Tammyrae Barr: Taking on a truthful transition

Gender Reel, the nation’s only coast-to-coast film and performance-art festival dedicated to enhancing the visibility of gender-nonconforming and transgender people, images and experiences, is being held in Philadelphia from Sept.

19-21. The festival is a mixture of films, live performances and panel discussions. This week we spoke to Tammyrae Barr, the Philadelphia festival event coordinator, an avid film buff and friend from QFest.

PGN: Are you a native Pennsylvanian? TB: I am not. I was born in East Keansburg, N.J., which became North Middletown, then just Middletown. The house stayed in the same spot, yet I had three different addresses growing up! Kind of freaky. It used to be all forest and farms; now that’s long gone and there are 45-foot roads with curbs and sidewalks.

PGN: Tell me a little about growing up in East Keansburg. TB: I had what I’d say was a typical blue-collar boyhood life. Dad worked at the factory, Mom worked at the store and we did what we had to every day to keep things going. Dad was also a mechanic, a really good one. He was always tinkering with or fixing something, so my younger brother and I and even my mom had to pitch in — going to the junkyard and stripping parts, tearing apart cars and putting in new motors to sell and make a few dollars. I guess the highlight of all of that work was that when I was 16, we were able to buy a junker on Friday night for a couple hundred dollars, rebuild the engine, fix the transmission, paint it and I had a car by Monday morning. It was a lot of work but I think it cultivated my work ethic. I tend to jump into everything full-force.

PGN: Aha, my car’s leaking something. I should have you take a look! TB: [Laughs.] I’d probably be able to tell you what was wrong, but couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t have the tools my dad had. He was amazing. If he didn’t have a certain tool, he’d bring out a welder and make it.

PGN: What was a favorite vacation or memory as a kid? TB: We didn’t have the budget to vacation afar, but my father fixed up an old boat and we’d sail and go camping on the boat. It was fun to just get away from it all. When I was 12, I was allowed to buy my first dirt bike. My dad insisted that we learn to ride early, so by the age of 7, I had a mini bike; by 8, I had a go-cart. We’d go whipping through the woods and have fun, and when I was able to get a motorcycle, it allowed us to travel to other places. I have fond memories of the whole family going places together, me on my dirt bike, my brother on his Harley Davidson trailblazer, my mom on her street bike and Dad on his monster machine. It was quite the scene.

PGN: What were your extracurricular activities at school? TB: In high school, everyone told me that I needed to be the first one in the family to go to college, so I made sure my grades were good and that I was smart about things and tried to get involved in anything that would make me well-rounded. I was the editor of Viewpoint, which was our school literary magazine. I was involved in student council, and I also ran track and field — six-time varsity-letter winner, cross country, indoor and outdoor track, hurdles, relays. I tried the long jump and pole vault, but wasn’t any good at them. Shot put and discus were too muscular-based. I couldn’t compete with the guys; even running, I usually trained with the girls’ team where my friends were.

PGN: What was your craziest sports moment? TB: Probably me doing the high jump. Instead of jumping over head-first on my back doing a Fosbury Flop, I do it old-school-style, feet-first. It’s a little crazy to watch when you’re not used to it. I’d launch so far, I’d land on the other side of the mat so the coaches would have to stand there and catch me. Learning to jump like that was helpful in running away from thugs and bullies.

PGN: Did you have to do that much? TB: Yeah, I was picked on for being a sissy. I once had my head smashed with a rock and was left lying in the gutter. I took karate after that incident.

PGN: Sheesh. Where did you go to college? TB: I went to the College of Engineering at Rutgers. I’ve been a practicing engineer ever since. Right now, I work for a company that designs railway systems. I transitioned at work, which was a little tricky. The firm has policies in place to protect me, but people are people and there have been a few personal bumps along the way.

PGN: When did you transition? TB: Full-time as far as the world is concerned was Dec. 8, 2010. But I’ve been living as Tammyrae for a very long time. I went back and forth and showed what I thought people needed to see. In fact, initially I went down a very stereotypical hetero-normative path; my family was not very open to anything outside their blue-collar world. So I married a woman, had two children and, though she knew before we got married that I had gender issues, they grew during the marriage to the point that she finally said, “You need to go be you 100 percent.” I think a lot of people at work must have figured or at least thought that I was gay because I wore a lot of purple and pink and my nails and brows were always done, even with a suit and tie on. I tried to survive being incongruent with myself but one night we had a holiday dinner at a country club. It took me three hours to get dressed because I just couldn’t make myself put on a jacket and tie. Shortly after, I was outed and lost that job. In 2009, I got the job I have now and in 2010 I started transitioning.

PGN: I didn’t realize it was that recent. TB: Well, it’s difficult in the trans community. There’s a lot of infighting over who does what and when, and if you should have surgery or not, but all the variations aren’t wrong, they’re just different choices. For me, I felt an obligation to my family, to my kids and wife. I tried to cling to my old life because I didn’t want to lose anything and I did lose a lot: I was a Boy Scout leader and leadership trainer and I had to resign, I lost my job as director of engineering and had to take a big cut down to design engineer. I told my family and they stopped speaking to me. It was pretty brutal. But life is much simpler now: I’m a parent and an engineer, and I’m just Tammyrae.

PGN: Tell me about your kids. TB: They’re 16 and 19 now. The oldest has completed the rank of Eagle Scout and was involved in a lot of things at school — mock-trial team, mock U.N. He even got to speak on the floor of the United Nations. And he’s a DJ! He has now gone off to college. He’s quite the character. The youngest is radically different. He prefers to be a team player rather than the star. When he was a child, he broke his arm playing soccer and insisted on playing because he didn’t want to let the team down. When I told him he might hurt someone with the cast, he said, “No I won’t” and played the whole game with his arm tucked behind his back. He’s a very empathetic guy. They’re both awesome in their own rights.

PGN: And how have they handled things? TB: The divorce was hard on them, that’s for sure, but since I’ve transitioned, we’ve come together on a level that’s undeniably beautiful.

PGN: I remember you saying something about one of them being really supportive. TB: About four years back, before I left the house, we were having some problems with the older one. He wasn’t listening to his mother or his father. He didn’t believe in the family unit or that anyone cared and started doing things that were counter-intuitive to his normal success rate, hanging with the wrong crowd, etc. My wife said, “You need to go upstairs and tell that boy everything. Because he knows that when you leave here at 9 p.m. with a gym bag full of clothes, that you’re not going to the gym. Because he feels that you’re doing something sneaky, he doesn’t trust you anymore. He doesn’t trust us because we’re not telling him what’s going on.” Prior to that, she didn’t want me to share that aspect of my life, but we were at a turning point. I went upstairs and sat down cautiously and began to explain my gender issues to my son. Through the process we both cried, we both hugged and said I love you and when I was finished, he looked at me and said, “Dad, are you not the person who always told me to lead and not follow? To be true to myself regardless of what others think?” I said, “I am” and he looked at me and said, “Then why don’t you just transition already?” I said, “You know, you’re totally right. Let me go talk to your mom.” I told her and she said, “OK, now go tell the other one.”

PGN: That’s great. TB: Yes, the younger one took it a little harder because he didn’t quite understand it, but my wife and I had raised both boys to be open-minded about things, unlike the way we were brought up. It’s difficult because I identify as lesbian and I still love the woman I married, but she doesn’t want the world looking at her like that. As a result, we as a family unit are over. So I’ve moved forward and have started dating. My boys have met some of the people I’ve dated and there have been no problems with the boys and me in that area. It’s inspiring.

PGN: So we have Gender Reel coming up. What’s one of the films that you’re especially looking forward to? TB: There’s a Jules Rosskam film called “Thick Relations.” Having grown up in prototypical suburbia with a more or less privileged white-culture life, I never understood “chosen families.” Because up until transitioning, I had family — mother, father, brother. This film is about chosen families and I really want to dig into it and learn what it’s about. I have some “sisters” now, but I still haven’t rebuilt that family unit.

PGN: So your birth family has not been as progressive as your wife and kids. TB: No. My father seems to think that he failed somehow. He didn’t build me into the man I was supposed to be. Not true, he built me into an awesome individual, but he has a ’40s mentality and can’t see that. I cry a lot over that. My life isn’t what he expected, but I still do all the things I was supposed to do — taking care of my kids, taking care of my career, looking out for and helping others. But he just can’t cope, he’s unable to see me. My mother is trying. In fact, just this week, finally after five years, she called me Tammy and used a female pronoun for the first time. [Tears up.] That was huge for me. Especially considering just back in May for my birthday she informed me that I basically had no right to change the birth name that they had given me. It was mind-blowing to hear her call me Tammy. My brother still struggles. He thinks I’m going to confuse his children so I haven’t seen them in years. I’ve missed Christmas, Thanksgivings and birthdays. I know that if I were able to explain it to them, they’d probably be fine — kids don’t care about that sort of thing — but even though they grew up bouncing on my knee, I’m not able to see them anymore.

PGN: You’re right about kids understanding. Though I’m not trans, my nephew must have sensed something different and at 2 he started calling me Uncle Suzi. I loved it and the name stuck. It was fun to see the other kids at the park looking puzzled when he yelled out, “Uncle Suzi, can you push me on the swings?” TB: Ha! I get that. My boys insist on calling me Dad or Father. The best story I ever had was when my oldest and I went to Home Depot. We decided to divide and conquer to make the trip quicker. I finished first and was waiting by the cashier. She was ready to ring me up and I told her that I was waiting for my 16-year-old. She asked what he looked like and I described him. She insisted on looking for him and when she found him, said, “Hey, your mom’s looking for you!” He said, “That’s impossible, I just got off the phone with her.” He looked past her and saw me and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Yo, Dad! I found the part, but there are two kinds. Which one should I get?” I went clicking down the aisle in my little dress and heels and the cashier just stared at me. I walked past her and said, “Honey, it’s OK. I’m his father, we have a unique family.’

PGN: Great story! Now for some randomquestions. Who was your favorite group growing up? TB: Foreigner or Def Leppard.

PGN: Last item bought on eBay? TB: A vintage Coach purse.

PGN: Would you go skydiving? TB: Hmmn, I have two friends who are so good they can pack parachutes, but I also have a friend who broke his back skydiving. I’m leery but I think I’d try it.

PGN: I still can’t believe that I once … TB: Locked the throttle of a motorcycle and stood on the seat driving down the highway at 60 miles per hour. It was a night I should have been taken from this planet.

PGN: Say what? TB: In the path to transition, a lot of trans people have suicidal thoughts and I’m no different. After a few moments of standing on the seat with my arms in the air flying past cars, steering by shifting my weight, I finally sat down and said. “I guess it’s not my time.” After that incident, I put the motorcycle away and didn’t ride for a while.

PGN: Favorite movie line? TB: I have to go Philadelphia on this one. It’s from one of the “Rocky” movies where he talks to his son and says, “It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!” I’ve taken the hits, a lot of them — as a child getting beat up, having a knife pulled on me, to coming out in the trans community where I faced a different bias because I transitioned late in life and have perceived “privileges” like career and family and never faced life on the street. But no one knows what struggles a person goes through. I just keep up hope and try to help others and trust that things will turn out fine.

“Gender Reel” will run Sept. 19-21 at The Rotunda, 4014 Walnut St., and Passionate, 317 South St. For more information, visit www.genderreelfest.com.

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