Renton, WA Class of 1961

Though I had been planning this event for years, I was somewhat dreading Saturday, Sept. 8, when the day arrived. I was going to walk into a group of essential strangers dressed as Romana Annette, but I was not going to back out, because I viewed the event as a Rite of Passage. I was operating under the handicap total knee replacement surgery, that had taken place just seventeen days before the reunion.

At 5:00 PM, it was time to get ready. I tried to be as precise as possible, especially in the application of makeup, for which I had had a refresher course a month before. At 6:40 PM, Carolyn dropped me off at Emerald Downs, and the adventure began.

I could not find the first floor elevator, so I limped up a long flight of stairs to the second floor. I got on the elevator, planning to go to the fourth floor, but a lady on the elevator said the social meeting was on the third floor. I tried very hard to act natural, but I nearly panicked when I stepped off the elevator in a group of 129 graduates plus their spouses. I calmed down when I realized no one was staring at me; for some reason, people seemed to take me for a woman despite the pitch of my voice.

On the Dinner Train the Friday before, I had hinted to one of my old buddies (and to a couple at our table) that I was going to be different. When I approached the former buddy, he did not catch on. It was not until I put on my name tag that people began to realize who I was. Those I spoke to first seemed puzzled, but they at least pretended to be supportive. At this point, I stopped seeking people out; I let them come to me.

The most dreaded introduction came next when Del, a Mormon friend of my wife’s family, realized who I was. I think he had to collect himself, but we did talk. Then the call for the group photo was announced. I managed to slowly limp all the way downstairs to a terraced corner just North of the grandstand. I stood down in front for my picture.

It was a long hike back to the second floor to take the elevator to the fourth floor. I picked a chair at a table end to have a place for my crutch. One of my childhood friends sat opposite me and asked what happened to Dennis, and I replied that Romana Annette had taken Dennis’ place for the evening. He really did not understand, and the conversation moved to other topics.

Several women talked to be briefly, on and off. One wanted to know more, so I explained that I had learned to overcome my stubbornness, deal with my emotions, and be who I am. I apologized for not being very friendly to my female classmates during high school. Another woman asked me questions in detail for about twenty minutes; she seemed very interested in all my motives for doing what I was doing.

I talked to my cousin from Arizona lastly. He had read the program book that I was into GLBT civil rights and transgender activism. He seemed to know what that meant and was not surprised by my attire.

I had a small piece of chocolate cake; then I prepared to leave. It had been a very tiring day. Would I do it again? Yes; it was vital for my personal growth. Was it a fabulous experience? No, the whole event was a let-down with no emotional high. What was the biggest disappointment? There were no other identified gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered persons at the event.

What did I learn? I can pass reasonably well to walk into a crowd of people, though I always assume that I am fooling no one. People mostly do not seem to care how I am dressed, especially when I act as naturally as possible.

Thursday, April 01, 2004