Interview with Aleshia Brevard: Part 4 - cont.


Monika: Later, you worked as a stripper in Reno and as a Playboy Bunny at the Sunset Strip hutch…
Aleshia: Both Reno and the Playboy Club happened before the early 70’s when I married and retired to the San Fernando Valley to raise three boys. My stint in both Reno and Honolulu as an exotic, following my showgirl turn at The Dunes, had occurred in the early to mid-’60s. I’d worked as a Playboy Bunny on Hollywood’s Sunset Strip following “The Love God”, my first film, in 1969.
As fate would have it, I was being featured on a billboard advertising the film, located directly across the street from the Playboy Club. I think that contributed to my being hired for the hutch. I will add, bye the bye, that although I’d truly loved working in burlesque, I detested every single moment of slinging drinks in a Bunny costume. Glamour isn’t always what first meets the eye; being a Bunny was exceedingly hard work.

Universal Studios publicity shot for
"The Love God", 1969.

Monika: How do you recollect the Stonewall riots? Did you regard it as a turning point in the sexual revolution of 1969?
Aleshia: I blush to admit that by 1969 I was so caught up in my middle-of-the-road life that I was unaware of Stonewall, which with hindsight I fully realize was a turning point for gay rights. If I heard about the Stonewall Riots on the news, it simply did not register.
I suspect at the time there were even many successful gay men who did not view Stonewall as a turning point for their community. As an example of this, at the time I had a close relationship with my first college roommate, who lived in Los Angeles with his male partner. They often joined my husband and me for dinner, followed by a spirited card game of ‘Hearts’. I bring this up because I don’t recall either of these gay men ever mentioning Stonewall or its potential importance.
Many successful gay men, I assume, had grown accustomed to the comfortable lives they lived and did not wish to rock the boat. That’s supposition, of course. Don’t know this will register with your entire readership, but I think it’s important to additionally comment (perhaps in my own defense) that by 1969 I’d already been caught up in and survived a sexual revolution of my own.
In the early ’60s, at the time of my gender reassignment, I’d entered mainstream society as a woman, suddenly required to master a new working knowledge of human sexuality, psychedelic drugs, and the effects of a counter-culture that rejected the conservative ways and embrace individual freedom. It was a new world for me, in more ways than one.

Shot with the Pussycats and Don Knotts
(Aleshia on Don’s far left).

Monika: Was there anyone in the transgender community whose actions could be compared to what Harvey Milk was doing for gay activism?
Aleshia: I’m sure there probably would have been, Monika, although my above statement generally covers this question. It wasn’t a matter of burying my head in the sands of Southern California as much as it was that during those years the pressures and concerns of my daily life had assumed different formatting.
By the 70’s I was working full time in the film and television industry, in addition to pursuing training for a profession that by its very nature demanded full concentration. My intimate friends were part of the same industry and our focus was admittedly narrow in scope. I had not been in a gay bar in almost a decade.
Monika: The early 80s were marred by your mother’s death. You lost someone very important in your life.
Aleshia: Mother’s untimely death was an unexpected and devastating blow, which is putting it quite mildly. I felt lost and suddenly without direction. My mother, my best friend and closest confidant was only 65 when she died. It was a tragic loss for our entire family. It is during such trying times that one’s metal is truly tested.
Now, over thirty years later, I think of my mother almost daily, hoping that during her life she fully realized how much she was loved and how grateful I was for her ongoing nurturing support. Mother had always been there for me, through good times and bad. Mother had been the one person on whom I’d known I could always depend. It was her death that quite literally forced me to master the art of standing alone. I miss her terribly. Somehow, however, the faith she’d always had in me remains a constant source of support.

At home in Tennessee during recovery from 1962 SRS.

Monika: Was she always supportive of your transition?
Aleshia: Mozelle, my mother, was an amazing woman. At first, it’s fair to say, she had moments of self-doubt, wondering if she’d unintentionally done something to cause my transsexuality. Thankfully that quickly passed as she got to know me as her daughter. Quite naturally it had been a great shock to my parents when Dr. Harry Benjamin called to explain transsexuality and to assure them that for their “son” surgery was the only answer for aligning body and mind.
How could they grasp what they were hearing? In the early ’60s transsexuality was rare, at best, and for most people an alien concept -- especially in the rural South. As a child I had been extremely feminine, doing my best to disappear into the woodwork, but even the remote possibility of my transition had never occurred to my parents. Such things did not happen in their world. It’s possible they had never even heard of Christine Jorgensen. If so, I’m relatively sure they had dismissed the phenomena as an abnormality, something of no importance to them or their children.
I regret the severe shock my reassignment caused my parents. It was unfair, yet there was no other way. Devastated though they had been by Dr. Benjamin’s call, afterwards they came to California to be by my side of the surgery – and to meet the man I intended to marry. Hard to imagine, isn’t it? I’m amazed by the strength, love, and fortitude my parents showed during those very trying times. During their cross-country trip, my mother kept worrying that she might slip and call me by the name I’d been given at birth. Yet, upon first seeing me in California, nervously waiting to greet them in my skirt and blouse, Mother turned to Daddy and said, “There she is! There’s Aleshia.” My mother had immediately accepted me as her daughter – and she never looked back.

Front page of the "Tennessean", Nashville's leading
newspaper in 1969.

Monika: Your mother’s death is also the symbolic end of your first book "The Woman I Was Not Born To Be" …
Aleshia: Yes, the first book deals with the childhood years, transition, and reassignment. It seemed only fitting I end that chapter of my life with the death of my best friend and supporter. When that book was published in 2002, by Temple University Press, I had no intention of writing a sequel. I soon realized, however, that life had indeed gone on; the second half of my life had allowed many of Mozelle’s dreams for my future to come true. That struck me as much more important than the angst and early trauma that had gotten me there. The result of this realization and celebration of life resulted in “The Woman I WAS Born To Be”, published in 2009, by Blue Feather Books.
Monika: In the book, you write frankly about the degree to which you organized your life around pleasing men, and how absurd it all seems to you now.
Aleshia: Well, yes, Monika, being found pleasing by men was indeed part of my journey. (Smile!) From time to time my relationships have been over a rough road. It was all a learning process, as all lives are. I had been a child of the ’50s and ’60s, a time when gender roles were clearly drawn and closely adhered to. Women generally played a subservient role. I blush to admit subservience came naturally to me.
By the time of my reassignment feminism was in its formative stages -- but I had yet to learn that “Someone to Watch Over Me” was merely a song, and one written by a man. My SRS surgeon, Dr. Elmer Belt, had even assured me I would have a remarkable life because I understood men. Ha! It took several decades and many husbands before I finally realized that I didn’t understand men, not in the least. 
Monika: You got married four times. One husband of the four, the first husband whom you married twice, seemed to be the love of your life?
Aleshia: Hardly! The “love of my life” was actually my first love, the man I did not marry. Perhaps that’s why his memory has remained so precious! My first (and second) husband, Lee, was a talented musician and a charming scallywag. He also happened to be gay, a fact that had completely escaped me at the time of our first marriage. So much for gaydar! I adored Lee, but we were friends rather than anything resembling lovers. Neither of our needs could be met. “So why did you marry him a second time?” you may ask. Good question, one for which I’m not sure I have an equally good answer. I’d like to live with him – for the most part. He made me laugh. He was my friend.
Then on the heels of “The Love God” tour, I’d become very ill with the Hong Kong Flu. Of all the men I knew or had been dating, only Lee showed up with chicken soup, a box of Kleenex, and a soothing word. He even washed my dishes. I decided that perhaps, just perhaps, a woman needs a good friend more than she’ll ever need a not-so-good husband. Lee and I truly loved each other, but it was a brotherly/sisterly love. The sad truth is that we both required more.

Action shot from Finocchio’s.

Monika: And the other husbands?
Aleshia: My third marriage, which I referenced earlier, brought three darlings, rambunctious boys into my life. I loved my stepsons and I loved being their mother, challenging though they often were. Being married to their Southern-born father also had many challenges, particularly later on in the marriage. I still wanted my career; my husband wanted a stay-at-home wife.
At the beginning of our marriage, he’d taken some pride in my career, but that slowly began to change. Perhaps the ‘new’ had begun to wear off the relationship. When I dug in my heels and accepted an offer to go on the road with a theatre production, the proverbial writing was on the wall.
After my husband retaliated, if retaliation was the cause of his infidelity, I decided to take a break from the marriage and return to graduate school – in another state. My husband did me the honor of divorcing me. My last, and I do mean last, marriage was to a lovely young man twenty-four years my junior. By this time I should have been old enough to know better. The difference in age, when added to MANY other relationship problems, led to that divorce. Even though I had met this husband while active in theatre, he too began to make demands about my career. 
At some point, we must all decide where we find the most joy and happiness. I made that decision. I certainly do not regret having indulged in the marriage merry-go-round, but I’m ever so glad to have finally discovered the joys of living alone and playing by my own rules.
Monika: Have you ever thought about being a mother?
Aleshia: Years ago my friend Kathy, with whom everything had begun in San Francisco at Finocchio’s, made the comment that considering my love of children and the number of men I’d thought I loved, perhaps it was a blessing that I couldn’t bear children. Seemingly she thought I’d have been a real-life version of the little ol’ woman who lived in a shoe – with so many children I didn’t know what to do. She might have had a point! Still, I consider myself very fortunate to have had a hand in the raising of three very special young men. They made my life more fully.


All the photos: courtesy of Aleshia Brevard.
© 2013 - Monika Kowalska  


Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Aleshia Brevard has passed to the other side. May she find the happiness and love she gave to others. Thank you for all you have done. Rest in Peace.

1 Jul 2017

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