tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55491395741813587322024-02-08T10:27:46.240-06:00GenderfudgeThoughts on gender from a queer, third gender, transfag librarian.S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-70578231232016993842012-05-28T10:13:00.003-05:002012-05-28T10:13:33.647-05:00Word Salad<style type="text/css">
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<em><i></i></em><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<em><i>WILLOW</i></em><i>: I-I don't
know, I was </i><em><i>t</i></em><em>rying to program in some new
puns and I kinda ended up with word salad</em>.</div>
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I recently watched a prominent member
of LGBTQ literary circles struggle with the preferred pronouns of an
author while presenting hir at a reading. (That's not a typo word
processing program, it's a pronoun.) The author in question is
non-binary identified and prefers the pronouns ze and hir. It was
embarrassing to witness.</div>
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I was embarrassed for the author
being mis-pronouned and therefore dismissed as a person with a right
to hir own identity. And I was embarrassed for the presenter who ended up
looking clueless and out of touch with modern queer culture. Side
note: I hate watching people be embarrassed. I have been known to
leave the room during scenes of embarrassment in movies rather then
deal with the anxiety they cause me.</div>
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Fault here lays solely on the
presenter. They had clear instructions and still botched it. Even
more fascinating, how had this person who has presumingly been
involved in LGBTQ communities, and in specific LGBTQ writers and
artists, for years never run into anyone else who was genderqueer?
The mind boggles.</div>
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And yet, before I climb on to that tall
equine and risk plummeting to the ground I have to confess that I've
screwed it up too. Not in a situation like that mind you, but in
regular conversation.
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Mis-pronouning is all too easy and
insidious. From the time we are little and learning to speak we are
given gendered words and gendered pronouns. Alternatives are not
taught when our brains are in that perfect time to learn such things.
It's like secondary languages, the later you try to learn one the
harder it often is. I wonder if folks who did get foreign language
training as children are better able to deal with unfamiliar pronouns
than others. This may be different if your first language isn't English but if it is, it's a problem. </div>
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Sometimes it's easier. Persons A and B
go from one gender to another. Simple. A was he and is now she. B was
she and is now he. We know he and she so the change is not so
difficult. Not really any different than remembering a new job title
or last name. There are often name and appearance changes that go
along with it that help to reinforce the switch. Sometimes you meet a
person who has already transitioned and never knew them as anything
else. Then it should be even easier.</div>
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And yet people can still screw it up.
I'm most fascinated and appalled when it's someone who didn't know
the transperson pre-tranistion, as though just the knowledge of what
they were assigned at birth colours how the person deals with them
more than how they dress or how hormones or surgery or what have you
has shaped them. It's almost surreal in its dismissiveness.</div>
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The more complicated and therefore more
land mine ridden issue are those people who, including myself, don't
fit neatly into male or female, she or he. All the intersex,
genderqueer, non-binary, bigender, intergender, androgyns, third
gender an<span style="font-style: normal;">d a</span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">d
infinitum folks out there</span></em><span style="font-style: normal;">.
A great deal of these people have chosen to use gender-neutral
pronouns to represent their existence outside the binary. Good for
them. </span>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">Gender-neutral
pronouns are a big source of debate for a lot of people. Part of the
problem is that there isn't a single set of agreed upon g-n pronouns
out there. Googleing the topic brings up lots of different theories
and permutations. In the end, all you can really do is ask a person.
Hard to do in some contexts, stupidly easy in others. Meanwhile, I'm
training myself to use the singular they with everyone until
otherwise informed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">And it
is a matter of training. If I screw up a pronoun, it's cause my brain
was programmed binary and breaking programing takes time. What's sad is
I'm not binary myself and still have trouble remembering all this.
Worse still the forensics and physically anthropology training I had
mean I automatically note those physical traits used to identify the
'sex' of human remains. I often wonder how much the bodies of trans
and intersex people screw with those measurements. But anthropology
also taught me about cultures where third, fourth and more genders
beyond male and female exists.</span></div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">So
what about me? What pronouns do I prefer? Even with the wife I don't
tend to push the identity thing but I probably should. Part of it's
that I hate to inconvenience people but more it's a low self esteem
thing. I'm not sure I deserve to be identified properly. And what
would proper identification be any way? Since I'm not really bothered
by he or she and both are equally right and wrong, I don't think
about it much. Maybe I should.</span></div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">I'm
leaning toward the singular they personally. It's simple. They is
already a word folks know. The Spivak system has some merit in my
opinion; e or ey, em and eir but I've also seen it said that since em is
already used as a colloquial shortening of them that somehow
creates confusion. Not sure how but whatever. </span>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">So for
now, with me that is, go with the singular they. I'll tell you'll if
that changes.</span></div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-74439171767609906602012-03-06T16:08:00.000-06:002012-03-06T16:08:33.709-06:00the weight and shape of gender identity<style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One of the reason I haven't been writing in this is that I'm too much of a perfectionist. My anxiety induced writer's block stems from the need to met a likely unreachable standard that I have set for myself. What I need to realize is this is a blog not an academic journal. It's where I air my thoughts not propose game changing theories in gender studies. If I manage to do that then cool but setting out to do it dooms me to not finish anything I start.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Case in point, I started a piece on body image and gender identity, the crossover place where the obsession with weight and size smashes into peoples ideas of male and female. It was wordy and full of literary references and likely <em><span style="font-style: normal;">unfinishable</span></em><span style="font-style: normal;">. But you know what? I lost it. Somewhere in my paper eating mess of a desk/messenger bag/black hole it sits but I don't know where. So screw it. I'm just gonna talk about the idea and see where it gets me. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Google "transmen eating disorders" and you get a lot of hits. From online support groups and discussion boards to Wikipedia articles about transmen activists who lecture on eating disorders and body image. And yet, this is a correlation that tends to illicit a 'huh, that's weird' response when you mention it to folks. Maybe this is in part because eating disorders are so coupled with femaleness in our psyches. It's hard enough to get people to acknowledge that cisgender men can develop such disorders. Sorry folks, those high school wrestlers wearing sauna suits and starving themselves to make weight? That sounds like symptoms to me. I remember seeing guys in my high school in shiny, silver outfits not having lunch or only having a Slimfast or other liquids looking like they about to pass the fuck out.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The motivation for transmen is similar, they are trying to "make weight". Look at any picture of an anorexic woman in advanced stages and you'll note that her breasts and hips have shrunk. So starvation becomes a form of body modification to mold themselves into a more masculine appearance. This is likely compounded by starting on testosterone which can cause weight gain. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I get it. I see skinny little genderqueer bois and envy them their androgynous appearance. It's a lot harder to pass or be acknowledged as male/masculine-identified when you have breasts larger then an A-cup and wide hips. There are outfits and looks I'll likely never be able to pull off because of how my body is shaped. And yet I am not compelled to stop eating or start barfing or compulsively exercise to deal with it.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Truth be told I should exercise more. I know I'm overweight and it takes a toll on both my bad back and the arthritis that has recently been diagnosed in my knees. But even once I do start getting more active I can't see myself exercising to dangerous levels. Part of that is sheer laziness.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">As for the others, I love food and I really hate barfing. Barfing intentionality, unless I've been poisoned, just sounds stupid. I've been known to forget to eat when left to my own devises but again, laziness is the culprit not a desire for starvation. And even at my lowest adult weight, I still had wide hips and big ass. They ain't going anywhere.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">This overlap of gender variance and body image isn't solely a FTM thing. I have at least one MTF friend for whom losing weight is part of her desire for femininity and a more female appearance but since her starting point is an overweight 'male' body, a smaller waistline is an understandable goal. I do think that some of her methods are iffy, meal replacement shakes should ideally only replace one meal a day if they are going to be used at all. There are fewer hits on a Google search for "transwomen eating disorders" but there are still a bunch.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Even for cisgender folks there seems to be a connection here. I heard a friend in a book discussion group actually say that she would dress more femmy if she could lose weight. I had to ask what that had to do with anything and cited my wife who is both zaftig and femme. A granola femme who lifted weights and played hockey when she was younger but still femme. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So what's the deal here? What does your weight/shape have to do with your gender identity and/or presentation? Discuss!</span></div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-79234724884665281612011-08-17T23:24:00.000-05:002011-08-17T23:24:09.125-05:00Lesbophobia... <style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have lesbophobia.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For the BTQ Book Group I recently read <i>Bi Any Other Name. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">It was really interesting to read something from twenty years </span> ago and think 'well fuck, bi folks are still treated crappy a lot of the time but at least the word gets included on stuff now'. The book barely mentioned transgender existence but hell, it was written twenty years ago. There were some gender variant people in there at least. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In the back of the book was a useful glossary and a definition there really struck me. Under the word 'heterophobia' was the secondary definition of 'fear of being perceived as heterosexual'. I saw that and it hit me like a thunderbolt. I have lesbophobia!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yes. I fear being perceived as a lesbian. This realization was further strengthened by a subsequent local newspaper article about last census counts of same-sex couple households in IL. The graphs in the article, at least the ones I saw in the free edition of the paper, were labeled 'Gay' households and 'Lesbian' households. As if all households with two women living as a couple were <u>lesbian households</u><span style="text-decoration: none;">. (Or all those with two men, gay ones...)</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">I'm sorry but mine sure as shit ain't.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Mine is two bi/pansexual/queer female bodied individuals, one of which is cisgender and one of which is third gender and identifies more as male. So again, not a 'lesbian' household. Similarly, ours is not a 'lesbian' marriage and we will not be 'lesbian' parents.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">But when people see us, that's likely what they assume. And when people hear me talk about my wife, that's probably what they think about me.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">I am not a lesbian. I've not called myself one for years. There are many reasons why. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">For one, I'm not a woman. Well, ok, I do have breasts and a vagina, much as they might annoy me at times. And I do intend to continue to have them but body parts are not the sole indicators of womanhood, as any good anthropologist will tell you. So maybe I'm a woman, but I'm not female. I'm a fun male/female/something else amalgam and I like it that way. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">For two, I like men. I'm attracted to men. I like and am attracted to women too. And those people in between? A lot of them are also really hot. So yeah, not a lesbian. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What's more it's not really fair to lesbians to lump me in with them. Let lesbians be lesbians, I'll be something else and we'll all be happy. It's important to say that I don't fear lesbians as a whole or even individual ones. I just don't want to be perceived as one anymore than most lesbians probably want to be perceived as straight or bi or male.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">I'm bothered that by falling in love with a sweet, granola-femme cisgender girl and working to make a life with her I have to also work much harder to assert both my sexual/</span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">affectional</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"> and gender identity. She has the same problem of course with the sexual/</span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">affectional orientation thing. Aside from both wearing 'This is what a bisexual looks like' buttons all the time there aren't a lot of easy ways to deal with this.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">What if I was a biological male? Or interested in transition? I'm pretty certain I'd still be queer, and still be in love with her, so little would change. We'd just be assumed to be a straight couple. I guess I have heterophobia too then.</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Argh!</span></div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-52126973294756254952011-07-31T12:05:00.000-05:002011-07-31T12:10:00.122-05:00SorryGot busy. Life and stuff. Civil Union prep and then the actual event earlier this month. Need to get of my brain off its ass and start writing again. Poke me if I don't do so soon.S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-14689417221504524682011-05-29T21:02:00.000-05:002011-05-29T22:42:49.460-05:00Hair- it's not just a 1970's musical<style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There are few things that cause me more trouble with my male identified presentation than my hair. It's long. Past my shoulders and naturally wavy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I grew up in the 80's and 90's in Nebraska. I listened to lots of rock, hard rock, grunge and such. I didn't learn to associate hair length with gender. My father's hair was not short because he was male, it was short because he was in the military. If he hadn't been it would have been longer as evidenced by how he's kept it since getting out. It really had more to do with age, class or music sub-culture. Rockers guys, metal-heads, even country fans; a lot of these guys had long hair. And there were also lots of women with short hair all around me so again, not much association with gender and hair length really. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Another interesting factor, it was primarily straight identified guys who had longer hair. Gay guys were more likely to have it short in fact. The gay guys with long hair were generally the more granola/hippie types which made sense. Lesbians and bi/queer women could have any length of hair they wanted unless they into country, then in it was short. Or a mullet. *shudder*</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Living in Kansas for four or so years didn't change this perception at all. A lot of my friends and acquaintances there were long haired guys of various sexual identities. Gay, straight, bisexual or non-defining sorts. The women were the same. So even less association with gender/sexuality and hair length. It was more a political indicator. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Then we moved to Chicago.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The number of men with long hair diminished greatly. Women here still seem for the most part free to wear their hair whatever length they desire but men seem expected to have it shorter, chin length maybe but even that is rare. You still see it but it's just so much less common. The exceptions seem to run along some very specific racial lines. Long dreadlocks for one, and people make all sorts of assumptions about that.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What does this mean for me? Well, in Nebraska or Kansas people would take gender cues from me based more on the clothes I was wearing than the length of my hair. Here that's not true. Here the length of my hair sometimes seems to be the biggest deciding factor in whether I get a ma'am or a sir. In the winter when I'm all bundled and the hair may be hidden under scarves and hats and coat and all, I get the sirs fairly often. But the minute it heats up and hair comes out, regardless of how masculine my attire, I become a ma'am. And it doesn't matter what hat I have on; baseball cap or outback fedora. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I complain about this, the response from a lot of people is the same, cut your hair. But it's not that simple. For one thing, I really don't look good with short hair. In high school my hair was short, the result of having to save it from a terrible feathered haircut by a particularly ditzy beautician. Unfortunately the natural body, wave and dryness of my hair means that when short, it is also really fluffy. There may be pictures somewhere but I hope not. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">With this history it's hard to imagine a short cut that will not serve to feminize my appearance even further. Sure I could go to a barber and get a man's cut. It's highly unlikely that there isn't a trans friendly barbershop in the whole of Chicago. I'm just not sure that it would make a difference.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There's another problem. I like my hair this way. Just like any rocker dude, the idea of cutting of my hair to suit the style of the mainstream bothers the hell out of me. Why should I cut my hair to suit some ridiculous, limiting concept of masculinity? What's more, my wife likes my hair and finds long hair attractive for men, women and those in between. She feels hair cutting is more a symbol of mourning or catharsis. When she shaved her head last year, people thought it was a butch thing. Even while she was wearing a dress. And make-up. And feminine jewelery. And girly head coverings. Even in heels!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What is wrong with people here that they have such a narrow definition of masculine and feminine that a simple haircut could make that much difference?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Maybe I should get a bunch of old Metallica t-shirts or something. Nothing after the black album of course. I never listened to enough Anthrax to back that up. Think anyone would buy a long haired, beardless dude in a Rush t-shirt. Oh wait, I already know they don't.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-36658520553940094252011-05-15T11:38:00.000-05:002011-05-15T11:45:21.617-05:00Book Review: She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders and I’m Looking Through You: Growing Up Haunted<style type="text/css">
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Since I seem to have stalled in the telling of my own story I figured maybe I'd try to break through the block by writing about someone else's. To that end I offer you a book review. Two for the price of one as it happens.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders</span></span></i></span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> and </span></span></span><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I’m Looking Through You: Growing Up Haunted</span></span></i></span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> both by Jennifer Finney Boylan.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The first selection from a Bisexual, Transgender and Queer book discussion group I'm in (hereafter referred to as BTQ group) I was thrilled to finally read </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>She's Not There </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">as I'd seen and heard about it many times. I have to admit that when a book or author gets hyped, I get wary. I am happy to report that this memoir, and the follow-up </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I'</i></span><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">m Looking Through You, </span></span></i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">are well worth the read.</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In </span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She's Not There </span></span></i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Boylan tells the story of her life and gender transition with humor and honesty. From her first feelings of being in the wrong body as a young boy through her teens, adulthood, marriage and parenthood to the final acceptance of herself as a woman. James journey to Jennifer is funny, sad, sweet, poignant and thought provoking. I laughed, teared up and felt good. The acceptance and support of family and friends was very uplifting to read about. While the reality of rejection by some, Boylan's sister being the biggest one, reminds readers that there is risk inherent in the struggle to be yourself. </span></span></span></span></b> </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The follow-up </span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I'm Looking Through You </span></span></i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">expands upon episodes and issues of her life that were brought up in her first book. She uses the memories and experiences of the haunted house she grew up in as a metaphor for her own feeling of being haunted skillfully. I have to agree that gender non-conformity does feel a bit like being haunted or possessed sometimes. It's also a fitting symbol for Boylan's feelings about the sister who rejected her because of her transition. The concept that they have become ghosts to one another really gives readers an impression how that kind of familial rejection might feel.</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The only trouble I had with </span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She's Not There </span></span></i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">was the feeling that this story may for some seem to reinforce gender as a binary male or female ideal. James is not right, is not healthy, until she becomes Jennifer. This is remedied in the follow-up when the author states that her only intent is to tell her story and it's not intended to explain or reflect all transsexual or transgender experience. What was and is right for Jennifer Finney Boylan may not be for someone else.</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">With </span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I'm Looking Through You </span></span></i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I was bothered by the authors dismissal of the hauntings she experienced in her home as a youth. Being pagan and a believer in ghosts, magic, fairies, dragons and all manner of beings makes it hard not to be a little offended by that. But being a rationally minded reader I understand that the author isn't intending to offend those who do believe in such things. She's just pointing out her own feelings on the matter.</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So, I'd recommend both books as good, honest memoirs of transgender experience. </span></span></span></span></b> </div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-26217457363764376292011-04-07T17:14:00.000-05:002011-04-07T17:14:29.985-05:00An Interlude...Today at work a well meaning co-worker of mine complimented my shirt with the ill chosen words 'that's a cute top'.<br />
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Now I like this shirt. I lovingly call it my 'Xander shirt' in reference to some of his more colorful clothing atrocities on Buffy. It's a terrible, wonderful mustard yellow, purple, brown, orange, and mauve thing with leaves and swirls and dots that you really have to see to believe. Like I said, I like the shirt.<br />
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Hearing it described as a 'cute top' stunned me a little. In my moment of shock I think I said something surly like 'you mean my shirt?' and getting a dismissive 'shirt, top what's the difference?' in return. I wanted to say that the difference was that women wear tops while... but I think the response would have been confusion.<br />
<br />
And so it happens again. My masculinity is shaken by someone's complete obliviousness. The co-worker in question is so guileless that she can blithely ignore my mode of dress, carriage and speech, and see only the woman that my breasts and first name imply to her. And in this state of innocent ignorance, send my fragile sense of self plummeting to spend the remainder of the long day stewing and aching.<br />
<br />
I still like the shirt and I won't stop wearing it. But there's a lingering weirdness that I now have to shake from it so that it will go back to being my 'Xander shirt' instead of a 'cute top'.<br />
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*sigh* S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-64559979953198353222011-04-05T17:56:00.000-05:002011-05-15T11:51:20.850-05:00My Story... Part 1<style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Note to self. If you want people to read this, you need to post more often. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">But of course now that I've started this, the running monologue in my head has quieted. When it was just my brain throwing out randomness with no where to go, it couldn't stop. Now that it knows I have a place for these ideas, worries and ruminations, it's clammed up. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Stupid brain.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So why do I think about gender so much? Why do I read about it so much? Why do I get annoyed when someone calls me 'ma'am' or 'miss' but tickled if someone call me 'sir'?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The last one is easy enough. I'm a man. Sorta.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I just read </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jennifer Finney Boylan's</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <i>I'm Looking Through You, </i>a follow-up memoir to her bestselling <i>She's Not There </i>(reviews on both later). She mentions that she doesn't find gender theory helpful. What she finds helpful is story. While I do find theory helpful, I'm a weird academic in that way, I agree that story is also extremely important. So here's mine.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A lot of trans people will talk about their childhood in terms of feeling wrong somehow. In the wrong body or at least the wrong clothes. Tales of parents trying to force their kids to conform to a standard, binary gender representation. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I didn't get that. I was a mostly happy little tomboy climbing trees and reading too much. (I say mostly simply because I've always had anxiety problems. Even as a kid I was somehow convinced the things beyond my control were somehow my fault. Maybe that's why I love fantasy heroes so much, Aragorn might have doubts but he gets over them.) I was in love Robin Hood and King Arthur and fairy tales. I used the advantage of being the eldest to chose the best male roles in most games I played with siblings and being the most imaginative to do it with school friends. After watching Camelot, I was Lancelot to my childhood best friend(and crush)'s performance of Guenevere. (Sorry if you're reading this, unnamed childhood best friend. Yeah, I had a crush on you for years. Don't worry, I'm over it.) We gave Arthur a new wife and lived in a happily ever after where no one died or became a nun.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Being a total klutz meant I wasn't good at sports or dance or rollerskating. Though I've always had great balance and good climbing skills, well except for that evil rope in gym. Non-sporty tomboys tend to slip under the radar easier. More importantly, my parents didn't really care about gendered trappings. Sure, my extended family got me 'girl' things as gifts sometimes and my grandma liked putting me in dresses for holidays and things but for the most part I didn't feel pressured to conform too much. And so long as I thought of the dresses as just a form of playing dress-up, it wasn't so bad. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">As best I can remember it, before puberty I was solidly attracted to girls. I would chase them about the schoolyard and steal kisses. I would play Robin to their Marion and Lancelot to their Guenevere. Puberty hit and along with the family hips that ruined my, until then, boyish figure, came a interest in boys as something more than playmates. The hard part was puzzling out if I wanted to to be their Maid Marion or their somewhat more intimate Little John or Will Scarlet. And here is where we get to the confusion.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">With the progression of puberty, and with it middle and high school, came the need to conform in ways I hadn't before. Honestly though it was less about gender and more about other differences. I was more interested in politics and history and literature then my classmates seemed to be. I liked different music and wanted to save the earth and fight for animal rights and peace. I felt very out of place in my small Nebraska high school. I didn't date for a few reasons. My attraction to women became a barely acknowledged fantasy thing reserved for actresses and fictional characters.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I met my first boyfriend during the summer between junior and senior year. The short, short version is he went to a different high school, was a geek and an otaku, and was completely oblivious to any sexual or gender ambiguity on my part. Even when I told him about these things he'd conveniently forget them. For him I was stuck in some mold of sheltered Nebraska girl who didn't know anything about the world. That got worse after he joined the Air Force. We were together for three years until he dumped me by not telling me he'd been stationed to Japan. Must have been a dream come true for a man who had one of his senior pictures taken with some of his anime movie poster collection. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">By this time I was in undergrad trying to figure out who the hell I was. I spent those five and a half years: sleeping with male friends, trying to date women, coming out of the lesbian closet while going into the bisexual closet (while still falling into bed with those same male friends), trying on butch and fem personae to see which fit, falling in love with drag and queer theory and finding my pagan faith. </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This pattern continued and stretched in to the years following getting my BA. I dated men and women, rarely telling either that I was imaging myself as a man when I was in bed with them. I always seemed to be waging a sort of internal war over my sexuality and gender. Am I a butch lesbian? Am I a gay man in a seemingly, biologically female body? Am I bisexual? Pansexual? Am I transsexual? Transgendered? Am I just plain queer, in all meanings of the word?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I joined transmen groups to try to figure it out and they were welcoming but a lot of them couldn't understand my lack of interest in reassignment surgeries. I played with drag but my body is not one that can pass easily, though I unintentionally do it all the time without really trying. I started wearing dress shirts and ties to interviews. (I love ties.) I read about Native American Two-Spirit peoples and other kinds of gender variants folks from cultures all over the world. I fell in l</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ove with authors like Leslie Feinberg and</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Kate Bornstein. I started reading and then writing slash fan-fiction since a lot of my fantasy life was about pretending to be a gay man. And throughout all this I worried that no one would fall in love with my confused ass.</span></span></span></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Then came my lovely wife.</span></span></span></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-80887703160964982572011-03-26T17:38:00.000-05:002011-03-26T17:38:46.673-05:00The Whys and Wherefores<style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The question must be asked, why a blog about gender? Well I think about gender a lot. All the time in fact. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What is gender?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What gender am I?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Does it even matter?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How does my sexual orientation play into my gender?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Are they fixed or are they fluid? </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How does my race, class, faith, etc. play into my gender? </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Am I happy as I am or do I want to change somehow?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How much?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How little?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And again, does it matter?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After a while all these thoughts and internal monologues about gender start to sound like a journal entry, or a book or... a blog.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So I figured I'd share my worries and meanderings with others and see what I learn. Maybe nothing or maybe something. Either way, it'll be interesting.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Oh, and the book thing. I read a lot about the subject, genderqueer and trans stuff mostly, and being that I'm a librarian who volunteers at a GLBTQ Library and Archive maybe I can offer my two cents about some of the many books I read. That should be interesting too.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-42772321125975786992011-03-25T19:01:00.000-05:002011-03-25T19:01:33.965-05:00Real Post?Ok, ok. I'm getting to a first real post. It's taking me a bit to get my first post worked out. I know the sort of stuff I want to talk about but every time I start I second guess it.<br />
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Since I'm a librarian though I do plan to review some trans/genderqueer books in the course of things.<br />
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All right, more later.S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5549139574181358732.post-22363623952381655102011-03-22T22:25:00.000-05:002011-03-22T22:25:13.526-05:00Blog the first...First post. I'll say more later. Too tired now.S. Potterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08858788784077075497noreply@blogger.com0