#deadnaming
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Hint, it wasn’t my first name I forgot how to spell.
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Someone on Roblox said they knew my name, said my DEADNAME instead of the name I’m comfy with and didn’t leave me alone afterwards.
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A teacher deadnames or misgenders a student. The student flips out, reports the teacher, and demands that the teacher be punished.
A student addresses a teacher by their first name. The teacher flips out and gives the student detention.
If you believe that the student in the first scenario is an easily offended and vindictive special snowflake while also believing that the teacher in the second scenario is acting reasonably, ask yourself why. It can't be free speech. It can't be that people are too easily offended. It can't be technical accuracy.
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sometimes i wonder if my friends truly see me as a boy. i mean, they all call me my preferred name. they use my preferred pronouns. but do they really see me that way? or do they just humor me? and how far does that go? will there be a time where they just stop? and go back to treating me how they used to.
do they see me as a boy? or to them am i just a girl, pretending to be a boy?
is my identity one to respect until it can be ignored? purposefully deadnaming and misgendering me for some cheap joke? reassuring me that im a boy just to excuse grabbing me in all the wrong places?
am i actually a boy to them, or just a girl pretending to be a boy?
what will it take for them to see me as a boy? i can't do anything without being put into a dangerous situation at home. is that funny to anyone?
because to them, that's just a joke.
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#deadname#deadnaming#twitter#x#anti elon musk#elon musk#meta#facebook#social networks#social media#internet#elongated muskrat#elon twitter#fuck elon#elon musty#elongated man#elongated tennis ball#elong musk#elon go fuck yourself#elon mask#musk#spacex#tesla inc#teslamotors#teslamodely#tesla#ausgov#politas#auspol#tasgov
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A tech company is apologizing after trans students were "outed" to their classmates because of an data error that affected eight school divisions in Saskatchewan.
Edsby is an online portal meant to help teachers, parents and students communicate. Students can use it before the school year begins to take a look at their timetables and see whether they have any classes with friends.
Earlier this week, a Saskatoon parent discovered her transgender son was deadnamed on the platform. Deadnaming is when a transgender person is called by their birth or legal name, rather than the name they identify by.
"[My son has] gone through all of high school as a boy, so here he is in his last year — outed," Monika said. CBC has agreed not to use Monika's last name because she wants to protect the identity of her 17-year-old son.
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @politicsofcanada
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JANUARY, 1995
It’s a shooting day and Dean’s ears are ringing with the pop of the .22 that’s growing heavy in his hands. At Bobby’s house he always has to wear earmuffs when he shoots; usually Dean complains because they look stupid, but right now his ears are so frozen he’s wishing he had a pair of his own.
He points the muzzle at the ground and shakes his head out, cupping a stiff hand to his cheek. There’s exactly zero blood flow happening in his face, and the cold makes each shot ring out so loudly he has to try not to flinch. And his socks are wet. Pretty miserable shit.
John’s on his way back from replacing the target, face grim.
“How’d I do?” Dean calls. Too loud, judging from the way his dad scowls.
“You’re blowing through ammo and you only got six on the page.”
Dean slumps. “Crap.”
“Yeah, it is. You need to get your shit together, I can tell your heart isn’t in this. You reload yet?”
Dean sniffles, even though he can’t feel his nose, either. “No.”
“No?”
“No, sir.”
“So get going. Show me you can do better.”
Dean’s fingers feel like ten useless icicles. He slides the chamber open and clink-clink-clinks ten bullets inside, then carefully closes the action. The Beretta is a testy bitch that jams constantly. Dad only trusts it for training and seems likely to chuck it soon.
He barely seems affected by the chill. Mostly he looks bored. “Go on and take a few steps forward. Ladies’ tee until you get ‘em all on the page, and then we’ll think about moving you back again.”
Dean’s skin crawls with embarrassment and he wants to protest—he could do better if it were warmer and if he weren’t so tired already—but obediently he moves closer to the target.
“Alright.”
He raises the gun and clicks the safety off. He’s probably more cautious with it than John cares, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.
The target is a sheet of paper with orange circles pinned to a stump surrounded by casings. He lines the center up in his sight and then aims a little lower to compensate because the Beretta shoots high. God, if Dean could get his hands on that ivory-grip Colt, he’d die happy.
He empties her out, gets about nine bullets on the page. Four of them land tight in the center. The stray shot is only because he overcorrected his aim at first.
He turns back to his dad with a grin on his face, feeling pretty proud. There’s a pleasant buzz of warm feeling in his nose and eartips along with the ringing in his ears as he traipses back to the ammo box. “Not so crappy, huh?”
John shakes his head. “Dunno where you learned to be such a brag.”
“What am I supposed to be, humble? Pass.” He squats by the box, breathing on his numb hands before delicately picking up the bullets. “Hard pass.”
“Being humble is what keeps you alive. Nine out of ten only seems good on a target that doesn’t move. It isn’t your best—or it shouldn’t be.” John’s silence is as unforgiving as his voice. Dean watches his words sink through the winter air like smoke.“We stay here until you can actually hit what you’re aiming at.”
Through no fault of his own, Dean’s mouth is suddenly letting loose the complaint he’s been trying to hold in. “Come on, give me a break, Dad. It’s freezing, and I’m tired, and I’m about to have frostbite on my carpal tunnel. I feel like I can barely pull the damn trigger!”
His father’s boots crush against the frozen ground louder than a gun. He looks up quickly, stomach dropping. Dad and his rifle make a stark silhouette against the cold white sky above.
“You don’t ever speak to me like that again. You sound like your brother, like some insolent child, not a man I’d trust with my weapon. I know I taught you better than this. When lives depend on you, are you still gonna be making excuses? Are you gonna be whining about the weather when it’s your bad aim that gets somebody killed? Is it gonna be the trigger’s fault when you get yourself killed?”
“No, sir,” Dean replies, heart beating in his throat.
“You’re laughing, you’re fucking around, I can see you’re not taking this seriously. You still don’t understand the stakes. Think about Sam—you know whose fault it’ll be if you can’t take care of him or the lives you say you want to protect?”
“My fault, sir. Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Don’t be begging for respect when you haven’t earned it. The only reason we’re still out here is you. You being cold and tired right now is on you. This is all in your control. Your life is in your own hands, nobody else’s. Do you understand that?”
His eyes are so heavy.
Dean nods and looks down, unable to speak. He is so stupid.
The dry air is hurting his head; he won’t be surprised if they get back to the cabin and find Sam with a bloody nose. Kid’s got a fragile sinus. The sooner Dean makes this, the sooner they can get back. He loads fast.
“Sam told me that you went hunting,” John says, tone slipping back to conversational.
“Yeah,” Dean says, grateful as he slides the clip home. “Bobby showed us how to do animal calls.”
“Being able to hunt and eat what you’ve killed is important. For when you have to keep yourself fed, but for building character, too. A hunter should be able to hunt.”
“And fish,” Dean adds. “Hey, we should go again soon.”
John nods, the barest hint of warmth. “My point is, everything you need to survive should be in your power. Your gun is your second most important tool after grit. Even when you won’t know if you will survive, you have to know that you can survive.”
Dean nods, and after a few seconds of silence, he supplies, “Bobby makes good venison chili.” He doesn’t mention that Bobby specifically said John was not invited to any of his suppers.
“You get one?” John asks. “A deer?”
Dean stands slowly, thumbing the safety. He doesn’t click it off, yet, and he keeps it pointed at the ground. Like Bobby keeps cussing him out about. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Dean’s mouth is sour, the pit in his stomach is growing again, and somehow he’s sweating. John sounds like he knows the answer why.
Dean clicks the safety off and Dad doesn’t even look twice, just waits. Dean walks back to his spot and gets into position. Behind him, John sighs. He sounds so tired.
“If you can’t even kill a deer, how do you think you’re gonna be able to shoot things that look human?”
Dean aims at the target and tries to breathe. The freeze is in his lungs, now, January’s teeth seizing his insides so every inhale is sharp. The target wavers in his sight as he tries to keep his hands still. It’s just an orange circle. Just a tree stump. Just practice, so he’s fine.
He exhales slowly, finger curling around the trigger. He’s fine and he’s got this.
“I mean, what am I supposed to think, Deanna,” John says lowly, voice pinched with disappointment, “you tell me you want me to treat you like a man, but you can’t even—”
Dean fires, ten rounds in steady, thundering succession until the ringing in his ears drowns out the sound of the chamber clicking empty.
The target is in tatters. He thinks they all landed.
His chest is still tight, and raw, and like maybe something has shaken loose or broken free. With shaking hands, he zips up his jacket, and then he turns and walks to his father’s side.
“It’s Dean,” he says thinly. He clears his throat and adds, “Sir.”
John’s looking at him and Dean can’t make out what’s going on behind his eyes. After a moment he nods, and then jerks his head toward their gear. “Pack up.”
As Dean’s cleaning up—collecting fallen casings and discarded targets, and making sure every gun is unloaded and every safety is on because Sam always pokes around even when they tell him not to—John claps him on the shoulder. His voice is soft again.
“I’m just worried about you, I need you to know that. I want you to be able to take care of yourself and Sammy when I’m not around. This world is mean, and cold, and it’ll tear you apart. I can be hard on you kids…I push you too hard, I know it, and it still won’t be enough to keep you safe. And that kills me.”
John cups the back of his head. Dean meets his eyes and sees a world in there that he can’t begin to fathom. “You did good today, Dean, really good. I don’t want you to think I have any doubts—about how strong you are, and how brave. And I trust I can depend on you, son.”
Somewhere inside Dean, a knot loosens, like he’s finally been allowed to breathe a little. It’s good.
#repost from my old blog#trans dean winchester#transphobia#misgendering#deadnaming#parental abuse#verbal abuse#forced masculinzation emotional stunting meow meow meow#bound for the floor by local h released 1996 changing nothing in deans life but becoming a soundtrack#dean: i earned respect! john: if i push him hard enough he will kill so good :3#ficlet#supernatural#trans dean#cw misgendering#tw misgendering#deadname#tw gun mention#tw gun use#mine
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I hate when people ask for my name because I can't give MY name. Sometimes I get away with giving just my last name but... I don't wanna be [deadname]. I wanna be Niko. I wish I could tell that to people
Submitted May 9, 2023
#transgender#trans#enby#nb#nonbinary#non-binary#non binary#chosen name#deadname#deadnaming#coming out
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Considering how integral people’s names are to their identity and sense of self, it doesn’t matter what drives a person to change their name. If someone has chosen a new way to identify themselves to the entirety of existence, using their former name is an act of violent erasure. Your respect - or lack of respect - for their reason is immaterial. Your reason for doing so is immaterial.
Deadnaming is deadnaming.
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Calling Kylo Ren "Ben" feels like deadnaming him
Here me out: Ben was feeling fundamentally altered after his traumatic experience with Luke Skywalker, and as part of separating himself from it, he chose a new name.
So referring to him as "Ben" feels like denoting who he was before, and "Kylo" for who he is afterward.
In that way, I feel like Rey insisting on calling him "Ben" after she learns that name is sort of disrespectful of his decision to distance himself from his family.
Though, I acknowledge him distancing himself through his name does ring a bit hollow when you remember his near-constant comparisons of himself to Darth Vader, BUT I would argue that that was implanted by Palpatine.
Because fundamentally Palpatine didn't care to acknowledge that his Grand Plan was just fuckin wrong, yet he's trying so hard to hold on to all that work he'd done.
But he's just a stubborn, vain man, and it would've been baller to see a Kylo that chose that name for himself.
ALSO!! Wouldn't it be baller if he chose the name "Kylo", no last name? Wouldn't that coincide so very well with "Rey", no last name?? The dichotomy of someone with no family because his family was slowly killing him, vs someone with no family who was only staying alive for the hope they'd be there for her?
And while we're on the topic of Rey, I can respect her taking on the last name "Skywalker" IF Luke had shown that he, y'know,, liked her at all? He seemed pretty begrudging about the whole thing to me.
Wouldn't it have been cool for her to adopt the name "Palpatine" as a way to reclaim power from that horrible man?
#star wars#star wars sequel trilogy#kylo ren#ben solo#deadnaming#social transition#luke skywalker#family trauma#anti reylo#that being said. i do generally appreciate reylo#but this is part of the argument against it#darth vader#supreme leader snoke#sheev palpatine#rey palpatine#pro reylo#reylo#star wars rey#rey skywalker
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TT’s not releasing this one, so here’s some thoughts on purposeful deadnaming people.
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"this alter is really fucking sick of being called a name that isn't even theirs" "this user is really fucking sick of being deadnamed"
#endos dni#userboxes#userbox#resources#osddid#osdd system#actuallyosdd#did system#actuallydid#trans#transgender#this alter is really fucking sick of being called a name that isn't even theirs#this user is really fucking sick of being deadnamed#transphobia#deadnaming
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NOT HASTUR DEADNAMING CROWLEY SHAME ON YOU HASTUR, SHAME. ON. YOU
#good omens#good omens 2#crowley#aziraphale#david tennant#michael sheen#neil gaiman#hastur#deadname#deadnaming#good omens book
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What names do I give off?
I'm genderfluid, so I tend to go for more gender-neutral names. But any is fine; I could just shift through names when I shift gender. So any names, I guess?
I love fantasy/magic, and superpowers, I love Greek mythology. So fantasy or Greek names would be cool!
Thanks!
#Transmasculine#Transgender#Transition#Transphobia#Transfeminine#Transsexual#Hormone Replacement Therapy#Genderfluid#Agender#Genderless#Cisgender#Demiboy#Demigirl#Non-Binary#Gender-Neutral#Androgynous#Birth name#Chosen name#Deadnaming#Nomifluid#Namehoarder#Name Non-Conforming#Multinominal#Pronounfluid#He/Him#They/Them#She/Her#LGBTQIA+#LGBTQIA+ Community#LGBTQIA
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The chief of the London Police Services (LPS) says an internal review has determined that officers acted appropriately in the case of the controversial arrest of a transgender activist following a swatting hoax.
In August, internet broadcaster Clara Sorrenti was arrested at gunpoint after the LPS received reports via phone and email saying she was threatening to shoot people at city hall. The 28-year-old was detained for 11 hours. Police later told Sorrenti that someone had used her name and address to send the threats and confess to a murder, which led to the raid.
What an evil fucked up transphobic institution with zero interest in recognizing and actively avoiding contributing to hate crimes. FTP
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