GenderBendy

The Trans Explosion

The article I wrote recently for Out in Maine, the LGBT quarterly supplement to the Portland Phoenix, has been posted on line. In the article I assert that trans really seems to be *happening* right now in crucial ways, and, using local examples in Maine, explore how personal trans narratives are driving this change and vice versa. If I have piqued your interest, you can check it out here...

Out of a flame war, pandemic love

Last night my 19-year old daughter Madeleine posted on facebook some whimsical wordplay based on terms she is trying out to describe her sexuality. She has already claimed “pansexual,” (which I also am coming to prefer for myself), meaning attracted to people based on who they are as people, regardless of biological sex or gender; and she’s trying out the word “demisexual”, meaning not tending to feel sexual attraction except to a person with whom one has first become emotionally intimate (which I also like for myself...I hope you don’t mind, dearest, that I’m co-opting your words). “Demisexual” is a new-minted word, courtesy of the asexuality movement, for an old-fashioned idea: sex as an adjunct to, an extension and expression of, love. So Mad’s line was that she’s a “pandemic romantic,” which, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s funny.

A few of her friends posted light-hearted comments, and then one particular friend, whom I will call X, posted this: “‘Pansexual’ is an orientation. ‘Demisexual’ is not. Neither is ‘romantic’. Just sayin'.”

An escalation ensued. Points got misunderstood, feelings got hurt, and what could have been a substantive conversation about the complexities of identity quickly turned personal. An hour and 40-some posts later, several people had posted things they are probably regretting today (if they’re done fuming), my daughter had defriended X, and various friends both in cyber and real space were giving her hugs in commiseration for having been the unwitting trigger of, and scorched figure at the center of, a doozy of a flame war.

This incident has helped me crystallize some thoughts about sex, gender, and queer identity. First of all, I respectfully disagree with X. Demisexuality and being a romantic *are* both orientations. In fact, in a way, they are more radical orientations than the L, G, and B of LGBT, because, just as pansexuality challenges the unquestioned assumption behind these letters that gender matters, they challenge the unquestioned assumption that sex matters. They are a “none of the above” option. They say: “If I, whoever I turn out to be, should happen to want to go to bed with my sweetie, whoever my sweetie turns out to be, it will be because I love my sweetie and my sweetie loves me. Love is different from sex and knows no gender, and love is what matters most to me.”

I am *not* saying that LGB folk don’t understand or care about love. Completely not. But queer culture does seem to me to be as obsessed with sex as our culture as a whole is. I don’t really have a problem with that, though as a person who cares less about sex than love it makes me feel marginalized at both cultural levels. And I could hardly blame people fighting for equality for their sexual identities if they felt threatened by the idea that sex doesn’t matter. I do have a problem, though, when it becomes politically incorrect to speak of non-sexual or only-incidentally-sexual love.

And, I *am* saying that the emphasis on traditional concepts of gender inherent in the definitions of L, G, and B sometimes feels inimical to the interests of us T folk. My dear LGB friends: I thank you most fervently for the enormous amount of help and support you have given me in my gender work, both individually and, by fighting a version of the same fight first, on a global scale. I have learned and benefited from your struggle. I stand shoulder to shoulder with you against the forces of prejudice and hate which so seldom distinguish between us. And, I enjoy your company, feel at ease with you, and am so grateful to have been welcomed in under the big LGBT umbrella. But, alas, all that said, I do also sometimes see you as part of the gender hegemony against which, all my life, I have struggled. I will never self-identify as gay, lesbian, bi, hetero or homo, because all of this terminology fails to challenge and continues to perpetrate the bad old binary concept of gender. Until I come up with something I like better, I am a pandemisexual romantic trans woman.

May I invite you to join me and Mad in seeking new ways of talking about ourselves and each other which celebrate the diversity, complexity, and subtlety of gender as thoroughly as we have celebrated the diversity, complexity, and subtlety of sexuality? And could we all, please, get at least part of the way back to the charming old-fashioned notion of speaking reverently of love?

Defriending Jenny

Dear Jenny Finney Boylan,

I am writing this letter to tell you why I am defriending you on facebook. Please don’t get me wrong: I admire you, and I think you are doing great work for the trans cause, and your book “She’s Not There” had a profound effect on me - in the early days after my late-blooming gender revelation it showed me that what I wanted was actually possible, that I too could be a woman in the world. So, thank you. And, I think maybe we could be friends, not just on fb, but in real life. After all, how many piano-playing trans women writers with teenage children are there living in Maine? I suspect we are the only two.

The reason I am defriending you goes beyond jealousy, though I admit I am jealous of your success. Not proud of that, but there it is. But that’s just a twinge. The beyond part is that I am starting to feel helpless and hopeless...like a coulda-been running out of chances. And it’s not for lack of trying, nor for lack of talent. I’m a good writer; but in the big trying-to-get-noticed lottery of life so far I just keep getting tickets with only one matching number. Meanwhile, I can’t even tell you how much farther I have slipped into debt this month because the computer with my financial records on it died and I can’t afford to get it fixed.

So seeing as how my life is never free from worry about negative income flow, and there’s nothing inessential left to cut from the budget, and I can't even get a nibble on a second job (but certainly *never* because I’m trans, that would be unthinkable), and I’m cancelling electrolysis appointments because the check would bounce, and my summer treat for my children this year is dinner at Flatbreads, and I’m going to have to liquidate a significant chunk of my paltry retirement savings to pay for surgery...well, it doesn’t help me stay strong to read about your fawning editors and your appearance on Oprah and your NY Times editorials. I am happy for you, but for the sake of my own faltering sense of hope I have to sign off for a while.

But please, carry on carrying our banner. Use your access to speak for all of us who struggle with everything all Americans struggle with, plus the burden of living trans.

OK, gotta go...I need to "face the money," as I say at bill-paying time each month, and try to reconstruct my financial records too.

With gratitude, regards, and respect,

Lisa

Denied existence

Recently I had the novel and unpleasant experience of having someone who was angry with me purposefully revert in an e-mail to my old name and male pronouns.

Julia Serano, in her book "Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity," calls this trans-exclusion, which she defines as, among other things, dismissing a person’s identified gender.  She writes, “it is difficult to view trans-exclusion...as anything other than an arrogant attempt to belittle and humiliate trans people.”

Julia is right: X’s e-mail did make me feel belittled and humiliated. The message I got was: you say you are a woman, but you are not. Your identified gender is not real. You don’t exist.

In Julia’s terminology, trans-exclusion is an expression of cissexual privilege, which she defines as “the double standard that promotes the idea that transsexual genders are distinct from, and less legitimate, than cissexual genders.” (Cissexual refers to people whose identified gender matches their biological sex at birth. If you are not trans, you are cis.) X’s e-mail would appear to be an expression of cissexual privilege, based as it is on an unspoken assumption that X is in a position to deny my identified gender.

We also see cissexual privilege expressed by supporters of LD 1046, the bill which would roll back civil rights protections for trans people in Maine, when they evoke the virulent false image of the trans woman as sexual predator. That image’s hold on the public imagination is clearly based on the persistent underlying notion that, whatever they say, trans women are still really men.

Distressingly, I also sometimes sense cissexual privilege behind the words and actions of allies. For example, I have had a sympathetic person say to me, referring to possible future sexual reassignment surgery, “So, when you become a woman...”

How can I say this plainer? I am a woman. It is not an act. It is not provisional. My sense of self is all one gender, and that gender is female!

It’s the penis, isn’t it? You people saying and doing these things, you just don’t seem to be able to get past the fact that I still have a penis. For heaven’s sake! If my very identity was not at risk, I would roll my eyes at you and burst out laughing. Gah! It makes me so mad! WHY MUST YOU INSIST THAT GENITALS DEFINE GENDER?

Shh, shh...breathe, girl, breathe.

Coming soon:  The Lurking Penis

The Hearing and the Beating

On April 12th I attended a Judiciary Committee hearing in Augusta on a bill (LD 1046) which would make an exception for trans people in Maine’s Human Rights Act, so that forcing a trans person to use the bathroom or locker room matching her/his physical sex at birth would not count as discrimination. I went to add my voice to the chorus of “against” voices; and I came away with puzzles to figure out about prejudice. Please forgive the long post, but I’ve travelled down a long chain of thought and feeling since the hearing, and I want to try to get it all down.

The hearing went well for us opponents, I think. Equality Maine did a great job of organizing, so we had all been briefed on how to be courteous to the Committee, how to field questions from reporters, and when it would be our turn to have our three-minute say; and the supporters soon ran out of speakers, so then it was just a long string of trans-positive testimony. Many non-trans allies spoke, which was lovely; the most moving for me was the father of a young trans girl who wept talking about the ordeals his family has endured trying to find safe schooling for his daughter. And the trans among us accomplished as much, I think, by showing ourselves to the Committee as by speaking. Look at me, each of us said, just by standing there: I am trans, and I am intelligent and well-spoken, and I dress in ordinary clothes and act in ordinary ways, and I clearly have feelings just like everyone, and, in short, I am an ordinary human being, just like you.

This was a crucial point to make...because behind the testimony of the supporters of the bill lurked the pernicious and utterly false phantom image of the trans person, especially the trans woman, as sexual predator and pedophile.

LD 1046 would legalize discrimination against trans people

I'm off to Augusta...will report later! Text of the testimony I'm offering below...wish me luck, and please, if you want to help, contact your state rep and senator and urge them to oppose this awful bill. Thanks!

Written testimony of Elizabeth Bunker in the matter of LD 1046; Judiciary Committee hearing, Augusta, ME, Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

Good Afternoon, Senator Hastings, Representative Nass and members of the committee. I am Elizabeth Bunker from Wells, and I urge you to vote “ought-not-to-pass” on LD 1046.

Thank you for accepting my written testimony; I would have liked to testify in person, but my son has to be at band practice at Wells High School by six o’clock with a dinner under his belt, so I could not commit to staying until my turn to speak.

I am 49 years old, and I have lived in Wells for ten years. For the past eight years I have been employed full time at USM as the Program Director of the Community Radio station WMPG. As a professional sideline I construct crossword puzzles. I am an involved parent, sharing equal custody of my two teenagers with their mother, alternating weeks. In my spare time I blog, practice the piano, and play chess. And, I am a trans woman. That is, I was born with a male body, but my sense of self is and always has been female.

About two years ago I decided to do something about this mismatch, and began the process of gender transition. A few months ago, as part of that ongoing process, I started living full time as a woman. And (to share an instructive anecdote), as part of this moment of social transition, I switched locker rooms at the USM gym.

I did so with the full knowledge and support of gym management, and it turned out to be absolutely no big deal. A couple of private changing stalls had thoughtfully been installed in each room (trans folk are not the only ones bashful about their bodies), and that was the only accommodation I needed. In the months leading up to the switch, as I grew increasingly uncomfortable in the men’s room, I simply changed and showered in the stalls; and now, until my physical transformation is complete, I’m doing the same in the women’s. Nobody sees me undressed, and there have been no complaints. Nobody even seems to notice me.

I wanted to share this anecdote with the committee because I think it offers a real-life example both of how easy it was for my employer to accommodate my needs, and of how unfounded the fears are which seem to be behind this bill. The law which this bill seeks to subvert has been on the books for six years, and nothing bad has happened. Trans is a perfectly normal thing to be, and trans people are not trying to get away with anything...they just want the same freedom as everyone else to change their clothes and relieve themselves where they feel natural, comfortable, and safe.

In sum, LD 1046 is totally unnecessary; and, since it would establish an alarming precedent of exceptions to the legal protections provided by anti-discrimination law, it is also downright dangerous. I urge the committee to squash this ill-conceived, backward-looking, and prejudicial legislation now. It is fundamentally unfair to trans people, and it would make truly terrible law. Thank you for the opportunity to add my voice to the debate.

Trans chess, and the center of the Queer universe

Yesterday I had two different instructive adventures in trans.

The first was a visit to the Mechanics Institute Library and Chess Room in downtown San Fran. I have visited other chess clubs in other cities, including bullshitting my way in for a brief glance at the famed Marshall Chess Club in NYC, and based on that experience I was expecting something run down and seedy. Ha! The Institute is housed in a downtown highrise: imposing brass and glass doors, a uniformed attendant with a magnificent grey walrus moustache, spiralling marble stairs with ornate iron bannisters, 20-foot ceilings. Most of this was the library (members only), not the chess room, but still. The chess room was a pleasant space on the fourth floor with an attendant in an office. There were four long rows of old wooden tables with the chess boards built into them, and on the walls pictures of various chess legends who have passed through the club over the years. At four in the afternoon there were only about half a dozen players there, all older gentlemen. I played six or seven quick games and had a delightful time.

As noted in my previous post I wondered if my transness would cause a stir in the chess room, and perhaps discombobulate an opponent. What I forgot was that, while there are not huge numbers of trans chess players, I’ve hardly ever met a chess player who wasn’t eccentric some way or another. No one batted an eye, and my long list of places where my being trans doesn’t matter at all is now one place longer.

The other instructive trans adventure was a program called “Girl Talk” at the LGBT Community Center on Market Street. I had a couple of mistaken assumptions going in:  One was that I was going to be attending a panel discussion between trans and cis-gendered women; it was actually an evening of spoken word performance. The other was that the topic would be what I deal with every day, which is the complex of connections and failures to connect between trans and straight cis women in the straight world. Silly me. The topic was the complex of connections and failures to connect between trans and Queer cis women in the Queer world.

All of the performers were talented writers and readers.  There were some great lines and powerful insights, some very funny moments, some seriously artistic moments, and a great deal of community spirit. There was a lovely underpinning of vibrant activism. And, the audience was large, responsive, and enthusiastic. One comment: I could do with just a little less of the hard-driving short-phrased hip-hop-rhythmic poetry slam style of delivery...Honey, just talk to me...

I did garner one important political insight: clearly, even here, trans still struggles to establish and define itself within the larger context of LGBT culture. A great deal of work for change still lies ahead.

Now, in that room I got a strong sense of a nurturing, insular, and complete counter culture which I have the credentials to join if I want. Some aspects of this culture:  a complex set of social rules; an emphasis on self...self-expression, self-actualization, self-consciousiness, self-involvement; and a stance of difference and defiance toward the straight world. I felt that I was standing at the center of the Queer universe...but I didn’t feel sure I belonged there.

Why not? First of all, most of the people in the room were ten to twenty younger than I. Second of all, a dominant theme of the evening was sex, which I don’t care about much these days. Thirdly, visiting all these big city folk from my little Maine town as I was, I was feeling rather provincial. And fourthly and most importantly, all my life I have lived and worked in the straight world. That hasn’t changed post gender-revelation; and by long habit and circumstance, if nothing else, that’s still where I feel at home. I am conducting my search for love in the world generally, not just within the Queer world. There’s at least a chance that I will end up partnered with a straight man. And, if I get facial feminization surgery, I will be able if I choose to pass almost all the time as a straight woman.

It seems I get to choose which world to live in. Is that an exclusive either/or choice? Can I change it depending on circumstance? Am I actually demonstrating that I am Queer by agonizing about whether I am or not? Who the hell am I really? I don’t have the answers to any of these questions.

Outside agitator

Recently my friend Kennedy approached the SMCC Student Senate with a request that the college discrimination policy be amended to include gender identity and expression. The Senate enthusiastically endorsed this idea and sent it on up the chain of governance. It turns out that discrimination policy is set at the system level (there are seven community colleges in Maine), so the request made its way to the desk of the Maine Community College System’s General Counsel, Derek Langhauser; and at the SMCC Student Senate meeting this past Wednesday Diane Vickrey, SMCC Dean of Students and Planning and the college’s Affirmative Action Officer, brought Mr. Langhauser’s decision back to the Senate.

I was at this meeting, because Kennedy was down in Florida supporting Branden through top surgery (B is doing well post-op...yay!), and had sent out an e-mail asking if anyone else could  go and represent the transgender point of view. Jamie went with me, and some other trans-folk whom I didn’t know were there too, at least one of whom was an SMCC student. Senate President Danielle Swartz welcomed us politely.

The policy will not be changed, Dean Vickrey said, because legal protection against discrimination based on gender identity or expression is covered under protections on the basis of sex and sexual orientation, or implied by the existing policy.  She said that the system doesn't want the list to include sub-categories of categories already on the list; that it is supposed to be "a succinct summary of the categories of protection." She said if there was an incident of discrimination on the basis of gender, the college would still protect the person being discriminated against, because all groups are explicitly or implicitly protected by law. She also said it is not possible to change the policy at this time because it is the General Counsel who would have to move the change forward.

As she spoke I began to feel riled. Her tone struck me as condescending, and I got the feeling from the hunkered-down silence around the table that many in the room felt intimidated by her. So I started asking questions: Who did Mr. Langhauser work for? Was he hired or appointed? (The system Board of Trustees, hired.) What was the correct spelling of his name? Perhaps my voice shook a bit; I was feeling a personal outrage still fairly new to my experience, having lived most of my life as a non-religious able-bodied straight white male...but I stayed courteous, and so did she. Fair to say, though, her face became more unfriendly each time I asked another question.

When she was done I took the floor long enough to make sure that a clear statement was made about gender being a distinct category of its own, separate from sex and sexual orientation, and deserving of separate protection (eliciting nods around the table); President Swartz also read a portion of a statement Kennedy had written which restated and supported these points.

A student asked what the Senate could do instead of pursuing a change in the discrimination policy, and Dean Vickrey said they could craft a campus-based diversity statement affirming the rights of all groups. She started listing all the positive effects this statement could have, and her tone struck me as even more condescending than before. I felt that she was telling the Senate to shut up and behave; that she was offering them, instead of a chance to make real change, a kind of pretend democracy to play at. I interrupted her.  “But not legal protection,” I said, and hunkered heads nodded around the room. Someone murmured, “Yeah, that’s what I...” She glowered at me. No, not legal protection, she admitted.

As the meeting concluded Dean Vickrey offered to invite Mr. Langhauser to an upcoming meeting so he could address the Senate's concerns directly. She also asked about the Senate's policy on open meetings - I gather she hadn't expected guests ;-). She was told that meetings are open unless the senate goes into executive session.

So, assuming Mr. Langhauser agrees to come, there will be an opportunity to speak directly to the man, and maybe educate him a little (respectfully) about gender being a separate issue which really matters to people. Kennedy has started something good. The fact that the change needs to be made at the system level if it is going to be made at all renders this fight that much more important.

I have to say, the whole experience gave me a rush...challenging the complacent Dean; claiming the right to speak my mind and seeing that I was speaking for others in the room; standing up for myself and my trans-siblings. If I can I’ll be at that next meeting...I want to do it again. :-)

Walking to the Bridge

I just got back from the Portland Maine observance of the Transgender Day of Remembrance. It was cold and windy in the square, but dozens and dozens of people showed up, and after the speeches we made a respectable crowd as we marched up Congress Street with our candles to the art gallery where the second half of the evening's ceremony took place. The most moving part for me was the reading of the names, and placing a flower in a vase for each name read.

I was slated to be one of the speakers. With these terrible tragic suicides in the news recently, I wanted to try to say something to the question, how could a person be driven to take her own life or his own life by the prejudice and hate of others? I ended up writing and reciting a poem, and a few people kindly said they would like to see it in print, so here it is:

Walking to the Bridge

How can I say I know I am OK
When I don't even know who I am?
Everything is wrong.
My body is wrong, my face is wrong, my voice is wrong.
I don't fit together,
And I don't belong!
The words they throw at me...
Their hate is so strong,
Their hate is so sure.
I guess they must be right?
...and I have no more strength to fight;
My heart has taken all the hurt it can endure.
So, I am walking to the bridge now.
I am walking to the bridge...
But if just one person I pass
Looks into my eyes,
And their eyes smile at mine,
So I can see that they see me...
I will turn around.

Yay, Pride!

In a few hours I will joyously march with my dear friends behind the MaineTransNet banner in the Portland Pride Parade.  We've gotten a lovely day for it.  My darling Deb is going to march with us, which makes me happy... :-)  I'll be wearing a gorgeous red yellow green wrap-around skirt which she gave me which was at Woodstock, my elegant white top with the silver bead-work at the collar, the red flip-flops with the sparkles in the cork, and of course dangly earrings...  I hope I'll see you there...  :-)

helpful link 

Happy Pride!  :-)