By Brenne Sheehan & Max Dickman
Beyond alienation, trans women have never been granted access to their own body. We have been denied the privilege of holding our own bodies, the vessels that shell our stories, our individuality, and our love.
We see our bodies mutilated, both in images and via perverted discourse.
Our bodies are battlegrounds, constantly evaluated, discerned in their compliance to a male definition of womanhood.
Long have we been raped. Long have we been framed. Long have we been denied access to being part of the greater sisterhood called “women.”
We see, and are attacked by, the female and those like her. We are reminded of the “real women,” the Lilys and Margots, that we will never be. She is plastered all over the façade of our great American culture.
To trans women, having a body means violence— fauna facing the predator.
But I call on you to see me, to see my body.
The body that I own, the body that carries me. Because while our bodies have been used to bring us our own demise, I spitefully force you to remember the agency a woman’s body can have.
To see me as a man or to see me as a woman is irrelevant. Until you see me as the rapid that carries the water onward, I will continue to make space for and utilize
this body.
This collection of four mixed-media collages strives to be jarring and uncomfortable in its beauty. A diptych of experiences—with still photos by Max Dickman and surrounding violence of feminine pop culture iconography—the pieces strive to showcase a political battleground that is the transgender body.
Brenne Sheehan (she/her) ‘27 is a digital journalism major. A pre-law student with a focus in applied data analytics and cybersecurity, her passion for writing, photography and other forms of multimedia extends into almost every aspect of her life.
