Monday, December 10, 2007

Adventures In This Gendered World

Is a community within the LGBT population possible or is it just a grand dream that could never really function? Many people hear the idea of a gay community and immediately think of the Castro in San Francisco or of New York City where streets are lined with rainbow flags and gay-run-and-focused bars and businesses. Of course there are also large LGBT populations in other cities as well, such as Boston, Provincetown, and Philadelphia. There are many very gay-friendly cities in Florida, Oregon, Washington, California, etc. Outside of these major metropolitan areas, though, the atmosphere changes and community presents itself differently. Or is it really that different?
Yesterday I attended a small gathering of LGBT folks from varying parts of my state. As people came into the little café we were at, I watched as they all grouped off. The gay men congregated in one corner, the lesbians claimed the couches, and a couple people who might have been bi kept walking back and forth between the two groups. Finally, the transgender individuals just milled about for a while before introducing themselves and chatting in an adjacent room. I think that all of these interactions had some very strong connotations to them, which I'll mention briefly before getting back to my original train of thought. Namely, the gay men were hidden away in their corner, the lesbians took over the lounge area [read as being aggressive], the bisexuals couldn't settle in one place, and the transfolk hesitated before gathering together separately from the lesbigay groups. Yeah, more than a few stereotypes were being played out there. And so much more could be said just about these few points.
Back on track, when I met a few of the transfolk the interactions that occurred there were interesting as well. First, I should clarify that although I'm referring to them as transfolk, the group I was talking with included only transwomen- that is, no one was presenting themselves as male; they were all male-to-female. As we all chatted one lady approached and "outed" me as being trans. After I confirmed it, she stated that she knew as much since "we transgender folk can usually spot another without much trouble." I agreed in the moment and the conversation moved on. That part of the conversation kept bothering me though and the more I thought about it later, the more it bothered me. But I knew why all along.
Under the transgender umbrella there are many ways that being trans can be played out. Underlining it all, though, is a huge pressure to "pass". This means that regardless of how someone fits into the transgender grouping, there is always the question being asked of how well they can look like a male or look like a female- how well they can "get away" with appearing a gender they weren't assigned at birth. This brings up a great number of assumptions, but we'll deal with them later.
So, as I kept thinking about the lady who expressed that someone who is trans can spot another transperson more easily than someone who is cis-gender identified (cis-gender meaning the individual identifies with the gender corresponding to how the doctor identified them at birth) I kept thinking about how true that statement is and how brutally that statement plays out. Coming back to the pressure to pass, Chris Beam gives a good overview in her book transparent where she mentions that one transperson in more likely to identify and critique another transperson than someone who isn't trans. This means that they will call another person out on not being able to pass well enough or, as Chris Beam related, they identify which transperson is too "brick" to pass correctly. These interactions often can become quite cruel and sometimes violent. This all reinforces why the transgender group at the gathering took their time before assembling. Perhaps each was busy sizing the other up. Perhaps each was busy assessing how well the others were able to pass. Perhaps this explains why its hard for a transgender community to really come together and feel like a community.
The pressure to "pass" severely undermines transgender diversity. First, if someone is able to pass well enough that they get by in all aspects of their life, are they still transgender or have they then become simply male or simply female? Second, the concept of passing marginalizes the entire portion of the trans population that isn't about passing. The concept of passing is all about staying away from the ambiguous, away from the unknown. This automatically pits transsexuals, cross dressers, intersex individuals, and those who do drag (who often strive harder to pass) against those who identify as genderqueer, androgynous/pangender, neutroid, or otherwise gender variant (who are more interested in the ambiguity of what is between or outside of the male/female binary). 
As I was talking in the group at the café, one transwomen (who did an amazing job of passing) asked me where I was in my transition. (This implied that I must be transsexual and wasn't near the end point yet. Of course, I was not passing as male or female very well at the time. Granted, I also wasn't trying to.) I told her that my "transition" wasn't what she was thinking of- that I had no problem with the unknown territory of ambiguity. She looked at me blankly for a second and then told me about how she went through her transition as quickly as she could and then talked about how androgynous appearances make it difficult for everyone to gauge what level of protection or interaction they are going to have when they see you on the street. So even though we continued on to chat about transitioning and identifying gender, the assumption was that I was naive and would eventually be transitioning "for real"- that eventually everyone has to pass, one way or the other.
How can the transgender population come together as a community and provide support for each other if there are such deep divides within it? For that matter, how can the entire LGBT population ever come together as a community if the lesbians are busy defending their couches, the gay men are stuck in their corners, the bisexuals are left wandering and the transfolk are in another room altogether? To make this even more overwhelming, what about those who don't fit into the categories of LGB or T but also don't fit into the "straight" group either?

Friday, October 5, 2007

"The Invitation"

"The Invitation" by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow, if you have been opened up by life’s betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed by fear or further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself, and not betray your own soul, if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty, everyday and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, mine or your own, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver moon, “YES!” It doesn’t interest me where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.