2002-08-05 - 11:08 a.m.
Last week, I put up a post about disclosure and the politics around what we talk to people about, who we talk about and in what contexts, and how this is or is not okay with regard to privacy and stigmatization, among other things. I'm still thinking about it all the time. I've had a number of recent conversations/confrontations with people that continue to inflame these concerns, a couple of them involving transphobia.
First, I want to say (I can't believe it still needs to said), trans people 1) are not all the same. If you know one (or two or five or twenty), you do NOT know them all, and 2) it's not the job of trans people (or genderqueers or gender variant people) to educate non-trans people (or non-genderqueer or non-gender variant) about trans and gender issues. That said, it's also silly for any of us to think that ANYONE (transfolks included) is an expert on trans or gender. It's also silly to think that any of us exist outside of transphobia or are free and clear from being transphobic. (I hope I don't have to add that the last comment certainly doesn't mean that we are ever excused from any transphobic comments or actions we might make or engage in).
That leads me to a story about a particular sticky situation. An ex of mine (someone who I perceive to be somewhat uninformed about trans issues and who, in my experience, was not as supportive as I would have wished when I tried to broach subjects of transness when we were together) recently put out a zine with some of her friends. It was intended to be humorous and poke fun at "over-processy" and "politically policing" queers. In it, she published a "top ten reasons why I can't get a date." In it, there were various digs at vegetarianism, drunkenness, anti-television folk, androgynous names, Carhartt/ "dyke uniform" wearers, etc. There was also the item: "Because I am not a tranny."
When I inquired of her why she found the last one funny, she said, among other things, "Because there is an element of truth to it." I spoke with her about the danger of perpetuating these myths of "trans as trendy" and talked to her about the rabid and exclusionary transphobia that transfolks often experience from and in dyke communities, in contrast with the myth of superstardom and enhanced datability. She replied that "for some people, it is a trend," and that in her experience, she's only seen the "extra-interesting, extra-datable" side of transness from dyke communities rather than the exclusionary, oppressive shit. I also mentioned the problem of trans fetishizing, which was perhaps what she was driving at with the initial joke (and if so, I reminded her, it's not her joke to make). To this, she replied, "Well, yes, trans people ARE fetishized… that's why they get so many dates!" Must I even mention that trans people can usually distinguish between being asked out in a tokenizing and fetishizing manner from being asked out because we are fun, hot, good people? She also added, "and I mean, look at how much action you get!" Needless to say, 1) it's not her business, 2) she doesn't actually know, and 3) see my last sentence. It was a frustrating discussion, I left it feeling as if she hadn't heard much that I had said, and furthermore, than she had somehow proven her point that it was an OK thing to write (I still don't think so). Recently, the second installment of this discussion occurred. She approached me, asking kindly and sincerely if we could have another talk. She said she was feeling sad that she doesn't really know what I have been thinking about lately, and mentioned she had been thinking about our previous conversation. She also mentioned (and I don't doubt her request to talk further was sincere and heartfelt, but I doubt that it had absolutely nothing to do with the following) that she had spoken with a friend about our initial trans conversation, and the person said, "God, I hope [monster] doesn't think you're transphobic! Because my ex-girlfriend said something that somebody thought was transphobic, and that stuff spreads like wildfire… pretty soon, nobody will talk to you!"
Of COURSE my ex's actions and comments were transphobic. That doesn't mean she's a bad person, or that she deserves to be stigmatized or not talked to. What it does mean is that she needs to become and to be accountable for why her comments were transphobic rather than 1) denying her transphobia, or 2) feeling guilty about it and seeking validation that she's a good person. The questions that come up for me are these: I never felt like my transness was utterly disparaged during the course of our relationship, but I felt repeatedly like it was much more quickly challenged than supported, and that I would end up having to defend myself rather than feel like I was allowed to safely engage with her about it. Does that mean it's my fault that she doesn't know much about trans stuff? Of course not. Does it mean I should tell her "fuck you, you had your chance to find out from me about what I've been thinking about with respect to trans, and you lost it many times over"? Maybe. Will I? Probably not. Will I buy her books and give her detailed narratives of my thought processes, and a list of resources for her to learn about trans stuff? Probably not that either. How much of this should I tell her? Should I engage her on this because, when it comes down to it, I think she's a good and kind person with good intentions and the potential to be accountable and responsible? Should I refuse to engage her because, in my perception, she had a lot of other chances to, even if she didn't see it that way? Should I talk with her more about trans stuff? Or not about trans stuff, but about how she really has to educate herself and work to make herself approachable rather than faulting people for not approaching her? What are the repercussions of any of these conversations on me (and why is this always the last question I'm asking)?
It's a tough call for me, all of this. I am excited that she's even remotely interested in learning more about how I understand my transness. I'm saddened by how low my standards have become that I'm excited when someone approaches me saying "teach me" after publicly articulating tranphobic remarks, defending them, and only when she is warned against people not talking to her because of her transphobia, questioning her actions. However, in the midst of this, I also recognize how transphobic we all are and all have been. To what extent can we be patient while others develop greater accountability around their transphobia, and to what extent are we perpetuating this trans-hate and engaging in the bad kind of masochism by engaging with people who are still very much in a beginning process of coming to grips with just how fucked-up they are being (not to mention people who pretend to be in the midst of that process and who in reality have no intention of being accountable ever)? Who am I tolerating this shit from and why?
One of my ex's main points during our initial conversation was that trannies can't take a joke. And to an extent, she's not wrong… it's easy to be embittered and humorless when everyone is fucked up to you all of the time. However, I think that lots of us can take jokes much more gracefully than non-trans folks can… I can't imagine my gender work EVER being simply dead-serious or simply funny-jokey. It must always be both of these and more (I mean, I am B-movie monster gendered and use "monster" as a pronoun, for god's sake…isn't that at least a little bit funny!?). Gender, and the rigor and rigidity with which people defend it, is funny in the first place. The process by which this trans-mythmaking takes place is also funny. Maybe people think that we can't take a joke because sometimes, the proper response to even the funniest of jokes, is to cry rather than to laugh.
Where can we draw lines after we have recognized that all boundaries are blurry? When does patience toe or cross the line into self-destruction? When can we not have to be mad at someone or something every single day?
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