Keystone Conference 2013 in Two Stories

The Fifth Annual Keystone Conference was held at the Sheraton Harrisburg from March 14-16, 2013.  Early estimates place attendance around 600.  If I were a betting woman, I’d take the “over” on that wager. The conference sold out the Sheraton and three other neighboring hotels.

Speakers included Kye Allums, Jennifer Finney Boylan, Mara Keisling, and Dr. Jillian Weiss.

These are the facts of the case, and they are not in dispute.

I went out early, arriving on Tuesday, March 12.  I checked into my room, and quickly shed my drab skin.  Then, the Dog and Pony Bar for lunch and renew old friendships with the staff.  Yes you read that correctly — the Staff.  The staff of the hotel for the most part have worked there for years, and are so friendly and accommodating.  One of the bar managers saw me walk into the bar and shouted my name.  “Sophie!  I’m so glad you made it!”

She remembered me from a full year ago, and recognized me despite the lost weight. Having worked hospitality, I know how amazing it is that she remembered.  So I either made an impression, or she’s amazing at what she does.

Me? An impression?  Say it isn’t so.

Anyway, the staff welcomes the Trans community openly, even embraces us.  The beverage manager told me that this is the one convention that everyone looks forward to working — that no one calls out sick, and they even volunteer extra hours to be here.

That night, I helped stuff and alphabetize convention packets.  Also had some drinks, but not many.  It was a long week, and my budget was tight.

Wednesday was more prep, and some adventures. More people arrived, and I met some wonderful people, including Facebook friends and folks who read this column and my blog.  The hotel filled and excitement built. Vendors arrived, including Cassandra Storm photography and Amanda Richards with True Colors Makeup Artistry.

Last year, I said Keystone was a Tango — a dance of Love.  And I maintain that as true.  And I could bore you with the minutia of the day to day sessions, encounters in the Dog and Pony Bar, or the events out and about in Harrisburg.  I could, but I won’t.  Instead, I’ll tell the Keystone Conference story through the stories of two people who I met this year.  I’m changing their names to keep their identities safe.

I meet Miranda my first night there, on Tuesday. She had the room next to mine and opened the door as I was walking by. I was dressed, but she was in drab. I saw a person in their late fifties, maybe five foot six with tired eyes, graying hair, and a battered ball cap. I smiled and said “hi.”

The person’s eyes lit up, and they said “Are you with the Conference?” I said that I was.

She was one of us — here only for a couple nights.  She would leave Wednesday night for work in Baltimore.

She had never been outside her hotel room as Miranda — ever.

We spoke briefly, and I invited the person to the bar for a drink (as I was going to get lunch.) Turns out she reads my blog. In the bar, Miranda told me her story. Like many of us, she’d been dressing since a young age. In her case, she traveled a lot on business, so brought a few girl things along and would dress in her room.

“More of a hobby, really” she said.

At the bar, I introduced her to a few people. We talked about those awful, terrible frightening first steps out the door. I told her about mine. She smiled sadly. After we ate, she disappeared. I told her I’d be in the bar later as well. I walked back to my room, and as I walked past hers, the door cracked open.

“Sophie?”

“Yes?”

“Could you knock on my door in ten minutes?”

And I did. The woman who answered the door was petite with a cute black bob and wearing a black top with jeans. She wore very modest heels. Her eyes showed none of the sadness I saw earlier. Here was a happy, vibrant, alive woman. I complimented her and her appearance. A few minutes  later she walked out the hotel room door, and we spent much of the night in the bar, with Miranda meeting people, smiling and laughing.

The next night, Miranda had an appointment with Amanda Richards. She was going to Carabba’s for dinner with fifty other girls. I’d changed my reservation to a different place, as I’d heard good things about it. I saw Miranda in Amanda’s chair, being made beautiful for her dinner. She was beaming. She’d never before had a makeover.

I’m told she had a great time at the restaurant. And she was gone before dawn the next morning — her Keystone experience over. I’ll never forget her smile as she sat in Amanda’s chair.

Henry was in his early thirties, and was one of the growing numbers of trans-men attending Keystone. He is a sharp dresser, slim, maybe five seven, with gelled blond hair. He spoke with an accent slightly flavored by the Heartland.

Henry was quite popular at the conference, as he was a member of the staff. He was everywhere — opening doors for ladies, smiling, laughing, and moving among others with an easy confidence. On Thursday night, I encountered a spot of difficulty in the bar with a rather aggressive admirer. Before I had a chance to react, Henry and another trans-man were between the offender and myself. The other guy was in the man’s face as Henry gently escorted me through the nearby bar door. Outside in the lobby, I steadied myself on my heels, staggered a bit, and thanked him for his courtesy. I told him I could handle myself. He smiled, and reminded me that not only was I drunk, but I was wearing heels which were not suited to a bar fight. He then offered his arm, and escorted me back to my room, where I plopped into the bed safely.

Henry and I drank together several times, as well as sharing dinner at the gala. He is bright man who is very happy in his skin.He told me of coming out to his parents and of his trials. His enthusiasm for life was infectious, and he made me laugh a lot.

I saw him last this morning as I was leaving the hotel. I was a battered person in drab, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He was smiling, perfectly stylish, and well groomed. I hugged him goodbye.

Two people — two very different experiences. Two parts of the Dance that was Keystone Conference 2013. Over 498 others had similar dances and wildly different stories. The conference is over now for another year. Next year, they have the entire hotel.

When Keystone ended last year, I was still a frightened person, clinging to lies and praying for hope. This year, I am so different. My wife knows about me. I am on hormones. I’ve lost weight, and dramatically cut down my drinking. I have grown as a person and as a Woman.

Keystone grew as well. More programs. More dealers. More Stories.

More Lives Changed.

Where will I be as a woman when I attend the next Keystone Conference? That’s hard to say. But I WILL be there. And like this year, lives will change. Especially my own.

Tags: conference, crossdressing, featured, Identity, Out & About, Transition

Category: Transgender Community News