Trans Day of Visibility, celebrated annually on March 31, demonstrates how transgender identities have always existed and will continue to exist — no matter the circumstance. Lawrence’s own celebration of the day, held on Friday, March 31 in Wriston Auditorium at 3:30 p.m., featured local musicians, a poetry reading and an open mic, all highlighting transgender voices.
Before the event even began, the audience and performers buzzed with friendly conversation. Frankly, it felt like one big family reunion. Some old friends reunited, others talked about the upcoming election, and of course, many addressed the current political climate for transgender folk.
Emcee Rachel Crow began the show on this point. While she acknowledged how truly awful these statements and laws are, she emphasized the importance of a “badass trans celebration.” By recounting her own life story briefly — directing, acting, doing voiceovers and touring — she proves trans lives can thrive, even in the face of injustice. She continued by saying, “they can’t take your soul away,” a repeated mantra throughout the show.
Music and the arts provide a stable ground, a solace for the constantly shifting climates out of any one person’s control. And when Crow introduced the first act, Zen priest and singer-songwriter Taizan Alford, this fact could not ring truer. Alford’s original song “Walking in Love” undulated between empowering vibratos, dynamic riffs and folksy guitar techniques.
Alford’s prose blossomed atop the music. Written before he came out as transgender, the song asked the question, “who’s going to be my friend?” He imagined “walking with the Dalai Lama,” utilizing his Buddhist background to find the love and respect he deserves inside of himself. It was an absolutely wonderful way to kick off an incredible afternoon.
Vered Meltzer, the first openly trans person to hold public office in Wisconsin, read some wonderful poetry by queer and transgender poets for the audience. “We remain incorrigible” by Alok Menon was the first piece, calling for transcendence of binaries and existence itself. “Water I Won’t Touch” by Kayleb Rae Candrilli was equal parts funny and insightful, garnering laughs from several audience members, including myself. Jericho Brown’s “Crossing,” although brief, provided a dense spectacle into how difference should be celebrated, stating proudly, “I don’t march. I’m the one / who leaps.”
Meltzer’s highlight poem was “Trans Love Is” by Bogi Takács. With a simple prompt, Takács illustrates the many idiosyncrasies that make transgender love so special: “verbing the noun,” “blackberry sage tea,” “a delightful microwaving of hot dogs,” the works. As a transgender individual myself, I could not help but tear up at the last stanzas: “Anabasis, walks in the desert, / theoretical and intimate folklore […] / I am the you, you are the me.” This tender celebration kept my interest keenly.
Another singer-songwriter followed, this time employing a more soft-rock tinge. Victor James performed a set of untitled original songs that documented simmering summer nights and smoky skies. Their confessional lyrics pattered like rain on hot pavement, with a range that shined like the stars above: “What if I’m your joke?”
Some of James’ songs were softly strummed on their acoustic guitar, while others pounded doughtily. Their outlook on love was cyclical yet deeply personal. It felt as though the worlds they described became our own — just as tangible as the performance in front of us. Their music was another wonderful celebration of transness.
Ivy Danielle came after. Her music focused on being there for loved ones. This intimacy carried over to her instrumentation; with an acoustic guitar and soft alto range, she sang as if we were all around a campfire, telling stories and laughing softly. As of her performance, it was six years since she officially came out as transgender, which helped sweeten the afternoon further.
Danielle’s poetic delivery intwined with her soft modulations on guitar embraced the entire auditorium in a folksy and hypnotic state. She also was not afraid to be funny in her lyrics, giggling with the audience on several occasions. One of my favorite lyrics from the evening was, “You could read me anything.” Sincerely, Danielle could perform anything, and I would adore it.
The last formal performance was Nick Raymond, whose grungier edge capped the celebration off spectacularly. He was joined by a guitarist friend who provided steady tempos, jazzy techniques and electric textures. While his friend hooked up the amp, Raymond told stories of his time in Denver over quarantine, where, according to him, “everyone is transgender.” He wants to bring that welcoming community to Appleton, his hometown.
From mind-boggling belts to insane falsettos, Raymond’s two songs captured the full breadth of his vocal range. The audience was especially captivated by his cover of Incubus’s “Drive,” snapping along to the song, nodding their heads. His message throughout his performance was “give to give, not to get.” Indeed, he gave us a fantastic series of songs.
The ending of the celebration was marked by several organizations promoting voter education, diversity and inclusion. One middle schooler voiced concerns of transgender representation at their institution. Several of Lawrence’s own Klezmommies performed a three-person parody of “If I Were a Rich Man” from acclaimed musical “Fiddler on the Roof” — of course, with transgender themes.
Crowl appeared one last time to encourage the audience to vote in the April 4 election. Transgender rights may be compromised if the election turns a certain way. Despite what any lawmaker may say, though, she said, “you can’t hurt us.” While the performance concluded, the celebration itself will stay with me and many audience members beyond those auditorium walls.