Raggedy Tranny, broken doll child star, fashion icon and gothic high priestess, died April 5, 2009, in San Francisco. She was seven (in doll years). A self-proclaimed ambassador from the world of dolls, Raggedy Tranny encouraged others to remember the pretend play of their childhood and to restore dolls and toys to a place of prominence in their lives. She often spoke movingly on behalf of broken dolls and toys.
Birthed in May 2001 in the Goat Boutique at the Short Mountain Sanctuary in Tennessee under the rising sign of Capricorn, Raggedy Tranny sprang forth fully-actualized wearing black eyeliner, red and white candycane stockings, silver space boots and an extremely small T-shirt emblazoned with an image of Nala from "The Lion King." Copious amounts of red yarn spilled from the fly of her black vinyl go-go shorts. As she stumbled out of the barn like a newborn calf, she proclaimed, “I am Raggedy Ann from the year 2020!” Nearby, a queen rolled her eyes and snapped, “You're not Raggedy Annie, honey. You're Raggedy Tranny!” The queen tilted her head back, cackled with delight at her perceived cleverness, and withdrew under her parasol. Raggedy Tranny did not hear the queen's derisive laughter, however, because she was listening to the angelic music in her name. It filled her with power and pride. She knew her complicated raggedness; she knew that she was male and female and neither. She embraced all this.
In her essay, “All Magick is Doll Magick,” Ms Tranny wrote, “Playing with dolls is a revolutionary act. It involves taking established forms and filling them with new ideas. Fantasy play allows us to transcend established boundaries relating to gender, race and sexuality because dolls are constructs which invite deconstruction. These so-called inanimate objects become vessels for spirit. We imbue them with a divine spark of life. And just as we are dolls for the Gods, we are also Gods to our dolls. When you choose to believe that you are never too old to make believe, you unleash the power of your divine spirit. You reclaim the time when you imbued a small form with your essence. You remember the changes you made on a microcosmic scale to influence the larger world. This invokes a chain reaction towards healing our beginnings. We acknowledge ourselves as the Gods and Goddesses we already are, broken dolls no more, toys forgotten never again. We relearn the freedom of children in our imagination.... I am not so much concerned with what form you inhabit in this world, as I am concerned with what it is you fill your form with.”*
Raggedy Tranny was angry with those she saw as having abandoned their childhood imaginations, and this rage propelled her to take social risks disguised as performance. In person, she was often caustic and domineering. On stage, her outbursts became entertaining and motivational. Her first performance occurred in 2001 when she stole STORM's diary and read extremely personal entries to everyone assembled for B's birthday celebration. The following year she and C@ presented Doll Theater at the Agape Queer Youth Workshop at Kirkridge Retreat Center in Pennsylvania.They became frequent doll theater collaborators. Together they rescued hundreds of discarded and broken dolls.
Ms Tranny is best remembered for channeling the Air/East aspect of the opening Beltaine ritual at Short Mountain Sanctuary in 2004 (that year, her signature black, white and red ensemble was exchanged for a pink Grecian gown embellished with fuchsia flowers and mint green leaves); and for reminding revelers there in 2006, “You come to this mountain to make magick, but there is also magick waiting for you back home. It exists in the dark corners where you left your childhood toys. It lives under your bed, in your closets and in your keepsake boxes. It waits for you in your imagination. Go clean your room!” (She was dressed that year in a silver lamé nun's habit with a string of ox bone skulls.) San Francisco audiences will remember her for her antics, dancing at the Roxy Theater for Crash Cabaret and reading more excerpts of STORM's diaries for the finale performance of Calypso & STORM's writer's workshop, “Exile & the Self.” In May of 2008, Ms Tranny participated in a Style War. Dressed by Lisa Martin in a black corset and faux fur wrap, she brandished red chopsticks as claws as she fought with a team of Goth Fashionistas versus flower wearing Hippies.** Afterwards, she engaged a rebel band of Punk Anarchist boys in a game of capture the flag, earning the respect and camaraderie of two of their band. Later that day, she was seen at a sake tasting wearing the skull of Sassy, beloved goat SMS community member. This was her last public appearance. It is worth noting that Raggedy Tranny's life both began and ended in association with a goat totem.
After Raggedy Tranny returned to San Francisco, she was seen once again stomping her six-inch stacks in the darkest corners of the city's streets, reveling in its decay. She used her anger as fuel but it did not warm her, so she opened herself up to any experience that came her way. She screamed at anyone who would listen about the plight of broken dolls, but since it was apparent that she was not taking responsibility for her own healing, she was ignored. She had not learned to love herself, and she let her divine essence be diluted, fed upon and depleted by those who did not have her best interests at heart.
The final blow came, it is told, when Saturn, Godplanet of responsibility, came calling. Leaning upon his scythe, he explained that he was investigating the evolution of Radical Faeries, specifically in regard to their turning 30, and needed to talk with her. At the corner of Turk and Polk Streets, he asked her what she had learned in her brief lifetime. “Have you overcome your obstacles and hardships through patience and integrity?” he asked, “Have you accepted responsibility for your own self-discipline? Have you realized your potential through perseverance and tenacity?” Raggedy Tranny, it is said, could not bring herself to look at Saturn. She shook her head, her dredded pink locks falling around her shoulders. That was all the answer that the Godplanet needed. He swung his scythe high into the air. When he brought it down again, the broken doll Raggedy Tranny was no more. Saturn, sensing that Raggedy Tranny's spirit was still departing, held out his scythe to the city of San Francisco and said, “The effort you exert to triumph over your obstacles is its own reward because effort builds character. What you learn under my influence stays with you forever. I am destiny. I am the things you cannot escape. We all must make payment for what we receive.” Ms Tranny's spirit resides at the Memorial Grove of Short Mountain Sanctuary.
Raggedy Tranny is survived by her mothers, STORM and Rio Corazon, and her daughter, Tragedy Ann, a doll medium who also channels her mother's spirit.*** When asked about her mother's death, Tragedy Ann replied, “My mother is dead. I need a new home. Please buy me.” Those interested in purchasing Tragedy Ann may place their bids at this link: http://tinyurl.com/d9h684
It is a testament to her strong will (some might say stubbornness) that Raggedy Tranny was such a strong force for change. She demanded that we listen to the sometimes subtle voices in the world around us and in ourselves. “Enough!” she cried, “Let us reclaim our power! We are all vessels for the divine! What are we going to do about it?” Dolls and transgender individuals everywhere are indebted to the awareness she raised. She was forthright, fiery, and fearless.
*This essay was found tucked away in one of STORM's journals. It is not dated, but it is believed to be the last piece Raggedy Tranny wrote before she left this world.
**Video of the Style War can be seen here: http://tinyurl.com/c6ttdw
***Her assistance in mediating Raggedy Tranny's spirit for this obituary was invaluable.
STORM is a San Francisco-based writer, artist, doll shaman & oracle. He is currently working on Princess Witch Boy, a fantasy memoir graphic novel. Please visit stormantic.com for more information.
