After moving west to Phoenix, Margaux transitioned her talents into Information Technology while remaining firmly anchored in activism. In 2004, she played a pivotal role in the first all-transgender production of The Vagina Monologues, not only performing the haunting piece “My Vagina Was My Village” but also designing the production’s visual identity, posters, keepsake books, and postcards that became part of its legacy. For seven years, she helmed the Arizona Day of Remembrance at the State Capitol, creating a safe and inclusive space for education, mourning, and community outreach.
Margaux’s story is one of creative vision meeting unshakable commitment, whether she is shaping cultural narratives, standing at the forefront of social change, or quietly ensuring that an event feels like a place of belonging for all who attend. In this conversation, we journey with her through personal history, public milestones, and the artistry that binds them together.
Monika: Margaux, it’s such a pleasure to have you here on The Heroines! Welcome to the blog.
Margaux: Hi Monika! It’s good to talk to you. Thanks for this opportunity.
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| Promotional z-card and poster. |
Monika: Margaux, your name is so distinctive, and I understand your family heritage blends both European and Native American roots. Could you tell us about your background and where your story begins?
Margaux: Yes. I was born on January 13, 1959, also my father’s birthday, in the U.S. Naval Hospital in Pensacola, Florida. My father was a Navy flight engineer, and my mother was a nurse. My father’s family had settled in New England, with mostly Germanic roots. My mother’s family was Scottish and French, and my great-grandmother was a Native American Cherokee.
Monika: What was your early childhood like?
Margaux: I’d like to say I had a normal childhood, but that wasn’t the case. I grew up in the Deep South during the Cold War, on a military base with the Blue Angels roaring over my backyard. At age four, my mother took me to the Base Psychiatrist for what she called “inappropriate feminine behavior” as I insisted on sitting down to urinate.
Monika: How did your family respond to that?
Margaux: The psychiatrist recommended that an adult chaperone accompany me to the bathroom to ensure I would stand to urinate. My father was distant and stoic. I was artistic and creative, but effeminate in my mannerisms. I wanted to be a nurse like my mother, and this behavior caused me a great deal of trouble when I entered school.
Monika: And what was your family life like at that time?
Margaux: My younger brother was developmentally challenged, and my mother spent most of her time caring for him. Later, my father left the Navy and returned to civilian life as a stockbroker with Merrill Lynch. In November 1967, he was transferred to Atlanta. I remember the company put us up in the Hyatt Regency downtown while we looked for a home. My father’s office was right across Peachtree Road from the hotel, in a suite in the Georgia Power Building. He would come to the window and wave at us in our hotel room.
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(Left) - Paleo Selfie, 2012. (Right) - Early meme/poster art 2002. The artist formerly known as a meme can be found at: oldskoolphreak.com in the hacker art gallery. There are also podcasts where I discuss my art and culture jamming. |
Monika: What kind of neighborhood did you move into?
Margaux: We found a lovely split-level home with a large yard and nearby woods. Our neighbors had horses, goats, and other unusual pets. I was interested in art, science, and nature, and I spent more time alone or with animals than with other children. I remember our first Christmas in Atlanta, it was a white Christmas, and my father helped me build a snowman. But the neighborhood kids tore it down and teased me. That was my first experience of bullying.
At school, I quickly learned it was not okay to play with girls. My father gave me a very short haircut to make me look more masculine, but it only made me miserable. Whenever I had the chance at home, I would dress in my mother’s older clothes. I thought I was the only child in the world who felt this way, so I was gobsmacked when I first saw a television show dealing with transsexualism.
Monika: When did you start to realize that your experience and sense of self were different from those around you?
Margaux: For some time it was very difficult to meet other kids. I stayed home with my microscope and my pets. I spent a lot of time with my mother. I did spend time with the girls in my neighborhood, but that led to bullying by their brothers. On more than one occasion in my early teens, I was lured into the woods and sexually assaulted by boys in the neighborhood. The problems in school became so severe that I was taken away from my regular school and classmates and enrolled in a private adolescent middle school program.
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| The first newsletter I designed and edited. |
Monika: How did your school life and interests evolve during that period?
Margaux: My science teacher helped me find an experimental high school called the Downtown Learning Center, which was a non-structured open campus program that allowed me to, in effect, do my own thing. I pursued programs ranging from art to ceramics to photography, computer science, and developmental biology. I blossomed in a safe environment. At that point, I started reading scientific books on transsexualism by John Money and Richard Green, as well as biographies of Christine Jorgensen and Canary Conn. At that point, I came out to my teacher and mentioned my desire to transition.
Monika: How did you first go about seeking medical support for your transition?
Margaux: I discovered there was a gender clinic at the state hospital, so I called and made an appointment. I had a rigorous evaluation, with interviews by multiple specialists. When the doctors contacted my family, it became very awkward. I started counseling with my pediatrician, and after many interviews, he agreed to begin treatment on my eighteenth birthday.
Monika: What do you remember most about starting your medical transition?
Margaux: I vividly recall getting a 20 mg injection of Squibb Delestrogen in a Becton-Dickinson syringe. I began electrolysis for the small amount of facial hair. I interviewed with the school administrators, and they made arrangements for me to transition and to use the restroom in the teachers’ lounge.
Monika: How did your life and transition progress after that initial step?
Margaux: I had no income and no hope of financing surgery. For a time, I worked as a lab technician. My family pressured me to return to school at the Art Institute of Atlanta, in an androgynous mode. I had not yet met any other transsexual women. I began working in the design field on a number of high-profile design projects, but I felt as though my transition was stagnating. Through an advertisement in the local tabloid, I found a support group and was introduced, for the first time, to others who shared my experience.
Monika: How did your family react when you began your transition?
Margaux: During this time, I was isolated from my old circles of friends and family. When I heard from my parents, I was shocked to learn that my mother had been diagnosed with cancer. I had to drop everything and go home to take care of her. Mom accepted me, although my father did not, and in those special times we bonded as mother and daughter. My mother helped me choose my name, and I was so glad to have her blessing.
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| Caroline Cossey plus Moi (the early 1990s). |
Monika: What happened after your mother passed away?
Margaux: After she passed away, my father still did not accept me. I moved around, staying with friends and other transgender persons. Five of us rented a house, which we treated as our operations office for AEGIS. I threw myself into my work and projects, doing graphic identity and environmental signage for MARTA, then freelancing for my former employer on ADA compliance for MARTA.
Monika: Could you share more about your work with AEGIS and related activism?
Margaux: I worked as Deputy Director for AEGIS and built up the branding, identity, and administrative structure. Unfortunately, our involvement with AEGIS ended when the director chose to incorporate without including us. I then became the spokesperson for “Straight But Not Narrow,” founded by Emily Nussbaum, building alliances with both the gay and straight communities.
Monika: Was there a particularly memorable moment for you during this period?
Margaux: One of the highlights was learning that Caroline Cossey, the famous transsexual Playboy model and James Bond girl, was coming to Atlanta. I had seen her on the Phil Donahue Show and was enamored with her confidence, intelligence, and wit. I saw her as a vibrant, worldly woman and knew I had to meet her. We met at the nightclub Petrus during her Atlanta visit, and I was lucky enough to get an interview with her. We became fast friends, and I was present when she was given a Key to the City. She gave me a signed copy of her book, and I gave her copies of the magazine I worked on. Caroline returned to England, but we stayed in touch as I worked toward raising money for my surgery.
Monika: How did you finally manage to secure the funds and arrange your gender reassignment surgery?
Margaux: Fortuitously, I met a man, a sort of agent provocateur, who had connections to the emerging Internet economy. This opened a number of doors, enabling me to finance my surgery. Once I had raised the money, I wrote to Dr. Michel Seghers in Brussels for a date and was surprised to receive one much earlier than I had anticipated. My surgery date was set for Halloween 1992. I had the good fortune of meeting Dr. Seghers at the Southern Comfort Convention shortly before I went to Brussels.
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| On the eve of my SRS with Docteur Michel Seghers. |
Monika: What do you remember about your arrival in Brussels and preparing for the procedure?
Margaux: I flew to Brussels alone and managed to get to my hotel, where I shared a room with another American who would also be having surgery, an American Airlines pilot who was older and had transitioned more recently. My preoperative information consisted of a brochure from the Ingersoll Center called The Brussels Experience, along with my correspondence from the surgeon. I had a tight itinerary: make my doctor’s appointment, then check into the hospital. I didn’t know much French, but my physician spoke fluent English.
Monika: How did the final preparations go before the operation?
Margaux: The hospital was the Clinique Baron-Lambret. My pre-op day was very full, getting lab work, an EKG, arranging payment, and signing documents. That evening, I met with my surgeon and anesthesiologist, drank that unpleasant bowel-prep fluid, and was given a razor to shave my genitals. I didn’t want to do it, but I realized it would be the last time I ever had to confront my genitalia. So I got through the procedure. Dr. Seghers decided to schedule my surgery as the first case since my organs were small and atrophic from estrogen, which could make the operation take longer.
Monika: Can you take me back to the morning of your surgery and what you remember from those first moments?
Margaux: The next morning I was taken to surgery. It seemed almost surreal, having been given intravenous medication, being wheeled through the hospital corridors to the operating room while the sedation took effect. My doctor was there to greet me, surrounded by student nurses who were there to observe. “Good morning, Ms. Schaffer,” he smiled. “Have you changed your mind?” I assured him I had not. I remember the mask being applied, and the sweet smell of the nitrous oxide swirling into it as I inhaled. I was instructed to count backward, and then, nothing. My first memory of regaining consciousness was the faint cadence of an EKG monitor: BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… I made it! I had survived the surgery. But I felt cold. I had had previous surgeries and remembered feeling cold afterward, so I thought nothing of it.
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| (Left and Middle) - The Advocate op Ed was, to my knowledge; was the very first published piece to address the issue of anti-transgender violence head-on. (Right) - Chrysalis Quarterly cover featuring "Gendermatic" digitally composited art by moi. |
Monika: When did you first realize that something was wrong?
Margaux: Things started to go wrong quickly. Nurses began acting erratically, speaking excitedly in French. It became clear, between the alarms on the blood pressure meter and their anxious speech, that something was wrong. I was bleeding profusely in the pelvic area, and my blood pressure was dropping. Somehow, with my profuse shivering, I must have torn stitches. A nurse pulled the sheet down and screamed. Dr. Seghers’s wife, who assisted him in surgery, came to my bedside and squeezed my hand.
END OF PART 1
All the photos: courtesy of Margaux Ayn Schaffer.
© 2017 - Monika Kowalska
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