The first time I saw myself was in a fun house mirror

An oligarchy of nerves for a purse

Extra baggage, valise, a lava lamp of dichotomy.

My palm on the glass, staggering

Staggering between loathing

And the leniency of a lover.

Because to be seen, really seen in a wholly meaningful way to reaffirm my existence in this terrifying paradigm.

And as my reflection echoes off the walls

Into the mouths of strange appraisers

Tasting my aches and pains as gorgeous flavours

They plug the holes in my soul where my fingers don’t go

But this is not me.

This is dysmorphic me,

Bathed in bokeh lights, people joking as they usher by me,

Provoking me, invoking me

To crush the glass portraying me

IS THIS YOUR VERSION OF REVERING ME?

Because you’re still using a kaleidoscope as a monocle,

And I become the distorted reality of a dream.

Fog on the glass, blurred is the scene

Oh to be seen, seen, really seen in a wholly meaningful way

that reaffirms my existence in this terrifying paradigm…that is solidarity

It is within the conditions of presently inauthentic fictional media portrayals of Transgender People that the poem, “Stop Breathing Fog on the Glass: a plea for visibility” was constructed. It begins with the speaker at a carnival, gazing at their reflection in the funhouse mirror, a metaphor for seeing a non-cisgender character in media for the first time, with whom they quickly identified with. The setting suggests how Transgender characters are used as entertainment; however, their images are often deeply distorted. Lines 2 and 3 describe the extra burden of anxiety on these communities, who cannot view medias neutrally due to their ability to entrench violence and self-deprecation against them. The image of a “lava lamp of dichotomy” alludes to how non-cisgender characters are in constant mutation. Like the bubbles in a lamp, they may be small as victims, or loom large as villains. The speaker then goes on to recount the internal struggle of supporting Transgender characters unconditionally, or rejecting them for misrepresentation. 

They are experiencing such cognitive dissonance because to be represented in media validates one’s existence in real life, which they voice in lines 7-8. The speaker then describes how the Transgender and genderqueer body becomes consumed by cisgender audience or “stranger appraisers.” The use of the word appraisers alludes to how they may judge a Transgender character’s worth and apply their schema onto individuals in real life, assigning a lesser value onto them than cisgender people. The use of the word “strange,” simultaneously subverts the positing of cisgender identity as the norm, with all others being deviates. The description of consumption references their eagerness to digest Transgender pain and hardship which seems to never satiate. Despite all this though, the second stanza ends with a confession from the speaker: even misrepresentations provide some comfort, and legitimize their identity in ways they were unable to reconcile with before.

In the third and fourth stanzas however, the speaker reprimands writers for their problematic characterization. Justifiably irate, they vocalize that those characters are not an adequate representation of them. They wish to destroy medias with these inaccurate portrayals, and the poem reaches its climax with “IS THIS YOUR VERSION OF REVERING ME?” with the speaker asking the writers if these misrepresentations are supposed to be their way of supporting them. Anguished, they go on to describe how medias with Transgender characters are intrinsically tied to them, as the act of normalizing violence against them can culminate into their actual real-life demise. Lines 23-24 call out cisgender performative grief in response to such violence, and the hypocrisy of their mourning when they helped further Transgender pain.

The final stanza describes the current state of affairs. Cisgender writers and audiences continue to view distorted representations, as if “using a kaleidoscope as a monocle.” As monocles are an indicator of wealth, the word was specifically used here to represent cisgender privilege. The poem closes with a final assertion: only through genuine representations of Transgender and genderqueer individuals can true solidarity be achieved.

By: ZHAO

Image: From "Everyone gets a piece of pride"
Creative Director: Rida Chaudhry
Photographer: Taryn Resende
MUA: Rida Chaudhry
Models:
Iffy
Marcus Zain
Sophia Cecucci