Only a Pawn in their Game

When suffering false accusations and a wrongful conviction that were clearly transphobic in nature, I felt like I was subjected to a witch hunt. Like the Salem's witch hunt of old, I saw the bulk of the culpability in the court officials who should have known better.

As a Bob Dylan fan, one of his songs came aptly to mind. When civil rights leader Medgar Evers was assassinated, Dylan saw the instigators being played by the powers-that-be. Taking liberty with his lyric on that event, I echo that same theme in what happened to me.

After all, the young girl who started this all was merely a pawn in their game.

Only a Pawn in their Game

A falsehood from the mouth of a child

took my daddy’s life.

A finger stained the innocence of his name.

A self-serving lie

She gave with a cry

In a tragic reply

To keep her from shame.

But she can’t be blamed.

She’s only a pawn in their game.

Her bigoted father demands

my dad be in jail.

“That crossdressing freak is a fag, it is plain.

Anyone dressed with such nerve must be some perv and insane.”

And the trans panic claim

Is used it is plain

Where fear is to remain

To keep us all tame

And never question again

Their authority claim.

So her father ain’t to blame.

He’s only a pawn in their game.

The police, detectives, and prosecutors

all fall into play.

And the judge and the press get their say.

But the jurors’ minds get played in the hands of them all like a fool.

Their taught in their schools

To submit to the rules.

That the courts all play fair.

That mistakes remain rare.

That the accused will all lie,

Their pleas they should deny.

That convicting is their aim.

So they can’t be blamed

If they’re only a pawn in their game.

In their prison shacks, Dad peers back

through cracks of some cell.

As our time spent apart fills with pain.

Yet we’re taught how to walk in a pack,

To never look back

At the father we lacked,

Accused of some attack,

As unproven fact

Without proof of a claim

For how Dad was framed.

So who can we blame?

We’re all just pawns in their game.

Today, my dad’s home at last

but unemployed.

Dad is the convict others avoid.

But now the young child I once reviled

Is now grown and in jail.

It’s another sad tale.

Of a system we fail.

Now she’s also defamed.

So again she became

Only a pawn in their game.

Steph is a self-described transspirit, which is a kind of sacred misfit. By transcending conventional limits—gender norms, religious identities, political polarities, and more—Steph experiences a unique connection in life. And suspects others do as well. This blog shares that spirituality, and affirms others of a similar state of being.

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