V for Vaudvillian: Setting the Stage

UPDATE: After reviewing this post I decided it looked a little sloppy to my current work and wanted to make some minor adjustments. Also the story of Valerie is much more organized and accurate. – LiVia

As you can see the setup for the execution or rather “theme” for my blog was solidly based on “V for Vendetta”. Why some may ask, did I feel this to be a logical stage and venue to start a blog on achieving equal rights for those of us who are TS? Simply put, though in the film every minority was target by the fictional Norsefire Party, the film strongly talks about the attacks against Homosexuals. Nearly every personal story told, including one of the main background stories, is about someone who is gay.

In V’s world things got out of control. The result was near genocide for anything and everything “different”. To me, it is a worse case scenario of what COULD happen given the right formulation of events.

Today I would like to let you read a back ground story and ask yourselves if any of it fits how you feel or something you have gone through in your life. The following is a mixed rendition of the original graphic novel and the 2006 film “V for Vendetta”. Naturally credit for this story goes to the respected writers and makers of the film. Thus, I did not and am not taking credit for writing this. This was written while the character “Valerie” was detained in prison and experimented on. She based this note to the person in the Cell next to her. She was a lesbian.

I know there no way I can convince you this is not one of their tricks, but I don’t care. I am me. My name is Valerie. I don’t think I’ll live much longer, and I wanted to tell someone about my life. This is the only autobiography that I will ever write and God, I’m writing it on toilet paper.

I was born in Nottingham in 1985. I don’t remember much of those early years, but I do remember the rain. My grandmother owned a farm in Tottle Brook and she used to tell me God was in the rain.
I passed my 11 Plus and went to girls’ grammar. It was at school that I met my first girlfriend. Her name was Sarah. It was her wrists. They were beautiful. I thought we would love each other forever. I remember our teacher telling us that it was an adolescent phase that people outgrew. Sarah did. I didn’t.
In 2002, I fell in love with a girl named Christina. That year I came out to my parents. I couldn’t have done it without Chris holding my hand. My father wouldn’t look at me. He told me to go and never come back. My mother said nothing. But I’d only told them the truth. Was that so selfish? Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us. But within that inch we are free.
I’d always known what I wanted to do with my life and in 2015 I starred in my first film, The Salt Flats. It was the most important role of my life. Not because of my career, but beacuse that was how I met Ruth. The first time we kissed I knew I never wanted to kiss any other lips but hers again.
We moved to a small flat in London together. She grew Scarlet Carsons for me in our window box and our place always smelt of roses. Those were the best years of my life.
But the war grew worse and worse and eventually it came to London. After that there were no roses anymore. Not for anyone. 
I remember how the meaning of words began to change. How unfamiliar words like “collateral” and “rendition” became frightening, while things like Norsefire and the Articles of Allegiance became powerful. I remember how “diffrent” became dangerous. I still don’t understand it, why they hate us so much.
In 2021 they started rounding up the gays. They took Ruth while she was out buying food. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. It wasn’t long till they came for me.
They burned her with cigarette ends and made her give them my name. She signed a statement saying I’d seduced her. I didn’t blame her. God, I loved her. I didn’t blame her.
But she did. She couldn’t live with betraying me, with giving up that last inch. Oh Ruth. . . .

It seems strange that my life should end in such a terrible place, but for three years I had roses, and apologized to no one.

I shall die here. Every inch of me shall perish, every inch, but one. An inch, it is small and it is fragile, and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away; we must never let them take it from us.
I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.
– Valerie

To me this speaks volumes about the LGBT community. Mostly about that last “Inch”. So many of us are forced or seemingly forced to give that up out of fear. Fear of losing family. Fear of losing work. Fear of being hurt or killed. While so many of us sit in fear, the government that by Constitutional law is suppose to protect us, does nothing.

One of the latest cases of hatred was the McDonalds incident in which a trans woman was beaten by a 14 and 18 year old. What did the staff do? They FILMED it. The manager tried to end the violence to some degree I suppose by telling them to stop fighting but this attack went on for nearly 3 minutes. Why was the woman being attacked not sent to the back during the numerous breaks in the fight? Why did the employees just stand there? Why did they laugh? Was it so funny to see another human being treated like a violent criminal for doing nothing but using the restroom?

An Inch my friends. It is indeed small and fragile and is the only thing worth having. As those in the community who care about the serious situations we face as Trans fight the good fights on capitol hill, state buildings and local towns, I wanted to remind you to stay strong. We couldn’t gain progress without you.

Do not remain silent. Do not remain idle. Even if you live in the shadows and secrecy, call your states man at 2am. Be apart of letter writing campaigns. Do something to ensure that we, like the so many others in the LGB community, can enjoy equal rights. Hold on to that inch. Never let it go. But above everything, I would beg you don’t allow their hatred to turn your heart hard or lose your ability to love. This is a war, make no mistake. It is a war of words and legal battles and idealism. For so many of us it is also a war of Violence as we are targeted just for being different. Remember as you venture out today to hold on to that inch. Let your integrity guide you and keep your head held high. You are you and have nothing to be ashamed of.



~ by LiVia on April 28, 2011.

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