any of my college acquaintances, and began to look around for means of
support. I spent several hours every day in answering advertisements. I
would have been only too glad to accept such a position as shoveling
coal into a furnace, but at the end of a month, had found nothing. In
applying for positions, I was abashed in the consciousness that I was
ranked as a degenerate and an outcast from society. I could not name as
reference any member of the university or let it become known that I had
been a student there. After my expulsion I called on the two professors
with whom I was most intimate, and asked if I could refer to them. One
replied: “Knowing your nature, I could not recommend you for any
position, however menial. You cannot be trusted.” (And yet shortly
afterward I was for thirty months in the employ of a millionaire in the
most confidential capacity, and was surpassed in faithfulness by no
employee.) The other: “You must realize that you are an outcast from
society.”
[Sidenote: _An Outcast from Society._]
All hope for the future and all courage for battling with the world were
gone, and every day on my return from several hours’ fruitless search, I
would throw myself on the bed and give vent to my feelings in a violent
fit of weeping. While walking the street, I would weep aloud and be on
the borderline of hysterical screaming. I repeatedly entertained
thoughts of suicide.
In a few weeks I was penniless and a shelterless wanderer on the streets
in midwinter. I was driven for shelter to the Bowery, because there
alone lodging could be obtained for fifteen cents, and a big meal of
coarse and even disgusting food for ten cents. Thus I was compelled to
live for nine weeks before a way was opened to something better.
During the nine weeks I was of the opinion that I must pass the rest of
my days as an outcast from society, while of course living out the
“Jennie-June” life to which I was apparently predestined. I was grateful
to Providence that it was I and not one of my sisters who was
predetermined to the life of a fille de joie and an outcast. In
suffering such a fate, I believed that I was paying the penalty to God
for the sin of some progenitor. I believed myself appointed by the God
who visits the iniquities of the fathers upon the children to live out
the rest of my life in mourning and paroxysms of grief, such as then
visited me every day.
[Sidenote: _Year 1896—I Become a Low-Class Fairie._]
The manner of life of a high-class fairie has been described. I was
fated also to trace out the life of a low-class one. But even in my
present extreme poverty, I was decidedly averse to making a gainful
occupation out of the life. I wanted my freedom of action, and was
unalterably opposed to intimacy for pecuniary gain with any one whom I
did not adore. During the present nine weeks I accepted whatever was
voluntarily proffered, but otherwise left money entirely out of
consideration. I moreover did not resume my Fourteenth Street life,
which might have proved less impecunious, because it was comparatively
“poor pickings” there; because I was much more strongly attracted toward
the rough, burly adolescents of the foreign laborer quarters than toward
the young gentleman libertines of Fourteenth Street; and finally because
I had twice encountered on Fourteenth Street associates at the
university. Fortunately I happened to be alone both times and my actions
not suspicious, but I realized I was taking a great deal of risk there.
Moreover, I did not return regularly to my Mulberry Street friends
because I now found on my occasional visits there that it was a barren
“stamping ground.” The tradition was lodged there that I was well
furnished with money, which reputation is fatal to the success of a
penniless fairie.
Living as I was now compelled to live and necessarily mingling daily
with men of loose morals, the charm of masculine beauty proved more
powerful than ever before. Furthermore, it is not surprising that a
person, deprived of even what are regarded as the necessities of a
decent existence, should indulge immoderately in the single one of
life’s pleasures of which there was an abundant supply. In the
environment in which forces outside of my control placed me, there was
in me a practically irresistible impulse to adopt the manner of life I
did. I would never have made the profession of the fairie the main
business of life if it had not been for the peculiar concurrence of
circumstances, expulsion from college, inability to find respectable
employment, etc. That I now led the life I did was perhaps more the
fault of Christian society than my own. While the world condemned, I
have always believed that the Omniscient Judge pardoned because I was
the victim of circumstances and of innate psychical forces.
[Sidenote: _I Touch Bottom._]
The fact that I could now satisfy every day my instinctive yearnings to
pass for a female and spend six evenings a week in the company of
adolescent ruffians went far towards counterbalancing the many tears I
had to shed when there was nothing to divert my thoughts from my
condition of an outcast and an outlaw. I never coquetted on Sunday
evenings, which I devoted to worship of my Creator at some mission. I no
longer experienced any shame at displaying my feminine mentality
everywhere outside of the missions, as no one knew who I was. In many
neighborhoods I was hailed as “Jennie June.”
Besides the Bowery, the streets most frequented by me during these nine
weeks—as well as during the not immediately following two years when I
was compelled to go on a female-impersonation spree once in two
weeks—were the following: (1) In the foreign Hebrew quarter: Grand, from
Bowery eastward to Allen, and Allen and Christie, for several blocks on
both sides of Grand. (2) In the foreign Italian quarter, containing also
a large sprinkling of Irish immigrants: Grand, from Bowery westward to
Sullivan and Thompson; the whole lengths of the two latter streets;
Bleecker from Thompson to Carmine; and Mulberry south of Spring. (3) In
Chinatown: Doyers, Pell, and Mott streets. I did not seek the Chinese,
who were sexually repulsive, but the adolescent toughs and young
gentleman libertines who visited Chinatown evenings from all parts of
the city.
[Sidenote: _My Then “Stamping Ground.”_]
The present palatial Police Headquarters, built subsequently to my
frequenting these neighborhoods, is at the geographical center of my
field of those days. My fairie apprenticeship was in large part passed
within two hundred feet of the site of this edifice, then occupied by a
public market, and some of my fairie adventures occurred on the very
site.
With the exception of the soldiers and sailors, practically all my beaux
of these neighborhoods were of foreign parentage, but born in New York.
The Irish predominated, then came the Italians, and then the Hebrews.
Practically all belonged to one of these classes, as did nearly all the
inhabitants of the quarters frequented. But my experience as a fairie
elsewhere, particularly over a large part of Europe, proved that
religion and race make no difference in respect to the reception
accorded an invert.
Since I had lost my position in the social body, I was willing to take
greater risks of bodily harm. I would enter low “clubrooms” with several
wild heartless ruffians whom perhaps I had never seen before. Many a
midnight I was promenading the street arm in arm with a pair of
adolescent longshoremen cutthroats whom I had never seen before, or with
youthful soldiers or sailors. Even some youthful policemen went
skylarking with me on the back streets after all the inhabitants had
gone to bed. Most of the police on the Bowery knew me as a fairie, but
were always friendly. This street at that time was the wide-open
“red-light” district for the un-Americanized laborer and for the common
soldier or sailor.
[Sidenote: _Continuous Blackmail._]
When I felt feeble and fatigued—then my usual condition—flirtation
quickened the heart’s action and the flow of blood. I forgot my
weariness, and if shivering with the cold before, my body now glowed
with warmth.
Incorrigible thieves, who had only just learned that I was a fairie,
have immediately grasped me on a brightly lighted street thronged with
pedestrians, and ransacked my pockets, while clasping me to their breast
and crying out: “Oh how she loves me! Oh how she loves me!” Their
purpose was to create the impression on those who were hurrying by that
I was embracing them. Some adolescent ruffians demanded money every time
they ran across me, and helped themselves to all I had if I refused
them. If they found nothing, they would sometimes beat me in their
disappointment. Some would promise me a beating when we next met unless
I brought them a stipulated sum.
Occasionally boys hardly in their teens would demand blackmail. I was
entirely innocent of even carrying on conversation with them, but they
knew me through the adolescents of their neighborhood. The charges of
these mere boys, though entirely false, were feared much more than those
of adults, because it would have been a far more serious offence to have
had anything to do with those of tender years. Being no match for me in
size, these boys had to resort to various expedients to extort money.
They would sometimes attack me five or six together. Words cannot depict
my terror on being thus attacked. The boys had their parents near to
take their part, while I had not a soul to appeal to for help and to
establish my innocence. I feared that all the ignorant foreign
population would rise up against me, and in their wrath, kill me.
[Sidenote: _Chronic Overwhelming Fear._]
If a mere boy attacked me single-handed, he would suddenly leap upon my
back, hold himself there by throwing one arm tight around my neck so
that I could not dislodge him, and if I ran, had to carry him along; and
with the hand that was free, he would rain blows on me. To escape from
such a predicament, I was glad to give him a few nickels.
Naturally as timid as the cry-baby species of woman, I always promenaded
the dimly lighted side streets of these foreign quarters like a cat
crossing a road, ever alert, ever halting to reconnoitre, and
occasionally compelled to take to my heels on catching sight of the
burly form, a dozen yards away, of a ruffian who never cared for my
society, but who, because of innate loathing of a fairie—nourished by
the statutes’ making the latter an outlaw—beat and robbed me at every
opportunity. It was similar with young men not attractive to me, to whom
I had refused my company. Through being as swift of foot as a gazelle, I
escaped many blows. If flight were impossible, I would try entreaty. If
entreaty failed, I would resort to ruse. Knocked down by a sledge-hammer
blow, I would feign insensibility, and in all but one instance that
ended the beating.
[Sidenote: _Typical Night on Bowery._]
Is it any wonder that generally before starting out for a ramble on the
side streets, I felt as if I were going forth to meet death on the
scaffold? But I was fascinated by the adolescents who spent their
evenings on these streets, and who had previously given me their
company, and I was hoping to meet them again. I was also led on by the
craze for as many as possible every evening. Maximum erat octo; modus,
duo aut tres.
On the Bowery itself, soldiers and sailors were my special quest. As
already indicated, these two types were to me the _beau ideal_ of
masculine beauty. I outline one of my most successful nights.
* * * * *
I encounter four stalwart artillerymen of about my own age. I am
bewitched and must find some way to make their acquaintance immediately.
I would not take the risk of indecently accosting them as girls commonly
did on the Bowery at that time. I adopted the expedient of walking along
under their noses on the crowded sidewalk, swaying my shoulders
energetically and taking very short steps. In a few seconds they shouted
out, “Hello Pretty!” surrounded me, and overwhelmed me with terms of
endearment, while I begged them to take me to be their baby and slave. A
room is secured for an hour. When the time came to part, I was pained at
the thought. It was hard for a moment or an hour to possess the society
of a human demigod whom one would like to abide with and worship and
serve forever, and then to be abruptly, completely, and eternally
separated. Returned to the street, they repeatedly request me to leave
them. Arrived at their objective, a low dance-hall, they are compelled
to use threats of violence, and abandon me at the entrance.
[Sidenote: _Sample of Conversation._]
Two flashily dressed adolescents emerge. They halt in order to light
cigarettes but find they have no matches. I offer some, welcoming the
opportunity to enter into conversation. “You are handsome,
sporty-looking fellows. I cannot tell you how much I adore you.”
“What’s here? A fairie?”
“Yes, I’m a fairie, and I would like to be a slave to sports like you.
Don’t this fellow look every inch a slugger? How I worship sluggers!”
“You do, do you? Do you want to take a walk with us?”
“Delighted. I was just crying because some soldiers shook me, but making
your acquaintance brings me happiness again, because you are wild young
bloods.”
“What do you see in a fellow to love any way? I don’t see anything. What
good do you get out of loving a fellow?”
“Well, what do you see in a girl to love? I don’t see anything. Girls
are not brave. They are not rough. They are not strong. You are brave,
rough, and strong, and that is why I love you. I love fellows for the
same reason you love girls—because they are my opposites. The weak love
the strong and the strong, the weak. The brave love the timid and the
timid, the brave. The shy love the bold and the bold, the shy.
[Sidenote: _Sample of Numerous Robberies._]
I love a boy
Because I’m coy;
It would be wrong
Not to love the strong;
In the fierce and rough
I find the right stuff;
The gallant and brave
They make me rave;
While the reckless and bold
Are better than gold.”
I always sought by sprightly conversation to win the good will of chance
companions, but a small proportion were incorrigible. As soon as we
arrived on a dark deserted street, one of the young men said: “Do you
know I am a detective, and I arrest you for accosting us. But if you’ll
hand me a dollar, I will let you off this time.” (Impersonating a
detective is a common practice in robbing fairies.)
“I haven’t that much, and you wouldn’t take from a poor unfortunate the
few cents he has, would you?”
“Hand over all you’ve got! You’ll find you have run up against a hard
party!”
“You ought not to hit me like that, because I’m a girl. A fellow ought
to be ashamed to hit a girl.”
“You’re no girl, you!” adding the appropriate vulgar epithet.
“I am too. I can take you to a doctor and prove it by his word. I am a
girl incarnated in a boy’s body.”
For fear of a pummeling, I handed over all I had, less than a dollar.
[Sidenote: _Excessive Venery Very Harmful._]
“I am undecided what to do with you, lock you up, or give you a
thrashing, you d—— fairie!”
“Please let me go! I am very weak and can’t stand much. You want to
punish me for being a fairie, but I can’t help being what Nature made
me. Do you think any one would be a fairie from choice when they are the
most despised of mankind? Think how much better God has been to you than
to me. Have pity on me! I am one of the most unfortunate of human
beings! For your dear mother’s sake—whom every boy must love—I beg you
to show me mercy!”
An appeal to mother-love seldom failed. I return to the dance-hall and
enter. My soldier friends are nowhere to be seen, so I take a seat among
a group of blue-jackets of my own age, and am not slow in betraying my
character through expressions of my admiration. A room is hired.
It was after three A. M. when I sought rest. But my brain was so excited
that I tossed about for two hours, having alternately chills for five
minutes, and then fever. I felt that I was going to lose my mind any
moment, and besought the Omniscient to allay my excitement. I had gone
beyond my strength, and in addition the excessive venery was harmful to
the nervous system. After five o’clock, I repeatedly fell into a doze,
but immediately beginning to dream that my face and buccal cavity were
covered with the most loathsome syphilitic ulcers—such as a university
confidant had once told me he had seen in a hospital, _falsely_, in
order to scare me from fellatio with strangers—I would awake with a
start, horror-stricken. After suffering this nightmare a dozen times, I
finally fell into a restful sleep lasting until early afternoon.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Typical Night on Side Street._]
A typical night on the side streets: On Canal Street near Thompson was a
pool parlor where acquaintances of the highest type for this period of
my life—in large part adolescent drivers for the express
companies—passed their evenings. While I was received in pool parlors of
a lower grade, my presence would have been unwelcome here. One evening I
was loafing in front of the place, waiting for some acquaintance to
pass. Before long I was recognized, my presence announced to those
within, and all temporarily interrupted their games to crowd around me.
The majority had never seen me before, and were anxious to interview the
person who was then the talk of the young “sports” of that part of the
town, as well as of many other parts. Even in the foreign laborer
quarters of New York City, if is rare for a young man to run across a
professional fairie—as they constitute as near as I can _guess_ only one
out of every three thousand physical males—and furthermore, I have been
repeatedly told that I acted the part in such perfection as never seen
in any other.
Question after question was addressed to me: How did I ever get it into
my head that I was a girl? Why had I been born that way? Was it because
my parents had indulged shortly before I was born, so that membrum
virile concurreret meam faciem? Wasn’t it because God wished to visit
upon me some sin of my parents? (Practically all were more or less
devout Roman Catholics.) Were any of my brothers similarly affected? Had
I ever had relations with a woman? At what age did the peculiar desire
show itself? Etc. I gladly answered every question, and told them the
story of my life, only with such non-essential variations from the truth
as my protection demanded.
[Sidenote: _Occasionally Told Story of Life._]
All soon returned to their games except four, none of whom I had ever
met previously. I consented to take a walk with two, and insisted that
the others must leave us because of their age, only sixteen. We strolled
to the neighboring absolutely deserted shore of the Hudson River, and
took possession of one of the hundreds of covered trucks stalled there
for the night. I soon discovered the two that had been left behind
peeking into the van. Startled for fear of a plot, I leaped to the
ground in order to flee. But on their immediately starting in to caress
me, I fell at their feet in adoration. Both were clad in the blue
uniform of express-company employees, and therefore presented a
particularly pleasing appearance.
Some adolescents—as these four—went to extremes just for the novelty of
it, out of curiosity to observe my peculiar nature, or to derive
amusement through frolicking with me. In some cases, subsequently filled
with abhorrence that I would so lower myself—as they looked upon it—they
would be moved to inflict physical pain, or temporary disfigurement of
the face, which I shrunk from a thousand times more than from pain.
After an hour of such treatment as filled me with bliss, a change of
attitude began to manifest itself. Knowing by experience that I was
destined to suffer, I watched my chance, unexpectedly dashed away from
them, and with the extraordinary speed that I was capable of when
frightened, directed my course away from the absolutely deserted river
front. All four immediately started in pursuit. The zig-zag chase—for I
turned at every corner—extended more than a quarter of a mile. The
terrifying shouts, “Stop thief! Stop thief!” rang in my ears throughout
the course, and I as continuously prayed for the help of the Almighty to
enable me to escape. Their cries, however, failed to bring assistance
since the streets of this wholesale and warehouse section are at
midnight entirely deserted.
[Sidenote: _A Typical Chase._]
I was at about the end of my endurance, and realized that unless
something unexpected happened, I must in a moment fall into their hands.
But a merciful Providence was about to intervene to save a persecuted
outcast from what promised to be a serious assault. I had just turned
the acute angle that Vestry Street makes with Canal, and the nearest of
my pursuers was only a hundred feet behind. Toward midnight the horse
cars on Canal Street ran only at fifteen minute intervals, but at that
very second one happened to be jogging along only twenty-five feet from
the apex of the acute angle. I leaped upon the platform and entered the
car. If this had happened in sight of my pursuers, they would
undoubtedly have followed my example and assaulted me inside the car, as
happened in another similar adventure.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _In Darkest New York._]
On another midnight, as I was sauntering down —— —— looking for company,
I became infatuated with a giant of a ruffian seated on a hydrant just
below —— Street. I began my prattle and we soon walked off together to
the neighboring —— Park. He appeared to be such a reckless character
that I was afraid to accompany him off a public place, and contented
myself with spooning on one of the park benches. We were soon joined by
two pals, who had followed to see what was up, because maybe there was a
chance for highway robbery. But they discovered that it was only a
low-class fairie. They were also splendid specimens of the youthful
ruffian. I was madly attracted toward all three, and now reclining in
the bosom of one, and now in that of another, I gave utterance to the
infant’s natural language expressive of contentment at being petted and
babied by these giants, whom I affectionately called my “Big Braves.” I
would lift their hands to my mouth and cover them with kisses, and roll
up their sleeves and cover their arms with kisses.
After some time, two of them said goodnight, leaving me alone with the
giant whose acquaintance I had first made. I finally agreed to accompany
him to his room. Whenever we sighted a policeman, he remarked: “Let’s go
over to the other side of the street. I don’t want that cop to see my
face.” After entering the side-door of a repulsive-looking “Saloon,” we
walked down a very long passage, divided into sections by several
heavily barricaded doors, each provided with a peep-hole and
door-tender, who opened only to the elect. Protection was thus secured
against surprises by the police. We finally arrived in a spacious room
filled with small tables, around which were seated a dozen flashily
dressed “sports,” about the same number of shabbily clad ruffians, three
or four girls costumed as for a fancy-dress ball, and five “sports” in
the biological sense of that word, that is, youths with no front teeth,
hair à la mode de Oscar Wilde (that is, hanging down in ringlets over
the ears and collar) and clad in bright colored wrappers. Their faces
were painted, and their bodies also were seen to be when later they
threw aside the loose wrappers.
[Sidenote: _Professional Fairies._]
The assemblage were sipping their favorite beverages. From time to time
decidedly obscene dances took place—in 1897 to be seen only in brothels,
but in 1917 gracing even university receptions. In the terpsichorean
art, our universities today stand only where our brothels stood twenty
years ago. One of the painted youths furnished the dance music. Another
from time to time rendered the latest songs in a treble voice.
When some came forward to make my acquaintance, my friend introduced me
as “Miss June.” I protested: “Not Miss June. That doesn’t sound pretty.
Jennie June. I am only a baby girl, not a grown-up female.”