When I was a little girl (but being raised as a little boy), what I wanted more than anything was to be a dancer. How I longed for it — the lights, the stage, the gorgeous costumes, most of all for the delivering grace of movement in harmony with a choreography greater than myself. Like a little Chinese , I had a beautiful, impossible dream. But unlike Billy Elliot’s, mine was never realized. and two left feet saw to that: I was laughed, bullied, or shamed out of every dance class I attempted.
writer
Kai Cheng Thom (born March 12, 1991) is a Chinese-Canadian writer, performance artist, mental health community worker, youth counsellor, and former social worker. Thom, a transgender woman, has published five books, including the novel Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir (2016), the poetry collection a place called No Homeland (2017), a children's book, From the Stars in The Sky to the Fish in the Sea (2017), I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl's Notes from the End of the World (2019), a book of essays centered on transformative justice,
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There are a million tiny privileges that people take for granted that cannot: access to , to physical activity, to taking joy in our own bodies, are among them. Finding a physical activity that I loved came at the cost of putting up with countless small acts of hostility, and finally, I had had enough.
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For many of us, doing physical activity is a highly emotionally charged, even dangerous, undertaking. Sports and exercise are sites of intense where regressive notions about the meaning of “male” and female” come to the fore. Public s are dangerous for , who are often stereotyped and stigmatized as potential who make “real women” feel uncomfortable. Exercise clothing is frequently revealing and emphasizes our bodies in ways that “outs” us to strangers or triggers . Even supposedly activities are actually as a result of stereotypes about “” versus “” forms of exercise.
As I twirled, cha-cha-ed and clapped my hands to the beat, I began to remember, for the first time in a long time, those moments I used to steal as a kid, dancing alone in my room with headphones on. Those fleeting moments when what I looked like didn’t matter, only what I felt. Only this time, I wasn’t a child anymore. There was no one who could burst in unannounced, laugh at me, punish me, force me to stop. I felt so free, so beautiful, in a way I had written off as impossible for me long ago. ... My inner dancer began to emerge from the deep pit where I had kept her all this time. I found the girlhood I was never allowed.