Marcy

Let’s meet a woman. Let’s say this woman’s name is … Marcy.

Let’s say Marcy is an accomplished sniper, with multiple successful deployments in both Iraq and Afghanistan.

Marcy woke up this morning at the same standard time as everyone else. There were schedules and protocols to be followed, and anyone who lagged behind was at grounds for suspension and withdrawal of food rights.

Marcy went into the mess hall, expecting to eat the cafeteria glop, only to find her C.O and several of her fellow officers gathered around.

“Got some bad news for you,” her C.O said. “There’s … no good way to tell you this. Pack your bags. You’re going home.”

“What?” Marcy asked. “Why? Am I – am I being discharged? I’m not ready to retire.”

“You’re not … being discharged,” her C.O said. “You just … can’t serve anymore.”

“What? Why not?”

Her C.O looked at her for a long time before bringing himself to answer.

“Because the President just said you can’t,” her C.O told her.

 

 

And for hundreds, if not thousands of trans people, Marcy isn’t a story. Marcy is their life now.

 

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