Bash Back or Assimilation

My experience of Stockholm Pride was very positive. In a large part due to the fact that I worked as a volunteer in Pride House where most of the "serious" events took place. The Pride Parade through the City was exhilarating, 350 000 chering us 35 000 in the parade.

The theme for this year was hetero, how the hetero norm impacts all of our lives, something you don't usually reflect on every day. The basic norm is a white heterosexual male with a wife, a couple of kids, a car, a house in the suburbs and who have "missionary" sex every Friday night after the TV is turned off and the kids turned in. The only way I fit in that norm is being white. I'm a transwoman, lesbian with strong leanings towards BDSM and other fun sex games, and I'm unemployed, living in a small city apartment.

What bothers me is that the all inclusive policy of Stockholm Pride, and other movements around the globe, may water down the goals and messages. Marching in a parade together with the police, the military and sundry conservative organisations feels a bit strange to an old leftie, anarchist. Sure, I understand that it's necessary if we are ever to stop the hate and persecutions. But at what price? I've always been proud of being an independent outsider. I don't want to be a part of the grey, anonymous mass of middle class bourgeoisie. I walk the streets as a tall, proud transwoman and if any one have a problem with it it's their problem, not mine.

Then I stumbled across this blog: http://bashbacknews.wordpress.com/ and I felt a whole lot better. While I don't agree with everything they say and do it's good to see that the Stonewall spirit is not dead. We could use a lot of this especially here in Sweden. While it's great that we have so many openly gay people in the public sphere, artists, actors, an openly lesbian bishop and more, there is still a lot of predjudice and hate out there. Compared to other countries it might not seem so much but we still have to fight it.

But if the price of getting the peace we all long for is to conform to what's "Average Joe" expects where does that leave us? Do we have to eradicate what makes all of us so special, unique and loveable, each in our own way?

Should I dress like a woman of 60 is supposed to? Go back to hiding that I'm a transwoman? Pretend that I want to make love to a woman as a man? And admitting that I'm a top into BDSM is of course also out of the question.

I am who I am! And fuck any one who have problem with it! I'll never confirm to your arbitrary rules?

The Whip Club

Saturday afternoon I was faced with three choices for the evening. I could stay at home and work on the translation of Kate Bornstein's "Hello Cruel World" http://www.hellocruelworld.net/ and write the blog about bash back or assimilation I had planned, I could go to the opening of Högkvarteret http://www.hogkvarteret.se/headquarter.html or go to the monthly party at the Whip Club http://www.whipclub.se/ . I was leaning heavily towards option one, the productive alternative.

Then I saw on Facebook that my friend LQ was going to Whip Club. I had no idea that she was a member, and as this would be my first at WC it would be good to go with someone I knew. So out the window flew alternatives one and two.

We met up at the home of another friend (no name) before driving to WC. They were really dolled up in shining leather corsets and heels. I was more sedatively dressed: a black leather skirt that went below the knee, black stockings with pink skull and crossbones, gladiator like sandals, a black top with red lipstick marks, a red long wig, green contacts and a gothish black jacket with a pair of handcuffs hanging from one shoulder.Hardly age appropriate for a lady of 60 - but who cares? :-)

The Whip Club is located in an industrial area just north of Stockholm. After entering a nondescript, anonymous door we were met with a broad staircase leading down, the walls and lightning red. A charming woman let us in after we paid the entrance fee and showed her our member cards. WC have a VERY strict policy about membership, no becoming a member at the door and a minimum age of 23. No guest memberships. But if you ever come to Stockholm I'll try to have them make an exception for you Kate. :-)

At 11 pm there wasn't that many people there yet, and the air was a bit chilly. But during the evening/night it filled up. Unfortunately, from my viewpoint, most of the members of the club are straight. But there is a good mixture of all sexes, including all variations of transfolks. And all ages were present from 23 to over 70. For those that don't know: I am a lesbian preop transwoman of 60 and obviously into BDSM (as a top).

As we proceeded in the underground maze we passed at the entrance of a brightly lit room with a man in an apron and his assistant, a full-bodied woman clad only in a rope criss croosed about her voluptous body. In a gynaecological chair was another woman, naked and with closed eyes. We'll come back to this room presently.

Further in was the dance floor, at the moment empty, and sundry smaller rooms and then a very well stocked bar with affordable prices. We made a tour of the rest of the rooms before we returned there. At this point I should maybe mention that I had previously had a stiff rum drink at home and a big cognac at my friends apartment, I now added a Bacardi and Coke to that.

The atmosphere at WC is very welcoming and relaxed. Nothing like what I had experienced in the 80s, (middle aged men running around and demanding of every woman that they should whip them). As the evening progressed there was more action taking place all over the place. Someone was whipped or spanked, nipples were pulled and all kind of fetsish cloting, or lack of, was on display. I met several interesting people but no one that ignited that special spark. At least not a mutual spark, There were several women that I wouldn't mind having some fun with, including the rope clad assistant beauty. In the room just after the entrance a girl was holding on to a frame while being whipped on ass and back. She made me think of a former girlfriend, You can see her in the pic at the top of this blog. Oh, how I wanted to once again have woman like that, and this time as woman to woman.

As we next passed the room with the gynaecological chair the girl in the chair was having her nipples pierced. She had such a beautiful, happy angelic expression on her face! I just stood and enjoyed the beauty of it. When I later in the evening entered the room she had needles stitched in an intricate pattern from her breasts down to her cunt. It was a beautiful, almost sacred, work of art.

Well, you ask impatiently, did I get any action this fabulous evening? Sadly not. Several reasons for that, mainly the lack of bi or lesbian bottoms that also were wiling to play. And even if I had found one there is the problem that I want to make love woman to woman and that can't happen untill spring. OK, I admit that's a flimsy excuse, there are plenty of ways to have fun. Especially when BDSM is involved.

As the evening went on, and a few more drinks were consumed, we were joined by a couple that LQ knew. He was my age and dressed kind of semi trans. She was a full bodied Italian beauty and the first thing she did was holding her hand out to be kissed. Being the polite lady I am I obliged even if I am a top. There was some caressing of arms and such, nothing more. Later we found ourselves at the same table as the pair and the caressing and hugging resumed. She had very beautiful dark brown eyes that were a joy to gaze into.

There is a no smoking policy at WC, except in one room. And that's where it almost happened. The Italian beauty, let's call her B, and I did a lot of caressing of sundry body parts, (her ass was very nice to fondle and as made for spanking or the whip) and gazing into eyes. There were some problems if anything was going to happen. The main one being her man, I have no interest at all in becoming involved in a three some with a man as part of it. The second reason being that B is top and straight and I am top and lesbian. It soon became clear that a way could be found around that. And if I had stayed longer I'm sure something would have happened. Hopefully with me and B while her man and LQ played with each other. Well it was not to happen. Four of us decide it was time to call it a night and LQ dropped me of at home around 4 am.

All in all a rewarding evening that made me realize that I have to get out more in RL. So watch out girls this cougar is on the prowl!

The Music and the Revolution in the Sixties

So, ladies and lassies, let's continue the history lesson after the interlude about why us Golden Ladies are so knowledgeable about music.

I left you hanging in the mid 60s. Today's story begins in the spring of 65. I had begun my journey leftwards and had older friends that were active anarchists, writers, artists and situationists . My musical taste at this time was leaning towards Billie Holliday and songs from the Spanish civil war. Rather limited I know, but then that's the way it is when your 16.

With my brother and parents we went to Copenhagen for the first of May holidays. I knew a Danish guy from a meeting of the situationist international so we hooked up with him. Who wants to spend a weekend in Copenhagen with your parents when you're 16? He was also active in the anarchistic movement Provos. We in Gothenburg were also much influenced by this Dutch movement. But we called ourself "Vulgär Anarkister" - vulgar anarchists.

Chairman Mao's little red book had just been released in the west and we had copies of it. Armed with that and our youthful spirits we sat out to "preach" to the citizenry. Waving our little red books we rushed along "Ströget", THE street in Copenhagen, shouting: Provo, Anarki, Mao. Now and then we would stop, my brother and I in a worshipping position on our knees while our Danish friend read out loud. Then up, running and shouting. We repeated this on "Rådhuspladsen" and on the courtyard of the royal castle "Amalienborg".

Well this haven't been much about music so far. But maybe it gives a feeling of how the mood was among us on the far left in the mid to late 60s. Anything was possible and the old, rotten society would crumble any moment.

As the decade progressed the political climate all over the West became more and more radical, leftist and revolutionary. Not that we ever were a majority. (Except for a short period 68 in France.) To a large extent the music and the "youth culture" paved the way for this. As did the growing opposition all over the world against USA's criminal war in Vietnam. In Sweden the left was dominated by the different brands of communists, we anarchists called them all stalinists.

The domestic music scene changed drastically in Sweden in the second part of the sixties. A lot of groups rejected the big labels and started their own independent labels. The music varied from folk to very experimental. The texts became very important, sometimes poetic, sometimes political. And some of the artists became popular even among "the common man".

At the end of the decade the popular music all over the world had changed. Gone were Perry Como, and only old folks were listening to Frank Sinatra. Even Elvis tried a shot at being socially concious with In the Ghetto. We got great artists like Jimie Hendrix (I heard him at Gröna Lund and my oldest daughter played with his child at Eriksdalsbadet) Janis Joplin, the Fugs, Mothers of Invention and many more. In Sweden we got Nationalteatern, Nynningen, Träd, gräs och stenar, Hola Bandola Band, Philemon Arthur and the Dung.....................

Why Us Old Cougars Know More

about music than you kids of today.

I bloged about this theme on my Swedish blog http://caisa.livejournal.com and was asked to write something similar in English. Hi Christina!

Oh, BTW, the jacket I wear on this pic, taken today, is the one mentioned in my previous blog. The one my mother made way back when.

So gather around children and harken as I tell you about how it was in the olden days, back in the sixties. I live in a country way up North called Sweden and at that time in a town called Gothenburg. We had no mp3 players and no computers. The net was something the US military had just started playing with. What we had was record players, radio and TV to satisfy our craving for music. The TV had only one channel and if we were lucky they showed a program called Oppopoppa once a month. The records were quite expensive and we could only afford singles. The latest singles were only available in two stores in the city. Which leaves us with the radio. The state had a monopoly on broadcasting (which later on led me to be a part of the leftwing/anarchist pirate radio "Radio 88" but that's another story that I might come back to some day. And they were kind enough to play pop/rock for a whole hour every week day, and there were the top list "Tio i topp" for an hour on Saturdays.

And then there was Radio Luxemburg. We gathered in the evenings in spots that usually were good for reciving. Providing someone ha managed to sneak a transistor radio out of the house. The quality of the sound was rather poor, but they were playing the very latest from England.

So to hear the music we wanted we had to listen to all sorts of music that was played on the radio. It could be anything, but mostly it was Swedish and English popular music from the twenties to the fifties. Some light jazz, operettas, and classical music was also heard now and then. And, yes, we hated this with a vengeance.

But as I talk music with young people today I realize that it had given me a grounding in musical history and different genres of music. A grounding that came without me even trying or even wanting to learn.

Today, with thousands of stations to chose from, on the air and on the net, You can opt for just listen to the kind of music you already like. Thus missing out on something you might like.

Don't misunderstand me. I don't want the bad old days back. The fantastic availability of music is a good thing (TM). But, and this might be illegal where you live, download a few torrents with music you don't usually listen to. Or, better yet, get an account with a usenet server and look around the alt.binary.music and download anything that might interest you. You might be surprised! I found some rare queer blues recordings from the twenties and thirties.

With love and kisses till next time.
Caisa

The Musical Revolution of the Sixties

Two things was important in the sixties to make me into what I am today. Well, of course there were many more but these were the major influences: The new music from Britain and the opposition to the war in Vietnam. It radicalised me and gave me the courage to break with the traditional way I was supposed to look and behave.

I was 13, and because of too much skipping of school I was on "leave" for a year. I was working in a posh store in central Göteborg, Sweden. They sold curtains, carpets, furniture textiles and oriental carpets. I was a kind of helper in the oriental rug department. It was there, in the storeroom/lunch room in late 1962 that I first heard the Beatles and Love me do on the radio. From that moment everything changed.

It came in the best possible moment in time for me. Before I was a nerdy, shy boy with ugly glasses. In the fall of 1964 I was a full fledged mod. The hair long(ish) and, because my mother liked the fashion and is very good at sewing, dressed in clothes that were only seen in the papers. I still have the jacket that she made after having seen the Beatles single cover, and it still (almost)fits. We followed everything in the Swedish journal Bildjournalen. and when we could afford we took the tram in the centre of Göteborg and a shop that sold New Musical Express and Melody Maker.

I also started school again, eight grade and another school. After being one of the nearly invisible and ignored in my old school I was soon one of the more popular in the class, togeher with my brother and one more guy. This was really brought home to me in the ninth grade when we had a "klassdans". An after school event were we brought records to play and dance to. I had been in town at Götaplatsen, were the mods hung out. I was late to the dance and several of the prettiest girls were about to leave. But when I arrived they changed their mind. I wasn't told this until a few years later. Had I known it then I probably would have fainted. From an ugly duckling to a soaring swan in about a year.

As so many mods we were threatened with beatings because of our hair and clothes. But it never came to anything but words. Then I read in NME that the mods in London had started wearing make up. The girls I knew were more than happy to help out. As I understand it now the English mods just used eye liner and mascara. But I went the whole way, lipstick, eye shadow and nail polish. Onto the tram and into town we went. US Army jackets, boots, flared pinstripe trousers and tons of make up. Teenage girls in the early sixties were not famous for subtle make ups. The reaction among our fellow mods were mixed. Some laughed but some, mostly girls, liked it thought I was brave. Needless to say I revelled in the attention. We then ventured down "Avenyn" away from our usual hunting grounds.

That's when things changed. The looks I got were hostile. And a bit up Östra Hamngatan we were surrounded by a gang of "raggare" (Best described as a sort of red necks.) One of them took a swing at me. It would probably have been a KO. But a friend yanked me out of the way and my antagonist hit one of his friends. We ran up towards Götaplatsen but before we got there two older guys (17 - 18?) who usually hung out with the mods pulled us into a shop entrance and tried to force me to rub of the make up. I don't know were I got the courage but I refused. They didn't beat me up but threatened to do it if they ever saw me with make up again. A fee weeks later they did but I was in a big crowd so was safe.

In hindsight I can see that it wasn't just a desire to be like the mods in London or to show my independence. The joy I felt when made up and having long hair (sometimes with a cute bow)should have made me realise that I really was a teenage girl. But I've always been good at repressing what I'm afraid of. If I had had the courage to face it I don't know what I could have done then, back in the dark ages. If I could have fathomed the possibility of a sex change and still being attracted to girls I think I'd been on a wholly different course in life - a tall thin baby dyke.

But this was supposed to be about the music. I soon left Beatles behind for Stones, the Who, Kinks, Pretty thing and local bands like the talented but unknown Beachers.

When the tickets for the Stones first concert in Sweden were released the crowd were behind a simple rope barrier. Needless to say the rope didn't hold us back. That resulted in a historic event in Swedish police history. As we were milling around out of a side street came a company of police on horses with drawn sables, the last time that happened in Sweden. We were very naive in those days and couldn't imagine that the police would hurt us so we just laughed and leered. Some girls who were riding in the same stable were the police horses were quartered went up to them an patted them.

The concert in Svenska Mässan was great the first ever big concert I went to. I've since seen the Stones several times, but that first time was marvelous!

So it wasn't just the music that made it revolutionary. It was the attitude that went with it. We no longer wanted to grow up and be like our parents. We questioned everything and every authority. Most of my generation "grew up" and became a part of the establishment. But none of us were unaffected. Though very few became like me: A lesbian transwoman anarchist.

About #healthcare

There seems to be an incredibly hot discussion going on across the pond re Obamas healthcare plan. I don't claim to have any real knowledge about it or the current situation. Suffice to say that I'm frequently amazed of how much is dependent on you having the funds to pay for treatments and medicine. So let me give you a brief explanation of how it works here in Sweden. If you want more info than I'll give you in my ramblings you can point your browser to: http://www.forsakringskassan.se/sprak/eng .

So this is how it works:

If you are unable to work you get about 80% of your income, the first week is paid by your employer, after that the social security kicks in. Many employers have additional insurance to cover loss of income.

An example: a few years back I worked at a café and one day as I was standing behind the bar I made a clumsy turn and stumbled on my own foot. Later that evening I felt that the pain were more than could reasonably be expected. So off I went to the ER. (Unfortunately not looking like the crew of the TV-series.) They established that I had a broken bone in my right arm. I couldn't work for 4 weeks and needed painkillers. So how much did it cost me in fees, medicine and loss of wages? Not a dime. “Högkostnadsskyddet” (patient's cost ceiling within a one-year limit for medical care and medicine under the health service) covered it all since I had reached the ceiling for both medical care and medicine. And my employers insurance, which is mandatory, covered the wage loss.

The ceiling for medical care is 900 SEK a year,for medicine it is 1800. If you need technical stuff like a wheel chair, crutches or the like the ceiling is 2000, and for cabs and other transportation needed it's 1400. So no Swedish citizen pays more than 6100 during a year and most of us don't need all the benefits.

(For the amount in your currency go to http://www.xe.com/ucc/ )

I'll take my current situation as an example. I suffer from frequent migraines and a bad back due to a slipped disk. This in itself would qualify me for the medicine ceiling, But as I'm also diagnosed as a transsexual, M2F, the added costs are staggering. I need the hormones for the rest of my life, hopefully a long one, and add to this the cost for several operations, srs and possibly breast implants, electro zapping of beard and sundry bodily hair, several wigs every year to cover my balding testosterone poisoned scalp and I could never afford the transition in this life time without our healthcare. And for this I pay tops 2700 SEK spread over a year and also get to pick wigs for 2500 a year.

So who is covered by our healthcare? Every Swedish citizen and everyone who is not a citizen but who pay taxes here. All children are covered, regardless of citizenship. It is something we take for granted. So when I read about, for example, a child dying of an infected tooth because the mother couldn't afford to pay for the necessary care I can't help but wonder how civilized you really are over there.

It's all financed by taxes and nobody objects. Sure there is debate over how high the ceiling should be and if high income households should have a higher one. But no one, from the far right to the far left questions the validity of a universal healthcare plan.

So, you sisters and brothers in the US, get a grip and join the rest of the civilized world and adopt Obamas plan.

Transgender Basics - Gender Identity Project (GIP)

Why so late?!

I'm sitting outside a café in Stockholm and feeling frustrated. All those lovely young girls walking by, and me an old cougar of 60. And I have to wait untill next spring before I can make love to a woman the way I want to - as woman to woman.

The main thing that I'm thankful for after all those years as a man is my daughters. So why the hell did I wait so long? I'm very good at repressing things that might be difficult and when the idea of a sex change surfaced I pictured grotesque trannys with beard stubble and knobby knees. My way of dealing with it was mainly to questioning the traditional gender roles. Something that came easy for someone of my generation and on the far left. Mind you, it wasn't always that easy. I remember an occasion in the fall of 67, when I got laughed at because I suggested that we should form groups to tackle the role of males and how we should attack and change them. Not even the proto feminists took me seriously.

I was, to put it mildly, a problem child from my teens and way up in adulthood. I realize now that much of it was my repressed need to change sex. I used to run away, to Stockholm, Copenhagen and the Netherlands among others. I wasn't running away from anything, no abuse or bullying or anything like that. I was running towards something. Some change. Unfortunately I had no clear picture of what that something was. It's a miracle that I didn't get hooked on drugs or booze.

I've had more, much more, than my allotted share of sex partners through the years. And I like to think that most of them were very satisfied. In a big part due to the fact that I wasn't that interested in just penetration, the old in and out. Without realizing it what I wanted was sex woman with woman. Hence my concentration on her lust with tongue, finger and hands. I'm proud to say that I discovered the G-spot before I've ever heard of it. ;-)

As usual I'm rambling. I've already forgotten what I intended with this blog instalment. So let me tell you of some observations regarding my hormone regime. I'm on an oestrogen gel, Divigel, which I take 2 mg in the morning and 1 mg in the evening. At the start of the therapy i also took an anti androgen, Cyproteron, 50 mg morning and evening. After the bloodwork showed very high liver values I quit them. But recently I've started Cyproteron again as I thougt I detected a decrease in my feminization, no more growth of breasts and a corsening of body hair. I'm pleased that my tits have started to feel painfull again and also a slight growth. But I'm going to have the blood work done again soon. I don't want to end up in hospital before the big operation, probably sometimes next spring.

But what I hadn't really expected was some mental changes. OK, that my tear ducts sometimes open for the slightest, and sometimes silly, reason I sort of expected. But not to that extent. When I watched the end scenes in Tipping the Velvet I sobbed loudly and could hardly see the screen. On a more serious note, when I watched the video of Neda being murdered and dying in front of the camera I cried for almost an hour, and then on and off during several days.

My taste in food have altered drastically. Before the hormones I was like the Cockie Monster, I could eat a package of cockies in no time. A Schwartswald cake went down in 20 minutes. Now I hardly miss them at all, I prefer more "healthy" food (thanks Öyvind and Mojj for the wild boar wok Saturday evening).

I also get more of an emotional reaction to babies, cats and cute dogs. Probably something to do with oxytocsins.

My Birkenstock sandals have given up on me, can't walk in them without my feet hurting. Can I be a lesbian without Birkenstocks? :-) Is it OK with Ecco?

Well enough ramblings from me for now. But Godess how I long for a woman/woman relationship.

Pics from Stockholm Pride 09

Stockholm Pride 2009, the ramblings of a cougar

Me tired after the parade

So now the fun is over. For over a week Stockholm have been taken over by us fags, lezzies and asorted queers. And I'm proud to be a part of the latter two - a transsexual woman, lesbian, queer and gender outlaw.

I've been working as a volunteer at Pride House so haven't had much time to participate in other events. This will as a consequence be a rapshodic and personal account.

Stockholm Pride is made up of three main parts: Pride Garden, Pride Park and Pride House as well as lots of events associated with Pride, like museums theaters, resturants, clubs ..... Pride Park was in Kungsträdgården - a park in central Stockholm - all events there were free and there was some great stalls such as the publishers Normal .

Pride Park, situated in Tantolunden is the main area for entertainment and stalls for shops, bars, political parties and a lot of LGBT related organisations.

Pride House, in Kulturhuset in central Stockholm, Is where most discussions, talks and lectures were held as well as plays and music.

During the week all buses have been carying the rainbow flag. And all official flagpoles all over town have had the flag flying.

To begin at the end: Saturday we, about 35 000 people, took a leasurley stroll through our beautifull city. Watching us fags, dykes, queers, trannies and assorted outlaws were about 350 000 citizens. For various reasons this was my first parade but absolutely not the last! It was a marvelous feeling, especially towards the end of the route. Thousands of people on a knoll in front of a church and on a hill opposite were cheering and waving. Loved it! I was walking under the banner of KIM, an organisation mainly for all variants of trans people.

But then I started to wonder. About a third of the population was out to cheer us but what about the rest of the year? Where does the discrimination come from? The hate, the snide remarks, the snicker behind the back and the violence? Are they just out to watch the freaks? Do they really love us? Well, never mind, I took it as a well earned tribute to our trails and tribulations.

Back to the beginning: I was working at Pride House as a roadie in a large but a bit out of the way premise. I was in charge of arranging the stage, see to it that the tech was as requested, water for the lecturers, counting the audience, keeping the very tight schedules and generally make sure that everythin ran smothly. As it was not more than 15 minutes between events it was sometimes a bit hectic. And because the doors had to be closed most of the time I unfortunately didn't hear much of what was going on.

The rest of the volunteers were a lovely bunch of coconuts.. ehh people. As behoves Pride there was all sorts of preferences, genders and ages. I look forward to seeing them all again next year.

There is not much i can tell you of the events. The chief of police in Stockholm, Karin Götblad, have very nice legs, and she have done much to fight hate crimes and to change the attitudes among the police in Stockholm.

An old friend that I haven't seen since the seventies, Pia Laskar, talked about what's been defined as normal throgh history. Did you know that the term heterosexual is as new as the mid 1800s?

Pia was also one of the guides on a boat sight seeing with the theme of lesbians and queers in Stockholm from King Kristina to the present.

Another friend I listened to was Nina Ramsby, she's one of the best artists I know of. Her participation in Pride Park wasn't announced untill the same morning but the out of the way venue was packed with audience, mostly girls an women. And as usual Nina was great, she have a fantastic stage presence and report with the audience.

One thing I did through out the festival was lobbying for Kate Bornstein to be invited as a guest at next years Pride. I'm also trying to get Normal Förlag to publish a Swedish translation of Kate's book "Hello Cruel World: 101 Alternatives to Suicide for Teens, Freaks and Other Outlaws". Anyhow I'm going to start translate it tomorrow. Lazy and easily distracted as I am I have made a schedule for myself. Now the problem is how to make myself stick to the schedule.

Stockholm protests the murders in Tel Aviv

Last night a message went out on Facebook and twitter to assemble at Sergels Torg in central Stockholm in two hours to protests the murders in Tel Aviv. Despite the short notice over a hundred people turned out to protest and to show our support for our friends in Israel.

Every time I hear about a hate killing it makes me sad but also angry. I can somehow understand someone who kills out of jealousy or greed even if I abhor any taking of a human life. But to kill someone you don't even know because who they are, what they look like, their politics or religion, that is something I can never understand. How can we stop all this hate killings? I know it's almost like wishing for world peace. But nevertheless it's something we must stive to do.

Regardless of what we do we must keep in mind not to start any kind of vendetta. That just fuels the hatred. I'm not a religious person and leas of all a christian but there is a saying that is very true and on topic here: Hate the sin, not the sinner.

The reason that the murders in Tel Aviv moves us is that the victims were so young and that Tel Avivi supposedly is a very gay friendly city. But let's not forget the hatefull violence that ocurs every day all over the world. As an example: I read a report last week that a trans person is killed every third day.

So back to the question - what can we do to stop the hate?