17 years ago
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
A Tale of Gender: Part 2 Change
This second time is much harder. People don't accept me as easily as they did before. Some days I struggle just to even be recognized. I was a woman once before. Well, not a woman per se, more of a girl really. I was born that way, I think. Then, somewhere in childhood, I decided to participate in this great social experiment that would turn me into a young man. It turned out to be less glamorous than it was promised to be. The entire time was awkward and unpredictable, pressured and embarrassing. Sadly, it was far harder to quit the experiment than it had been to get into it. I wanted to give up once or twice but found myself too restricted and confined to do so. So, I slowly managed to get out. A little bit here and there; whatever I could find to help. But, as I said, this second time is much harder. People don't accept me as easily as they did before. Some days I struggle just to even be recognized. That would all be the result of the male hormones I got when I was younger. They changed my body. It doesn't work the same the other way around though. Even after getting it all switched around again- it all takes so much time. Some days are better than others. Some days I think that it would be easier to return to the experimental programming- to letting myself be turned into someone I'm not. I don't think that'll happen though. I'm back as the way I was meant to be. And this time I'm here to stay.
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?
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.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
The Origin Of Love
There is a land now fallen silent that once teamed with motion. Fluid motion, skillfully coreographed, precisely executed, beautiful to behold. And in this land there once poured forth a beautiful and enchanting music. Free, flowing, melodic, moving. The people who once lived here were happy and carefree. They laughed and they sang and they frolicked about. But for all their joy they knew not of love. They lacked the one emotion. And none knew why.
None knew why they lived in small houses in groups of three or four. None knew why some swelled up and burst forth with another child. And none knew why.
The peaceful bliss was soon ended. And with the bliss went their ignorance. Outsiders began exploring. Clothing was introduced and makeup and vanity and greed and theft and hate and disease. And suddenly they all knew why.
With the darkness that came there came a great pressure to leave. To find somewhere else that was like the old land. To find some way to forgive themselves for allowing this to happen. Yet they realized their past was lost. And they all knew why.
Split up and wandering, each in turn remembered the carefree days of song, and joy, and mirth. In that moment each sensed a new emotion- one of strong desire and high regard. And in that moment love was felt. And the reason for the peaceful previous existance was known.
Although each may continue to wander, searching for their lost companions they at least carry the memory of the land that is now silent. And they carry the songs. And they carry love. And that wandering creates hope and spreads love. And we all should know why.
The origin of love.
None knew why they lived in small houses in groups of three or four. None knew why some swelled up and burst forth with another child. And none knew why.
The peaceful bliss was soon ended. And with the bliss went their ignorance. Outsiders began exploring. Clothing was introduced and makeup and vanity and greed and theft and hate and disease. And suddenly they all knew why.
With the darkness that came there came a great pressure to leave. To find somewhere else that was like the old land. To find some way to forgive themselves for allowing this to happen. Yet they realized their past was lost. And they all knew why.
Split up and wandering, each in turn remembered the carefree days of song, and joy, and mirth. In that moment each sensed a new emotion- one of strong desire and high regard. And in that moment love was felt. And the reason for the peaceful previous existance was known.
Although each may continue to wander, searching for their lost companions they at least carry the memory of the land that is now silent. And they carry the songs. And they carry love. And that wandering creates hope and spreads love. And we all should know why.
The origin of love.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
A Close Call
Tonight I went out to a dance with friends. It was alot of fun. Afterwards, a bunch of us all went out for some greasy food. We created a stir to say the least. It was a stir because we went into a truckers joint and because of who we were. I was with gay men, lesbians, and others and they were all dressed in various semi-halloween get-ups (lots of make-up, corsets, leather collars, etc.) One other person and myself went in formal gowns (jewels, long gloves, sashes- the works). The staff at this burger joint were very accommodating and extremely nice.
I wish the same could be said for the other patrons. As we were checking out a nearby table was quite loudly making guesses as to my gender. I was just going to ignore them and leave but one of my friends wouldn't have it. He went up to the table and asked them if they would like for him to just tell them the answer so they could stop guessing. They hummed and hawwed but said they would like to know. So he gave them a dumbed down version of sex vs. gender. They apologized for being rude.
A second table was being just as loud except they were being very degrading in their comments. My friend approached that table too. He told them that their loud judgements were extremely offensive. They asked him "who the fuck are you?" He responded that he was someone who was "judging the fuck out of you for judging the fuck out of them, but I'm not going to be verbal about it."
I love my friend.
(Thanks Kyle!!!)
I wish the same could be said for the other patrons. As we were checking out a nearby table was quite loudly making guesses as to my gender. I was just going to ignore them and leave but one of my friends wouldn't have it. He went up to the table and asked them if they would like for him to just tell them the answer so they could stop guessing. They hummed and hawwed but said they would like to know. So he gave them a dumbed down version of sex vs. gender. They apologized for being rude.
A second table was being just as loud except they were being very degrading in their comments. My friend approached that table too. He told them that their loud judgements were extremely offensive. They asked him "who the fuck are you?" He responded that he was someone who was "judging the fuck out of you for judging the fuck out of them, but I'm not going to be verbal about it."
I love my friend.
(Thanks Kyle!!!)
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Gender Fun
So today I went out grocery shopping. And I decided that I would also have a little fun with gender while doing so. The results were comical at best and angering at the worst.
I wore a simple outfit- nothing too showy and nothing too bizarre. It was a pair of white jeans with a white athletic shirt, a pair of sandals and a light purple sarong tied on around the waist. Nothing offensive.
While shopping, I had many many other shoppers looking me up and down. It was obvious that they were double checking because my lower half and my head didn't seem to go with my chest (or should I say lack thereof?). No, I did not even try to create an image of having breasts or cleavage. There were several couples out shopping and the husband would give me a double look causing the wife to give her husband a pissed-off look until she also got a look at me. Then she would look me up and down as well. Of course, I was just going about my normal purchases the whole time and didn't let on that I knew I was being watched.
As I was checking out at one store the cashier didn't know how to interact with me. She stared the entire time and did as much as she could without talking...which made it comical because I wrote checks so the cashier had to talk to me in order to process the check.
At the second store I went to as I was walking down the aisle an employee walked past me. At first she just gave me the one-over and kept pace going by...I knew she wasn't satisfied though so I turned my head just enough so I could catch her out of the corner of my eye as she did a complete turn-about behind me so she could look again.
The most angering part was as I was checking out at one place. The line I was in was right by the entrance to the store. As people walked in I could hear them as their conversations abruptly stopped and then continued once they were past me. Several other people actually scoffed and commented that I was "wrong" for what I was doing.
The saving grace of my community was one older woman I walked past on my way to my car. She had lots of time to look me over ans size me up as I walked through the parking lot. As she got to me she smiled a genuine smile and we both kept on our ways.
This last part leads me to a further question. From the woman's smile, I could tell that she liked/approved/enjoyed what I was doing yet she didn't say anything. I know there were others in the stores who supported me (or would have supported me) as well if it came to it....yet none of them approached me or said anything. As best as I could tell, the woman who smiled didn't say anything because she was nervous about what to say to me. Afraid she had misjudged me perhaps? Regardless of whether I was purposely playing with gender or if I were just an underdeveloped girl, why should she have felt afraid of saying hello? I don't bite!
I wore a simple outfit- nothing too showy and nothing too bizarre. It was a pair of white jeans with a white athletic shirt, a pair of sandals and a light purple sarong tied on around the waist. Nothing offensive.
While shopping, I had many many other shoppers looking me up and down. It was obvious that they were double checking because my lower half and my head didn't seem to go with my chest (or should I say lack thereof?). No, I did not even try to create an image of having breasts or cleavage. There were several couples out shopping and the husband would give me a double look causing the wife to give her husband a pissed-off look until she also got a look at me. Then she would look me up and down as well. Of course, I was just going about my normal purchases the whole time and didn't let on that I knew I was being watched.
As I was checking out at one store the cashier didn't know how to interact with me. She stared the entire time and did as much as she could without talking...which made it comical because I wrote checks so the cashier had to talk to me in order to process the check.
At the second store I went to as I was walking down the aisle an employee walked past me. At first she just gave me the one-over and kept pace going by...I knew she wasn't satisfied though so I turned my head just enough so I could catch her out of the corner of my eye as she did a complete turn-about behind me so she could look again.
The most angering part was as I was checking out at one place. The line I was in was right by the entrance to the store. As people walked in I could hear them as their conversations abruptly stopped and then continued once they were past me. Several other people actually scoffed and commented that I was "wrong" for what I was doing.
The saving grace of my community was one older woman I walked past on my way to my car. She had lots of time to look me over ans size me up as I walked through the parking lot. As she got to me she smiled a genuine smile and we both kept on our ways.
This last part leads me to a further question. From the woman's smile, I could tell that she liked/approved/enjoyed what I was doing yet she didn't say anything. I know there were others in the stores who supported me (or would have supported me) as well if it came to it....yet none of them approached me or said anything. As best as I could tell, the woman who smiled didn't say anything because she was nervous about what to say to me. Afraid she had misjudged me perhaps? Regardless of whether I was purposely playing with gender or if I were just an underdeveloped girl, why should she have felt afraid of saying hello? I don't bite!
Monday, June 12, 2006
A Little Boy Lost In The Woods
Once upon a time in a fairy kingdom far away there lived a little boy. I say little because he was smaller than all the other boys in his class but he was still much bigger than the hobbits and elves and fairies from in the wood.
One day this boy had a hard day at school. He got picked on for being so small. His classmates told him he was too small to be useful for anything. So, he cried and ran into the woods. It wasn't long before he realized he was lost. It didn't matter how hard he tried to find the way out of the woods- he couldn't find the way.
In his searching, the little boy came across a hobbit who was picking strawberries. The hobbit had picked so many berries it couldn't carry them all. The boy offered to help carry them. All of the berries fit neatly into the boys cupped hands and the two walked to the hobbits house together. The hobbit pointed the way out of the woods and the boy continued on.
Soon, he came across an elf who was stuck under a fallen tree and couldn't get out. The little boy was able to pick up the sapling and the elf got out. Again, the boy was pointed to the way out and on he went.
Just when he thought he was getting out of the forest, the boy heard a cry for help. A fairy had flown into a spiders web that was up between two trees. The little boy was too short to reach the web and he thought he was no good. But the fairy talked to him. The fairy said that we are all really only as small as we feel and that the boy could do whatever he wanted to- he just had to try. The boy wasn't too sure but he wanted to help the fairy. So he closed his eyes and imagined he could reach the fairy. He couldn't believe it! The little boy could feel the fairy's hand grabbing his finger! The fairy was free! Theo boy opened his eyes to see how he did it but all he saw was the fairy in front of him and the spiders web still way up high.
The fairy winked and pointed out to the boy how he had been big enough to help the hobbit and the elf and that he just needed to remember he was as good as any of the other boys. It doesn't matter how little of how big we are. The important part is how little or how big we feel. The fairy gave the boy a kiss and at last the boy was shown the way back home. From that day on it never bothered him when the kids picked on him for being small. He felt proud of what he did and what could do and that made him big.
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