As Pride Month’s celebrations come to a close, it’s important to remember the trailblazers who made these celebrations possible. Blood in Her Dreams, the new album from Shawna Virago reminds us of the adversity the LGBTQ+ community has faced to acquire a month of their own. This artfully crafted long player reminds its audience of both the beauty of being queer, as well as the rich and sometimes unsavory history transgender folks have endured.
Lyrically inspired by San Francisco’s trans environments of the 80s and 90s, the album tries to capture a world that is now lost. A powerful testimony to Virago’s story, listeners get a glimpse into the trials and tribulations of being one of America’s first openly transgender musical artists.
Feeling “genderedly” different from an early age, Virago (she/her/they/them) came out to her friends in the 1980s, then again around 1990, living openly as a trans individual ever since. Virago’s uncle, a “classical music nerd” with an extensive vinyl collection, exposed them to music at an early age. From there, Virago’s musical journey ignited. Playing the guitar solo and in bands by the time she was 14, she eventually decided to pursue music as a solo acoustic artist.
Virago’s personal journey is embedded into the album. Much of the album is written about the pre-internet queer/trans world in which Virago came of age. They discuss how the trans world was very small and un-embraced by other communities at the time. Virago was usually the only out trans person when playing at bars or clubs. Just leaving the house and getting on a bus was a struggle.
“Walking down the sidewalk was a challenge, getting hassled, getting harassed, getting pushed up against police cars, these types of things, trying to find employment and not getting hired because of being trans, street violence being trans, also playing shows and people more focused on my gender, maybe they’d want to ask me about my gender versus asking me about my songs,” Virago says.
In their isolated community, Virago found guidance and friendship among the older trans women. “I remember when I met her (referring to one of the women), one of the first questions she asked me was, how are (your) street fighting skills? And so I think that question, what’s behind it, being exposed to it, says a lot about what it meant to be out at the time.” Blood in Her Dreams is a homage to these powerful and kickass older trans women who trickle throughout the songs. These important figures from Virago’s past are written into songs such as Last Girl, Chapter 1. The song mentions queer bars in San Francisco, now long gone.
“Just having these older mentors just gave me an edge and a way to survive,” says Virago. “I will say it is strange to still be around. When I go out to trans or queer spaces, usually, none of my friends I knew are there anymore. They’re not around. They’re not on Earth. And so there are people who never saw this sort of change, where we started to get allies and we started to have opportunities. I had a trans guy talking about his musical dreams and ambitions in the early 2000s, and I thought, ‘How strange that a trans person has ambition.’ That did not seem possible. Really, you’re just trying to make sure you paid your rent. That was the ambition. So those things are all on the record, if not directly, but informing, kind of, the consciousness of the album.”
The title Blood in Her Dreams is an attempt to make sense of the anger oscillating throughout this country and the loneliness it wields. Those who have acted upon their anger, Virago feels, seem to be predominantly cisgender and white. “They feel entitled to having different lives, but they don’t have an articulate vision of why they should, and take it out on other communities and attack us. It’s a strange phenomenon,” Virago says.
They mentioned how this stems from a place of ignorance, of not understanding human history, as gender nonconforming people have always been around as long as there have been humans. And they always will. “Queers, trans people, we cannot be destroyed. We are so resilient. We always find a way. That was true when I first moved (to San Francisco), when I first came out, and that’s still true.” With the appalling amount of anti-trans bills being presented, the world seems to have hit a new low. “The forces arrayed against liberation will go lower. And we just have to not give up. We will win.”
Appreciative of the privilege of having a voice in the ongoing fight for visibility, she discussed how “We need our empowered voices as queers and as trans people to be out there. And I do think also an important thing is trying to show alternative forms of culture against the dominant narratives, against the kind of narratives of hate. It seems that a huge portion of the country is out to destroy us, and then we have this other huge part of our culture, of people who actually support us and are also committed to fighting for trans rights,” Virago says.
However, according to Virago, we now live in a time in which trans folks can write their own stories from their own perspectives. “There’s this tradition in literature and music of cisgender people getting a lot of mileage writing about trans lives.” While that has been important, it is exciting and powerful that we can now tell our own stories across all communities to bring about change. Music is one way to express our unique narratives.
Through her music, Virago hopes she is raising her voice to create an alternative narrative, one which contests the hate-filled ones the LGBTQ+ community often endures. As Virago expressed, we can articulate emotions into things that reflect the ongoing battle of which we are all part.
“(Music) might be the most powerful and magical force on earth for human beings. We cannot change culture without music,” Virago says. Blood in Her Dreams exemplifies the complex struggle toward acceptance. Virago envisions a new future in which “we’re able to appreciate difference and not attack difference.” Virago exemplifies the need to share our stories, musically or otherwise, stay resilient, and push back against opposing forces. Through reflection and action, we can and will turn the tides and create a world that honors difference.
Photo courtesy of Shawna Virago
