Saturday, November 3, 2012

An Open Letter to Misha Collins, or, I'm Not Mad, Just Disappointed.

Dear Mr. Collins,

 I have literally zero illusions that this letter will ever make its way to you, and maybe that’s fine. Maybe this is just an exercise in me doing my best to make the world just a little less transphobic, one pointless letter at a time. Sure. Why not.

 My name is Gus Allis and I’m a queer cisgender woman living in Oakland, California. Cisgender, if you didn’t know (and I’m sorry for sounding patronizing if you do), means, in the absolute simplest terms, that I am not transgender. It means that when I popped out of my mother the doctors announced I was a girl and 25 years later I still am a girl.

 My husband, commonly referred to by all who have ever met him as “the sweetest human on the planet”, is a transgender man. His name is Joey. He’s 30 years old and from the South. He wears bib overalls and calls our dog “Mr. Woofypants” and since we started seeing each other 4 years ago, I have not had to do laundry one time. He’s great, Mr. Collins. I’m sure you’d really like him if you met him. It’s impossible not to.

 I’m sure you see where this is going. I don’t want to make this some big, melodramatic, “HOW COULD YOU???” letter. I’m not acting like something you said is in any way comparable to the verbal, physical, emotional, and sexual violence trans people face all the time. And I get it. You’re a human being who happens to be in a tv show that means a lot to me. You’re not perfect. Every human on this planet makes mistakes and says things that hurt other people. Duh.

But Mr. Collins, you are a public figure. We all know how incredibly large Supernatural’s fanbase is. People listen to you. And I’m sorry, man, but I can’t let you off the hook just because your character and show have deep, personal significance to me.

I don’t want to get into some big convoluted argument with myself (because you’ll never see this and I should be studying for my GREs or at the very least sleeping), so I’ll make it really really simple. When you tease someone, even lightly and good-naturedly, by calling them trans (or “pre-op” as you said which seriously Mish (can I call you Mish?), is like not even really what you’re trying to say here. If anything those pictures of Jensen Ackles would be pre-hormone replacement therapy), you are equating being trans as something laughable. I think that’s pretty uncool, dude. And I’m bummed you said that. My husband, that really sweet Southern boy who puts sauerkraut on his rice and beans, is not a punch line. His body and his past aren’t insults. I guess I’d just maybe respectfully request you don’t do that again. Please. Thanks.

Sincerely,
Gus Allis

 P.S. Here is a picture of me and my husband because I guess you maybe should see that we’re like real people? I don’t know man. We're just bummed.

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