Jamie Windust - In Their Shoes

IN
THEIR
SHOES

Navigating
Non-Binary Life

Jamie Windust

I literally tried being in someone elses shoes once and it wasnt the most comfortable experience. Probably because it meant that I had to wear flat shoes for more than ten minutes, which is never a nice feeling. Too close to the ground. Too real. Every step you take is too close to the earth that supports us. Too close to the very thing that holds us steady, but also the thing that has the ability to collapse beneath us at any given moment, allowing us to fall to the centre. Allowing us to empathize with similar feelings. That feeling of absorbing someone elses time. The shape that they have carved out for themselves, with you sliding on top, not necessarily fitting exactly, but being able to feel that time has passed there. That memories, birthdays, deaths, happiness, terror have all happened for this person, in their shoes. But now youre wearing those shoes. Youre in control of them, seeing the world from a fresh perspective. A perspective you might not know, and a perspective you might not like. But youre seeing it, and thats whats important.

I often think that we are in an empathy drought right now. In this current climate we are in, with the world and its news whirling past us constantly, world-wide global crises feel like theyre happening just in the palm of our hands, but are in fact real, tangible, life-threatening moments that are happening somewhere on our planet. Once the next one comes through, beeping at us in the middle of the night, or catching our eye on the news screens when we are waiting at the train station, we forget what we were just feeling. We are the prizes in the claw-crane games at the arcade, swiftly being picked up from above and moved to another spot to witness a new piece of information that requires our full attention and our care, swiftly forgetting where we just were and acclimatizing to our new surroundings.

Trans people are often forgotten about for this very reason. I think, realistically, people prioritize problems that are happening to them, and subsequently prioritize other issues based on their proximity to them. People are often blinded by their own privilege, and scope the paper every morning on the way to work, or scroll through Twitter whilst having a cigarette, and gravitate towards the issues that they think could impact them or someone in their immediate circle most quickly. Often, when you are part of a marginalized community, this isnt a bad thing. As trans people, we are often constantly looking out for trans and non-binary people because we are nestled so tightly within our community, and our newsfeeds become flooded with transness all of the time, allowing us to feel integrated, aware, and part of our communitys struggles and burdens but also our joy and our success.

But when decisions are being made by the most privileged white cis men looking at their newsfeeds and deciding what to care about, the self-serving nature of their care and their empathy often just fuels their own privilege in a way that doesnt leave any more drops of empathy for other people. All of their care and energy goes into their own kind, but unlike when that happens with the trans community, their power and dominance has structural impact, often wider than they even realize. As their privilege and strength continues, it ripples outward, crashing over marginalized groups, drowning them in waves of gender pay gaps, manspreading, turned down jobs and catcalling.

The nuance of identity is something that I want you to remember. Something that is often lost when we see headlines about huge groups of people. Something that is so integral to us as a community that its importance is so much greater than we all even know. Identity is so talented and clever. Its something that can equally bring a community together, allowing us to all feel a part of the same group, whilst also individually giving each person their own different coloured light. It allows us to glow, and brighten the world, whilst ensuring that each of us shines in our own unique way. Kind of like when I went to see One Direction at The O2. A mass of people, all carrying a light, but this time, each light is their own.

Trans and non-binary people are often told that their lived experiences are this or that. Black or white. Male or female. Theres no nuance in media depictions of our community. Often non-binary people like myself are lost within the discussion. Its either trans women or trans men. No room at the inn for non-binary people. The same thing often happens when we discuss LGBTQ+ rights. Often we hear some of the worlds most prominent speakers discussing LGBTQ+ rights, and find ourselves waiting for our identities to be recognized. Its almost like queer bingo, or like waiting for at least one woman to be read out in the list of nominees for Best Director at the Oscars.

Two men, or two women, should be able to walk down the road and be able to hold each others hands without prejudice. Its 2020; we should be able to do that, people say.

Of course, this should be true. Theres power in being unapologetically queer, especially when thats being shared with someone else whom you love. But I cant help but wonder if (I cant promise that thats the only Carrie Bradshaw wonder you will get in this book), and often feel that, there are issues that carry more urgency to them.

Honestly, I always have a twinge of guilt when I feel that, because what I want to actually say is: Hello, yes, I do understand this is not okay, and obviously something that we should all be able to do, but what about the fact that some people in this country literally dont think trans people should be able to exist, work, live, be educated or just like literally do anything because theyre trans? What about the people across the world that are being murdered because theyre trans? What about the fact that right now, trans suicide is on the rise, and nearly half of all trans people have attempted suicide?

But I dont. I sit back at the Pride event that Im at, and I swig my wine, pop outside for a cigarette, and then put it on my close friends Instagram story.

Ive got to a point now where I am tired. Twenty-two and tired. (Thats what the next books called.) Non-binary people are truly some of the most beautiful, cherished and delightful people that I have ever met. Theyre also some of the most boring; but thats fine, not everyone is perfect. We are some of the most intelligent yet frustratingly resilient people out there, and the magnitude of our minds both pains me and fills me with awe. For centuries we have existed, constantly knowing our truth and our validity. Knowing that we are wonderful. Knowing that although the world cant seem to place us anywhere, we have found our home and our space within each other. But often we are torn down so quickly that that joy is forgotten. Even though we know how special and how valid we are, the powers that be claw at our very being, making us feel like we are constantly being stripped of our essence. Stripped, and put back together in an easily digestible manner. Put back together so that we feel like we fit, even when we dont.

The landscape is torn. Its broken. Actually no, its not broken, because the protections and provisions we need never existed to be broken. Non-binary and gender non-conforming identities have been continually erased from legislation, governmental forms and data-finding resources, and the fight for our identities to even be seen, let alone for institutions to change so theyre accessible, is something we are within right now. In 2019 I campaigned for X passports in the UK, along with life-long campaigner Christie Elan-Cane, and now the fight continues with campaigners aiming to allow people outside of the binary to be able to identify as such on the 2021 census a fact-finding and data-driven resource sent to every single person in the UK to find out more about how our own Government can do better. The current socio-political climate, exacerbated by the medias addiction to falsifying our existence, has meant that being trans/non-binary/gender non-conforming in the twenty-first century feels like constantly trying to prove your existence, despite our rich history that shows weve been here forever. The changes we are asking to be implemented arent born out of newness, but from tiredness. Theyre long overdue. It leaves us feeling like we cant be placed anywhere, hence why our inter-community strength is so powerful and important to us. When we have to venture into the world, where we arent heard, or listened to, it can feel like we are shouting against the wind. But if we all shout together, hopefully we will be heard. Hopefully, things will change.