Remarkable People I Have Known: Lili M

She has to be the most memorable transwomen I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  Even though she didn't look particularly female or feminine she more than "passed".  She was authentically female regardless of her born gender status.  She had been previously married, with children, had worn a beard and driven a truck for a living. 

We met somehow in Benjamin's Café, during its third and final incarnation, this one on Granville Street near Davie, one block from where I have been currently living for the past thirteen years.  Like the previous two Benjamin's it was uniquely decorated with funk, antiques, bric-a-brac and suchlike that it always came off looking like a fin-de-siècle bordello en San Francisco whose decorator must have been under the influence of a variety of illegal and controlled substances.  I at first didn't quite know what to make of her.  I thought she might be an androgynous man or an androgynous woman.  As an androgynous man, myself, I did enjoy with her an instant affinity.)

She was an incredibly sane, incredibly gentle, intelligent and forward-looking presence.  She was also a hooker (okay, sex worker, #%@#!! politically correct thought police)  She felt that sex work was her only option as is still too often the case for transpeople.  I can't say that she loved her job but she really did what she could to appreciate and find value in what she did, primarily in her every attempt to humanize her johns.  She also looked out for and looked after many of the younger sex workers.  She was the local den mother.  I did not, and still do not, approve of sex work by the way, but let's contextualize, eh?

I did everything I could to spare Lili M my personal judgements and opinions about her career choice and she did appreciate this and was generous with her friendship.  I lost contact with her when she went to England for her full operation.  A young man friend was going with her, presumably as she said to help her test run the new equipment.

Lili M, during one of our many evening rendezvous en Benjamin's Café were talking one night about community and places of refuge and sanctuary.  This is when she told me in detail of what she envisioned: a place that she called "Sanctuary", where people of all ages, races, genders and backgrounds would feel welcome, especially those wounded by life; a place of creativity, music, fellowship and refuge.  a place where everyone belonged and everyone could contribute of their gifts and offerings of their lives and substance.  I wish I could remember more accurately and with greater clarity but she inspired me with her words and I went on to try to help form this very kind of community the following year, 1988, when the Community of the Transfiguration had its birth in the farmhouse in Richmond.

I have never seen or heard of Lili M since 1987.  I only hope that she finally found her sanctuary.  In the meantime I am still working at building my own.