Charlotte Makes Photos

With one exception¹, when there is an election being held, Kathleen and I like to vote in the advance polls. While we consider it important to do our civic duty, we also don’t like the prospect of having to wait in a long line — usually outside — to vote, and so long as the advance polls are convenient, we choose one of the days in the usually three-or-four days two-or-three weeks before the election date to make our choices.

As is the case with all municipalities in the province, elections for mayor (at-large), council (ward), and school board (zone) are being held near the end of October, and advance polls were being held at City Hall October 1-4, so we chose Saturday.

So after breakfast and getting ready to greet the day, we walked the two blocks to City Hall, passed through the security check (who graciously hand-checked my film so the scanner wouldn’t damage it), and were greeted by election staff to check in.

One nice thing is that it was the first election held since I had changed my name and sex markers legally last Fall so there was no opportunity for an awkward interaction when my ID and registry entry don’t seem to match the person standing before them. Not that I ever had any trouble in the past: poll workers have always been unfailingly and unflinchingly lovely to me.

With our votes for mayor, councillor, and school board trustee² lodged and scanned into the tabulation machines, we set out on our little adventure.

I don’t think we were more than three blocks away from City Hall when Kathleen and I passed a man on a street corner who saw me, looked me in the eye, and started ranting about all of the heinous crimes that he felt trans women were guilty of. I don’t need to go into detail, but it was all the greatest hits that transmisogynistic individuals like to deploy amounting to a blood libel. Fortunately, he did not follow us, but did visually track me as I walked past, continuing until (or perhaps after?) I was out of earshot.

Since he didn’t follow us, it wasn’t especially rattling, but I have to admit, I don’t really enjoy the peaceful bubble of my Saturday morning adventures being punctured by someone’s accusations about how they imagine I spend my days. Shaking it off, we then continued on our way.

…and not ten minutes later, we passed a man on another sidewalk who looked me in the eye and began saying something in Arabic that didn’t seem especially kind to me and my sort. Fortunately, he too didn’t stop or attempt to follow, but with two in a row, — and combined with some very strange looks I was receiving — it was beginning to feel like I was losing an upsetting game of tic-tac-toe.

Nevertheless, buoyed by thoughts of a delicious fall spice latte (and London Fog with the citrus for Kathleen), we made our way to Arlington 5 for some tasty Fall beverages and muffins-in-lieu-of-lunch, since it was then about 11.

From there, we were on our way to the Retro and Antique Market. We’ve been to the Retro and Antique market before and had enjoyed ourselves, so it seemed like a nice weekend adventure to go on.

After browsing what the vendors had on offer, we made our choices. Kathleen found herself an ’80s houndstooth wool blazer with a colour scheme that in certain lighting says “trans rights” and I found a floral rayon skirt.

Kathleen did the right thing in trying the blazer on before purchase, while I learned once again that the Charlotte of my mind’s eye is larger than the Charlotte that occupies real space and that I would have been well-advised to try it on first.

Because then I’d have known for certain that it was destined to fall right off me and that all I’d be buying is another skirt for Kathleen to take in for me. That’s three this year.

Once we finished in the sale, I was anxious to keep making photos, so I asked Kathleen if she would be willing to keep going into Hintonburg, which she agreed to.

We continued into Hintonburg with no real goal outside of my own selfish desire to make photos. While on the way, it occurred to me that it might be nice to stop over at Parkdale Market and pick up a few things, which is exactly what we did.

Although I was thinking more dinner items, we didn’t really get any meal ideas, but Kathleen needed granola for breakfast so we stopped in at Franberry’s stall.

…and wouldn’t you know it? That meant some very delicious cookies happened to follow us home. I wonder why that always seems to happen?

We then boarded the No. 14 bus to make our way home.

While on the bus, a woman with many challenges in her life boarded the bus and sat in a seat across from Kathleen and began to strike up a conversation with her. As expected, after a few pleasantries, the woman began to outline an improbable story and asked Kathleen if she had any change.

This was, of course, expected, and we’re always happy to help, knowing full well that story is just that. Kathleen was fresh out, so asked if I had anything and I passed her a bill to help the woman. Thanking Kathleen, the woman then asked her if I was her mom!

To be certain, we do have an age gap, but that was a new one to me: being asked if I was Kathleen’s mom. Setting aside the easy and obvious answer, we were nevertheless left somewhat confused since it was really out of pocket. There were so many possibilities: I look older than I think I do, Kathleen looks younger than it seems, I look more cisgender than I think I do… the list goes on.

Of course the real answer is found in the obvious: someone whose mind is otherwise occupied with a strong pull elsewhere who just saw a young woman ask an older one beside her (that she obviously knew) for money and receiving it.

Of course, when Kathleen answered that I wasn’t her mom, but rather her partner, the woman replied “oh!”, complimented my hair and shared past bright colours hers had been, and got off at her stop.

Photo Lessons, Re-Learned

As for the photos?

*sigh*

I don’t use Ilford Ortho+ frequently enough to remember that the development times listed for DD-X end up being long, so I always end up with considerably overdeveloped negatives.

When I pulled them out of the tank it was very clear that this was the case and I would have to really work at it in the scanning process to end up with something nearer to what I was expecting.

It was only while I was scanning the second roll that I found that going as flat as possible (i.e. lowest contrast) would give me the chance to bring contrast, highlights, shadows, etc. back in editing. Since the first roll did not contain any photos I was especially pleased with (unsurprising, given the above), I did not go back and re-scan it.

1. During provincial elections, Elections Ontario places a polling station in the lobby of our apartment building. In that case, since the poll would have a reach of maybe 200 people (it’s inside the lobby), lines are not an issue and convenience wins over impatience. ↩︎
2. It is, of course, any electors’ right to vote for school board trustees. Since we do not have children, we haven’t often paid close attention to those contests and this year appeared to be no different. It also now doesn’t seem especially relevant after the province put the OSDSB (along with any other large-city board) under third-party management. However the first person who put up their hand for our zone was a person whose motivation is an animus toward trans people, raising the importance of the race. If nothing else, even with provincial control, I don’t want them to have a bully pulpit for their vituperations to be embedded in broadcast media, who will never not “both sides” everything. ↩︎