitting in front).  Part of this is that as I've increased the distance, and the time before I call her (and distractions) she's gotten herself rather wound up - it's hard for her to wait to start with, and now the release for her of finally being called by me results in her imitating a popping champagne cork.   First I tried adding back in the sit command (she's so fast it's "Sealy, Come! Sit!!!"   at 30 feet), and then  I went back to shorter distances (and on-lead) so she can't get up much speed and can be right more often.  Handler error here - I tried to do too much too soon.

My four goals from nine days ago were:  automatic sits when heeling, straight fronts on the recall, stand, and fading my feet from finish.  While there's been progress on all of them, the two that "most improved" are the stand and the finish.  Based on what I've watched Novice trials online on YouTube, I still think she could qualify on each excercise.  This is amazing to me - the scoring seem to be far higher than it was years ago (15? or so) , the last time I did this, when I was working with Suki. 

Dear, sweet Suki... this is her near the end of her life, at about age 14.   And let's not forget Leika, either, the dog before Suki and my first dog.

Countdown - 5 Days!

Sealy and I have mostly been training outside the past few days,  so there have lots of distractions (for both of us).  Yesterday and again today a cherry tree was in that state I like so much, the  three-in-one state  (simultaneously blossom, flower, and leaf).  

How in the world did I ever go from  having 9 days left to train, to only having 5 days left?   Oh well... I have been doing a little bit each day, not all that much, but a little bit.  Which is a lot more than I was doing before holding myself publicly accountable on this blog (then it was just one day a week in class).

It's  been  interesting to identify the gaps in Sealy's knowledge -  once I take away this cue, or that one, it's been evident that she often really doesn't understand what I'm asking her to do.    Once I teach her - show her, help her - she does gets things, especially when I reinforce it every day a few times a day for several days in a row.   Starting tomorrow I'm going to try and do one run-through each day, so Sealy gets used to concentrating for longer periods, and I get used to the flow of one exercise to the next.  

Countdown - 9 days!

Yesterday was H-O-T (92 degrees) and I didn't work Sealy.  Hell, I could barely work me!   I did, however, realize that the progress Sealy made on the finish the other day wasn't as good as I'd initially thought.  Handler error strikes again - yeah, sure, I faded out my feet, but I was still giving a command and a signal, and I can only use one or the other.  Arrg!  


Early this morning we did some quick sit games on the way to a grassy area near the Hudson River not too far from the apartment.   Her sits were quick and straight (it helped a lot that my left shoulder wasn't all twisted back).    Now to get that into healing patterns as the automatic sit!   You can see from today's photo even after a short walk (before 7am) she was panting a bit.  And today was a lot cooler than yesterday! 


I also realized that I need to work on my footwork more - at the school where I'm working now the instructor encourages the slow-slow-sit approach for automatic sits, and I haven't been consistent in remembering to start this on my left foot.   I've also been sloppy about my left and right turns.  When I do these correctly - surprise, surprise - Sealy does much better.  


For a break I watched some of the Crufts competition videos on YouTube!

Countdown - 11 days!

The good news is that with a modest amount of work last night I managed to fade moving my feet from the "finish" command (at the end of the recall the dog sits - straight! - in front of and facing the handler, and then on finish command moves into heel position, sitting by the handler's left side).  Yay Sealy!    Dogs finish either with "flip" on the left side (moving towards the handlers and then pivoting) or a "swing" (moving forward to the handler's right, and pass behind the handler's back, ending up sitting by the left side.)   I've taught Sealy both ways to finish, but always liked the flip better, so worked last night on fading my feet for that one.  A little bit of work, quite a lot of success!   One goal down, three more to go - now my goals are to work on with Sealy in the next ten days are:

 

1) getting Sealy to have a quicker, straighter automatic sit during the heeling and figure eight exercises (I tend to drop my left shoulder back, and could do a better job easing into the halt with my footwork);

2)  a semblance of a straight front after the recall (as opposed to bouncing off me);  and 

3) getting more distance away from her on the stand.

PS Today marked the usual "boom" of the change of seasons here in New York.  It's hot like summer!  (Although not yet humid, thank goodness.)  Tomorrow is supposed to get up to 89.  Way too hot, way too early to my way of thinking, but then I actually do like snow...

Countdown - 12 days!

Twelve days left before Sealy's first practice match (Novice A).  

(For the people out there who don't know the first thing about dog obedience:  think of this as a sport where the human and canine partners work together as a team.  It's quite wonderful to watch - the dogs obviously enjoy working! In fact the regulations specify that it's essential for the dogs to demonstrate willingness and enjoyment.)

Yesterday I printed out the regulations  (Novice is on p. 43-47) and read them over carefully.  I also wrote up a list of common handler errors I've witnessed in the past - things that I need to remember avoid doing myself!  

Here are the Novice exercises and how's Sealy's doing so far:

Heel on Leash and Figure Eight – these exercises show that the dog has learned to watch its handler and to adjust both its direction and pace (faster or slower) to stay with the handler. Together these are worth 40 points.

Sealy's attention (looking at me) wanders when I'm not talking to her and praising her, but it's probably good enough to qualify.  Her about turns are good, she sometimes lags on the right turn and crowds on the left turn.  She has good changes of pace.  I need to work with her on the automatic sits (and with me to avoid twisting myself around to try and see her!).

Stand for Examination – the dog stays in a standing position off-leash as its handler walks six feet away, and continues to stand without moving as the the judge approaches the dog and  lightly touches the its head, body and hindquarters, and the handler returns to the dog.  This is worth 30 points.

Oh, this is a hard one for wiggly happy Sealy who wants more than anything to jump up and greet people with kisses and licks!  I'm still working with her on-leash for this, and so far have only moved about two feet away, not six.  When the person approaching her makes eye contact she's far likely to move her paws;  with direct no eye contact she's much steadier. 

Heel Free – the dog and handler perform a heeling pattern with the dog off-leash.  This is worth 40 points.

I haven't done this at all with her yet, so far have just placed the leash over my shoulder.  At the match I will ask to do this on-leash since she's not ready yet off-leash. 

Recall – demonstrates that the dog will come to the handler on command.  30 points.

Sealy has a reliable sit, a very fast recall, but no front and is still getting help from me (my feet) for the finish.     

Long Sit - the dog must remain sitting for one minute in the presence of other dogs while the handler stands across the ring.  30 points.

Sealy's very steady on this (I've been working her far longer periods of time.)

Long Down – the dog must remain in a down position for three minutes in the presence of other dogs while the handler stands across the ring.  30 points.

Sealy's very steady on this (I've been working her for far longer periods of time.)

In summary:  we likely could "qualify" (awarded at least half the points) on all the exercises except for Heel Free.   My goals for the match, what I want to work on the most in the next 12 days:  automatic sits, straight(er) front,  getting more distance on the stand, and fading my feet from the finish command.

Now...time to leave the computer and go practice with Sealy!

The Egg

I'm not big on religious holidays of any persuasion, but today is Easter and yesterday while hiking with Sealy I did come across a large egg-shaped boulder...glacial erratic... if it had only been on the equinox!

Speaking of Sealy, maybe I should blog about her?  (More regular postings for sure!).   Here she is on Bluff Point at the northern tip of Connecticut earlier in the week - the photo looks out eastwardly towards the Long Island Sound.  If it had been a clear day supposedly one can see three states (New York, Connecticut, and Rhode Island) but this was right around the rain storm that flooded the area, especially Rhode Island, where  I-95 was closed for 2 1/2 days.  Amtrak trains, too.

Aren't photos of black dogs fascinating?  So much facial expression!   (A good thing she has a red collar and red tongue!)

I've entered her in an obedience match later this month, so perhaps I'll document her progress here (which might spur me to train more regularly than once-a-week-in-class!).  

April marks the first time registered mixed-breed dogs ("Canine Partners") have been allowed to compete at sanctioned AKC Agility, Obedience, and Rally events.

I never, ever, dreamed that the AKC would move in this direction back when I was first introduced to obedience training as a sport twenty (?) years ago, first with Leika and then with Suki (who both mixed-breed dogs) so I was pretty shocked - to say the least - when I heard that the AKC had begun seriously discussing the inclusion of mixed-breed dogs in non-conformation activities.  I was stunned last April when it actually adopted that policy.  I was delighted in January, when the word came down that mixed-breed dogs would be allowed to compete in the same ring as the purebred ones, with the purebred ones, and earn the same titles.  (Originally neither was the case, although it seemed to me to be only a matter of time before those "separate-but-equal" distinctions would have to fall by the wayside.)  Kudos to the AKC!   The January decision is what prompted me to enroll Sealy (AKC #MA00246801).

Pauline Oliveros - William Schuman Award

On Saturday evening Pauline Oliveros was presented with the William Schuman Award at a concert of her works at Columbia University's Miller Theater.   This award honors the lifetime achievement and lasting significance of a contemporary American composer.  I was one of many artists gathered together for a most remarkable evening of compositions spanning 50 years of Pauline's creative work.


A friend of mine who attended the concert - a musician of the very highest calibre - emailed me afterwards that "Last night, I realized the extent to which she made a direct impact on so many people, from musicians to non-musicians, and what an amazing human being she must be."   Pauline recently asked if I would contribute a Midword to her forthcoming book  Sounding the Margins:  Collected Writings 1992-2009.   I'd like to offer that Midword here, too, as a written tribute along side of my aural contributions to the other night. 

Have you ever stopped, mid-word, and then continued on?   Have you ever listened, in seemingly slowed-down time, as each syllable of your voice crumbles into sound, a division continuing without end?  Have you ever found yourself on stage performing and then - suddenly – listened as something totally unexpected sounded forth from your body? Have you ever listened - really listened - and then, mid-word, or mid-phrase, or mid-life, changed directions?

Pauline Oliveros has a knack of being a catalyst to those surrounding her, for changes of every sort;  musical and personal, outward and visible,  inner and transformational.  One of the most revolutionary aspects of her professional life has been to reject the conventional hierarchical role of a composer.  Rather than asking performers to set aside their creativity in service to hers, she invites them to develop their own musical potential.  Rather than asking audiences to be recipients of the creative efforts of others, she invites them to participate in the process.  In Pauline’s music there is an elision between the traditionally authoritarian role of the composer and the resulting subservient roles of the performer and audience.   She offers instead a continuum where performers also compose, audiences also perform, and most importantly of all, everyone listens.   The energy created by this type of intentional listening is palpable, and it is in this listening that the transformational power of Pauline’s compositions becomes most evident.

In “Sounding the Margins”, Pauline Oliveros brings to the foreground the importance of developing the creative potential of all individuals, including those which have been unfortunately – and sometimes deliberately – marginalized.   By consciously moving away from structures of power where the composer’s creativity is the sole one in evidence,  Pauline is able to realize her musical vision while at the same explicitly encouraging and supporting the development of creative potential in others.  As a world-renowned performing composer, she continually provides opportunities for lesser-known artists to join her onstage. 

Unparalleled as a collaborative artist, her generosity of spirit defines her teaching as it does her music and her life. In the most literal sense, what I offer as a Midword will be centrally placed within this volume.  However, what I have received from Pauline - what she has offered me, and the world, though her compositions, performances, teaching, and listening - has been centrally placed in my life.  

It is fitting that Pauline herself have last words of this Midword, words that from my own experience I know can change a thought, a musical phrase, and a life:   “Deep Listening is listening in every possible way to everything possible to hear no matter what you are doing.”

Solstice Sky at Dusk

Hard to believe this is Manhattan, no? I am incredibly lucky to live where I do in upstate Manhattan, where the woods out back and their constant (and constantly changing) beauty buffers city life.

I have been thinking (pondering, mulling over) recently about how difficult it can be to hear hard truths, and then today I stumbled over this quote:

"We need very strong ears to hear ourselves judged frankly, and because there are few who can endure frank criticism without being stung by it, those who venture to criticize us perform a remarkable act of friendship, for to undertake to wound or offend a man for his own good is to have a healthy love for him." Michel Eyquem De Montaigne

Which kind of says it all. (Montaigne was French, from the Renaissance, known for introducing essays as a form of literature. (His Essais were published in 1580, you can read them online.)

August in the Adirondaks

I spent a birthday week in the Adirondaks with Sealy.

I had Sealy as a medical foster puppy last October, and after her lung surgery in January was able to (yippee) adopt her in March.

Here she is, atop of Rattlesnake Knob.

Yay, Sealy!

sigh...

snipped

 “Taking this situation to its logical conclusion, Mrs. Littleton, while in San Antonio, Tex., is a male and has a void marriage; as she travels to Houston, Tex., and enters federal property, she is female and a widow; upon traveling to Kentucky she is female and a widow; but, upon entering Ohio, she is once again male and prohibited from marriage; entering Connecticut, she is again female and may marry; if her travel takes her north to Vermont, she is male and may marry a female; if instead she travels south to New Jersey, she may marry a male.”

Read the whole op-ed:   Is My Marriage Gay? by Jennifer Finney Boylan 

The New York Times

May  11, 2009

Belgrade Lakes, Me.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/12/opinion/12boylan.html?scp=1&sq=transgender%20marriage&st=cse

As many Americans know, last week Gov. John Baldacci of Maine signed a law that made this state the fifth in the nation to legalize gay marriage. It’s worth pointing out, however, that there were some legal same-sex marriages in Maine already, just as there probably are in all 50 states. These are marriages in which at least one member of the couple has changed genders since the wedding.

I’m in such a marriage myself and, quite frankly, my spouse and I forget most of the time that there is anything particularly unique about our family, even if we are — what is the phrase? — “differently married.”

Deirdre Finney and I were wed in 1988 at the National Cathedral in Washington. In 2000, I started the long and complex process of changing from male to female. Deedie stood by me, deciding that her life was better with me than without me. Maybe she was crazy for doing so; lots of people have generously offered her this unsolicited opinion over the years. But what she would tell you, were you to ask, is that the things that she loved in me have mostly remained the same, and that our marriage, in the end, is about a lot more than what genders we are, or were.

Deirdre is far from the only spouse to find herself in this situation; each week we hear from wives and husbands going through similar experiences together. Reliable statistics on transgendered people always prove elusive, but just judging from my e-mail, it seems as if there are a whole lot more transsexuals — and people who love them — in New England than say, Republicans. Or Yankees fans.

I’ve been legally female since 2002, although the definition of what makes someone “legally” male or female is part of what makes this issue so unwieldy. How do we define legal gender? By chromosomes? By genitalia? By spirit? By whether one asks directions when lost?

We accept as a basic truth the idea that everyone has the right to marry somebody. Just as fundamental is the belief that no couple should be divorced against their will.

For our part, Deirdre and I remain legally married, even though we’re both legally female. If we had divorced last month, before Governor Baldacci’s signature, I would have been allowed on the following day to marry a man only. There are states, however, that do not recognize sex changes. If I were to attempt to remarry in Ohio, for instance, I would be allowed to wed a woman only.

Gender involves a lot of gray area. And efforts to legislate a binary truth upon the wide spectrum of gender have proven only how elusive sexual identity can be. The case of J’noel Gardiner, in Kansas, provides a telling example. Ms. Gardiner, a postoperative transsexual woman, married her husband, Marshall Gardiner, in 1998. When he died in 1999, she was denied her half of his $2.5 million estate by the Kansas Supreme Court on the ground that her marriage was invalid. Thus in Kansas, any transgendered person who is anatomically female is now allowed to marry only another woman.

Similar rulings have left couples in similar situations in Florida, Ohio and Texas. A 1999 ruling in San Antonio, in Littleton v. Prange, determined that marriage could be only between people with different chromosomes. The result, of course, was that lesbian couples in that jurisdiction were then allowed to wed as long as one member of the couple had a Y chromosome, which is the case with both transgendered male-to-females and people born with conditions like androgen insensitivity syndrome. This ruling made Texas, paradoxically, one of the first states in which gay marriage was legal.

A lawyer for the transgendered plaintiff in the Littleton case noted the absurdity of the country’s gender laws as they pertain to marriage: “Taking this situation to its logical conclusion, Mrs. Littleton, while in San Antonio, Tex., is a male and has a void marriage; as she travels to Houston, Tex., and enters federal property, she is female and a widow; upon traveling to Kentucky she is female and a widow; but, upon entering Ohio, she is once again male and prohibited from marriage; entering Connecticut, she is again female and may marry; if her travel takes her north to Vermont, she is male and may marry a female; if instead she travels south to New Jersey, she may marry a male.”

Legal scholars can (and have) devoted themselves to the ultimately frustrating task of defining “male” and “female” as entities fixed and unmoving. A better use of their time, however, might be to focus on accepting the elusiveness of gender — and to celebrate it. Whether a marriage like mine is a same-sex marriage or some other kind is hardly the point. What matters is that my spouse and I love each other, and that our legal union has been a good thing — for us, for our children and for our community.

It’s my hope that people who are reluctant to embrace same-sex marriage will see that it has been with us, albeit in this one unusual circumstance, for years. Can we have a future in which we are more concerned with the love a family has than with the sometimes unanswerable questions of gender and identity? As of last week, it no longer seems so unthinkable. As we say in Maine, you can get there from here.

Jennifer Finney Boylan is a professor of English at Colby College and the author of the memoir “I’m Looking Through You: Growing Up Haunted.”

Postcards from the Mall

Some casual recollections from Inauguration Day...(illustrated with cell phone photos) got picked up and are now online at Women for Parity

- why not here, too?

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Barack Obama was not my first - or even second - choice for president in the primaries. To say it was cold on Inauguration Day was an understatement. I don't care for crowds in the slightest. So why did I go down to Washington, DC from New York City for the inauguration? I suppose I wanted to "be in that number" for this historic moment in American history, to experience this event for myself. What follows are a few "postcards" of my observations and impressions of the day.

In the shower that morning I found myself singing "Oh Happy Day" - a song I didn't even know I knew! - although the spiritual was combined somehow with "Day by Day" from "Jesus Christ Superstar." (I'm not very good at remembering lyrics so my version went something like "When Jesus da-dum...(day by day)..."

After dressing in many layers (three on the bottom, four on top, plus a coat, neck gaiter, gloves (with glove liners), three pairs of socks, scarf, headband, and a hat), I set out on my folding bicycle at a little before 7am. With tiny 16" wheels - regular bike wheels are 26" - with me on top instead of a six year old it looks more like a clown bike than an adult's mode of transportation. I rode up the east side of the Potomac River on the Mt. Vernon bike trail, taking a leisurely 45 minutes to ride the eight miles from where I started in Alexandria, VA to a free bike valet just south of the Jefferson Memorial. At first along the way there was hardly anyone on the path, but as I got closer there were a number of other bicyclists, and in the last mile or so, pedestrians.

I was the 205th person to enter the bike valet (827 total at that location, another 1127 at the bike valet by the White House) and after handing over the bike and helmet I walked around the west side of the tidal basin through the FDR Memorial to Mall and onto the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. There was no security at all. People were literally dancing as they arrived, as a repeat of Sunday's "We Are One" concert was being played over the PA system. (I entered to "Bye Bye American Pie" and "Shout!") The energy was joyous and jubilant with smiles everywhere from everyone to everybody.

While the Lincoln Memorial offered some protection from the wind, a high vista, and excellent sound (along with the ghosts of Marian Anderson and Dr. King), there wasn't a Jumbotron in sight, and it was as far on the Mall from the capitol (1.9 miles) as one can get. So even though I'd grabbed one of the last seats there (this was shortly after 8am), after some time I decided to move up closer in order to be able to see the day's events on a screen. But first I visited the interior of the Lincoln Memorial, reading his words and thinking about the president who ended his second inaugurational address 144 years ago "... to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations." A vision we are still seeking. The ceremonies proper began while I was inside the Memorial, at about 9:30am, starting off with a children's chorus from my old hometown of San Francisco.

I wandered up towards the Washington Monument, but the crowds were too thick between the WWII Memorial and the Monument to get through. The Monument sits on a bit of elevated ground; in order to have a view of the Capitol (and a very distant one at that, it's 0.9 miles away) one has to be on the east side of the Monument. So I headed back west. It turned out that the only Jumbotron behind the WWII Memorial - on either side of the reflecting pool behind the Monument - was about 2/3 of the way back, on the south side of the mall just a bit east of the Korean War Memorial. I staked out a spot there. (One thing to remember is that almost all the television shots of the crowd showed just the area from the Capitol to the Washington Monument. A huge expanse, to be sure, but the Mall extends almost that same distance BEHIND the Monument, and that area was packed, too. Not as tightly, but still...)

The crowd responded to the announcements of arrivals with cheer, boos, and wild applause, depending on the person. The most popular by far were the Obama's (shots of Michelle Obama received rock star screams), the least favorite was Dick Cheny, who was greeted by boos and hisses.

People shared stories throughout the day, initiating conversations with strangers which usually began by asking where folks had come from and if they'd ever been to Washington, DC before. The area I ended up standing in had a wide range of ages - perhaps because there was no security at the very far end of the mall, people were able to bring their babies in strollers and elders could enter with walkers and in wheelchairs. There was a mix of race, as well, with perhaps one-third of the people black, heavy on young families and older women, women who had been teenagers and young women during the civil rights struggle. One woman I talked to - with five of her grown grandchildren with her - told me that she'd been on the Mall in just about the same place as she was now for Dr. King's "I Have a Dream Speech." I had just turned three then, she was twenty-five. She told me that while she'd raised her children, and then later her grandchildren, to believe in that dream of Dr. King, she never, ever, thought inside herself it could begin to come true in her lifetime.

Eventually the more formal part of the ceremony began. Everyone laughed when the MC asked the crowd to "please rise" because all of us had been standing for many hours by then - and would continue to stand!

Through the welcome and the invocation (no one near me booed Rev. Warren) people were silent. They loved Aretha Franklin's singing (and that hat!). Many cheers went up after Joe Biden was sworn in by Justice Stevens. John Williams' chamber quartet music provided an opportunity for contemplative reflection of what was about to come next. Wild, wild, cheers erupted at the introduction of Barack Obama. Utter stillness followed...with tears rolling down face after face, including my own, as Barack Obama took the oath of office. Then...pandemonium! Nothing was audible aside from cheering for close to two minutes. Truly a joyful noise! (I confess that during this time I was looking up the text of Article 2, Section 1 the Constitution of the United States, being quite sure that "so help you God" was not part of the presidential oath of office. Indeed it wasn't. Shame on Chief Justice Roberts! I can understand - perhaps - mixing up word order, but adding in THAT?)

People listened closely to the inaugural address - a fellow near me said afterwards that this is what he'd wanted to hear on Sep. 12th, 2001 - and started departing immediately at it's conclusion. By the time the poem was over, the crowd near me had thinned out a good deal, and there was finally room to move around again.

My throat tightened at the timbre of Rev. Lowry's opening words - such a tired voice, sounding every one of it's 89 years, telling of weary years and silent tears, words I know from "Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing" but which he knew from his life. Non-religious, non-beliver me was surprised as not just one, or even two, but three "amens" leapt out of my mouth at the end of his benediction.

At the end of the ceremony everyone left in my area sang our national anthem. Quite loudly. (Two things I've found rare in America, from Americans.) There is a power in communal singing intensely strong, and bonding, something that has the ability to define and build community.

I was tremendously moved by how far as a nation we have come, humbled and sobered by how high the cost has been, and how long it has taken us to get to this day.

Yes, it was freezing cold, and no, I couldn't see anything in person (except the helicopter flying Mr. Bush away afterwards).

Yet I wouldn't have missed being there in person for the world.

(PS By the following afternoon I had warmed up again.)

February Moon...

No, I didn't take this photo - whoever did likely used a telescope - but it's what I saw with my own eyes - an orange marble of a moon, with Saturn to the left and the blue star Regulus to the right. What a sight... And if people like me can see this from NYC, think of what all those people in darker places must have seen! I stayed out watching from when I got home until I began to turn into a popsicle, then went inside.

Birthday Backpacking

Today is my birthday, and as I usually do I celebrated it by going out into the woods...and such presents! I am lucky. Finally I heard loons...saw beavers, up close (it slapped its tail! twice!) and from afar (they are much larger than I expected, one was the size of a small seal, it seemed). Also a kind of hawk with spotted wings. The photo above was sunrise from one end of the lake...and below, mid-afternoon, is the view from the other end (from the tent door). And yes, the storm did come.



When in camp (and not swiming) I spent most of my time in a hammock, not doing much of anything except watch the light change and the moon rise.



August 26, 1920 was the ratifaction of the Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution, which granted women in the United States the right to vote. I often think about the time it takes for change, and how many people's efforts are required, most of whom go unnamed and unnoticed in history. So today I think of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott at the Seneca Falls convention in 1847...and Susan B. Anthony arrested in 1872, 25 years later, for trying to vote...the ERA, which was proposed in 1923, 84 years ago and still not yet ratified. Martha Coffin Pelham Wright (Lucretia's younger sister). Ernestine Rose. Paulina Kellogg Wright Davis. The names scroll on and on, and for every one that history remembers, countless others toiled as well.

Summer Solistice

Well...pretty close...this was a few days later, June 24th, at Sunset Beach in San Francisco (between Judah and Taraval). I grew up in California (southern), near the coast. Nothing between me and the curve of the earth's horizon, nothing between me and the sky above, being surrounded by limitless possibilities - this is a good place for me to be.

Summer Is Icumen In

I have been stopping off here on the bike ride home from teaching to (gasp) take a bit of time for myself. I lie on the earth, soaking up its energies. Sometimes I gaze up at the sky, daydreaming. Often I listen to the bird concerts. Lately I have been sneezing non-stop. I wonder what it would have been like to look at this same view, up the Hudson River from the northern tip of Manhattan a hundred years ago...two hundred...five hundred...several thousand. Time is relative. Change is fast and slow, both at the same time. Internally and outwardly.

Swimming in Austin

(really from November...)
Long ago, on my first trip to Austin (on tour with Cabaret starring Joel Grey, but that's another story altogether) I happened upon Barton Springs. What an osais! Barton Springs is a natural spring, man-made into a very large (1,000 foot) outdoor swimming area. The water there is cold (68-70 degrees). And healing.