Tag: language

Drag Culture and the Argument of Transmisogyny

Drag Culture and the Argument of Transmisogyny

Posted on by JAC

I received an “Ask” on my Tumblr page discussing drag as transmisogynistic. Below was my response and since I get a lot of questions about this, I felt it would be useful to cross-post it here.

“There are views that drag is transmisogynistic, yes. I understand why some folks have come to find drag as a weapon against trans people and I feel the reason for this is two fold: abuses from more privileged groups and a lack of historical context. I respect each person’s right to have their own opinions and have no wish to challenge or invalidate anyone. I think that when discussing whether drag is transmisogynistic or not, is important to remember a few things.

History: Historically, “drag” is very significant in the history of communities that, today, we would call trans and gender non-conforming queers. Genderbending is a global theatrical practice, but for sake of time I’ll speak about it in the USA. In the late 19th century until the early-mid 20th cent. “drag” was called female and male impersonation. The sway of theatrical cross-dressing to impersonation came with vaudeville and it included singing and dancing as well as genderbending. M/F Impersonation was seen as a both a way to worship gender as well as a way to play with it and it’s norms. In addition to being fun, the purpose was to make us all question about what truly is a man or a woman and do bodies and cultural expectations really mean as much as we think? Also, drag, as a craft, was the first venue for gender non-conforming people to create lives as their true selves. In the 1920s, for the first time ever people in the USA (as a colonized country) where able to bend gender and dress as they wanted, be who they wanted, and not be arrested or institutionalized. Granted, when the post-war puritanism took hold this was all taken away, but it did happen and it impacted millions of people. The development of the trans community came from two branches: hetero supported transsexualism (started around the 1940s) and queer community gender transgression (started at the beginning of time). Both are valid; both are real; both are equally important. Drag is a part of queer gender transgression and trans people would not have this community as we know it without the power we sized through drag. Drag has played, and continues to play, a very important role in both queer and trans visibility, community building, safer space creation, and artistic craft. To forget this, is to forget our elders who brought us here today.

Drag is a diverse, artistic craft: RuPaul’s Drag Race is not an all encompassing representation of drag; farthest thing from it. Drag is not only DMAB people in feminine expressions for performance (drag queens); It is also DMAB folks dressing in masculine expressions (drag kings); Trans people doing theater, or doing drag as other genders; gender performance art that uses gender to communicate messages (like what I do); uses of hyper femininity and hyper masculinity (such as burlesque and boylesque); and heterosexual people challenging gender norms. Drag is about the conversation of gender and it is queer. It is the ONLY artistic craft we can, without argument, claim as exclusively belonging to the queer and trans community. Even if a hetero person wants to do drag, they have to come into our space to do it; they have to be an ally. We use drag as a form of artistic expression, merrymaking, activism, and beauty to discuss how we are different from hetero people and how there are more similarities than the heteronormative system of power would ever want to admit. There is a disappearing understanding in white gay culture especially of the deep connection between gender and sexuality. Many years ago, our community understood the fluidity between maleness and femaleness and how that impacted our lives as queer people; that is where drag came from. It was a way for us to reflect our realities for our own eyes, out of reach of the hetero cis world that would rather see us dead. There were no gay tv shows, no trans people on magazines. There were drag stages. That was all we had. When I was coming out, it was all I had.

Language: By the mid-late 1960s and 1970s the trans movement was starting to take visible shape. By the 80s, the word “transgender” was slowly gaining more recognition and at its creation “transgender” included not just trans folks as we know them today (women, men, and non-binary folks) but also drag performers, gender non-conforming cis people (butch lesbians for example), and anyone else who transgressed gender. Drag performers, who were trans women and cis men or trans men and cis women, where considered linguistically interchangeable because, at the time, gender was defined by expression, not identity. Back then, it was impossible to draw a line between drag performers and trans people as a group – it could only be done by individuals (a good cultural example of this is Candy, who associated with Andy Warhol). The line did exist, and could be considered to exist as early as the 1950s, but it was squiggly, dashed, and in some points invisible; in some communities it is still like this today. It was not until the mid-2000s (after 2006) that transgender truly became focused on gender identity over gender expression. In addition to this, we MUST remember that trans is not a universal term. There are many folks, particularly in communities of color where gender and sexuality are not as cut apart as in white cultures, where trans is not used. There are masses of people (countless) who from an external view would be called trans (in particular, would be called trans women) but they call themselves drag queens. Many of these people live as women every day, take estrogen and have gender affirming surgeries; they are women, but they never call themselves trans. To rigidly consider drag as transmisogynistic is to erase the identities of people who are a part of our community. This issue of erasure causes significant obstacles in accessing resources, in particular for poor trans women of color who do not use the language doctors and government offices want to hear when asking for resources. We must also remember the role classism plays here. Many trans women, whether they self identity as that or not, make a living from being drag performers. Performing drag does not make a person any less trans or any less of themselves; we are no different from other trans people… except we may be more theatrically talented… :P  Anyway, it is critical that we continue to unpack the word “trans” and recognize that the definition and the experience is not the same for everyone.

Systems of Oppression: The connection of drag to transmisogyny primarily comes from, no surprise here, cissexist systems that refuse the realness of trans people, most visibly trans women. The “men in dresses” issue is very old, but the connection between drag and trans women is relatively new. Trans identities where not generally visible to society until the 60s, and not even by much then. During that time, and as transgender branched from transsexual, drag performers and now identified trans folks visibly populated the same spaces. This proximity lead oppressors (straight and gay) to use drag as a method of attack on trans women, and to a lesser degree trans men (there where no words for non-binary back then). Oppression has also been promoted by cis-gay communities and cis drag performers. A sticking point that is often mentioned is the use of the T-word which we see unapologetically used in drag spaces more than nearly anywhere else (it bothers me too). The reason for this (note I say reason, not excuse) comes from two sources.

1- As I mentioned, trans historically belongs to both what we consider modern trans people AND drag performers which meant that at one time the t-word was owned by both. (When looking at the use of the t-word in porn-exploitation, it is likely that cis people got the t-word from trans people themselves and then began to fetishize it.) This is why so many drag performers, in particular queens, hold on to the t-word with their teeth and aggressively think they can use it/claim it. One would think that people would recognize that language evolves… one would hope folks would understand that what was “ok” 20-40 years ago is not necessarily “ok” today, but unfortunately some people have not figured that out yet…much to our chagrin.  Which leads me to the 2nd primary reason oppression can be found buried within drag culture…

2 – Basic cissexist privilege; Most drag performers feel a deep connection to their drag characters and they were/are unable/unwilling to understand how someone, often who was/is a fellow performer, may be different from them. Essentially, “I’m wearing the same outfit as you and I’m not a woman which means you can’t be one either. So, I’m gonna say whatever I want and invalidate you – but it’s all in good funnnneeeehhhhhh-barf…” Male privilege rears it head in horrific, twisted ways in drag communities, which many find ironic considering that the people expressing this male privilege are men expressing as women – and some folks are actually trans women and trans men. There are many layers of privilege, sexism, racism, (all the isms) in drag culture; to those of us within that culture, it is a never-ending fight and conversation about how we can do right by our people through drag. In order for us to continue this important, historical craft as a method of empowerment, we have to push it to grow in social justice.

One other system of oppression that helped develop concerns of drag = transmisogyny is the heteronormative gender binary. A significant root for the vilification of drag as a weapon upon trans people is from transsexual separatists. Transsexual separatists do not want any form of gender non-conformity present in the community; they feel that if the identities of others do not perfectly align with their own, their personal identities are invalidated. They also feel that any non-binary or genderbending identity or expression will destroy their own legitimacy in the eyes of greater society. When I came out, this was usually manifested in the phrase, “You’re fucking it up for the rest of us.” Many transsexual separatists took an active role in demonizing drag as a threat to trans women and even carried it as far as demonizing any trans woman who where queer or visible trans activist, including people like Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson. The saddest part about this is that many of the people they targeted where trans women themselves, albeit ones who were poor, queer, and people of color who either where no able or did not wish to “transition” in the way power systems saw as legitimate. Sound familiar to anyone? Cause it should.

Again, I feel it is up to the individual to decide their feelings and opinions. I readily agree that there are parts of the drag community that are transmisogynistic and that many cis views of drag and trans women are often transmisogynistic. That doesn’t mean that drag as a cultural practice, or a historical experience, is by default transmisogynistic. And through I have directly experienced a lot of transphobia and cissexism in the drag community (and I mean A LOT), I still speak from my own place of privilege as a DFAB person. The history of trans misogyny has had less of an impact on my experience than it has on my friends who are trans women. All of that said, I still think it is very important that as our community gets younger, we continue to look back at our history. It is critical for us all to understand where we came from, which includes the importance of drag in a historical context as well as a modern craft. Different strokes for different folks, but we are all within the same community.”

For anyone who is curious; yes, I do have two workshop lectures on this subject so that is why this post is so thorough and organized. lol”

Obama Could Do Better, But Better Him Than Me

Posted on by JAC

The gay community is a buzz over Obama’s mention of gay rights in his inaugural address, stating he wanted equality for “our gay brothers and sisters.” My internet feeds are full of “thank you, Obama” posts and happy memes are already flooding facebook and tumblr, but I won’t be reblogging them. Not to be that person who always finds something to pick at, but let’s be real: I am totally that person. At the risk of getting tiny, rainbow-colored USA flags thrown at me, I have to say I don’t think Obama’s speech was the best thing ever. Yes, it was good. I would even call it great, but I can think of at least one way that it could have been a whole lot better.

You all know what I’m going to say, and I am sure most of you already thought of this yourselves. Obama’s quote “gay brothers and sisters” doesn’t include trans* people, among others. I know, I know. I am sure he was using ‘gay’ to represent the big acronym, but still; If you’re gonna talk about inclusion, your language should be inclusive. Obama has used the expression LGBT before, and he has used the words transgender and gender identity and expression. He knows what they are, and based on his work, conceptually understands the difference. Still, he cut corners and said “gay” and that is annoying. I’ve already run into some folks talking down at me saying “well, you shouldn’t negate the significance of this… The language isn’t that important…” But that is really easy to say if you got counted. If you didn’t, you’re gonna be sitting on the sidelines saying “WTF?” Like I said, I understand the significance of what he said. That doesn’t mean it was significant enough to make me feel recognized. Not trying to sound greedy, but he is MY president who is running MY country. I voted for him, so I think I have a right to want more. Gay is a big word and, like Queer, it means a lot. I use Queer to wrap trans* and “gay” together commonly, but if I am teaching a lecture, writing a speech, or promoting an argument, you better believe I am sure to note the differences between the communities. It may sound picky, but it is relevant. Relevance is what counts in an argument  and when Obama did his speech, he was promoting the argument that “gay” rights mattered. He was speaking to the nation, but he was also attempting to speak to our community and say “I see you.”  But for a transgender person who is straight and doesn’t mesh with the LGBT umbrella, that speech did not speak to them. To a person who is genderqueer and the gendered words “brothers and sisters” feels more erasing than embracing, that speech did not speak to them. For a trans* person who sees “gay” as close to their heart, but not a descriptor of their own identity, that speech did not speak to them. I could create the same argument for pansexuals, asexuals, bisexuals, intersex people, fluid folks, the list goes on because there is a lot about our language that is lacking. My point isn’t about tiny details of what isn’t ‘correct’ in his speech. It is that the Trans* community is a separate community from gay, despite how we may overlap. So if we talk about inclusion, we we have to recognize relevant differences. We won’t ever accomplish change if we don’t continue to lovingly push ourselves and others to do better.

Overall, I dig Obama. And when I say I “dig” Obama, that is with the disclaimer that I can never “dig” a president without clarifying that I know that, above all, Obama is a politician. When I was a baby-activist working in the  early 2000s anti-war movement, politicians burned me. I can’t say I ever really put my faith in the governmental system, but there was a time when I was really invested in it, and it broke my heart. I can’t feel mad about it now because the scar I got then spurred me into a lifelong dedication to grassroots, community focused organizing. I learned that while we can technically never trust anyone to do what we know to be right, there are value systems we can work inside to enhance our chances.  I can 100% stand behind a cause or a movement because it is about values, but when you talk about backing a person who is fallible and corruptible, it’s a whole different story. In order to find trust in another person, we must find common values. In activism, the foundational value is making change for the greater good. Politicians are different animal, more dependent on the ebb and flow of society, their political party, and their funders than one would find advisable for a so-called impartial representative of the masses. I’m not trying to outright hate on politicians and say that they are too soulless to be activists. Many politicians are also activists and there are many activists who work in politics. There are also plenty (too many) activists that are really politicians (and are in the wrong field). I find that often we make the mistake of assuming that politicians are by default activists. They are not. Activists and politicians have many shared qualities; Both conceptually work for the greater good by using their intellectual power and social talents to gain resources and accomplish change, and most foundationally, they are serving something larger than themselves. The difference is the end game;  For politicians, the winning goal is look out for #1. Politicians can be bought and sold, they can be controlled, and they can be destroyed. Not every president is an activist, but every President is a politician. Politicians work for themselves, and they work for their party. They can only go as far as their political advisers will let them. Obama surely has his own interests (personal and professional) in supporting the “gay” community, but you better believe that if it started to cause too much trouble he would drop us like a hot coal. It is entirely possible that he purposefully didn’t use the word “transgender” because he considered it to be too controversial. Politicians may have inner ethics, but they have to challenge them to the point of erasing them sometimes. Admittedly, activists are not inherently “good” either. The KKK is an activist organization (shudder). But if we aim this conversation at a drive to succeed for the “greater good” as we, social justice advocates, understand it, then we can talk about activism as a positive force. Now, I am speaking as an activist  so I am without a doubt glorifying the trade, but someone’s gotta do it. Unlike politicians, your average activist goes about their work speaking loudly for about a cause and staying relatively silent about themselves. Activists are not about #1; they are about #10000000000001. It is about making the big see the small, helping the quiet be loud, and showing the weak that weakness is just another kind of strength. Now you might argue that a politician can do all those things too, and you’d be right. But as you can see by my beautiful graph, the differences between politicians and activists are small, but significant. Also, there is a significant overlap between politicians and non-profit organizations, which can result in more positive or negative effects depending on how the organization is run. Politics and activism are woven together, and also placed far apart.

activists vs politicians

I know I’m giving politicians a hard time here, but there is a reason for it. We all know the saying that politics are dirty, and so politicians, who engage in politics, by default must be even dirtier. And while I would consider (possibly with some self-serving naivete) that Obama is one of the “cleaner” presidents our country has had, I’m not fooled. He is a US President; he is going to kill people, buy weapons, ignore problems; he is going to bargain (healthcare bill), he is going to compromise (troops overseas), and he is going to play games in the fucked up playground that is the international market/war field. No US President is a perfect humanitarian. The way we run the world makes it impossible and until we, the human race, find ourselves able to value humanity over money or power or fear, it will always be that way. Since I have no direct sense of control of how Obama, or any other politician will act, how honorable they will be, if what they say is what they mean, or if they mean what they say, I’ll always be giving politicians the sideways eye unless they can prove otherwise, which FYI a couple folks have. Still, I will never 100% stand behind a true politician, no matter how many vocab words they know. And no matter how much I may work in policy, lobby, campaign, and canoodle in the politics game, I will never be a politician. However, I will vote for one because I understand that in this system, change can not live by activism alone. Someone has to be willing to not only play the politics game, but become an actual political player, and just like anything, it is a balance of gifts and sacrifices. I can, will, and do sacrifice a lot for the sake of activism, and the things I can and won’t do, people like Obama will. And in his own facilitation of the politician craft, Obama has been able to do what no one else has. His inaugural speech, and his administration in general,  have majorly recognized and supported the intersectional LGBTQPIA movement(s). He has been steering his administration far beyond lip-service that other presidents rarely even attempted. He has proven to be more that just a one-trick pony by continuing to promote the conversation and actively participating in significant policy changes as well as promoting cultural changes that make people, including trans* people, trust him. This past year, many trans* organizers, myself included, worked to re-elect Obama, not just because the alternative would set back our movement, but because we actually believe that for the first time a president could realistically help propel it forward.  While I am a realist about who and what Obama is, I appreciate the unprecedented effort Obama has made for us. He does all the shit I can’t and won’t do, and he’s made it to a pretty good place. Now, do it better.

Learning How to Talk Trans

Posted on by JAC

Yesterday I found a quote in my Tumblr feed and was surprised to find that the person being quoted was me. You might be thinking, “oh cool, you’re like, famous… in that ‘I’m on tumblr’ sort of way…” And while I’m appreciative that something I have said has touched people, I’m not excited about it like I maybe could/should be. I’m not ashamed of the quote, but I’m not exactly proud of it either.

“We’re two boys, which makes us gay; and then we’re two female-bodied people, which makes us gay; and then we’re trans, which makes us, you know, a whole other side of gay. And so you have this whole trifecta of queerness working for us. So when someone drives by and screams “faggot” I’m just like “you have no fuckin’ IDEA!”

The quote is sourced from the video GenderQueer in the Midwest, which was filmed in early 2009 by Stewart Productions. Overall, the quote is fine. While I’ve never thought it was an exceptionally clever comment, the only concern I have is that the language isn’t what I would consider the best example inclusive, accessible language.  The video is a nice little project, but it is definitely a portrait of a younger, less educated me. One of the downsides of being a published writer/speaker is that your past blunders are out in the universe, completely beyond your reach for correction or follow-up. I want to jump on this opportunity to clarify my language, and own that a lot of the terms/perspectives I express in this video are what I would now consider outdated and (at some points) kinda problematic. The language I used back then is drastically different from how I speak now. This video is an example of how a person can have the same goals and intentions, but learn to talk about them in very different ways.

Since coming out, I have made it a regular priority to stay up on language and identity politics of the trans* community in order to be as representative and “politically correct” in my work as possible. Doesn’t mean I always have gotten it right. 2009 wasn’t that long ago, but so many things have changed our community in that very short time. With the growth of things like tumblr and heightened media visibility, I think we fool ourselves into thinking that trans* educational resources are easily accessible, and that they have always been easily accessible. My early years out as a trans person were poignantly defined by significant struggles to find information, both for myself and for other people. My situation then was similar to how I live now; I was in the Midwest and wasn’t around a lot of trans* people regularly. The difference was in the greater trans* community environment; what it was talking about and how easy it was to hear what was being said. My learning disabilities make me a weak reader, so I’ve never successfully capitalized on what seems to be an isolated queer’s best ticket to education: books. There weren’t really any major online media sources to spew all the new words and opinions in the trans* community like we have now in tumblr and twitter, and there certainly wasn’t much visibility for voices similar to mine who challenged the binary, gender normalcy, and oppressive systems. I knew that the systems presented to me were problematic, but I hadn’t found the language to talk about it yet. So, I used the old terms I was given, like “female bodied,” all the while knowing there had to be a better option out there. And I wasn’t alone, this is how most of us spoke back then, and a lot of us were frustrated about it. The years around 2008-2010 brought a lot of changes for the trans* community’s language  and more new words started to appear including transmasculine/transfeminine and a wider use of genderqueer. Within a few months of that video being filmed, I had a whole new vocabulary to use different words to describe myself and others. Guess we should have waited a little longer to immortalize me on youtube…

One of the biggest obstacles I run into as an educator and as an organizer is language differences. It is hard to unite a community that can’t even agree what to call ourselves. Most of us are never taught what to say all at once, and even then we may not be satisfied with the lesson plan. No joke, every year or two the trans* community rejects a term or phrase used to describe ourselves, and replaces it with a new one. And as confusing as it may be, this is a necessary process. Because we, the trans* community, are always changing, our language must continue to change too. Since language is subjective, I don’t think I have the right to say that there are certain “bad” or “wrong” words in our community. However, I do strongly feel that some concepts are more useful or inclusive than others, and that a couple words may be better off retired. A lot of our language is based on “old” ideas rooted in gender normalcy and oppression, like the idea that there are only two genders, that being trans* is a mental illness, or the requirements for how we label our bodies and experiences based on a dominant narrative. Language is used to represent the realities of our community, describe our identities, and communicate our needs. If the language is too outdated to accurately describe us, both conceptually and contextually, it becomes useless or even harmful.  Doesn’t mean we have to give up on any “old” words if we like them, but in order for things to change, we must be brave enough to learn new things.

What is especially interesting is that while the language I use in the video may seem outdated to me, for many people in the trans* community, this is still the most common language. Forget 2009. Today, in 2012, I hear terms like “female bodied” or “bio male” more frequently than anything else. Many trans* people I meet don’t think of bodies and sex as socially constructed; they don’t know (or believe) that that gender identity is a spectrum and not a binary; and they never thought that they could or should expand their gender expression outside of gender norms. This is the TRANS* people I meet; don’t even try to guess about the non-trans* folks. This is an understandably frustrating reality for folks who are working hard to support and change our community. An unfortunate result of this is that there is a lot of judgment and aggression surrounding whether or not people use the “right” language. I am a little surprised that the most criticism my quote seems to have gotten is a comment about transmisogyny. I am grateful it hasn’t gotten worse because, yikes, those Tumblr attacks are vicious! (Honestly, part of the purpose of this post is to hopefully circumvent any such thing from happening.) And while I understand the motivation and passion behind strictly calling people out for using the “wrong” language, I think we could adopt some better methods to promote education and accountability. What we see is people trying to promote uphold a safe space in the community and teach people how to speak using inclusive language. What we don’t see is the educational privilege that is being thrown around, and the impact it has on our people when it lands. Maybe this is my Midwestern baggage showing, but no one ever sat me down and told me the right things to say, or explained why it was right to say them. I had to figure it out on my own. This seems to be the majority of people’s experiences, and yet we continue to hold ourselves to unrealistic and unforgiving high standards. The commonly forgotten reality is that our community’s masses are not in San Francisco vegan co-ops or liberal arts college classrooms where talking about misogyny, privilege, and appropriation is the norm. They are hanging out at the local bar, or the hippie coffee shop, or on the massive 50,000 student campus in the middle of nowhere using whatever words they can get their hands on to describe the confusing, often painful experience that is being different, and being trans*.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk about language or correct people when they say something problematic or outdated. If I was saying that, I’d be out of a job. What I am saying is that we must look at language, and its uses, with a broader lens. If you come out and you don’t know what to type into google, the only words you may find are on an outdated geocities website; maybe the only trans* people you know are 40 years your senior so you use whatever words they use. Those “old” concepts will become yours because they are all you have. Maybe going to queer conferences isn’t your thing; maybe you never looked up what gender neutral pronouns were because you didn’t even know they existed. This doesn’t make you a bad person, and it doesn’t make you stupid. It just means you are under-educated due to a lack of resources. I will boldly state that being under-educated or generally isolated is not an excuse for problematic language or a free pass to say whatever you want because it “is not your fault” because you “didn’t know any better.” That is not living responsibly. What I am saying is that the isolation and lack of education our people experience en masse is one of many reasons why language discrepancies occur and why the words we wish would die out continue to survive. Is it reasonable to punish a child for using a swear word when they had no idea what it meant? And if we punish before asking, how do we know what the child was actually trying to say? If we can figure out where a person is coming from, the better we will be at meeting them where they are and it is only by meeting someone where they are, that we can ever hope to bring them to where we would all like to be going.

I make no excuses for myself or the language I use in this video. I am also trying very hard to not punish myself for it either. This video is a portrait of me at a different time when I was still clamoring for the knowledge that others already had, but I couldn’t figure out how to get for myself. I changed the way I speak not because it was easy or convenient, but because I knew the words I was using weren’t enough. I pushed myself to find as much information as I could, where ever I could. I recognize my education to be a privilege I have been afforded. I also know that the knowledge I have obtained it is a right I fought hell and high water to get (and keep). And despite the fact that I did fight for it, I don’t think I have done anything more than what we all should be able to do. Language is so powerful that learning just one word can change you forever. We all deserve the chance to understand ourselves better. Language is a tool. It can be a crutch we cling to for security or a cage that suffocates us; it can be used to punish us, and it can be used to empower us so that we may live the lives we never thought were possible. An old, rusted tool will break when you try to use it; maybe it will injure you; or it might even destroy whatever it is you are trying to build. But language is not like any other tool or object; language is alive and we have to feed it in order to keep it active and useful. And like any living thing, we cannot control it entirely, but we can guide it with the most positivity possible. Language has no body or shape. It exists only in us. Therefore, we are responsible for it. I ask forgiveness for all my past and inevitable future fuck ups that may or may not be immortalized by the internet. I must own the language I use, including apologizing for what was or wasn’t said. I promise to continue to learn without fear, and I will strive to teach without judgement. If we call can do this, we will easily learn all we need in order to improve our community, and our own lives too.

Tranny Talks: Pop Culture's Ricochet Response to Trans Visibility

Tranny Talks: Pop Culture’s Ricochet Response to Trans Visibility

Posted on by JAC

You all may know me to be a little on the… aggressive side when it comes to calling media and celebrities out on transphobic ignorance. Recently, I’ve been trying to go the more relaxed route, not because I didn’t crave to throw fits about every slur, but since the gigantic influx of transphobic actions in mainstream, I was getting exhausted. But exhaustion aside, once again I’m saying “I’ve had enough.” What broke the camel’s back this time? Last week on Access Hollywood, former N’Sync star Lance Bass (who does look strikingly similar to a fish) pulled out the “T word,” the growing nomenclature for tranny, and this episode of ignorance says more about transphobia than one word can handle.

(starts at 2:20 minutes – UPDATE the video on the site may be taken down)

What’s so different about Lance Bass from Kelly Osborne or Neil Patrick Harris using the word? Nothing. It’s all the same, and though this event is very similar to Neil Patrick Harris’ usage, I find it much more insulting. In addition to the use of the word, those involved also found it necessary to mock our entire community’s plight against our oppressors. Comedian Billy Eichner, whose talent seems to be primarily based on yelling, comments on how tranny isn’t in fashion anymore, and I would give him props for that, but his statement of “really, really gay” being the replacement kinda ruined it. It is a fascinating scene really, watching three adults giggle like ten year olds who accidentally used a dirty word. And, like any ten year olds, their solution to their misbehavior was to laugh at it and blame someone else for their inability to say it. “Oops! we’ve made a mistake, those people don’t like that word, but who understands those trannies, anyway?!” Thanks, TV personalities, good save. Obviously, your public image is all that matters here, not the fact that you are a oppressive idiots with bad hair (WTF is with hair gel city you’re building over there?). Oh, and PS: Lance, I wouldn’t suggest you attempt to rock purple velvet, you’re not glam enough for it.

Now, all you Lance fans out there may be thinking, “Hey, he apologized! It’s all ok now!” And I appreciate all six of you pointing that out, but it is not all ok. The apology is good to have, but before we accept the apology we have to analyze the mistake, otherwise we can’t learn from it. I think the most interesting, and important, part of this case of transphobia is the exemplary performance of oppressors trying to deal with ignorance. When you watch the clip, listen to the language being used: trans* folks are just “they,” not the transgender community. Why? Well it is because they didn’t even KNOW what else to call us. Hi there, cookie-cutter TV personality lady, did you really just ask “What’s the new word?” It is “A Transgender Person” and Lance, I can see why you all missed the “memo,” the word has only been around for about THIRTY YEARS or in the case of the word Transsexual almost ONE HUNDRED years. But you know, it takes time to learn. it’s not like you’re a member of the “LGBT” community or anything. Oh, wait, you are. I guess you always thought that T stood for Tranny. You do “love a good o’l tranny.”

The exploding use of tranny in mainstream isn’t a coincidence. It is happening because trans* visibility is getting higher, and (consciously or not) non-trans* society is starting to panic. The use of slurs and other public forms of oppression (like political wedge issues) is society trying to deal with our communities’ push for rights and recognition. Pop culture is politics dripping down into the mainstream masses, and that is why it is so dangerous. In the big picture, I guess we should be somewhat excited about it. The growing visibility of tranny is a result of our trans* communities’ sucessful visibility; we’ve gone from being mostly invisible to the hot-topic butt of jokes, and we have been for a couple years now. So, under this idea, all this transphobia on TV could be seen as a ‘growing pain’ for the trans* communities’ arduous climb up the cliff of civil rights. If television had been prominent in the early 20th century, we can be sure that racial slurs would have been all over it. And even though direct, verbal prejudice was lower in TV and movies before and during the civil rights movement, racism itself was very prevalent and it hasn’t gone away yet. It is just lessening  over time as society lazily gets its act together. What has to happen for media to move into a less-oppressive space? First, people start to use the slurs because it is topical; “Haha!  I get the joke! I feel cool because I know who I’m oppressing!” (That is what oppressors think, right?)  Then the accountability starts. All three celebrities (Harris, Osborne, and Bass) have issued public apologies for using the word tranny, and even go as far as to advocate others not to use it. When it comes to public accountability, an education-promoting apology is about as good as it gets. But, and you know there has to be a but, these apologies don’t really make me feel better – they usually just irritate me more. Can we take a look at Lance Bass’ apology? It is full of gender essentialism and stereotypes, including the widely recognized un-PC term transvestite and the wrong body myth. Then, he talks about how it was really ok that he said tranny because he knows trans* people – yeah, rationalization and excuses for why the mistake is ok are awesome elements in any apology. He also pretends to be smart by discussing how people of color and gay people debate about using the n-word and f-word (respectively). It’s “just words,” no big deal, why can’t he use it?  Um, for starters, you’re not fucking trans*, Lance. Your gay card of doesn’t get you in. Despite his claimed “education” from GLAAD, this guy clearly has no clue about the trans* community or our struggles. Many people say I’m being too critical and I should be grateful for a well-meant apology. GLAAD was all too happy to bend over for Neil Patrick Harris’ “heartening” TWO LINE twitter apology, acting like sycophants to fame… Some queers go into activism saying “beggars can’t be choosers.” Well, I’m not begging for my rights, I’m fighting for them. I refuse to take less than what a human being deserves, and we deserve the best. And though these apologies aren’t the best, they are extremely important. Without them Billy No-Talent-Comedian would never of mentioned that tranny wasn’t ok and, despite the insulting follow up, it was acknowledged to be offensive. That is a big first step for society – the awareness that there is another voice. Of course, some celebrities  make zero attempts to be accountable, and unless we keep fighting, that is going to continue to happen for a very long time. Society isn’t going to change on its own, we have to chisel our way in through activist feedback and forced accountability.

I’ve said it once if I’ve said it a million times, that mainstream media, needs to shut the fuck up on trans* issues, but maybe I should rethink that. Maybe I should sit back and enjoy the squirming celebrity mistakes and think of society’s failures as a tool for our revolution. The downside is that while we are waiting for society to get it’s act together, how many people will be misinformed, adding to the mass of oppression and miseducation? And how many trans* folks have to be injured by these oppressions before it enough is enough? The saying goes “You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.” In that, societal rights and recognition for the future’s trans* people are the omelet, today’s trans* people are the eggs. But I refuse to be broken. The future’s just going to have to learn to make civil rights tofu scrambles.

 

 

Why Almost Everyone is Queer

Posted on by JAC

More than once, and at a growing rate, people ask me about my uses of the words queer and genderqueer, raising concerns that I may be encouraging appropriation of these terms. It is a fascinating topic and I’m always glad to discuss it, but I’ll admit that it pains me a little whenever it is brought up.  Why would anyone not want to share the word queer? Now, you might be thinking “JAC, you know it is not that simple.” And yes, I know it isn’t a simple situation, but is complicated or just complex? Unexpectedly, as a response to a question someone asked me on Tumblr, I formulated a response that does a decent job at encompassing my thoughts on it, but I felt the need to expand on it more.

Queer is a word that, in the most general sense, represents a lack of normalcy and cultural recognition/legitimization – most often directly related to personal sexuality and/or gender identity and expression. When I say “almost everyone is queer”, what I mean is that despite the projected norm, the majority of people have/are non-normative behaviors, expressions, and/or identities. An easy example of this is found in the sexuality research of Kinsey and Kline (whose studies have been repeated globally with the same results). Their research showed that the average person was somewhere on the non-heterosexual (or “queer”) spectrum. Is it considered normal for two people with similar bodies to partner with one another? No. Is it more normal for two people of increasingly different bodies to recognize the legitimacy of variance? No. Gender thickens the plot because there is such an immeasurable variance within gender identities and expressions. Is it normal for someone to identify outside the binary or as something other than what they were assigned at birth? Is that more or less normal than a male assigned at birth, male identified person who really loves to shop, make crafts, and is inclined to cry? Who is less normal? Who is more queer?

Now, even though it is probable that most people are objectively queer in some, that doesn’t mean that they are subjectivelyqueer – and in when speaking about identity, subjectivity is all that matters. No one can define our identity for us. I think that people don’t own queerness either because 1) they don’t feel it applies because of their proximity to normalcy and/or 2) they don’t know it could apply because of our culture’s rigid use of labels and related negative views personal exploration/flexibility of identity. This leads us to the other half of your comment about levels of oppression in experience. You ask if someone can be queer if they haven’t experienced certain oppressions. My question is who defines what oppressive experiences are required to be “queer?” We all experience varying levels of oppression and privileges – some more of one than the other. I think the issue is not whether or not someone is allowed to claim the identity of queer based on experiences of oppression, but whether a person recognizes their own experiences of oppression and privilege based on their identities. If you are appropriating something then you are claiming something that is not yours. Unlike cultural traits/practices or community words like tranny or fag, queer has no real definitive property other than a lack of normalcy (generally applied to gender/sexuality, but not always). Difference is a spectrum that no group or person can exclusively own which means there are an infinite number of ways to be queer. Because of this, I feel that queer is a word that is rarely appropriated. There is no way to decide that someone is not the identity they claim. You can assume they are not, you can even decide they are not based on your own definitions, but that doesn’t change the other person.

I’ll be honest, I am not as saintly as I appear, always welcoming people to come under the queer umbrella. I have hang-ups about what queer “should be” too. To me, being queer is more than having a non-normative sexuality/gender identity or expression; it is also about personal politic. Queer is more than LGBT; it is radical, proactive, and socially just. If someone claims queer but I don’t think they fit the bill, I will totally be a secret Judgey McJudgerface about it but I will challenge myself to be open-minded. To that person, queer may not include personal politic and I have no right to tell them otherwise. Queer is about more than what I think it is, whether I like it or not.

Many people seem feel that if words are more widely used they lose meaning but I think, if anything, it puts more meaning into them. It’s like people are worried that if we aren’t careful, our language will spin out of control and go beyond our reach, but that fear is a little too 2nd wave for my comfort. As long as we use it, own it, educate about it, this language is ours. People will change words to mean varying things because that is what language does; it grows and changes to better fit a growing and changing community.  And yes, that means that some more words may not always be used in the exact same way that applies to you, but community isn’t just about YOU, it’s all about US. Community has an I and a U in it. (It also has an O for OMG he just made a horrible 3rd grade”letter” joke.) No, I don’t want someone to ‘steal’ my communities’ words or misuse our language; some might say I’m pretty damn picky about it. I think that when people appropriate things they should be held accountable. This isn’t about allowing language to be misused, or to become some foreign, meaningless thing. It is about helping it grow into something that is truly useful for our community.  We must be flexible: we must try to understand intentions and recognize privileges to promote the most inclusive and accessible community we can. Sometimes I want, no I need boundaries and safe spaces; somewhere I can go where I know everyone else there will be very similar to me. I want to listen and understand; I want to speak and feel understood. Closed spaces are very valuable, but they are not the only things we need. A community can not be a closed space.

I’ve been repeatedly told that I’m not queer enough, not trans enough, not genderqueer enough, femme enough, not ‘insert identity here’ enough… Someone else can’t define me; that’s my job. Their job is to listen and try to understand and in turn, I must do the same for them. Instituting hierarchies and requirements disempowers others and that is the opposite of what queer is all about. Boundary policing is one of the more significant inter-community oppressions we must overcome in order to obtain our equal rights and recognition in this world. We can not continue to separate each other out of frustrations that one may have it easier than we do. We are all scrambling for limited resources, but legitimacy is not one of them. There is enough for everyone if we are willing to fight for it. So, if someone tells me they are queer, I’ll take it; not just because I can’t prove otherwise (nor would I want to) and not just because there are not enough of us, but also because by using the word “queer” they are saying “I see the need for radical change and I want to be a part of it.” If I meet someone who thinks they might be queer, I will gladly state that queer could be for them what it has been for me; empowerment. I’m not just inclusive, I’m a fucking recruiter. I want as many queers as possible, and that is not just my Midwestern isolation talking. With so many people, even within our own “LGBTQ” community, counting us out, I want to be the one counting people in. That is why I say “most people are queer.” I believe that if you feel different and want a place to call home, if you want change and you are willing to fight for it, then you count. In this movement, if you are here, you’re queer.

Transphobic Katy Perry and Queer Accountability

Posted on by JAC

In an interview with Rolling Stone late last month, Katy Perry is again quoted using transphobic language and promoting uneducated, transphobic mentalities. Rolling Stone removed all problematic language from all digital publications, but the quotes remain in paper print and thanks to our friends at Queerty, the information was reported on. I’m not ok with the use of “Bimbo”  in the Queerty article title, but I appreciate the remaining sentiments of the text. Queerty reports Perry saying (in reference to her fashion):

“You can’t be a full tranny every day of the week, that’s an exaggerated part of my personality.”

Ok, not to be overly aggressive here, but if I had a no tolerance policy about Katy Perry before (which I did) it has exploded into a million more. What the hell, people? Why do our queer and gay communities continue to support this person? Wake the fuck up. If we are supporting people like Katy Perry, we are not supporting trans* people. GLAAD and other “big” “gay” organizations surprisingly overlooked the issue despite being previously vigilant about Perry with her transphobic tweet last year. As many of us know, GLAAD has been a little busy lately, but that doesn’t excuse missing a red-letter incident like this. Our community has long discussed and gone over the use of the word tranny, and pop culture has recently taken interest and decided to use it too. Am I the only one confused about why people think we’re so interesting? Besides our obvious fabulousness, that is. Are non-queer folks out there using other community words as hip catch phrases? Something like: “I’m so lesbian right now.” or “That’s fag-arrific, man.” Hmmm, maybe I should start using these… This fascination with trans identities comes from the growing fascination with gender and the bending of it – and while I think its awesome that genderfucking is becoming a larger conversation with more visibility, I am terrified of how that visibility is being built, who is building it, and where they may be taking it in our culture. Trans isn’t a hip thing I do to be cool, it is my life. I can’t avoid it, and I likely would have if I could because it sure as hell isn’t easy – can’t say it isn’t glamorous, but that’s just because I’m a fucking glamorous person. (JK!) For the trans community, being trans isn’t about being fashionable or cool. It is about surviving. We squeeze the fun in afterwards, if we’re lucky enough to have room for it. Despite our struggle, which has been growing in its own visibility, people fail to find issue in the growing tokenizing and exotifying of it.

What does Katy Perry give to queers? I’m told it is some form of viability, but I’ve yet to actually see it. I’ve heard people say “I know Katy Perry is terrible, but I can’t help but like her music.” Well of course people like her music. Most pop music is manufactured for that specific purpose, to make you like it. This past winter, while at a tech rehearsal for a show I was in, I watched a drag troupe run through an awesome number to a really fun song. I didn’t know the song, but I was sure I had heard it on some oldies station at some point. Everyone in the place was singing along, just like any “classic song” that people emotionally bond to when they’re growing up. Ever self-conscious of my lack of pop culture knowledge, being born and continuing to live under a rock, I smiled at the singing, laughing faces across the bar. I wanted to be cool too… I pretended to know the song, which wasn’t hard since the lyrics were as predictable as a romantic comedy. When the number was over I discovered that the song was not a 1980s hit I just wasn’t cool enough to recognize. It was a new song and not only was it by Katy Perry, it was a Glee version of a Katy Perry song. Double Oppressor Whammy! I was embarrassed about looking like a hypocrite and I was disappointed that I could never enjoy this fun song ever again. Does it seem silly to give up something like a song? I’ll admit it, yeah, it does. But is enjoying a song  by an oppressor any different than willingly promoting any other system of oppression that I may otherwise benefit from, like white privilege? No, it’s not; its just a smaller version, a smaller cog in the bigger machine that works against you, me, and all of us in this community of underdogs. Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” may make a lot of gay people feel empowered (not me, but apparently 1000s of others.) but what about the Asian Pacific Islander folks being called “orient” in the lyrics? What about Gaga claiming the word Chola? Gay people get something out of it, but the song is fucking racist. Plus its a rip off of Madonna’s “Express Yourself”, but I digress.

I’ve gone on and on about the mistakes pop culture continues to make, as well as how our own communities don’t seem to give a damn. Is anyone else tired? I’m remembering  my bruised frustrations over the L Word series;  my anger and confusion about trans supporters enjoying a blatantly transphobic show because even though it was hurtful to trans folks, it was beneficial to them. Sometimes being accountable sucks because you have to make sacrifices, but in the end I think its worth it. I might feel a little silly protesting a song that I actually like, but deep down I feel good about it. I feel that by giving up something that I could otherwise like, I am showing myself that I am willing to go the distance for what I believe in. You can’t pick and choose what oppression to fight, it’s all or nothing, even when it’s “only a song” or “only a TV show.” Folks say “I know its bad, but it makes me feel good” but we aren’t talking about eating a whole bowl of frosting while watching bad reality TV shows about beauty pageants (yes, I do do that). We are talking about cultural messaging that hurts our friends, our family, our communities. I think if we have to give up a fun song here, and a night of TV there, it’s worth showing each other that we care enough to make a sacrifice for those we love and for good of the greater whole.

 

Gender Proof and Queers; We should know better

Posted on by JAC

Yesterday I took part in Equality Ohio’s LGBT Lobby Day, a gathering of folks from all over the state descending en masse on the capital to lobby for LGBT issues. With Ohio ranking second to last in the country in terms of trans and queer rights, over all Equality Ohio is very successful in creating a safe space where our disenfranchised community can work with a conservative local government. What it hasn’t been able to provide is a safe space for our community to work with itself.

I was anxious about Lobby Day this year. My last Lobby Day experience was less than positive, but Equality Ohio leaders were surprisingly attentive to my feedback which, in addition to the over-all importance of this event, lead me to attend again, this time as a team leader. By the time the opening event was underway I was starting to feel that activist passion burning. Suddenly, I felt unfamiliar arms surround me from behind my chair and under a suffocating kiss to the side of my head I heard, “Thank you for reminding me of my daughter.” I turned to see a woman walking away from me. I remembered her… At the last Lobby Day I attended, I met this woman -correction, I never actually met her. She ran up to me, hugged me, and tearfully said, “Thank you for reminding me of my daughter.” And despite the mis-gendering and her slightly ageist tone, I was warmed by her emotion. She said her daughter was just like me: a “strong young lesbian” who dyes her hair. I didn’t correct her. I remember that year I was feeling particularly combative about my identity, and I was in no mood to out myself as trans. Besides, how do you stop a crying mother mid-sentence and tell her she’s wrong and being offensive? I didn’t want to make her feel guilty or uncomfortable – a bad habit I have when people get my gender wrong. Naturally I was irritated, she shouldn’t have assumed my gender, but I knew the conversation would end soon enough and I could walk away without facing any awkward trans identity explanations. I know now that was not the right decision.

The woman walked onto the stage, introduced as Nickie Antonio the 1st openly gay representative to ever be elected in Ohio. She started a good speech focusing on our community’s diversity, naming differences in the room of identity, faith, appearance… I knew what was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it. She raised her hand and pointed right at me. “And I’d like to especially point out the sister in the back with the fuschia hair!” Like a movie scene, all at once a couple hundred people turned and looked right at me, and there I was, outed and mis-gendered… but at least she got the hair color right… right? Sometimes gender/passing stuff rolls off my back, other times it soaks into the skin until my entire disposition is saturated in frustration, anger, and guilt. This event was the latter. Yes, I am used to this sort of thing. Like most trans and gender non-conforming folks, I experience public mis-gendering a lot – usually it isn’t over a microphone in front of a couple hundred people -though it does happen on occasion. I am used to it, but it never gets any easier, at least, it hasn’t yet. My emotional response to being mis-gendered is identical to whenever I am treated with an utter lack of respect. It makes me feel small, unimportant, disempowered, angry, and less than human. I didn’t want to be at Lobby Day anymore. I didn’t want to be anywhere other than alone. All my excitement about taking part in community, all my drive to make a difference crumbled beneath me in a heap of disappointment with my community. Representative Antonio walked back to my tabled and gave me another hug. Cradled in repulsion, I interrupted her motherly repeats speaking in my most polite voice, “I’m not a woman, I’m trans. I would appreciate it if you didn’t mis-gender me.” She took my hand apologetically, still keeping me unwillingly wrapped in her hug, “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I should know better.” Unable to think of any other response I said, “Yeah…” cutting myself off from curtly finishing with “you should.” I reeled myself in with a semi-excusatory “It’s ok, I mean, it happens all the time…” She smiled, “Oh, I’m sure.” A comment I’m sure she meant to be agreeable, but it had the opposite effect. She mentioned how her partner was mis-gendered all the time “but in the other direction,” which only strengthened the argument that she really should have known better.

I spoke to a head Equality Ohio organizer, who I deeply respect, about the incident. This organizer, in hearing who the offender was, also said that “[Antonio] should know better.” which was a positive validation of my experience. However this validation was short lived. The organizer asked me whether I had made my identity known to Antonio, and when I said no they presented the argument that if someone doesn’t know any better, and I don’t correct them, then it isn’t their fault… which I guess would make this whole situation my fault.  So, I guess it doesn’t matter that Antonio should have known better because I wasn’t properly announcing myself. I don’t think this organizer was actively trying to say that it was my fault that I was grossly and publicly mis-gendered, but they did seem visibly confused as to why I would be upset that I was mis-gendered when I appeared to do nothing to stop it. I explained that I shouldn’t have to introduce myself identity label first just on the off chance someone might get confused, especially if I am in what is supposed to be a community safe space. Do gender conforming people have to consistently tell people their gender? No, they don’t, they just get the right language applied and go on their merry way. But because I am not visibly aligned to one gender or another, it is up to me to out myself compulsively, or else just not get offended when someone plays fast and loose with whatever label they choose for me.

Gender non-conforming people is have to re-assert our identity every moment of every day; when we meet a new friend, when we’re on a date, when we’re at work, when we’re at the grocery store, when we use a public bathroom… Eventually you have to make a choice; either you’re going to lighten up or you’re gonna burn out – for a lot of us the second is the result of the first. So no, I do not correct someone every time I’m called “she” or “lady” or “a young lesbian.” And because of that, is it my fault when someone mis-genders me? No it’s not, it’s the fault of a society that breeds people to see in a black and white gender-scape. I don’t automatically think that someone who mis-genders me is transphobic and out to get me, but depending on the person and the situation, I may think that the person is careless, irresponsible, or just plain lazy. Contrary to popular belief, it is not hard to be polite about gender. To quote the opening plenary from todays lobby day session  “Don’t tell me what you believe. Show me what you do and I’ll tell you what you believe.”(quote attributed to an unknown Mississippi civil rights leader). Ironically, this was said right after I was mis-gendered in front of everyone. If people really care about trans folks and really know better than to disrespect us, they why don’t they do it? It’s true that when you are running an event, it is impossible to control what every participant says or does, however you can do a lot to promote safe spaces and educate folks who just don’t know any better. Activist leaders should lead by example by educating themselves and through inclusive language and behavior. An event like Lobby Day should have a brief spoken introduction to involve participants in promoting safes spaces, to use inclusive language, and to be cautious of their own privileges. And if the event has speakers or guests, talk to them about safe spaces and request that they follow the guidelines necessary to continue that safety and inclusion. Everyone is afraid of talking about privilege, but all recognizing privilege is, is recognizing our own humanity: our ability to make a mistake and our own responsibility to correct it. We are supposed to be striving for “equal rights” but if we can’t even form equality within our own spaces, how are we supposed to accomplish it in the rest of the world? I don’t expect anyone to be perfect, but I do, as I suppose anyone does, hold my community up to a higher standard. I would like to think we know better.

Chaz Bono & Trans in the Media: Hero or Zero?

Posted on by JAC

Every community has its celebrities, and the hot ticket of the trans world right now seems to be Chaz Bono. I remember when Chaz came out, his requests for privacy, and the subsequent media hot mess that followed it. Since then Chaz has opened himself to the world with his book, his film, and community efforts like a trans focused discussion forum. All of this is awesome; visibility and community building is what we need, but what is the world doing with it?

The gender binary spins media inevitably puts on trans folk really irks me; especially when some of it comes from/is adopted by our own trans communities. When trans folk are discussed in media we see the same phrases over and over; “used to be,” “trapped,” “wrong,” “mistake,” “turn in to/become,” “new life.” And can I take a moment and ask: Does anyone say they had a sex change anymore? Even with elders in our community I’d say its at least 1-5 minority uses that expression. And yet no trans news story goes without talking about getting a “sex change” because it translates to a non-trans audience, and we all know that when we’re talking about trans issues it’s the non-trans people who matter most. I’m noticing a one trick trend in the media right now leaning towards a normalization of trans identity. Good thing right? But what does normal mean and what does it require? A big theme in the normalizing of trans is what gender identity disorder loves to call “cross gender interests” – or in familiar terms, “I only liked boy things” or “I always liked girl things.” Chaz Bono is a poster boy for this, mentioning it in every interview I’ve read or seen. Yes, interest in toys/stuff that is not culturally aligned to your assigned gender and sex is a reality for lots of trans folk, but for just as many trans folks it is not (I personally I liked both). AND it also many non-trans folks have the same “cross gender” interests, but they aren’t trans (herein lies the #1 issue with diagnosing gender identity disorder in children). Still, whether its in medical books or in magazines, this is promoted to be a requirement for trans identity. Is anyone else sick of the overused and hyper promoted stereotype that all trans people are heteronormatively aligned to whatever is “opposite” of their assigned gender and sex? All trans experiences vary. Many trans folk are more gender normative or binary in their experience and many are not. Both are valid, all are trans. The issue isn’t with gender normalcy existing, it is that if we focus only on gender normative folks we are not showing the whole picture, which means that someone is undoubtedly going to be overlooked. The impact of promoting the stereotype of gendered interests, therefore reinforcing gender binary standards for identity and behavior, lies in that once again we are creating hierarchal value systems based on normalcy while placing unrealistic expectations on humanity. That hurts everyone, binary or not, trans or not.

I have to give some props to Chaz Bono; in his interview on Oprah, while talking about how much easier his life is now that he has male privilege, did acknowledge that people should not have to be gender normative to be accepted and recognized in society. He also speaks about his experiences as “traditionally male” versus just one type of male for all of us. In a recent New York Times interview, Chaz speaks about how he doesn’t feel the need to get bottom surgery which, whether he meant it or not, challenges the stereotype that all trans people are desperate for gender confirming surgeries. He also addresses that trans identities are not mentally disordering, which is good, but then he continues to say how being trans is a “mix up” and a “birth defect…” which is bad. If he can’t recognize the 1) ableist connotations and 2) transphobic undertones to that language, he needs a wake up call. And speaking of wake up calls, he needs one about misogyny. He blatantly talks about how he believes in “biological differences” in men and women because T made him dislike small talk and has lost a lot of his “tolerance for women.” That’s not T, dude, that’s your misogyny! Lots of people get irritable for a couple months when they first start T, so if something kinda annoyed you before T, those first few months it might make you super annoyed or worse. Chaz probably just never liked certain things and now his “tolerance” is gone cause he’s got hormonal mood swings. He’s claiming its some “biological differences” in men and women, when really it’s his sexist stereotypes. Feministing gives Chaz the benefit of the doubt, assuming they were taken out of context via a known to be transphobic interviewer. But he wasn’t taken out of context when he repeats himself almost word for word on Oprah. Dudes got some demons over there, and none of them are feminists. Thanks for making all of us transguys on T look like macho jerks, Chaz, but at least it bought to a ticket as a socially acceptable “normal” guy.

Our culture’s allegiance to the gender binary and gender normative behavior expectations is not the avenue in which we, the trans community, are going to gain rights and recognition. How can we expect to make spaces where we are allowed to be different if we continue to allow and even encourage outside sources, like the media, to label our community via the very system of binary gender that oppresses us? If you’re gonna be on TV talking about trans issues you need to recognize that like it or not,  you are a spokesperson for our community. Most of us don’t get mass media attention, so if you are getting it you better get it fucking right. As far as trans representatives go, I think Chaz Bono is working hard to promote a positive image for trans identities, but if I were him, not only would I brush up on my social justice and feminism, I would be saying “Look, Oprah, Look New York Times, I have standards on how my community is discussed and you need to respect that. This is the language you should be using, and let me make sure to clarify these points I’m making about MY experience versus the entire community I’m representing.” And if they cut it out, edit it, or just don’t do what is asked, you can publicize how oppressive the language used to discuss our community is. You have that airtime so use it. No excuses, our people don’t have time for that.

 

Trans and The Rest of My Life

Posted on by JAC

I looked out over the Wisconsin lake. I’d been on the road touring almost two weeks, my batteries were running low, but in the best way.  She asked me about when I came out. I thought about it casually, “Well, its been four years…” I stopped, “wait… six… no, I mean five…” I thought about what day it was and wondered where I’d been. February had come and gone, along with a date I thought I’d never forget. February 17th, my “transiversary” as I like to call it. The day I officially mark my coming out, even though by that time  I’d been “working” on things for months, years. I use February 17th as the marker because of my state of mind then and what I was working out.

Back then I dedicatedly kept a journal. Every year I look back, and every year I see different things. Its like watching a movie over and over, you always catch some new thing you hadn’t noticed before. Every year I look back and whatever relates to my life at that time is what stands out. Last year was all about love and gratitude; reflecting on my history through realizations and gradual empowerment. This year, I am influenced especially by the fact that I forgot my Transiversary; I knew it was coming up but so much was going on with tour planning, documentary filming, performances, show production, drag practices, conferences… It just slipped passed me. I wondered at how it happened. Maybe I’ve finally reached a place in life where the absolute fact that I’m TRANS isn’t as prominent as it used to be, like I’m used to it now… Maybe I just haven’t kept an eye on myself as well as I should. This year has been amazing for me. I’ve been working non-stop; I’ve been on the road, enveloped in being an activist and a performer in ways I’ve never been able to do before. And I’ve been surrounded by the outside world more frequently and more intensely that I’ve ever experienced. To me, the “real world” means bouncing up, down, and around gender. What bathroom I’m in, what pronoun I’m called, flashing IDs, sirs to mams, mams to sirs – all rapid fire from airport, to gas station, to train car, to university, to theater, and back. I play ‘woman’ when I think its safest, I play ‘man’ when I think I can get away with it, and in between I’m just me; your average, flaming genderqueer femme transguy, genderfucked from head to toe.

This year when I look back on when I was coming out as trans, I see the identity-focused back and forth that forged the foundation for where I am now. When I started to come out I didn’t know anything about gender or queerness. I didn’t know anyone gay, I didn’t even know if I was gay. I didn’t know what I was…

January 27th, 2006: I wrote about coming out to my sister as “Bi-sexual.”  I have no idea why I spelled it like that (or capitalized it). Maybe it was from quasi-reading outdated text books and off the path internet forums. Shows how foreign it all was to me… guess being in that GSA in high school didn’t really prepare me for anything.

“I walk around and have to remember how other people see me is not how I see myself. That I cannot act how i feel because to them, I am a woman. If i say “I’m a gay man.” I don’t think they will be happy. I worry gay guys will look down on me because i don’t belong with them. I can’t claim to be a lesbian because I am not a lesbian. …I feel like a guy inside.”

January 30th, 2006

“I’m just sick of being different from people, but I don’t want to change…”

Febuary 11th, 2006

“Am I my clothes? …it’s almost like my skin is dress up… Fuck it all, i’m finally gonna be something that I feel like i should be.”

Taken February 14th, 2006: The first picture I took of myself in men’s clothes after starting to come out. I didn’t own a tie, so I used a belt from a sweater jacket.

[image description: young JAC in a white collared shirt and knit hat that covers his hair with a knit belt tied like a tie around his neck. His eyes are brown, his face is rounded and young-looking]

Febuary 16th, 2006

“everything i have is purple or pretty or some shit like that. i do like my stuffed animals… alot. Fuck, this whole color scheme is all society, who says a guy can’t have a purple robe. why do i feel i have to be everything? can’t i be some bothness, like girly_boi… guess it’s how i’ve always been. I’ve always been ‘both’ and i can’t be anything else so i need to accept the constant change.”

By February 17th, 2006, the day I now use to mark my Transiversary, I had started to use the word queer in my regular vocabulary. By March I had started to use the men’s bathroom, had passed as male three times, and had fully gained a new “queer” lexicon. I have to laugh and think its kinda cute how I sorted out the labels.

March 1st, 2006:

“i’ve got a new description for myself.  I’ve been reading up on it for a while.  Like, what am I?

Straight. – “Yeah, that’s probably me.  It must be, right?” Bisexual. – “You know, I think that’s really me.” Pansexual. – “Yeah, that sounds much more like me.” Genderqueer. – “Wow, that actually fits.” Polygendered. –  “That fits even better.” FTM. – “That sounds like me.” Transgendered. – “Sounds a fuck of a lot like me.   Me to a T.”  (HAHA trans pun, total accident.)

So I’m a female [sex], pansexual, genderqueer, polygendered, transman.  Fuck, how about I just say ‘Queer?'”

I remember that day. Its funny because first, all those labels meant the same thing to me then as they do now. I think at the time I used genderqueer more to describe my non-binary gender identity, rather than now where I use it primarily to describe my non-binary gender expression/existence. And though I identified as non-binary and polygender, its curious that I used the word “transman,” a label I never apply to myself now because for whatever reason, it doesn’t fit me; I say transguy exclusively.  Really, I don’t remember ever calling myself a “transman,” so maybe it was just for the sake of print and definition. I cycled through a lot of labels for myself back then, a lot of names, a lot of identities – all within a couple months. Back then I used all those words to try and gain some validation, some explanation for what I was and why. In that same post was a quote from a trans activist. I remember clinging to it for months:

“What helped me a lot was to stop asking ‘What am I?’ and to start asking instead ‘What changes do I need to make to be a happier person?'” -C.Jacob Hale

March 7th, 2006:

“I still feel like there really is something wrong with me… Normal is over rated… probably.”

February 19th, 2007: (one year later)

“This year I have been so at peace with my gender ‘situation’ and my life… It is the dream-life I always wanted, which a few deviations… Because of the relationships I’ve had [I wouldn’t change it] even if it meant avoiding the frustration and difficulty of this life.”

“This life.” I keep going back to February 17th as some anchor for “this life” but really, I think that (though I had reasons) I picked that date to give myself a reference point for where I came from. Now, I think I’ve been cutting myself up. Lots of big moments have happened in my life in reference to my gender identity; New Years Eve 2005 when I was dolled up femme but “acted and felt like a boy” all night; six months before that I was dressing “as a guy” at home, and dressing “like a girl” in public; six months before that in the confidence of a close friend I “was a guy for a day”;  six years before that I was signing notes with my “boy name” and secretly wished to be my best friend’s boyfriend; six years before that I begged my parents to cut my hair short like a boy. Which matters more? The day I said, “I am different that I thought.” or when I said “I know what this is.” or when I said “I accept who I am.” All of it had to happen, all of it mattered, and all of it got me to where I am now.  Witness, I am officially limiting the Transiversary status  as a marker date for ornamental purposes only. It will no longer represent a sectional “moment” of my life. Instead, like a birthday, it will be a representative of time passed, and times to come. I used to obsess over knowing myself, what I was, why I was that way, how I was going to handle it, and where I was going to end up. I’m starting to think that not knowing yourself is one of the few things that drives us towards tomorrow. Every time I think I’ve got myself figured out, something new arises. Its not a bad thing. The day I stop learning about who I am and working on who I want to be, I’ll be dead. I used to think time was a factory, producing life bit by bit. Now, I’ve come to know that time is more like the earth, holding us beneath our feet, surrounding us with all that comes from it, and passing over us like the sky hanging over head. We move under it, within it, and over top of it, no sense of control, and no way to be controlled. I think that in this year of being out in the world, I’ve been hiding more than ever before. I’ve been hiding more because unlike the past, I know who and what I am. I know what I want to be, how I want to be seen and treated, and I know I have the right to have it. Still I’ve been hiding; out of fear, out of convenience, out of remorse for being different. I’m not going to try to cut up my life any more and I’m not going to cut up myself either. Whatever that means for bathrooms, I don’t know. The women’s room is still gonna be cleaner, and it’s still gonna be safer. But maybe I need to start pushing the buttons I haven’t wanted to push since I was a high-strung, newly out transguy refusing to take anything less than a “he/him” pronoun and a men’s bathroom… who am I kidding, even at my most militant I was never very aggressive when it came to standing up for myself. I’ve always been better at defending others, so its what I’ve always done and I’ve counted on catching that overflow into my own life. It’s pretty clear what I need to do about that… I need to take ownership over myself and truly recognize that I’m not just a cog in the machine of this movement; I’m a human being within this community.

Five years ago I wrote that this life was a dream, a gift. I still think that, and for the same reasons. It’s the people in life that make it worth living, and while I don’t think I am “living for some else” I don’t think I am living my life just for me. The better I can live my life, the better I can work to make other people’s lives better too.

Last month, my mom dug out an old school paper I wrote about what I wanted to do when I grew up:

February 20th, 1996: (11 years old)

“I will be an artist and a musician… I will obtain my PhD… I will try to go into space where I will discover a solar system and each planet will be named after one of my friends. When I return to Earth I will be the first woman president, if there hasn’t already been one. I will encourage kids to build their self esteem… I will try try to make the world a better place.”

I’m not counting on ever getting a PhD, (no matter how happy it would make my mom). I don’t think I’ll have much luck on discovering a new solar system or obtaining the presidency – first woman or otherwise, but I’ve got the first two down, and I’ll be working hard on the last two for the rest of my life.

Trans Fears on Sex Crush the Trans Community

Posted on by JAC

Over the past month a conversation about transmale identity, validation, and fetishization has been circling the web. This month long thread originated from a blog “Possibly Problematic Attractions to Trans Men” which discusses an excerpt from an Original Plumbing Magazine (OP) blog post about non-trans folks who are assumed to be trans written by well known (not to mention awesome) trans publisher, writer, and artist Amos Mack. Mack presents an interesting perspective from non-trans folks who are read as trans because their appearance aligns to how people expect trans folk to look. This opens up many conversations, primarily what does it mean to look like a trans person and what does it mean to be attracted to one. Some statements by non-trans guys interviewed are problematic, but I think I have some bigger fish to fry, and these “fish” are hopping right out from our own trans community.

Personally, I took more exception to the expectations raised by transguys about transguys than anything said by the non-trans interviewees of Original Plumbing. This is primarily because the issues raised by the trans folks, with good intentions of asserting their identities and masculinities, resulted in a smorgasbord of phobic trans-disempowerment. All of this centers around a quote from OP interviewee named Rico on Original Plumbing blog.

“…I was dancing with all these beautiful ladies… …one of them started like gettin’ all over me and… We made out a little bit, then I went to get a drink at the bar. She came up behind me and grabbed my crotch. I looked at her and she turned PALE face white. She was like, “What are you doing here at DYKE NIGHT?” And I was like, “I didn’t know that was what night it was.” She got super offended even though I was the one who just got groped.”

A key issue from readers isn’t Rico’s experience but the demasculinization of the hypothetical transguy (thought to be Rico) via what the Dyke Night Woman said and did. The original blogger states that they “read this story as someone failing to see the maleness of a trans man or at least minimalizing it in the face of his female history and/or anatomy.” The author is appalled that anyone would be excited about a transguy being at a ‘Dyke Night’ because in order for that to happen the excited person would have to be equating a transguy with a queer woman… First, it is a serious issue in our community that folks who come out through the queer women’s community are then kicked out after coming out as trans – so I would think that a welcoming Dyke Night is the bees-fucking-knees, but apparently some people prefer gender lines being drawn across our communities, and as a result, our bodies. And speaking of bodies, what is “maleness” exactly? Does it depend on the body, the conceptual idea of sex, the identity, or all of the above? Is it dependent on the male person, or someone else? According to many concerned transmasculine folks, women labeling themselves as lesbian or queer are taking interest in transguys under the guise that transguys were not real men but women and therefore acceptable to sleep with under the lesbian code of conduct. And if you are a lesbian and you have the hots for me, a transguy, you are essentially annihilating my transmasculinity with a sapphic ray gun. ZAP! “NOO! MY MALE IDENTITY! DAMN YOU LESBIANS FOR THINKING I’M SEXY! WHY?!” –Really, friends? Are we still here? Sexual orientation labels are not necessarily aligned directly to behavior. Labels are dependent on personal connection to a community, and since no two people are the same neither are any two people holding that label. Additionally, my identity is not dependent on someone else’s, I do not seek a partner’s approval in how I describe myself, and I would never expect or want anyone to seek mine in order to date me.

A growing conversation in our community is whether including a person’s trans identity into one’s attraction automatically denotes fetishization. Yes, there are a lot of people who are attracted to TRANS in a fucked up way, but the majority of people who are attracted to trans folks are into something our community struggles with more than being fetishized – our own trans bodies. I am a trans person. I don’t know whether I look like a trans person, but based on what I get from others I cover the map. Without any prior knowledge of me, (while in everyday dress, so not in drag) people have read me as a non-trans woman, a transguy, a genderqueer, a transwoman, a non-trans man, and tons of random combinations of all of the above. I don’t consider any of those readings to be offensive, maybe annoying at times, but not offensive. Attraction is a tricky topic. At one point in my life I was confused about how anyone could ever be attracted to me because I was a guy who didn’t look like one and if someone was attracted to me I wanted to be sure they wanted a guy and saw me as a guy, but I didn’t look like a guy so what would they want about me? I was uncomfortable with anyone being attracted to my body because I didn’t know what it meant to them, or what that would make me. I eventually learned something that we all should be taught right from the start. There there is not one type of man or woman, is not one type of body, and there is no “real” sex. The author states that the Dyke Night Woman, because of her anger about a non-trans guy being at Dyke Night, “…was attracted to a man based on his trans status because she saw it as making him less of a man.” Or maybe she just likes men who don’t have that kind of flesh penis. Just because someone doesn’t want a partner with a specific type of body doesn’t mean they don’t like men or male people, or the bodies of male people. I’m not less of a guy because I do or don’t have a certain body and if that’s the first assumption I make about someone else that is actually saying more about me than it is about them. In other words, your trans baggage is showing. Making an overarching “us” statement like “Someone who is attracted to us should be attracted to us as men, otherwise they are not seeing us for who we truly are and are not affirming our identities” not only does not include my (and many other transguys’) voice, it also creates a rigid specification for what is required in order to partner with transguys and what transguys are to require of a partner – something the same blogger claims not to be promoting. I personally don’t mind if someone is attracted to me categorically as a transguy because that is what I am. If someone likes me as a guy, well awesome, but they have to also like the fact that under my clothes this guy’s body is different from what a lot people expect for a guy. A good way to trust that will happen is if that person likes trans bodies. (To clarify, someone being attracted to trans folks is not the same as sexualizing TRANS as a label aka fetishizing TRANS without valuing or being attracted to the rest of me (like my fabulous hair, ha! like that could ever happen).) If someone is attracted to me with the knowledge I am trans, I know they are seeing all of me, not just part. I don’t have to pretend and I don’t have to panic and it took me a long time to get here. That is why I take particular offense when someone, especially transfolks, start to say how liking trans for trans is some secondary status of sexuality that is not affirming of some precious hyper-binary gender.

Everyone is different, and just because something works for you does not mean it works for everyone. Attraction to trans bodies is entirely possible without fetishization and without identity sacrifice. Trans folks have our own bodies, our own styles of sex, our own conceptualizations in partnering, and our own sexual niches – in other words all that is needed for a sexual orientation interest. The assumption that someone would only be interested in a transguy if they thought of trans folks as “less than real” or as a fetish is transphobic – even if it is a fear coming from transfolk. We are crushing ourselves under our own fears of being misunderstood and/or rejected. I’ll be honest, I have my own baggage. And though I’ve come a long way, I don’t always trust people either. The cynicism on this blog extends to more than politics. But what I do know is that if we place expectations on others based on fear we will never be able to connect with anyone. There are mediums here, we don’t have to know or not know everything all at once and we don’t all have to be everything all at once. We all know what its like to struggle, and sometimes we get wrapped up in the fucked up expectations of others which only results in oppressing ourselves and each other.  No one person can be the voice of a community, and we can not place voices on others based only on our own hurt. That is why it is important to encourage more and more of us to speak, and not assume or attack what we are saying when we do.