#jamey hampton

[mykidsgay]

Defining: Transitioning By Jamey Hampton

Welcome to another installment of our “Defining” series, where we unpack various terms and identities. Do you have a word that needs defining? Let us know!

Define It:

Many transgender people experience some form of gender dysphoria. Feeling ill at ease with one’s body and how others perceive it often leads to some sort of desire to change that. The dictionary definition of transition is “the movement, passage or change from one state to another.” Gender transition is the same. Transitioning is all about leaving behind the things about yourself and your gender that don’t feel right, and then feeling empowered to embrace only what does feel right.

Explain It:

Trans people, like all people, are unique! We all have different relationships with our bodies and genders, we all experience gender dysphoria differently, and, as a result, our transitions all look different.

Transition is a very personal thing. Some people “finish” transitioning but for many people, it’s an active process. There are also two distinct kinds of transition: social and medical.

Social transition is related to how someone presents themself, how they want to be perceived by others, and how they feel comfortable being referred to. Social transition can refer to things like: coming out publicly as trans, changing one’s name and/or pronouns, or changing things about one’s appearance such as hair, clothing, or makeup.

Medical transition is related to the medical procedures that one can undergo in order to more permanently change their body. One of the common aspects of this is hormone replacement therapy (HRT), which essentially involves taking either estrogen or testosterone, as appropriate. There are also a number of different surgeries one can choose to undertake—or opt out of! A mastectomy (“top surgery”) is the most common one for transmasculine people. On the other side of the coin, there are several surgeries available for transfeminine people, including vaginoplasty, orchiectomy, breast implants, facial feminization surgery, and others.

While these surgeries are often what people think about when they hear the phrase “gender transition,” they are often not the most significant part of the transition process, and many people choose to opt out of surgery entirely. That’s why a lot of folks like to refer to them as “gender affirming surgeries” — surgery doesn’t make a trans woman into a woman. She was already a woman! Surgery may just help her feel better about herself and her body.

Debunk It:

• “So Jamey, have you had the surgery yet?”

LET ME STOP YOU RIGHT THERE — and explain to you everything that’s wrong with this horrible (but all too common) question!

First and foremost, asking someone personal questions about their transition is extremely rude. Do you normally go around asking people invasive questions about their genitals? Then why are you doing it just because you found out someone is trans?

Additionally, the question doesn’t even really make sense! Medical transition involves a series of surgeries and each individual has to decide for themselves which ones they want to undergo. “The surgery” — the idea that there’s one single “gender reassignment surgery” that’s the end-all-be-all of transition — is a myth.

• “If someone doesn’t do a ‘full transition’, they’re not really trans.”

Definitely not! Deciding whether or not to transition and what aspects of transitioning one feels comfortable with is intensely personal! Some people can’t undergo medical transition due to medical complications. Many non-binary people don’t feel comfortable doing a “full” transition because they don’t really feel like the “opposite” gender either. (That said, some non-binary people do choose to medically transition, so the notion that non-binary people never have to transition is also a myth!)

On top of that, what does the phrase “full transition” even really mean? Many people find that transitioning socially is enough for them and that they don’t need to physically change their body in order to be happy living as their true gender. The point is that there are lots of reasons that someone may pick and choose only certain aspects of transition—and once they have transitioned to the extent they feel comfortable with, that’s what a “full transition” looks like for them! That’s completely valid and doesn’t make anybody any less trans.

Be sure to check out the rest of The Defining Series right here!

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Click through to read about our brilliant contributors! 

[huffpost]

What I Wish I Knew Before I Had Top Surgery

By Guest Writer Jameson Hampton

For anyone who’s going through a gender transition, there are certain moments that stand out.

I remember the moment five years ago when I decided to change my name to Jamey, to be consistent with my gender identity. I remember seven months after that when, for the first time, my mom used my chosen name and then four months after that, the first time I saw it printed on my driver’s license. In 2015, my partner gave me a greeting card that I still treasure that said, “Happy birthday to my wonderful boyfriend.” And during the summer of 2018, I was getting ready to experience another of those big moments: seeing my new chest for the first time after undergoing top surgery.

Top surgery, a common term used in the trans community to describe a double mastectomy, is a common part of gender transition for transmasculine folks like myself. It’s definitely an investment — the surgery itself is fairly intrusive and if you have to pay out of pocket, it can cost easily over $10,000. Thankfully, more health insurance plans are starting to pitch in for medical transition costs, and I’m very fortunate that my surgery was covered by my insurance.

Top surgery can feel like a necessity for many of us who experience a lot of gender dysphoria centered around our chests, both because of how it makes our bodies feel, and because of how it causes other people to perceive us. I had been coping by binding my chest, but binding is not only a huge burden but also unsustainable long term for health reasons. In 2015, I contracted pleurisy ― inflammation of chest tissue ― as a side effect of frequent binding. I longed to be free, both of my dysphoria and the hassle of chest binding.

My top surgery was a long time coming. It had been about four years since I realized top surgery was a necessity for me, and a full year since I had gotten myself onto my surgeon’s waiting list. But even all the time in the world to prepare couldn’t stop me from being nervous. I had never had any kind of major surgery before; I didn’t even know what it felt like to be anesthetized. Plus, I’m the kind of person who keeps themself busy all the time, and spending most of my summer bedridden was a nerve-wracking prospect. But my supportive friends and the thought of finally being able to jump in the lake without constricting my unwanted chest were enough to keep me optimistic in the weeks leading up to the procedure.

Before my surgery, I talked to tons of trans folks who had been through the same experience. I was given a lot of clinical facts about what it would be like — how long to expect to be bedridden, how to keep the surgical site clean, what arm motions could damage the stitches — as well as what a relief it would be to finally be free of all the dysphoria that my chest caused me. But the morning after my surgery, when my surgeon came back to the hospital to take my bandages off for the first time and do the grand reveal, it wasn’t really the memorable moment I was expecting.

Read the rest of Hampton’s story here.

[transadvice]

Hey this may be an odd question, but any tips for trans men who can't get a binder? My parents, although are supportive, don't want to get me a binder, for health reasons. I was wondering if you had tips for making my chest flatter. Please and thank you!

I wish I could talk to your parents to challenge their idea that you shouldn’t get a binder, “for health reasons.” What about your psychological health? 

As Jamey Hampton writes on the advice site My Kid Is Gay:

It’s true that binding can be dangerous if done incorrectly. However, the converse is also true—if done smartly and with health concerns in mind, binding can be very safe! Binding can be a huge relief and confidence booster for transgender and genderqueer people who don’t feel comfortable with their bodies. There are lots of stories about youth who don’t have access to proper binders and instead use things like ace bandages or even duct tape to bind;  that’s when it can get dangerous and you’ll hear horror stories. 

Like, right now, you’re asking me how to make your chest flatter without a binder. Essentially, you’re asking me how to bind anyway. It’s no safer to bind without a binder (and often it can be less safe)! If you’re gonna bind anyway - and trans guys/nonbinary folks/people with breast-related gender dysphoria are GONNA bind anyway - you might as well bind with an actual binder!! 

Anyway, here are my tips:

* DO NOT use duct tape or ace bandages. Ace bandages get more restrictive the longer you wear them (as they’re meant for compression of swollen areas), and something that feels OK in the morning can really hurt you by the end of the day. 

* Try using a sport bra or layering two sport bras. Would your parents consider the Title 9 Frog Bra safe enough? It’s very flattening - I used it as my main binder - but it’s less restrictive than a typical binder (after all, it’s designed for exercise). 

* Some people get good results with athletic tape (KT tape). This is essentially what the product Trans Tape is, but you can find KT tape in the drugstore or a sports store. Tip: when removing, gently work it off using oil.

I’d also suggest that you ask your parents to go with you to a trans-competent therapist or an LGBT family support group such as PFLAG. If they learn more about the trans experience, they may begin to understand the tradeoffs more clearly. Right now they are thinking that your solution is “just don’t bind,” but they need to understand is not necessarily a viable option, and it might go down easier coming from a fellow adult. 

[outforhealth]

"I believe my struggles with my body image and my complicated relationship with food are inextricably tied to my transgender identity."  -Jamey Hampton 

[bvx-blog]

"Trampoline started with 6 men and a woman. I wanted to see how high 3 men could throw a dancer if 3 men were going to catch her. Dramatically, it became a dance about how people can support and help each other." ~ Jamey Hampton, BodyVox.  Photo by Jim Lykins.

[mykidsgay]

Defining: Gender Dysphoria

By Jamey Hampton

Welcome to another installment of our “Defining” series, where we unpack various terms and identities. Do you have a word that needs defining? Let us know!

Define It:

The word “dysphoria” is defined as “a sense of being ill at ease or a feeling of dissatisfaction or anxiety.” That’s a pretty good characterization of what gender dysphoria is: feeling ill at ease or dissatisfied with one’s own gender. Most transgender people experience some level of gender dysphoria, and it’s often a huge factor in making the decision to transition (medically or socially) and live their lives as their true gender.

Explain It:

There are a couple of different aspects of gender dysphoria: body dysphoria and social dysphoria. When people talk about gender dysphoria, they’re very often referring to the “body dysphoria” aspect—specifically a discomfort with their body, and the gendered characteristics that their body may have.

Of course, body dysphoria manifests very differently in different people. While a lot of people do have dysphoria about their genitalia, that’s certainly not the be-all-end-all. Dysphoria can also manifest around voice, facial hair, or curvy hips. Many trans-masculine people experience dysphoria about how large their chest is, while trans-feminine people often experience dysphoria about how flat their chest is. Some people are sensitive about their height or the size of their hands. Personally, the worst body dysphoria I’ve ever experienced was related to how I perceived myself as smelling. It can really manifest in curious ways—any physical characteristic that might prevent others from perceiving someone as their true gender is fair game for body dysphoria.

As previously mentioned, though, body dysphoria isn’t the only way gender dysphoria manifests. “Social dysphoria” refers to a discomfort with the way other people perceive—and therefore treat—you socially. Some trans people decide not to medically transition (and that’s okay!), but social dysphoria can still be a huge factor in their lives. As a nonbinary person, while I experience some physical body dysphoria, the social dysphoria that happens when I am not recognized as nonbinary is often much more devastating.

What do I mean when I say “the way other people perceive you”? An example might be being referred to by the wrong pronouns or name. For me, being invited to women’s only events, where I don’t feel like I belong, can also cause social dysphoria. Social dysphoria is what makes me worry about my feminine clothes or my colored hair. I’m afraid, despite liking those parts of myself, that they will cause people to perceive me as less masculine.

So, what’s the difference between body dysphoria and social dysphoria? Here’s an example:  body dysphoria is when the phone rings, you answer and say hello, and the feminine sound of your voice is jarring and upsetting to you, perhaps like it should be someone else’s voice. Social dysphoria is the awkward moment when the person on the other end of the phone says in a confused voice, “Oh, I thought I was calling someone named James” and you have to reply, “Yes, this is James.”

Some trans people experience all of these aspects of gender dysphoria. Others only experience some. A lot of people experience different ones at different times, with ebbs and flows. No one specific way of experiencing dysphoria is more real or valid than any other way.

Debunk It:

“Gender dysphoria isn’t a real thing! You’re just making it up!”

Not true! While scientists don’t know everything about what makes a trans person trans, studies have shown that sections of trans women’s brains can look more like cisgender women than cisgender men (and the same with trans men resembling cis men more closely than cis women)! This article from Harvard breaks some of this down in an understandable way and includes links to some studies that have been done.

“Well, nobody’s really happy with their body, are they? Isn’t that the same as experiencing dysphoria?”

Nope! Gender dysphoria is more than just not liking how you look, and it’s not something that will go away through focusing on body positivity and making peace with yourself. It’s why so many trans people are motivated to come out and transition.

Dysphoria is also not the same as body dysmorphia, which is a symptom associated with eating disorders, categorized by a perception of one’s own body that doesn’t match up with reality (like people thinking they’re heavier when they’re actually underweight). Dysphoria is related to one’s body not matching up with one’s sense of self. This explains why surgery has been proven to be very effective at combating many forms of dysphoria, while this is not the case when combating dysmorphia.

Be sure to check out the rest of The Defining Series right here!

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Click here to read about our brilliant contributors!

[mykidsgay]

Out With The Old, In With The New: My Relationship With My Birth Name

By Jamey Hampton

— I don’t hear my birth name very often anymore. A birth name might be just a short word—mine was only 6 letters!—but it can be a surprisingly heavy load to bear. For a long time, it was a painful experience every time I heard it. I thought it would be that way forever. However, I’ve found that as time passes, my birth name is less of a burden and more of an oddity, like a remnant of an almost forgotten dream. I feel detached from it now, like it’s referring to a completely different person. And it’s a great feeling.

Changing one’s name is a huge milestone in a transgender person’s life. I’m very hesitant to label anything as a universally shared experience by everyone in the transgender community because everybody’s journey of gender exploration and expression is very unique. However, in my experience, most (though not all) trans people eventually want to transition to a name that better expresses how they see themself and how they want others to see them.

Deciding on a new name is a coming of age experience at its very core, even for people like myself who don’t do it until later in life. It’s incredibly empowering to be able to decide what name fits you best. It feels like being reborn into the person you want to be, and being in control of your existence, your fate, and your future. In fact, it’s such a meaningful life event to me that I literally celebrate the day of my name change every year as sort of a second birthday.

However, before I could get to all those great feelings, I had to wade through a lot of other less great feelings first: anxiety, indecision, self-consciousness. When I first came out as non-binary, I told people I wasn’t planning on changing my name. But then, I found myself becoming less and less comfortable with the way that name fit me, mirroring my discomfort with my body and my pronouns.

In those early days, I felt very worried about what other people would think. Would they think I was weird for changing it, especially after I had said I wasn’t going to? Would I be seen as that loser who chooses their own nickname and tries to force everyone else to use it? Would people even ever use my new name, or would I be stuck in a weird halfway state with two different names forever? Figuring out a new name that suits you often requires experimentation, since it’s really hard to know if it feels right until you hear other people using it. This only amplifies the anxieties because then you’re either still stuck with a name that’s not quite right or you feel like the annoying kid who keeps changing their name, like everyone else is thinking, “Why don’t they just pick one already?” I was lucky because I knew exactly what name felt right to me on the first try, but I’ve had friends who have had to try several different names before settling on one that fit them.

The name change process is strange because there are two very distinct paths that have to be traversed—the social name change and the legal name change. While the paperwork and the time spent at the County Clerk’s office admittedly felt daunting at the beginning, the social repercussions actually ended up being more turbulent for me. As it turns out, I’m far from the first person in New York state to submit a name change petition—In the eyes of the law, I was pretty much business as usual.

My family and friends were a different story, as many of them weren’t familiar with anyone else who had changed their first name. Some people expressed anxiety, because they were worried about their ability to get used to it. Some people expressed sadness or grief, because they felt like they were losing someone that they once knew. While these are totally understandable feelings, I didn’t understand why they were being thrust upon me when I was the one who was going through a big change. For me, changing my name was one of the things I have done in my life that was most purely for and about me, almost a celebration of who I truly am. Every time someone made a comment about how my name change affected them, it stung a little more.

Despite this, I was very fortunate that most of my friends were very supportive and immediately started calling me Jamey—and yes, it felt really great to be called by my new name! But I didn’t just want to be called Jamey; I wanted to be Jamey. I wanted everyone to focus less on remembering to call me by my new name and more on knowing me by the right name, who I really am. A milestone moment in my life was the first time someone accidentally called me by my birth name and I saw a look of unrecognition in my fiance’s face, as it took him a few moments to realize who they were talking about. That was the moment I realized he was really seeing me for who I was.

Now, my birth name is fading into obscurity. It’s gone from my driver’s license, my work email, and even my birth certificate! It’s gone from the mouths of my old friends who were once familiar with it, and it doesn’t even exist in the minds of my newer friends who are blissfully unaware of it. Occasionally I still encounter it from people who don’t know any better and it can still feel jarring, painful, and bizarre all wrapped up into one. But more frequently these days, I hear my new name and I’m struck with a sense of pride. This is my name. I chose it, I made it my own and I’m living with it, in this beautiful life I created for myself.

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Click here to read about our brilliant contributors!

[mykidsgay]

What Is a Binder, and How Can My Kid Use One Safely?

"My 13-year-old daughter(?) has recently come out to me as genderqueer, more specifically, as a demigirl. She's told me that she's still okay with being referred to with she/her and ‘female’ associated titles, so that's out of the way. But she tells me that she wants a binder, and while I support her, I don't want her to hurt herself, and I don't know what to do."

Question Submitted Anonymously Answered by Jamey Hampton

—

Jamey Says:

It’s wonderful that your daughter felt comfortable enough to come to you about this and I’m so happy that you want to be supportive of her. In fact, I love the question mark you put after the word “daughter”—it really shows that you’re being thoughtful of how she wants to be addressed! If she’s said that she’s comfortable with female associated titles, daughter is probably fine...but it never hurts to ask and make sure!

First, let’s start with a quick run-down for any readers who may be unfamiliar. Binding is a technique to flatten the chest and minimize the appearance of breasts. Compression binders are specialized articles of clothing designed specifically for this purpose.

I totally understand your fears about your daughter’s safety: You are her parent, after all! It’s true that binding can be dangerous if done incorrectly. However, the converse is also true—if done smartly and with health concerns in mind, binding can be very safe! Binding can be a huge relief and confidence booster for transgender and genderqueer people who don’t feel comfortable with their bodies. There are lots of stories about youth who don’t have access to proper binders and instead use things like ace bandages or even duct tape to bind;  that’s when it can get dangerous and you’ll hear horror stories. Being supportive and working with your daughter to make a plan for her to bind safely will ensure that your daughter doesn’t have to resort to those unsafe practices!

Now for some safety tips! First of all, using a proper compression binder that’s designed for this kind of use is so, so important. It’s also really important to make sure it fits properly. If it’s properly sized, it will feel tight but it won’t compress the rib cage. I recommend the binders from gc2b, which is a really great company that’s targeted specifically toward the transgender community, and they have a great sizing chart on their website. Since your daughter is still growing, it’ll be crucial to periodically make sure it still fits correctly and graduate to larger sizes as needed.

You should know the risks too. I don’t want to scare you, but the main risks associated with binding involve difficulty breathing and the possibility of contracting pneumonia. Don’t worry! The main way she can combat these risks is to be careful about where and how long she wears her binder. I would probably have her start out wearing it in 4 hour blocks and see how she feels. As she gets more comfortable with it, she can wear it for longer, but not for more than 8 hours at a time and never while she’s sleeping or singing. I know some people exercise and swim in their binders but I would recommend against that also, to be on the safe side. A few hard coughs periodically through the day—and especially right after she takes it off—will help loosen up any fluid that might have built up in her lungs.

The most important thing to keep in mind is that everyone’s body is slightly different and can respond to binding in different ways. Speaking as someone who also binds, I know that if I’m ever binding in a way that’s hurting me, my body gives me warning signs and lets me know that something is off. Your daughter knows her body better than anyone else, she just needs to know how to look for those warning signs. If she ever feels “off” while binding, particularly if she’s having trouble breathing or hearing any wheezing or rattling sounds when she takes breaths, she should take her binder off right away! If she still feels wrong after taking it off, play it safe and get checked out by a doctor. Just for the record, this is all the same advice I’d give to anyone who wants to bind, regardless of their age. However, because your daughter is young and still growing, I would just advocate for being particularly careful about it.

By the way, it’s really great that she still feels comfortable with the titles and pronouns she was already using, but I’d like to suggest that you be prepared for the possibility that she might change her mind about how she’d like to be referred to. When people first come out, it’s not uncommon for them to experiment with different pronouns and titles to see which feels the most comfortable. When I first came out to my parents as genderqueer, I told them I wasn’t planning on changing my name and then I ended up doing it anyway about six months later. There is no greater gift that you can give to her than the space to figure herself out, and I think you’re doing a great job already! Good luck!

***

Featured image via Kai’s Life in Words

[bvx-blog]

A quite moment from Jamey Hampton's work The Obliged performed by BodyVox-2 dancers Josh Murry and Kara Girod.  Photographed by Randall L. Milstein.

[bvx-blog]

A conversation with BodyVox founders Jamey Hampton and Ashley Roland

Since meeting at a Pilobolus workshop in 1983, Jamey Hampton and Ashley Roland have been inseparable. The pair performed together in MOMIX (of which Hampton was an original member), and four years later they co-founded ISO Dance—ISO standing for “I’m so optimistic.” In the early 1990s they relocated to Hampton’s hometown of Portland, Oregon, and in 1997, BodyVox was born. Combining sharp wit, multimedia and athleticism, Hampton and Roland’s visually stunning works tour internationally, and their theatrical contemporary dance company has become a mainstay for dance in Portland.

[bvx-blog]

Fascinating rehearsal video for BodyVox's beautiful dance Falling for Grace.  Choreographed by Jamey Hampton and Ashley Roland the dancers wear specially designed harnesses that allow them to move in unexpected and beautiful ways.

[bvx-blog]

Check out the promo for BodyVox's 15th anniversary seaon - opening July 20, 2012.

[bvx-blog]

The Cutting Room 5.3.2012  Where we find movies and memories at the heart of our shared experiences.

[bvx-blog]

What gets your heart rate up at the gym? Love!

Modern Daydreams 3: Treadmill Softly

A collaboration with BodyVox dance company.

Director, Writer, Editor: Mitchell Rose

Choreographers: Ashley Roland, Jamey Hampton