OLLIE SCHMINKEY

poet. musician. artist.

AUTHOR OF DEAD DAD JOKES AND WHERE I DRY THE FLOWERS

Newsletter #2

Welcome to the second newsletter! If you missed my first one, you can check it out here: https://www.ollieschminkey.com/newsletter-1

Me out enjoying nature with my new flat chest!

I’ve been spending the last month and a half healing from top surgery, which has come with many emotions-- if you’d like to hear more about my experience, I’ve included some thoughts/feelings/ramblings at the end of this newsletter.

WHAT’S NEW
30 Poems in 30 Days

April is National Poetry Month! In this class, you’ll get 30 tailored prompts and write a poem every day of April. This class is a great fit for you if you want to write more (whether for pleasure or for a project), connect with community, and push yourself to explore new types of poems. You’ll also get hands-on support from me as your instructor, and some poetry feedback as well. All of my classes are designed for both experienced and beginner poets, and my classes have a very fun and encouraging atmosphere!

You can register here: https://writers.com/course/30-poems-in-30-days

Midwest Poetry Mash-Up Tickets are Now Live!
April 25th-26th at Open Book in Minneapolis, MN

Mark your calendars! 

Three years ago, I created a slam poetry tournament after the closure of CUPSI (the national collegiate slam poetry tournament that helped me and so many others to start their careers and find community). I really wanted any college students that wanted to do slam to have a tournament to go to, and so poets across the country could still access some of those networking and community opportunities that national competitions used to offer poets. 

Now, several years later, I’ve got several friends helping me organize (thanks, Zach and Tanesha!), and Midwest Poetry Mash-Up has grown into an (inter)national tournament with both college and adult competitors. Although I’m probably biased, I think this year might be the best one yet!

Tickets are now LIVE for the third Midwest Poetry Mash-Up! We're going BIG this year: larger venue, twice as many teams than we had in 2023, more opportunities for you to cheer on your favorite poets (or decide their fate should you be lucky enough to judge), and CHEAPER tickets than ever before! Get yours today so you can watch poets from all over the country compete for fame, glory, and a cash-prize over two days and 5 jam-packed bouts! Single event tickets* and full weekend passes available at https://tinyurl.com/mashup25tix

*Please note that tickets are divided into individual bouts (events) and make sure you select a ticket for the specific bout(s) you want to attend. If you want to attend all events, purchase a full weekend pass. Tickets are non-transferable and non-refundable. 

Questions? Email midwestpoetrymashup@gmail.com

This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Metropolitan Regional Arts Council, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.

PROMPT

Here’s a prompt, if you feel like writing!

POEM

I’m working on poetry book about top surgery! Here’s an exclusive sneak peek into the manuscript, as a thank-you for subscribing to my newsletter. I watched a bunch of stuff about trans people while I was healing, including Will & Harper, which absolutely made me ball my eyes out (and totally changed how I think about Will Farrell).

PETE

Pete has been incredibly helpful to my healing process— providing lots and lots of cuddles!

OLLIE’S THOUGHT CORNER

This past month has brought with it some extremes. I got top surgery just a few days after Trump signed those executive orders, some of which came with huge anti-trans sentiment and consequences. Not to mention that Iowa just removed gender identity from its civil rights code, making it the first state to stop protecting a group of previously protected people. There is so much hatred coming for trans people right now, and it’s really overwhelming and scary. 

As a non-binary person, I’m kind of used to transphobia showing up for me personally largely as erasure; which, in my life, has mostly been annoying and disheartening (and resulting in a years-long depression in college). This isn’t to say that erasure isn’t harmful; it’s definitely given me a mental health crisis or two. It’s just to say, that now in my 30s, I feel like I’ve come to terms with it in my own life. Cashiers will always “ma’am” me, internet strangers will always send me weird and mean messages, but I have a really solid community of people who see me for who I am, and who honor and celebrate me because of it. Besides, when I came out, I never would have guessed that non-binary people would be on TV, in movies, and be famous comedians with Netflix specials (shoutout Mae Martin). So, in that sense, despite all of the bullshit, I still feel incredibly lucky; public acknowledgement of non-binary people has already exceeded my wildest expectations. But the flip side of visibility is that now, people can see me, and that’s been feeling like a scary thing lately.

Post top surgery, it feels very strange to be marked now as physically “trans” during a particularly blatant anti-trans political landscape. For better or for worse, I’m used to erasure and invisibility providing a sense of safety for me, and now that safety feels tenuous. For the first time in my life, being transgender is on my medical records (I kept it off for the last decade out of fear of medical discrimination, but I needed to be officially diagnosed with gender dysphoria in order for insurance to cover my surgery). I personally don’t think any sort of medical transition is necessary for someone to be transgender, and I waited ten years (10 years!!) after coming out as trans to decide that top surgery was the right choice for me. But now, anyone could look at me and “tell.” Someone could know I’m trans without me telling them I’m trans, and this is new for me. (Not that I was exactly hiding it; I think any queer person would know instantly anyway, boobs or not).  I know that this public visibility is the reality for a lot of trans people, and has been for a long time, and I look forward to learning from them how to be more resilient when it comes to this. But I don’t think I was prepared to have new feelings about my gender a decade after coming out, and it’s taking me a moment to sift through them. 

While healing from top surgery has been more emotionally and physically difficult in some ways than I expected, the euphoria I feel with my new body is immense. The amount of community support I’ve felt is incredible. I’ve gotten to eat dozens of amazing dishes brought to me by friends and loved ones (who have turned out to be awesome cooks). I’ve felt so loved and cherished during this vulnerable time in my life, and I feel deeply grateful. 

There’s no tidy sum-up here, except perhaps to say that I’m moving into this next part of my life trying to honor each emotion, “good” or “bad.” Everything about life is nuanced, and I’m capable of holding joy and fear in the same moment. The changes I’ve made to my body represent both the fear of being seen, and the joy of being seen. And as I end this bit of rambling, I am feeling overwhelmed with the joy-- what a gift to be here, with you. 

Love,

Ollie