The life of a transblack genderqueer Muslim atheist at 27

Like the rest of the world, I was utterly disgusted at this week’s Esquire article which focused on the life of a 17-year-old white American boy. The front cover of their magazine featured this odious creature, his face contorted into an alt-right smirk. It’s obvious from his expression: he is perfectly content in openly mocking minorities while stubbornly refusing to check his privilege, and no doubt playing racist games on his mobile phone while day-dreaming about joining the KKK.

What made this front cover article even more despicable, is that it was released during Black History Month. A month that should be 100 percent dedicated to black people and nothing else.

Rather than waste my valuable time talking about this Trump-adoring pale manchild, I have decided to rewrite the article, this time featuring a true warrior. Someone who deserves the limelight. A role-model for the marginalized. A social justice icon who more accurately represents the youth of today.

The life of a transblack genderqueer Muslim atheist at 27

Godfrey Elfwick is 27 and happy to be a genderqueer Muslim atheist, born white in the wrong skin. From an early age, xe knew xe was special. At the tender age of 14 months, xe was already making protest banners in support of marginalized people while xir’s older brother Moneer, played with his toys, oblivious to his sibling’s struggles.

At the age of seven, xe was the first genderqueer transracial child to have xir’s artwork featured on the UK children’s art show Art Attack, with xir’s powerful visual depiction of how it felt to be born a white male, but deep down know you are a black woman:

Now, at the tender age of 27, Godfrey lives in a modest apartment in the English city of York. Every Monday, xe wakes up at 11am and checks xir’s Patreon to see how much xir’s activism has earned xim the previous week, followed by a quick text to xir’s father to make sure xir’s allowance has been deposited into xir’s bank account.

Being an activist is hard and requires a lot of emotional strength, Godfrey tells me (ximself). A lot of people think it’s just posting stuff online and getting offended about meaningless things…but it’s so much more than that. There are important protests to attend.

Only last year, I stormed into a home for the elderly close to where I live and no-platformed an ignorant racist who was giving the residents a talk called ‘World War II Memories’. There’s no place for that colonialist rhetoric in the current year.

After walking through the front entrance, I came face-to-face with a bunch of old white people (probably Nazis), openly enjoying a lecture on what life was like during the war. It made me feel sick to my stomach when I heard one of them make a positive comment on Winston Churchill. That was when I understandably lost my shit and demanded they shut down this endorsement of fascism ASAP. They point-blank refused (to be honest, I think many of them were heavily medicated) so I went to work. I had a bit of trouble ejecting the guy doing the talk. His wheelchair kept catching on the patio doorframe, but I eventually managed to push him and his oxygen cylinder outside into the carpark. A victory for Antifa!

Many people wrongly assume an old folks’ home is an ‘easy target’, but let me tell you, some of those old ladies can get quite fighty. It’s surprising how agile someone with a hip replacement can be. I ended up getting a rather nasty jab from a knitting needle, but after consulting my solicitor I decided it was too much of a hassle to go for compensation and in any case, after doing some background checks, it turned out the 82-year-old lady in question had very little money so there was no point in taking it further.

At this point in the interview with myself, I ask myself if I have any regrets. I shake my head and tell myself firmly: ‘No’. ‘Although’, I continue, ‘there was that time I missed out on seeing Toto performing live in Manchester in 1992. But apart from that, absolutely not.’