Tag: gender

Transphobia’s on the Phone

Posted on by JAC

It was my first night out in months. About an hour in, I found myself in my third activist related conversation. Suddenly I received a text message from an unfamiliar number.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t thinking you can pass as a man with that pink hair. You look like a dumb fucking lesbian.”

It was like getting punched in the dark.

My first reaction was to brush it off. I didn’t even know who this person was, so why should I care what they think? They’re just some cowardly, transphobic jerk. I was sure I should ignore it, but my defensive nature got the better of me. I finally came up with an empowered reply:

“I don’t care who you are or what you think. You clearly don’t understand genderfucking.”

The response message said it was from someone who’s phone had been “messed with” after leaving it on a table. I didn’t respond because I didn’t know if I believed it. Either way, I wasn’t going to find out who it was. There would be no chance for me to defend my place on the genderqueer spectrum, or discuss the oppression of gender norms, or assert my political position of gender non-conformity. It was over.

The rest of the night, I was determined to continue having a good time… but I couldn’t help thinking about it. I still can’t help thinking about it. I still feel scared and shaken, like I’ve been though a fight. Curiosity quickly paired with paranoia. Who would send me this? How did they get my number? How did they know how to get under my skin? Who can’t I trust?

I’ve decided to get over it. I’ve always known it was a matter of time before something like this happened. Its not like I’ve never been hassled before; in the bathroom, at the bar, in school, at parties… You’d think it wouldn’t bother me anymore.

I’m sticking with the attitude that this isn’t a big deal. I’m gonna make it not bother me. In the grand scheme of things, an offensive text is nothing. Really, I was lucky. I was lucky to get the anonymity of a text instead of face to face intimidation. I was lucky it wasn’t a punch in the stomach or an assault in the bathroom. I was lucky to walk away with only hurt feelings and shaken nerves. I was lucky to walk away at all.

cross-posted on AmplifyYourVoice.org

Parallel Universe

Posted on by JAC

There is a parallel universe I live beside. It is so close that it surrounds me, and yet I am not inside it.

I was looking through my spanish book, finding the answer to what the teacher was talking about. I wasn’t paying attention and longing for the clock hands to tick. I heard the teacher say something to one of the girls in the class. I got a nudge from the girl behind me and as i looked up i saw the teacher looking at me. “You, the new girl…” she said and continued to speak to me in spanish.

I listened, shrugging off my humiliation, ignoring how hot my face was getting. I gripped my hands to hide their sudden shaking as the insecurity and hurt set in. I will never understand why it always upsets me so much to get called out. To publicly not pass.

I reminded myself: No one else knows I’m not a girl. No one else understands that it’s wrong. To them, I’m just another female, probably one of those lesbian types. To them there is no discrepancy, no embarassment. They can’t really see me, only the distorted shell of me.

I got hit with a second shot at the end of class. The teacher said “I need the new girl to come up and give me her information.” I hate walks of shame.

When the room was empty I made an experiment. I told her “I’m not a girl, I’m a boy.” She apologized and said she wasn’t sure, but that I “had the face of a girl,” so she guessed I was a girl. She said she thought it was more likely I would be offended if I was a girl who got called a boy than if I were a boy who was called a girl. I didn’t see her logic. I explained how my name was different on the roster. She asked me why I didn’t go by the name on the roster. I’m not sure if she understood that my girl name was not a male name. I just said I prefered Jac and would rather not hassel with more than one name. She understood and started talking about cuba and her daughter. Apparently she had two names too. I think it all went over her head.

I walked out onto campus, still strange from the familiar experience. I felt as if I truely were walking along a one way mirror. My world was on my side, the rest was on the other. I told myself that someday there would be more vision, less confusion. People would see through the mirror and I would no longer be distorted. But today is not someday. Today is today.