When I was a kid, I thought "Don't Tread On Me" meant something very different.
I would say it with pride, thinking that it meant "mind your business". I thought it was the belief that people should be left alone to live as they please, that everyone is just trying to live and won't bother you if you don't hurt them.
I mean, doesn't that make more sense? A rattlesnake doesn't bite a person unless its trying to defend itself. A rattlesnake doesn't bite unless it thinks you are going to kill it for the crime of being alive.
I met a rattlesnake today.
A gorgeous, massive animal, crossing my driveway.
Of course, I knew that rattlesnakes didn't want to bite people or dogs, that they just wanted to be left alone and he had likely been here for years without incident.
But I also knew what happens to rattlesnakes around these parts.
I know he would be killed on sight if the neighbors saw him, because he was a snake, and they were afraid.
They didn't know that snakes rarely bite people, as few as 7,000 people in the entire united states are bitten by snakes. Around 5 of those people die from the snake bite.
It doesn't matter to them that the snake was born here, grew up here, that its people have been here for generations. The snake has the slightest, most miniscule chance of hurting their children, their pets.
My own father came with a gun, scared it into the bushes while I was on the phone with a snake relocator.
I told him I was handling it, that I had a professional on the phone, that he didnt have to kill the snake because he was afraid.
"Think of the children" he told me, his transgender son.
"I'm not a bad person, I don't want to kill anything, but we have to protect ourselves."
I don't think anyone should have the right to take a life because they are afraid.
It was only a few days ago that we went to dinner for my birthday. I told him on the drive there that I think more people are afraid than they are hateful. That people hate me because they don't understand me, my gender identity, my sexuality. They are afraid because I am something different and new. I told him how I've taught multiple people over the years that a trans person is just a person, not some terrible threat after your kids.
I told him how I have to be patient, how I have to walk on eggshells and meet vitriol with understanding, lest I prove them right.
I must tear out my fangs so that, when they tread on me, I don't prove them right.
I'm harmless, see? I rolled over. Please stop kicking me. I promise I won't bite. I don't care about your children, I just want to live.
I told him I'm exhausted. That I shouldn't have to live like this.
He told me the snake has to die.
It hid in the bushes as he tried to convince me to kill it. He cussed and left when it got away.
I stood beside the bush for 45 minutes, being bitten by mosquitos, making sure it stayed there so they could take it somewhere safe, far away from the neighbors who would kill it for being alive.
The bathroom is always a terrifying experience for me. If I go into the women's room, they will see my stubble and scream, because I am a man. If I go into the men's room, they will see my breasts and know immediately that I'm not like them.
I happen to live in the same town as the first trump store in the United States.
Snakes don't belong around good people like us. Sure, they've always been here, but we can't have those kinds of influences around our children. It's unnatural, perverted.
They have fangs, you know. They can hurt us if they want to. I shouldn't have to put up with seeing a snake when I walk into my yard. If they wanted to live, they should've hid it better.
Sometimes they leave a dead fish in front of the only gay bar for a three hour radius. The cops come by pretty often. They don't move the fish.
Are you scared of your father?
Does the idea that he would kill something out of fear make you sick? That, no matter how many times you tell him that it's safe, that you are handling it, that you, the snake, and him can all live, he came at it with a gun?
How far would he go to protect the children?
Would he attack a person in the bathroom if that person had both stubble and breasts?
The snake has to die, or it has to leave.
The relocator found the snake hidden in the bush where it hid from my father. He scooped it up in less than a minute, and the threat was contained.
"See how harmless he is?" I beg my father. "Isn't he gorgeous? Those striking patterns, the keeled scales. He just wants to live. He just wants to live."
"I'm just glad its getting away from here. We can't have something like that near us."
The snake will be relocated 8 miles east.
I'm moving to Oregon next month.
Explore the Free Snake Relocation directory to find safe, humane, volunteer-based snake removal services. Browse tools, maps, and educationa
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