“Dangerous Things” Updates
In the autumn of 2016, I was beginning my last year of undergrad and needed to conceptualize and complete a Senior Project - a collection of poems, short stories, a novel excerpt, etc. I considered a variety of projects, eventually creating what I titled The Venus Complex, a collection of personal vignettes focusing on my transition; it flowed out of me and onto the paper organically, and involved little to no imagination since it was largely autobiographical, which was a great help in terms of time management.
However, one project that I conceived around this time stuck with me: while brainstorming one night, I had put on an episode of The Twilight Zone - Episode #65, “The Obsolete Man.” It struck me at the time how the events of the TV drama so closely paralleled modern American politics in 2016 as the MAGA wave washed over the country, kindling long-held but oft-repressed hatred to flame, erasing people and beliefs they did not agree with or understand, and coining terms like “alternative facts” when what they meant was “lies.” It was all very Orwellian, but also Serling-esque, and, in that moment, I paused to wonder why so many pieces of media exist that highlight the fears of cis/het people, with precious little exploration into the daily anxieties of the very demographics the incoming presidency was openly seeking to eradicate. What did cis/het people know about survival, or the struggle for acceptance, or the panic and dread or having their rights and, eventually, their identities legislated away? Don’t get me wrong - The Twilight Zone remains a masterclass in sociopolitical commentary, and much of the show would be considered “woke” by today’s braindead, conservative masses who can’t define the term, but it was largely crafted for cis/het audiences, no matter how well we can all connect with the narratives.
I was tired of being forced to see myself in characters by proxy; I wanted actual trans representation that showed us as something more than tokens, comic relief, or monoliths. So, I started by making a list of fears unique to the trans experience: the panic of puberty, the terror of familial rejection, the horror of being unable to transition and become one’s authentic self, the anxiety of existing in a world where the state is able to mandate your personal expression. Having always been a horror fan, I knew that the best monsters have historically been metaphors for sociopolitical upheaval, oppression, and marginalization - and, as Trump was inaugurated and his reign began, I saw transphobia rearing its monstrous head in a way I had never experienced before.
Bathroom bans were the first major topic I remember; misinformation and sensationalism in the vein of the Satanic Panic whipped the MAGA crowd into a frenzy, calling for bills that would make publicly existing as a trans person more of a challenge or danger than it already was. Something as simple as slipping into a Barnes and Noble bathroom became a strategic choice between potentially being clocked and shamed, or dealing with a full bladder all the way home to avoid conflict or violence. It was while scrolling through the hateful, ignorant comments on a post about trans bathroom access that I saw the comment:
“Men do not belong in the women’s restroom, we do not need sick, dangerous things in our female spaces!”
I had seen transphobia online in the past, but its proliferation after Trump’s campaign had the uncontrollable intensity of a wildfire; people whose bigotry had been simmering beneath the surface for so long were now given community and license to spew their vitriol. It opened my eyes to what has since become a full-blown propaganda campaign designed to scapegoat and stigmatize a small, already-marginalized percentage of the population - a demographic of which I am a proud part. By labeling us as dangerous, predatory, or unstable, it becomes easier to erase us from existence with public support, as has happened throughout history thanks to colonialism, the spread of weaponized Christianity, and American / Euro-centric white nationalism.
I remember writing the phrase “dangerous things in female spaces” in my notebook and forgetting it. I went on with my life after graduation and tried to work on content for a collection of short stories centering trans women whenever I was able to. I eventually outlined twelve stories, each focusing on a different fear or harmful stereotype imposed on trans identities and bodies. As the political climate became more vicious toward trans people, I felt a renewed purpose, a duty to complete my stories where trans fears are hyperbolized into accessible post-modern fables that would speak to trans readers without alienating cis audiences. I worked endlessly, through the COVID-19 pandemic and beyond. However, the size of the project proved too large to compete with my professional and personal life, and I sadly shelfed it as I worked on other pursuits. Once Biden was elected, I even had a moment where I wondered, is this even necessary still? I had the foolish idea that Trump was in our rearview, and that things would start to look up.
I was wrong. In 2025, Trump returned to office and, within his first week, trans people were once again mere fodder for his blame-shifting cannons. This time around, he is joined by Elon Musk who is himself a staunch denier of the neurophysiological reality of trans existence, let alone the fact that we have existed since before recorded human history (when Nazis were not exterminating us and burning all evidence), or the fact that freedom of self-expression is a basic human right.
While sifting through notebooks one day, I chanced upon my scribbled message of “dangerous things in female spaces.” In an era where conversations about trans athletes allegedly dominating women’s sports and the perceived indoctrination of school children run rampant, I can understand how the propaganda machine generates fear, but it is always misplaced: we should not be fearing some hypothetical “other” when we know the primary source of danger for women and children continues to be cis men, and we should not scream “indoctrination” when what we mean is that we are being confronted with information that triggers our internal biases. I do not want myself, my friends, or others like us to be considered dangerous, especially when I have personally experienced harassment and violence because of who I am; the transphobia and prejudice, the willful ignorance and outdated thoughts on gender and bodies - those are the dangerous things invading my sacred feminine spaces. I reworked the phrase into what became the title of my collection: Dangerous Things in Feminine Places. Each story centers a different trans woman navigating a unique landscape of fear, and reclaiming this careless yet harmful social media comment, repurposing it in a way that sheds light on the very real dangers being visited upon trans people in an effort to stamp out fictional threats, seemed appropriate.
The past month has been a whirlwind of executive orders, fearmongering, and intentional misinformation crafted to continue our oppression rather than addressing the foundational, systemic, and deep-rooted problems in America. I realize that it is more important than ever that I get these stories out into the world, to both show trans people that they are not alone, and to illustrate for cis people the lived experiences and fears that we endure on a daily basis. As I read through old drafts, it shocked me how prescient some of the stories and concepts were: regimes stamping out the ability for trans people to transition, the criminalizing of being openly trans in public spaces, denial of human rights or government documents that reflect who we truly are… the list goes on. While the aim of the collection is to highlight the anxieties of living as a trans person in a cissexist society, part of the goal is also to show the resilience, determination, and strength of the trans community, even in the face of erasure. There are echoes of myself, and people I have known, throughout each story, and current events continue to give me tinder for the creative fire.
As more and more developments take place in this second season of “Trump’s America,” I feel like story-telling will be an integral way to form community and keep trans awareness alive as more and more evidence of us is systematically erased. As someone who grew up with no positive trans representation, I have always felt it is my responsibility to create it for others, and provide readers with escapes from grim reality that may be thought-provoking and eye-opening. As Toni Morrison said, we must all write the stories we want to read that do not yet exist, and it is with this in mind that I am forging onward and doing my absolute best to ensure that this collection gets completed and shared with the world as soon as possible.
* For more information about Dangerous Things in Feminine Places, please visit the project page.
