The picnic, and why I’m no longer hosting it
I used to love hosting the San Francisco Trans Ladies’ Picnic.
I went to one of these picnics in the Fall of 2013, hosted by a friend. I thought it was great to have a place where trans / CAMAB people could congregate, chat, and generally have fun. I connected with many other trans women by hosting the picnic, and hope that those who attended have made worthwhile connections as well.
Even though it was supposed to be B.Y.O.B., and there were some people who did, I usually did the organizing, bought food, and brought the food, but this was a small price to pay for community building, and since I was making decent money at the time, I didn’t mind this expense at all.
I hosted my first picnic on April 20, 2014, in Dolores Park. It was both Easter AND 4/20, so this made for an interesting experience. The picnic was a success, and as soon as April’s picnic was over, I created a Facebook event for May’s event.
The May event was equally fun, and by the time the June picnic (during Trans March) was planned, I was super psyched.
Everything went well, until one particular person showed up. As soon as this person (who I shall call #1) sat down, every incredibly loud sentence out of their mouth was either about killing cis people, or about how they were sexually abused.
This talk made all of the attendees incredibly uncomfortable, including myself. Luckily, after a while, #1 went elsewhere, and the rest of the day was pleasant. Later on, #1 friended me on Facebook, and I accepted because I felt sorry for them.
A few months passed, and I heard nothing from #1. However, #1′s practice of tagging me, in Facebook photos that I’m not in, irritated me greatly, so I unfriended them. I would directly have asked them to stop, but I decided that I really didn’t want to engage #1 in any way.
I continued to host the picnic monthly, including a relatively unsuccessful run at a coffee shop during the winter months. March of 2015 eventually rolled around, and I took a trip to Portland, OR for a few days.
As I was leaving Portland, #1 attempted to friend me again. Once again, I felt sorry for them, and accepted the friend request. I was incredibly happy, though, that they were in Portland and that I was in San Francisco, so I wouldn’t have to engage this person.
As luck would have it, #1 moved back to the Bay Area a few weeks later, and also started tagging me in their photos once again. This time, though, I simply quietly removed any tags, and went on with my day.
Soon, a group of trans women were on a crusade against the leather establishments of Soma, for their exclusion of trans women. They would carry on this crusade by going to these bars, and antagonizing anyone who came across their path whose behaviour or action they did not agree with. I was behind their idea of a collective, which included people #2 and #3, but didn’t want any part in the antagonism.
The members of the collective were soon attending the picnic, which made other attendees a bit uneasy, but I didn’t want to tell anyone how to conduct their lives, even if I didn’t agree with their methods.
As the weather became warmer, #1 once again started to show up at picnics. I knew that they were disturbing the other picnicgoers, but this time I didn’t want to engage #1 for fear of violent behaviour against me.
At the same time, I had a friend, #4. I had found out through the grapevine that #4 and #5 were dating, #5 had accused #4 of sexual assault, and had told #4 not to attend the picnic, none of which I learned about until after the fact. I then decided that, to cool things down a bit because it sounded like there’d be a picnic fist fight, I asked that neither #4 nor #5 attend that month. Both said that they understood.
When #1 arrived, it was very similar to the incident of the June before, and a few people started to move away from them. A cis man walked over to the picnic, said hello for some odd reason, and mistakenly misgendered #1. I was trying to politely tell the guy to leave, but before that could happen, #1 chased the guy out of the park. When they returned, they said “I should have gotten out my knife”.
Immediately after that, the picnic was over because most of the people left. Later on, five separate people told me that, if #1 was attending, they would not attend, because they no longer felt safe at the picnic. #2 witnessed what happened, also went home, texted me and asked if I wanted to talk about it. We did so, and tried to create some ground rules about asking those who were being violent in these spaces to not do so, or be asked to leave.
As soon as some folks found out what was being proposed, #5, a person we’ll call #6, and another we’ll call #7, took me to task for trying to take these steps to avoid violence. Let me be clear: I DID NOT EVER WANT TO PERMANENTLY EXCLUDE ANYONE from the picnics, but wanted to take steps to ensure that everyone felt safe. #1, whose violent behavior was scaring away most of the picnic attendees, is on the autism spectrum. Therefore, the people who took me to task claimed that I was then being an ableist, for what I thought was my trying to make things better for everyone. #6 and I had a disagreement, but settled it like adults. #7 was a complete and total asshole, and basically shouted me down until their way of how they thought things should be was implemented by me. They threatened to post our conversations, and I relented, not because I felt guilty, but because I spent all day bickering with bullies, and I didn’t want any more of it. To this day, I do not care if they post what I said. In fact, I invite it.
I also got a random angry text from #3 (of the collective), who took everything they heard about me out of context, and told me that I was a horrible person whom they didn’t feel safe around. I retorted with “Well, I don’t feel safe around you either, so…”.
The number of attendees at the SF Picnic soon dwindled down. I moved the picnic to Duboce Park for a change of scenery, and because the park rangers post-Northern-Dolores-Park-opening were being downright Draconian.
A few new people showed up, but none of the old people who were scared of #1 did. The last picnic had just four attendees, myself included. I simply didn’t make a new Facebook event for the next month, and it was over.
I unfriended #1 recently, because I mistakenly invited them to my birthday event, and they replied that they were going. I uninvited them, unfriended them, and moved the event to a new venue just to avoid them. When they found out about the unfriending, they verbally attacked me on Facebook, and also called me ableist and misogynistic.
I honestly think that half the people didn’t want to come back because they didn’t feel safe, and the other half didn’t want to attend because they got it into their heads that I’m an ableist fuckhead.
And that’s how the best of intentions can kill a good thing. The picnic brought a sense of joy into my life, and I thought that I was doing something good for our community. All I wanted to do was create a space for people to come together, and instead, the space dwindled down to nothing, and I was even vilified by some. But I did as I always do… the best I could with what I had.