In 2007, I was in art school - and at the tail end of 20 plus surgeries. I was determined to visually represent how I felt about what I thought was the end of my transition. A Silent Scream is a fully caged face that opens as it is cranked forward, eyes open, silently screaming into the reality it faces. The building of this sculpture was to represent what I was capable of - that I was more than trans; Its intent is to show that I have value in a world that told me I was worthless. I wanted to prove I was intelligent, skilled, full of compassion, and driven to go beyond the stereotype by creating the physical proof that I have something to offer this world. Being trans can be an incredibly lonely place - even when surrounded by support. This piece addresses the mental acrobatics we must undergo, not just the physical transition to survive in a world that opposes our being. I can pass as cis, and that comes with certain privileges, but that doesn't erase the loneliness of not finding connection or not feeling understood. I set out to prove my worth with skill and intellect while battling all the demons simultaneously. If you look close enough beyond the objects, you can see this sculpture encompasses the entirety of my adult life. I learned machining and CAD design, among other skills; I even got a mechanical engineering degree to figure out the details. The simple idea of a machine can help break it down. Each piece is essential and put together; it can create a movement that forces a change in position literally and metaphorically. I attempt to break down something complicated into smaller pieces until it is understood both mechanically and psychologically. The process taught me to unravel my own negative opinion of myself, be proud of who I am - and part of who I am is trans. It is no longer me who needs "fixing"; what needs fixing is how people interact and neglect to understand what it entails to survive the many aspects of being trans in this world.