Tag Archives: gender

The Threat by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (9/1/15)

I remember the days when it wasn’t real.
I remember the days when I didn’t think
it was Real;
That I could walk down streets and
pretend I was safe.
Even though I definitely could have been safe.
Safety wasn’t second guessed.
I could walk freely and rest.
I could laugh at the carefree nature of the world.
It didn’t matter that I am boy
and the world saw me as a girl.
Only thing mattered was the laughter
curling into my cheeks,
the light in my eyes
Unphased by truths I never personally seen.
But that time was when I was a baby.
Soon as my brain grew conscious,
Everything Changed.
I don’t walk down streets the same,
Afraid of being
Molested,
Even though boys didn’t get it “as bad.”
But I was a girl in the eyes
of men more knowing than me.
Momma taught me, “Can’t Trust men
They’ll take advantage of [me].”
So I grew up not knowing how to trust men.
One day not knowing how to trust me.
Body
Mind
Spirit
Compromised in My Dreams;
Manipulated
By a perspective on repeat.
And now where does that leave me?
Where does it leave the women
I’ve known and seen
Violated under all means?
Where does leave the boy who’s
told he has a girl’s body?
How do I learn to trust masculinity
When its always been shaped as a threat to me?
The playdo’s harden over years
charred under the degrees of inferno
and nobody even knows.
Shit, I didn’t even know
till realizations hit me that even
him trying to build intimacy is
Triggering.
Can’t trust the man laying next to me.
Haven’t trusted the man standing next to me.
What is trust for the man trying to support me?
What does it mean to trust any man?
I mean
My Body; raped
My Mind; fucked
My Heart; touched inappropriately
I sit here replaying the history
Frightened of
how it’s all Engrained so Deep.
Where at the core,
I’m having trouble trusting any man;
Even Me.

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Ameen (Poetry Performance)

On Sunday April 19, 2015, I had the honor to perform “Ameen” at the Queer Monologues at the University of Maryland, College Park (my soon to be all ma mater).

This is one of my few poems I have had the opportunity to capture on camera. Finally a poem of me performing (and of course it had to be on the hardest poem I’ve performed ever).

I hope you enjoy 💚💜

Peace and Empower,
Myke

________________

“Ameen” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (4/19/15)

I hold my stomach
And squeem
thinking of things
I’ve only dreamed
Her name is Ameen
Not quite real
But she could be
You could be
as you’re growing
In every crevice of my mind
like galaxies in formation
Iron blood pumping
through empty spaces
Stars aligning in rotation
As the thought loops
Like protons
around helium
building energy so
fast you’ll explode in my heart
With the passion of a thousand suns
And I know that’s cliché
Like the words that usually cling
Tightly in between the lines of my poetry
And I don’t mean you’re not unique
But rather you
Come to my mind so quickly
Like I’ve dreamed you before
Every night
When I was 18,
I dated a woman.
She was a lesbian
who wouldn’t have been
your mother
because she didn’t want
a daughter
in fear that she would be
her mother.
Found that out the hard way
when I woke up one day
and told her
“I just had a dream
about our daughter.
I called out Ameen
and she came to me.
Isn’t that exciting?”
She had nothing to say
and maybe it was
meant that way.
For My Dream
didn’t include two women
There was
You and Me.
Both of us enigmas
In a future
I want to Be
with You
Ameen
Ameen
Giggling Baby Girl
Bouncing into my arms
Squealing
Daddy
Daddy
I love you Daddy
I love you…
Probably the same way I used to
when I was
Baby Girl
In the arms of My Father
Baby Girl
Grown into Daddy.
I’m not afraid to be My Father
so You’ll have Me
And for now I’ll have you
In moments
when boyfriend
Rubs my stomach
Thinking.
Subconsciously.
I ask him,
Do you want children?
“Yea,
I want two
so the first one won’t be lonely.”
Right there,
I knew the first one would
Be You
and the four of us
could be a family.
Not the same dream
but still those thoughts fill me.
And I start wondering
about Pregnancy
forming in Body
Reconstructing Man
in midst of Invisibility.
Those lines in between my poetry
I may not want anyone to read
But wanting to read her genealogy
And See Me
In the XX chromosomes
marking the spot
where two souls
came together
and made
A Baby
inside me
But I don’t want a baby inside me
Fear passed over ovaries
Semen too deep
In panic I drown in ocean
Rescue me
Rescue me
Ameen
I want to be your Daddy
I want you to carry a piece of me
But I’m not willing to carry
And that pains me
At night
When he and I lay in sheets
rustled before bed
“We should use a condom”
He nods.
Agrees.
We grab one.
Proceed.
I smirk.
Mixed Feelings.
Wary of raw emotion
coursing through me
Yet,
Honestly,
I want to say
Fuck It!
I want to be a Daddy
Ameen
Your baby feet kicking
Pitter patter
on oak floors
Brown like Skin
if you were mine
from the beginning
You’d be
Dancing
With Daddy and
Singing
With Daddy and
Laughing
At Daddy
Being Silly
with His Baby Girl
His Baby Girl
My Baby Girl
But Ameen I don’t want to carry
I Just Want You

The Art of Getting By by Quinn Kelley (4/4/14)

Thank you Quinn Kelley for yesterday’s Diamondback article “The Art of Getting By”! I feel like she did an overall amazing job with the article, should definitely take a look:

The Art of Getting By by Quinn Kelley (4/4/14)

I think it is so paramount to continue to have these conversations about the lives of Transgender people. In a realm we’re here to learn about difference people’s lived experiences as well as our own, I am glad that there are people such as her who truly do life up the voices of those who sometimes struggle to be heard. I am so humbled and honored to be a part of this story and that my voice was one of the voices to be lifted up ❤ I am also SO HAPPY that Luke Jensen, Nick Sakurai, Erin Iverson, Penny Jacobs and so many other pivital people had their voices heard for they have been astounding in the process of making this campus more accepting and more safe for ALL students regardless of gender (and sexual orientation). I have no doubt that we will all continue to progress and move forward and build up this community!

(P.S. – Maryland Protections for Transgender and Gender Non-Conforming Folk! Woooot Wooooot!!! :D)

If You were Afraid to Ask (poetry)

“If You were Afraid to Ask” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (4/5/14)

Open like a surgery
but not on my body.
It’s a mental opening
to where I allow others to
Dissect my Thoughts.
My Experiences.
So that others can learn
some of what it’s like to be
Trans.
Transgender.
Breaking the Boundaries
of what it means to be
“Him” or “Her.”
Providing a space where
that’s not all it has to be
but rather you can
Dance Along the Spectrum
And Be Free.
A Spectrum of Energy
that is (Trans)formed
throughout a Narrative of Being.
I am an Open Book.
So take what you need,
just Use what you get Wisely.
Use what you get from Me
Gently,
Not to Damage the pages
or The Story.
Spread Widely
A Truth
whether it be Mine or Someone Else’s.
Do so in a way that Uplifts
those who can Speak
to their Lives Fully.
Who have a Voice
that can proclaim,
“I am Trans and this is My Name.
And this is My Truth.
And I won’t let Shame
stop me from Living.
It’s Not a Game.
This is My Life.”
And for me,
If I went back in time
I’d Live it all the Same.
So where you find
My Story
is where it’s supposed to be.
Open,
Alive,
Free.
Showing Others
a glimpse into the window of one
Trans Experience.
Showing Others what it’s like to
Be Me.

Touch Me Like I’m Real (poetry)

“Touch Me Like I’m Real” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin 4/3/14

I stood in the mirror and looked at myself
Uncensored
by clothing or objects or black bars
telling me what parts of me
Cannot be Seen.
I felt my heartbeat faster
as I resisted the urge to
Close My Eyes
or fold my arms and Walk Away
Completely.
I stood there and stared
at the Shame forming in my Chest
and watched it seep through my Skin
as I bit my lip nervously.
What was I gonna to do with this?
Scars on my shoulders
from picking at Stress.
Scars on my chest
from picking at Expectation.
Scars
that I created.
What was I gonna do with this?
My hands shook as I
tried to move them slowly,
not trying to be
Procedural.
I Wasn’t
going through an airport
so I didn’t need to be patted down
Quickly
by a Male Body
who was nervous of
Feeling
Something Foreign he didn’t
Feel “Matched.”
I tried to move Down
but Fear pulled my hands away.
I stood
arrested, my fingers cuffing
each other behind me head –
“You have a Right to Remain…
Afraid.”
Afraid to let myself
Acknowledge,
Experience,
Feel
that I was Born in a Real Body.
That this
is Mine.
That this
is MINE.
THIS is MINE!
I stood in the mirror and looked at myself.
What am I gonna do with this?
My.
Body.
He answered,
“Stop being Afraid to
Touch Me Like I’m Real
because I Am”

Silent Sirens (poetry)

“Silent Sirens” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (4/1/14)

All of ya’ll are Sons of Bitches!
Or is it that y’all are Sons of Snitches
who didn’t know that Snitches get Stitches?
Shoot out in the Graveyard…
Come here to Die because we didn’t want to know what the Truth is.
And What is the Truth?
That we Don’t Trust the Law
and we fight amongst ourselves Raw
wit guns and knives in our pockets.
“Yo check this! Watch this!
I’m bout to take this Nigga out
Real Quick.”
And we all Stay Silent
like a tombstones of the Short Lived.
And they all Stay Silent
like Blue and Red lights with No Sirens.
Is that why we Don’t Smile and shit?
Busy concentrating on how to Keep Niggas Quiet.
Well we got Jail or the Morgue.
Or is that just what we keep hearing about the heights we can Soar?
I know I’d like to hear more
about how when I walk out the house
Not Only The Gavel or the Ground is on the other side of that door.
Would we Know what it sounds like to have Choices
that Didn’t lead to the Incarceration or Execution of our Voices?
Also Speak of Us
who are still Alive and Free
trying to Extend our Life Expectancy.
Maybe the Sound may be Refreshing.
Stop planting Tombstones.
Turn on the Sirens.
Save Us and Save Each Other
Who are Striving to Break the Silence.

Privilege (2/10/14)

I wonder how often those with privilege talk about (their) privilege. Probably not nearly enough as they should.

I don’t have many conversations about being a college student yet here I am, in college, with the privilege of being able to get a higher education. No one sits around and reminds me of my privilege every time I’m in a classroom. I think I’ve heard a statistic or a statement along the lines of “you are privileged to be in the seat you’re in” exactly 3 times in the course of 4 years. How come that is?

Yet, when I go to a meeting or a discussion or a presentation discussing underprivileged and underrepresented identities, privilege ALWAYS comes up. As a Black person I know about and can, in detail, explain white privilege to anyone who asks. As a Queer person I know about and can, in detail, explain heterosexual privilege to anyone who asks. As a person of Transgender Experience I know about and can, in detail, explain cisgender privilege to anyone who asks. Also as a Man of Transgender Experience who has had past experience being socially perceived and treated as a woman, I know about and can explain, in detail, male privilege to anyone who asks.

However, I honestly can say that there are NOT a large amount of people with privilege who can articulate what their privilege is to them or in a social context. Of course one can Google “Privilege” and get “a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people” from Merriam Webster (as I conveniently just did since as a college student I have the access to the internet and a device to access that internet) yet there is a need to be an actual understanding  in the mind of a privileged person of what it is and what it means to have privilege. There is a luxury in being able to take for granted the social and systematic benefits one gets from their privilege. What is that about?

I remember praising the phrase “No Education, No Life.” No T, No Shade to the Baltimore Algebra Project and their work for that work is important for in-school child development, self esteem and academic success. But it took me a minute to really think about what the message “No Education, No Life” displays for our youth and anyone else who is not in a privileged position to get a formal education. Who says that those migrant workers who couldn’t afford to go to school don’t have a life? Who says those low income graduating seniors who couldn’t afford to go to college don’t have a life?

It’s a privilege to be able to project your story as a world wide narrative. It’s a privilege to be able to say “I did this, why can’t you?” It’s a privilege to be a college student disdaining those without a formal education.

Uncle Ben in Spiderman was right in saying, “With Great Power comes Great Responsibility.” So I raise the challenge to all of us with privilege, in which we all have some form of privilege, to actually become aware of those advantages and benefits obtained through our privilege held. Do not leave it up to those who are underprivileged and oppressed to teach you about privilege (even though most of the underprivileged and oppressed know ALL about privilege). Learn more about your privilege and use that privilege to help do something for someone who isn’t as privileged as you are.

Obviously, in light of Black History Month, I challenge white folk to acknowledge your privilege as a white person. I challenge you to take the time, and continue to take the time if you already have started this process, of noticing what white privilege brings you. And not just for this month, I challenge you to do this constantly and consistently. Please don’t beat yourself up over white privilege. White guilt is valid in feeling but not valid in practice. To blame yourself for having white privilege is NOT actually helping to solve your strife or the strife of people of color. Instead, reflect and really see what white privilege is about and do something about the negative repercussions it has on yourself as a white person developmentally and others as people of color socially/systematically.

I will be doing the same for those privileges I have, ie. my college education and the fact that education means a lot to me. What can I do as an educated person to actually help ensure that everyone has the opportunity to an education if they so choose (and if my work is successful they will be able to choose) to take the opportunity? Many questions, many answers.

Time to get to work.

With Love & Affirmation,
Myke

A Color and A Queerness (Collective Monologue)

If I could perform one collective monologue (different people speaking different lines which I don’t know the name of but) it’d go like this. ***inspired by For Colored Folks***

“A Color and A Queerness” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (2/2/14)

(Person #1) Separated but Unified.
(Person #2) Separated but Unified.
(Person #3) Separated but Unified.
(Person #4) Separated but Unified.
(Person #1) Separated but…
(Person #2) Uno.
(Person #3) One.
(Person #4) Singular.
(Person #1) Solitary.
Solitary Confinement.
Isolated from the world for being anything more than the same.
Everyone is normal but me.
Everyone is normal but ME.
(Person #2) But me.
(Person #3) But me.
(Person #4) But me.
(Unison) But ME.
(Person #1) But I don’t know what to do about it.
I don’t know what to do about my
(Person #2) Slated
(Person #3) Undercover
(Person #4) Misunderstood
(Person #1) Invalidated
(Unison) Queerness.
I am
(Person #2) Lesbian
(Person #3) Gay
(Person #4) Bisexual
(Person #1) Transgender
Different from the rest of the world.
Different from my brother’s and sisters who’s skin kissed the Sun and came out coco and smooth.
(Unison) Different.
(Person #1) But not in a way where people are lining up to kiss my uniqueness
But to burn it out of my
Black
(Person #2) Brown
(Person #3) Yellow
(Person #4) Red
(Person #1) Skin filled wit pigmentation and alloe oil.
It’s already enough to be
a different color
I can’t be a different anything else.
I can’t be Colored and Queer.
(Person #2) Colored and Queer.
(Person#3) Colored and Queer.
(Person #4) Colored and Queer.
(Unison) Colored and Queer.
We are
(Person #1) Separated but Unified.
(Person #2) Separated but Unified.
(Person #3) Separated but Unified.
(Person #4) Separated but Unified.
(Unison) A Color and A Queerness.