By Darius A. Gerson
After writing this piece, Darius’ fur baby Jax Gryff passed over the rainbow bridge to be with other pup angels. This piece is dedicated to him.
TransLash Media published this article on our website with the author’s permission, and in TransLash Zine Vol. 4: Migration Stories.
You wouldn’t guess it, but moving is really hard for me. As a free spirited Sagittarius, I love to travel, but moving is a lot more drastic. It feels more permanent, and before you know it, longer periods of time escape you without seeing your friends and family. Limited time and money sometimes means you never end up seeing your friends again; they either moved, or are out of town, or maybe passed on while you were away. For me, moving is always more sad than it is exciting — at least ‘til I’ve put in enough miles and I’m far enough away. Once an unfamiliar landscape starts to emerge, that’s when I start getting excited.
To be honest, in some ways I didn’t wanna move back down South, at least to my hometown. But I moved back anyway, mostly because I missed my family. Don’t get me wrong, I really missed the food … like, a lot. Not to mention the regional culture and hospitality. I definitely didn’t miss the religious fervor and the subtle (and not so subtle) displays of conservative extremism. But as things go, nowhere is utopia, so you have to pick your priorities. I chose family.
Philly to Nashville: A Life-Saving Move
Moving back to the Nashville area helped solve several problems for me. All in all, my life in Philadelphia had all but crumbled completely: no job prospects, lost some friends, little money, and bad mental health. Life had begun to become insanely hard. I felt as though I was banging my head against a brick wall and it was only a matter of time before I broke. I knew I couldn’t stay. I had gotten to the point where my mental health would barely let me take care of myself. I was fighting to get out of bed and go to work. I was doing 12 plus hour grueling barback shifts with almost nothing to show for it. I lost one job because I didn’t show up, and I was teetering with losing another because of my depressed mental state.
The only realistic option I had was to move back with my family. I would miss my friends and community I had built over five years, but I took it as a sign that timing was right. So I stayed in Philly until my top surgery was complete, and then planned to leave a few days after Halloween. I also spent some quality time with my love, who was (at the time) my ex-girlfriend. I had always planned to come back and live near my aunt and mom when they got older, and I had a nine-year-old niece and eight-year-old nephew I hadn’t even met!
How did I get to this place? Let me rewind a bit.
Darius G: The Early Years
You know the typical story: the weirdo kid that didn’t fit in; the wallflower at parties; the ghost in high school who most people didn’t notice. I always knew I was different … whatever that means. But in many ways, I was like any other typical kid. I wanted to be a veterinarian. And then a firefighter, then a doctor, and then an artist. It changed a few more times, but many of those interests remained even though I didn’t pursue all of them as a career path.
I grew up as a closeted trans kid in the Bible Belt outside of Nashville, Tennessee in a somewhat typical suburban household. One of the main atypical differences is that my mom, my sister, and I also lived with my grandparents until I became an adult. My dad lived with us ‘til I was around four years old. I have some memories of him, but only a few, because I was so young when my parents got divorced. At first, I lived next door to my grandparents, and my aunt lived behind us. But my grandparents ended up selling their place and moving in with us next door after the divorce. My grandmother and her side of the family were from California, and my grandfather, grandmother, mom, and aunt had lived out in Long Beach, California, before moving to the Nashville area. The family moved back to the South to be around my grandfather’s family when my mom and aunt were teenagers.
I had a good childhood overall, but I have a mixed bag of memories growing up queer and trans in the South.
There were many issues I faced around religion and isolation due to being different. I always questioned God and the nature of reality as a small kid: the business of religion, and the people who worship at its altar (and who don’t like questions very much).
Folks down here also hold tradition in high esteem. That can be good or bad depending on your views on the specific tradition. Christianity down here is very community-oriented, and very much a part of the tradition and culture. So if you don’t have a church, you don’t have a community.
I had some issues being a lone wolf, but it was for the best. I knew at a young age not to waste my time building community with people who wouldn’t get me. I dealt with “friends” who would outwardly or secretly judge me — friends who didn’t share my values. Flying solo wasn’t always a preference, but it wasn’t all bad either. I wanted friends and community, but I knew I’d rather have no friends than ones who didn’t share at least some of my views and interests.
Losing My Religion (And Finding Myself)
I stopped believing in God when I was around 9 years old. A lot of my interests were “weird” and didn’t fit what was being taught at church. Other kids annoyed me. As a teenager, I used to sit in my room and think about the mysteries of the universe, and listen to weird electronic and rock music. I was obsessed with death, spooky stuff, the afterlife, Halloween, comparative religion, philosophy, graffitti, and music. None of that would surprise anyone that knows me today.
I really never got discriminated against growing up, besides a few guys yelling gay slurs at me in a truck once or twice. I don’t know if that’s typical for the Nashville area in the 2000s, but I would say I was lucky either way.
What I lacked in outward discrimination, I paid for internally: feeling like a coward for not dressing like (and disclosing) my true authentic self. I probably struggled harder than the average kid. But all in all, as I got older, it made me really mentally tough. Today, I couldn’t give a flying frick about anyone else’s opinions about me. Ha!
Tennessee Living In 2021
Today, I’m generally living my best adulting life so far. I’ve gained a good career, I make more money these days, my partner and I bought a car and a house, and we adopted some dogs. Most importantly, I’ve had the support I needed from my family to get my mind right. I sometimes miss my old wild days, but I’m discovering some hidden gems in this area that have helped me to acclimate back to Nashville living.
I did make the decision to move back to my hometown for my family, but to be honest, I may not have moved back to the area otherwise. As a progressive anarchist leaning person, I would have chosen New Orleans, Savannah, or Atlanta; an area with a bigger independent music scene and film industry. The Nashville metro area has changed a lot due to transplants, large industries, and corporations. That is both good and bad: more housing and industries means less nature, wildlife relocation, and pollution — but it also paves the way for more people, which usually means more diversity in population and politics.
Some pros: The state of Tennessee has no state tax. It is one of my favorite states with tons of natural beauty: lots of forests and old architecture. There are plenty of good places to go on photo shoots and urban exploring, and to enjoy random day trips on country winding roads.
The South also feels more free in terms of less restrictions and laws. You can have land, less restrictions on guns, cheaper costs generally, good climate, soil, and space to garden. Nashville is also (comparatively) cheaper to live in than many other cities, but growing exponentially — so investing in a business or home here is a smart decision if you are in the place to afford that.
Housing is more expensive here than the national average, but every other cost is on par or less.
Some cons: social services are hard to get — and restrictive. Women and LGBTQIA rights are not as progressive as a blue state. Politically, people don’t stand up to injustice as much around here — with exceptions of the larger cities. Protests and direct action aren’t as frequent and as big here, typically.
Nashville is in a red state, but the city always goes blue come voting season, so that makes me a little more comfortable living here.
Everyone has to figure out what’s most important to them, because no place is gonna fit all their needs exactly. For me, the Nashville area is a good place to be. The longer I live here, the more I realize I made a great decision moving back down South. It was good for me. The LGBTQIA community is smaller, but more accepting. The smaller communities stick together a lot more down here, and have tighter bonds. Nashville is also an awesome city for live music. It’s also a good place to have a family (if you are into that kinda thing).
I think I will stay for a while and make my hometown a better place, so that the next generation won’t feel as isolated.
Remember, as they said in The Craft: we are the weirdos, mister.
Darius (He/Him) lives in the Nashville Metro area. He’s a boyfriend to his lovely partner Noelia, and a daddy to two little boy shih tzus, Grandpaw and Jax Gryff. He works as a beatmaker/dj producer part time, and dog groomer to the stars full-time (Young Buck’s pitbull and Pittsburgh Steelers Guard Ramon Foster’s rottie). Darius enjoys making beats and mixes, videography, urbex, catch and release fishing, thrifting/antiquing, spooky stuff, “conspiracy” theories, and retro 80s stuff. You can follow him at @djnazzd on instagram.
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