...that August is apparently "Psoriasis Awareness Month" until just now. I am somewhat active on psoriasis message boards, and yet even I did not find out that this was our month to shine until August 26th! If I didn't hear about it until now, I highly doubt that the public at large has received the message...
Anyway, in the spirit of awareness: psoriasis is a chronic auto-immune type of condition that primarily affects the skin, although it can also affect other tissues (e.g., in psoriatic arthritis). I wrote a bit about my experiences with psoriasis last winter. I have since been doing much better. I began to write a long follow up post on that, but I haven't quite gotten around to finishing it. someday soon, perhaps...
anyway, now you are aware. Have a great day! -j.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Honey Money
A friend passed this onto me:
"Catherine Hakim: charm school marm – interview"
This has got to be the funniest book review-slash-interview that I have ever read. It totally titilated my erotic capital... ; )
"Catherine Hakim: charm school marm – interview"
This has got to be the funniest book review-slash-interview that I have ever read. It totally titilated my erotic capital... ; )
Good Friday
Originally posted on LJ 4-21-11
So tomorrow is "Good Friday" - a name that totally confused me as a young (pre-recovering) Catholic child. Why is it good? Because Jesus died? If so, since when is being politically executed a good thing?
Or maybe it's good because he eventually comes back from the dead - if so, then shouldn't it be "bad Friday" and "good Sunday"?
Or maybe it's good because Jesus supposedly died for our sins? Well in world where that pope guy still insists that transsexuality and same-sex relationships are "sins", does that mean that I am forgiven? Or would I have had to be born back in the B.C. days to have been forgiven? Even if Jesus did die for *my* sins, is that something that I, as a moral human being, should be celebrating - political executions/martyrdoms that personally benefit me?
In any case, tomorrow represents an important anniversary for me. It was on Good Friday 22 years ago that I first presented as female in public!
I've already written about this on two separate occasions. I talked about it in a piece I wrote back around 2005-ish called "Cherry Picking" (which should be appearing in an anthology sometime later this year). Here's what I said about it there:
The first time that I ever went out in public dressed as a woman was when I was 21. I came home from college for Easter weekend while the rest of my family was away on a trip. I shaved off the silly looking beard I had grown over the semester. I put on my sister’s black cotton knit dress. It had long sleeves, so that no one could see my arm hair, and I wore opaque tights to hide my leg hair. I’m sure that I put way too much make-up on my face and way too much product in my hair, but nobody seemed to care because it was the eighties. I drove to a mall about an hour away from my parent’s house so that I wouldn’t run into anyone who knew me. As I approached the entrance, an older man held the door open for me and called me “sweetie”. I felt flattered and insulted at the same time, but mostly, I was just amazed to be getting away with this. After walking around the mall for about ten minutes, I realized that I was hungry and hadn’t eaten all morning. I drove to a Burger King for a shake and fries. The woman at the drive-thru window said, “Thank you ma’am,” as she handed me my change and receipt. I can’t begin to tell you how beautiful those three simple words sounded to me.
I also wrote about this meaningful moment in my life in song form - specifically a Bitesize song called "In the Know". For the occasion, I am temporarily making it available mp3-wise at this link:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/Bitesize-In%20the%20Know.mp3
for those who are interested, here are the lyrics to that song:
as you drove through illinois/i was super paranoid/sneaking out of our garage/head to toe in camouflage/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know.../while you were pumping gasoline/i spent a day in quarantine/writing run-on paragraphs/in the bedroom aftermath/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know.../your toothpaste/your mouthwash/your hair brush/your dental floss/your wash cloth/your lotion/your saline solution/all of your stuff is staring back at me/it makes me feel guilty but i’m not gonna crack/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know...
As I have written elsewhere, my Catholic upbringing really fucked me over as a young child trying to make sense of my trans-ness. So it is somewhat satisfying to know that a crucial positive moment in my trans life occurred on a sacred Catholic holiday…
-julia
So tomorrow is "Good Friday" - a name that totally confused me as a young (pre-recovering) Catholic child. Why is it good? Because Jesus died? If so, since when is being politically executed a good thing?
Or maybe it's good because he eventually comes back from the dead - if so, then shouldn't it be "bad Friday" and "good Sunday"?
Or maybe it's good because Jesus supposedly died for our sins? Well in world where that pope guy still insists that transsexuality and same-sex relationships are "sins", does that mean that I am forgiven? Or would I have had to be born back in the B.C. days to have been forgiven? Even if Jesus did die for *my* sins, is that something that I, as a moral human being, should be celebrating - political executions/martyrdoms that personally benefit me?
In any case, tomorrow represents an important anniversary for me. It was on Good Friday 22 years ago that I first presented as female in public!
I've already written about this on two separate occasions. I talked about it in a piece I wrote back around 2005-ish called "Cherry Picking" (which should be appearing in an anthology sometime later this year). Here's what I said about it there:
The first time that I ever went out in public dressed as a woman was when I was 21. I came home from college for Easter weekend while the rest of my family was away on a trip. I shaved off the silly looking beard I had grown over the semester. I put on my sister’s black cotton knit dress. It had long sleeves, so that no one could see my arm hair, and I wore opaque tights to hide my leg hair. I’m sure that I put way too much make-up on my face and way too much product in my hair, but nobody seemed to care because it was the eighties. I drove to a mall about an hour away from my parent’s house so that I wouldn’t run into anyone who knew me. As I approached the entrance, an older man held the door open for me and called me “sweetie”. I felt flattered and insulted at the same time, but mostly, I was just amazed to be getting away with this. After walking around the mall for about ten minutes, I realized that I was hungry and hadn’t eaten all morning. I drove to a Burger King for a shake and fries. The woman at the drive-thru window said, “Thank you ma’am,” as she handed me my change and receipt. I can’t begin to tell you how beautiful those three simple words sounded to me.
I also wrote about this meaningful moment in my life in song form - specifically a Bitesize song called "In the Know". For the occasion, I am temporarily making it available mp3-wise at this link:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/Bitesize-I
for those who are interested, here are the lyrics to that song:
as you drove through illinois/i was super paranoid/sneaking out of our garage/head to toe in camouflage/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know.../while you were pumping gasoline/i spent a day in quarantine/writing run-on paragraphs/in the bedroom aftermath/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know.../your toothpaste/your mouthwash/your hair brush/your dental floss/your wash cloth/your lotion/your saline solution/all of your stuff is staring back at me/it makes me feel guilty but i’m not gonna crack/but no!/i’m never gonna let you know...
As I have written elsewhere, my Catholic upbringing really fucked me over as a young child trying to make sense of my trans-ness. So it is somewhat satisfying to know that a crucial positive moment in my trans life occurred on a sacred Catholic holiday…
-julia
Skin
Originally posted on LJ 12-19-10
Skin
December 2010
I.
In August 2006, a friend was taking photos of me for use on my website and for promotion and such. During the photo-shoot, she asked a series of seemingly random questions that were meant to keep me relax and acting natural while I was being photographed. One of those questions was, “What is your favorite part of your body?” It really struck me, because no one had ever asked me that question before. And, almost without hesitation, I answered: “My skin.”
Way back during my physical transition, among the plethora of bodily changes that were taking place, the change in my skin was most profound for me. While some trans folks focus on some of the more prominent or symbolic changes, I marveled at my skin – the change in texture and appearance, how my face blossomed into a mess of freckles. I remember waking up mornings during that time, and my hand would just so happen to be touching my arm, or my leg, or face, and it would just feel right. I suppose that it’s a cliché to say that trans folks finally feel “comfortable in our own skins” post-transition. Well for me, I experienced that phrase quite literally.
II.
Nowadays, when I look at the photos that were taken of me on that August day four years ago, I notice my skin and all those freckles, but mostly my attention is drawn toward a small red blemish on my right cheek. I remember having first noticed the blemish a month before that photo-shoot, during a hectic month in which my partner at the time and I were in the process of moving for the fifth time in seven years (that is a long story in and of itself). Anyway, at first I thought the blemish was a zit, but it didn’t go away. My bird Buddy, who spends much of her time perched on my shoulder, kept trying to pick at it. I kept telling myself that I should go to the doctor to have it checked out, but I was so busy packing and unpacking, and working hard to make my end-of-the-year book manuscript deadline, that I viewed the blemish as a relatively low priority.
That changed one September day, when I noticed a little blood vessel adjacent to the red blemish. As a biologist, I am aware that tumors often recruit blood vessels, so I immediately became concerned that it might actually be cancerous. Unfortunately, I was right. What followed was a year-long ordeal during which I had a 3 square-centimeter chunk of my cheek removed, as well as two plastic surgeries to try to fix the hole that was left behind. (I described this in slightly more detail in a previous post)
These days, when I look at pictures from that August, 2006 photo-shoot, I can’t help but notice how my face has changed since then. First, I have a significant scar on my right cheek from those cancer-related surgeries. Some people tell me that you can hardly notice it. But I’ve also had people ask me outright “How did you get that scar on your face?” So I have to believe that it is fairly obvious. Even if others overlook it, it sure is noticeable to me.
And when I compare the face that appears in those old photos to the one starring back at me in the mirror now, it is striking how less freckly I am these days. This is an indirect effect of having had skin cancer, as in the years that have followed I have religiously worn sunscreen and large brimmed hats in order to reduce my exposure to the sun. The less sun exposure, the less freckles. I really liked my freckles, so it’s been kind of sad to no longer have as many.
But more than sadness, when I look back on pictures from that photo-shoot, I am filled with a profound sense of irony. On that August day when I declared that my skin was my favorite part of my body, little did I know that some of my skin cells were revolting against me, and that I would need to lose a big chunk of mostly healthy skin tissue in order to save the rest of my body from those renegade skin cells.
III.
I have been thinking quite a lot about my skin over the last two months. In fact, it has, once again, become my primary preoccupation. I have recently been diagnosed as having psoriasis, which is a chronic auto-immune condition that affects the skin. It is one of those conditions that no one fully understands, but many researchers believe that it occurs when the body mistakes healthy skin for wounded skin. Basically, what happens is that immune cells move into the epidermis and secrete factors that both cause inflammation and signal to the surrounding tissue to make new skin cells. Then, when these new skin cells arrive at the surface of the skin (where they are not actually needed), they die, resulting in what are called “plaques,” which appear at the skin’s surface. In addition to these plaques, the skin becomes very thick, red, inflamed and incredibly itchy.
Anyway, like I said, it is a chronic, life-long condition that, like many auto-immune conditions, may be dormant for periods, and then suddenly become more intense for one reason or another, often in response to stress or environmental factors. Although I was unaware of it at the time, in retrospect, I believe that I had a very mild flair-up of psoriasis during my twenties, primarily on my scalp (which is one of the more common places for it to develop) and my ears. At the time, I thought it was just a dandruff problem (a common presumption), and I battled it with dandruff shampoos. Around the age of thirty, it just seemed to go away, and I haven’t thought much about it since.
A few months ago, out of the blue, it started coming back. In September, I had my biannual full-body skin exam with my dermatologist. Normally, the focus of the exam is on potential skin cancer recurrences - luckily there were none. But this time, she found that the skin on my scalp was irritated. It was fairly mild at that point, so she suspected that it was just a case of dermatitus, which tends to be temporary and is usually less serious.
Over the next two months however, it only got worse. Upon close inspection, it became obvious that my entire scalp was extremely red and I could see plaques all over. I switched over to dandruff shampoos and conditioners, which had worked for me in the past, but they did not help at all. Eventually it became unbearable - my scalp itched incessantly and was a constant source of pain. So I went back to my dermatologist, and she said it was definitely psoriasis.
For the last month or so, I’ve been on a rigorous treatment regime, involving topical medications, medicated shampoos, and a once a week soaking-my-head-in-oil treatment to facilitate plaque removal. My scalp psoriasis has definitely subsided a bit, but has certainly not gone away. In addition, I have experienced a couple small outbreaks on other parts of my body, specifically on my arms and torso. The fact that it has started spreading to other parts of my body has really worried me, as it implies that my condition is getting worse rather than better. In people who have more severe cases, psoriasis can cover large swaths of the body. My grandmother had psoriasis, and it covered much of her legs. (Other relatives on her side of the family had it as well; it tends to run in families.) I am nowhere near that point, but the fear that my psoriasis may be becoming more widespread and severe is a constant source of concern. Some mornings I wake up and see lots of tiny, red, dry patches on my arms, which I have come to recognize as the first signs of flair ups. If I ignore them, they get larger and itchier. I can usually prevent this from happening by dousing them in lotion 4-5 times a day. Occasionally a patch or two will continue to grow, in which case I need to treat it with medication.
Unfortunately, there is no cure for psoriasis, only management of the condition. In addition to the treatments I am undertaking, I have also tried to increase my vitamin D levels and to get more sun. Apparently, the ultraviolet radiation in sunlight can signal the skin cells to stop dividing aberrantly. The irony has not been lost on me: After hiding from the sun for the last four years for fear of another incident of skin cancer, I am now actively seeking out sunlight (albeit in moderation). This has been a little difficult to achieve, as here in the Bay Area we tend to have very overcast and rainy winters. But at least we don’t have dry winters like much of the country, as this can really exacerbate the condition. Many people experience their biggest psoriasis flair ups in the winter, both because of the dryness and the sharp reduction in sunlight.
My dermatologist says that the treatments I am on, while topical, are quite strong. (Actually, I am alternating between a strong medicine and a more mild medicine every two weeks). If the topical medications fail to keep the condition in check, the fallback position (from a medical perspective) would be going on immunosuppressants. Apparently, they significantly ease psoriasis symptoms, but they have the considerable drawback of...well, being immunosuppressants. Needless to say, that is a path that I would only ever consider if absolutely necessary.
Anyway, I find myself dealing with this new development in my life on two different levels. First, there is my immediate having to deal with the changes in my body and my daily routine. Between the various treatments, making a point of getting some sun, constantly surveying my body and applying lotion, and so forth, a significant chunk of each day has become dedicated to dealing with psoriasis. Furthermore, as with most auto-immune conditions, stress is thought to exacerbate psoriasis, so I have been making a point of not pushing myself too much, and of getting a minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. This has really cut into my writing time (which has traditionally taken place early in the mornings before I head off for my day job) and other projects and chores have fallen by the wayside as well. I am hoping that this is a temporary phase, and that I will be able to resume my old schedule when/if my psoriasis goes back into remission. But of course, there are no guarantees that this will happen.
Psoriasis has also affected my quality of life in other ways, the most obvious of which is how uncomfortable the condition is. While the medication has helped a lot, my scalp is still red and inflamed and itchy a lot of the time. I liken my situation to having a minor cold: Because it is not too severe, you can go into work and get stuff done, but at the same time, you feel yucky all the time, and you are worried about exerting yourself too much for fear of the condition getting worse. It is a constant, low-level uncomfortability and cause for concern in my life; it is frustrating, but manageable.
The fact that my psoriasis is concentrated on my scalp has also touched a bit on my trans issues, specifically regarding my hair. First off, when I do my once a week oil treatment to remove plaques, I always lose lots and lots of hair - more hair that I have ever lost at one time in my life. This is most likely a temporary situation: as the plaques disappear they often take hair with them, but they usually do not affect that ability of the hair follicles to make new hair (which is what happens in actual baldness). The hair loss is probably not noticeable to anyone but me, but as a trans woman who was starting to experience male pattern baldness in the couple years just prior to my transition, the whole episode has been somewhat triggering.
In addition, I am only suppose to shampoo 2-3 times a week now, and some of the topical treatments have left my hair pretty yucky and unmanageable. Since my hair is long, I can just put it in a ponytail, which is no big deal. But the main problem is my bangs. I have a really high hairline (as a result of my previously mentioned flirtation with male pattern baldness) that is normally not very visible because of my bangs. But when my bangs don’t behave, my hairline becomes fairly obvious. In the last two weeks, I’ve had a couple instances where it seemed like strangers were either misgendering me or trying to figure out my gender. Granted, I’ve had many incidents like these in my life thus far (albeit mostly before and during my transition), and I can handle them just fine. But nevertheless, it is still a frustrating thing to have to deal with.
Anyway, those are the short-term issues that are foremost in my mind. Underneath all that, I am also trying to come to terms with the admittedly more nebulous long-term ramifications of having psoriasis. Like I said, my immediate goal is to work toward remission, but this may not be achievable. Many people deal with their psoriasis symptoms for decades without respite. And many times symptoms only get worse with time, not better. According to one paper that I read, the condition eventually becomes debilitating in 25% of people who have psoriasis. This may be due to the severity of the skin condition, or to the fact that some people who have psoriasis additionally develop psoriatic arthritis over time.
So while I am cautiously optimistic about my psoriasis going back into remission, I am also trying to come to terms with the fact that this is a chronic incurable condition that could potentially (although not necessarily) become debilitating at some point. To be honest, this was difficult to deal with at first. I just came out of a fairly traumatic last few years, and I was really hoping to have a relatively uneventful year (or two or three) with no significant obstacles or losses in my life to deal with. So when I first learned that I had this condition, I initially experienced flashes of anger and sadness.
But over time, this news has started to settle into my psyche. It has become just another part of who I am. I survived growing up trans in a transphobic world. I survived skin cancer. And I will survive psoriasis. As with all of those previous obstacles, I am working hard to control the few variables that I can control, and to let go of everything that is beyond my control. And I am trying to focus on all the things in my life that I am grateful for, rather than dwelling on the negative. Back when I was an isolated pre-teen and teen coming to terms with the fact that I was trans, I spent several years stuck on the question “why me?” I eventually realized that that was a completely pointless, unanswerable question, one that simply consumed my consciousness and prevented me from moving forward with my life. I soon learned that the more relevant and productive question to ask is: “So what do I do now?”
IV.
Back when I had skin cancer, I couldn’t shake the feeling that those cancer cells were consuming me, like a parasite or plague. At one point, I completely disavowed my right cheek - I wouldn’t even touch it - because I knew that the cancerous cells that had taken over there were no longer a part of me. They were my enemy, intent on destroying me, and I desperately wanted them to be gone from my body.
A friend recently asked me if that’s how psoriasis feels. Do I feel as though my body is being consumed by psoriasis? Do I find myself disavowing my psoriatic skin lesions? My answer to that is an unequivocal “no.” With skin cancer, a small cluster of out-of-control skin cells were growing without regard to the health and well being of the rest of my body. Psoriasis is sort of the reverse situation: it is my immune system that is attacking my otherwise healthy skin tissue. In a way, it feels as though my body is betraying my skin, sending out immune signals to sabotage it. Rather than disavowing my skin, I feel really bad for my skin, and I want to make it better. And I desperately wish that I could convince my immune system to simply leave my skin alone.
In a way, all these thoughts are rather silly. My brain, and my skin, and my immune system, and the rest of my body, are all connected. We are all me. It is pointless to anthropomorphize my individual body parts and to pit them against one another. Just as it is pointless to declare that one part of my body is my favorite, when in reality, I need all of the individual parts to work together in order to exist.
Four years ago, I declared that my skin was my favorite part of my body. In the intervening years, the two major unexpected health issues that I have had to deal with have both involved my skin. On the surface, this might seem ironic. But I no longer see it that way. The older I get, the more that I find myself coming to terms with the fact that I am one body - a body that is both strong and susceptible; a body that is healthy and fully functioning in some ways, yet vulnerable and less functional in others; a body that I take for granted in many aspects, but which occasionally bestows me with obstacles, difficulties and challenges. I love my body, and at the same time, sometimes I am extremely frustrated by it. This might seem “contradictory” or “ironic” to some people. But I am becoming increasingly aware that having these mixed feelings is simply apart of what it means to be living.
Skin
December 2010
I.
In August 2006, a friend was taking photos of me for use on my website and for promotion and such. During the photo-shoot, she asked a series of seemingly random questions that were meant to keep me relax and acting natural while I was being photographed. One of those questions was, “What is your favorite part of your body?” It really struck me, because no one had ever asked me that question before. And, almost without hesitation, I answered: “My skin.”
Way back during my physical transition, among the plethora of bodily changes that were taking place, the change in my skin was most profound for me. While some trans folks focus on some of the more prominent or symbolic changes, I marveled at my skin – the change in texture and appearance, how my face blossomed into a mess of freckles. I remember waking up mornings during that time, and my hand would just so happen to be touching my arm, or my leg, or face, and it would just feel right. I suppose that it’s a cliché to say that trans folks finally feel “comfortable in our own skins” post-transition. Well for me, I experienced that phrase quite literally.
II.
Nowadays, when I look at the photos that were taken of me on that August day four years ago, I notice my skin and all those freckles, but mostly my attention is drawn toward a small red blemish on my right cheek. I remember having first noticed the blemish a month before that photo-shoot, during a hectic month in which my partner at the time and I were in the process of moving for the fifth time in seven years (that is a long story in and of itself). Anyway, at first I thought the blemish was a zit, but it didn’t go away. My bird Buddy, who spends much of her time perched on my shoulder, kept trying to pick at it. I kept telling myself that I should go to the doctor to have it checked out, but I was so busy packing and unpacking, and working hard to make my end-of-the-year book manuscript deadline, that I viewed the blemish as a relatively low priority.
That changed one September day, when I noticed a little blood vessel adjacent to the red blemish. As a biologist, I am aware that tumors often recruit blood vessels, so I immediately became concerned that it might actually be cancerous. Unfortunately, I was right. What followed was a year-long ordeal during which I had a 3 square-centimeter chunk of my cheek removed, as well as two plastic surgeries to try to fix the hole that was left behind. (I described this in slightly more detail in a previous post)
These days, when I look at pictures from that August, 2006 photo-shoot, I can’t help but notice how my face has changed since then. First, I have a significant scar on my right cheek from those cancer-related surgeries. Some people tell me that you can hardly notice it. But I’ve also had people ask me outright “How did you get that scar on your face?” So I have to believe that it is fairly obvious. Even if others overlook it, it sure is noticeable to me.
And when I compare the face that appears in those old photos to the one starring back at me in the mirror now, it is striking how less freckly I am these days. This is an indirect effect of having had skin cancer, as in the years that have followed I have religiously worn sunscreen and large brimmed hats in order to reduce my exposure to the sun. The less sun exposure, the less freckles. I really liked my freckles, so it’s been kind of sad to no longer have as many.
But more than sadness, when I look back on pictures from that photo-shoot, I am filled with a profound sense of irony. On that August day when I declared that my skin was my favorite part of my body, little did I know that some of my skin cells were revolting against me, and that I would need to lose a big chunk of mostly healthy skin tissue in order to save the rest of my body from those renegade skin cells.
III.
I have been thinking quite a lot about my skin over the last two months. In fact, it has, once again, become my primary preoccupation. I have recently been diagnosed as having psoriasis, which is a chronic auto-immune condition that affects the skin. It is one of those conditions that no one fully understands, but many researchers believe that it occurs when the body mistakes healthy skin for wounded skin. Basically, what happens is that immune cells move into the epidermis and secrete factors that both cause inflammation and signal to the surrounding tissue to make new skin cells. Then, when these new skin cells arrive at the surface of the skin (where they are not actually needed), they die, resulting in what are called “plaques,” which appear at the skin’s surface. In addition to these plaques, the skin becomes very thick, red, inflamed and incredibly itchy.
Anyway, like I said, it is a chronic, life-long condition that, like many auto-immune conditions, may be dormant for periods, and then suddenly become more intense for one reason or another, often in response to stress or environmental factors. Although I was unaware of it at the time, in retrospect, I believe that I had a very mild flair-up of psoriasis during my twenties, primarily on my scalp (which is one of the more common places for it to develop) and my ears. At the time, I thought it was just a dandruff problem (a common presumption), and I battled it with dandruff shampoos. Around the age of thirty, it just seemed to go away, and I haven’t thought much about it since.
A few months ago, out of the blue, it started coming back. In September, I had my biannual full-body skin exam with my dermatologist. Normally, the focus of the exam is on potential skin cancer recurrences - luckily there were none. But this time, she found that the skin on my scalp was irritated. It was fairly mild at that point, so she suspected that it was just a case of dermatitus, which tends to be temporary and is usually less serious.
Over the next two months however, it only got worse. Upon close inspection, it became obvious that my entire scalp was extremely red and I could see plaques all over. I switched over to dandruff shampoos and conditioners, which had worked for me in the past, but they did not help at all. Eventually it became unbearable - my scalp itched incessantly and was a constant source of pain. So I went back to my dermatologist, and she said it was definitely psoriasis.
For the last month or so, I’ve been on a rigorous treatment regime, involving topical medications, medicated shampoos, and a once a week soaking-my-head-in-oil treatment to facilitate plaque removal. My scalp psoriasis has definitely subsided a bit, but has certainly not gone away. In addition, I have experienced a couple small outbreaks on other parts of my body, specifically on my arms and torso. The fact that it has started spreading to other parts of my body has really worried me, as it implies that my condition is getting worse rather than better. In people who have more severe cases, psoriasis can cover large swaths of the body. My grandmother had psoriasis, and it covered much of her legs. (Other relatives on her side of the family had it as well; it tends to run in families.) I am nowhere near that point, but the fear that my psoriasis may be becoming more widespread and severe is a constant source of concern. Some mornings I wake up and see lots of tiny, red, dry patches on my arms, which I have come to recognize as the first signs of flair ups. If I ignore them, they get larger and itchier. I can usually prevent this from happening by dousing them in lotion 4-5 times a day. Occasionally a patch or two will continue to grow, in which case I need to treat it with medication.
Unfortunately, there is no cure for psoriasis, only management of the condition. In addition to the treatments I am undertaking, I have also tried to increase my vitamin D levels and to get more sun. Apparently, the ultraviolet radiation in sunlight can signal the skin cells to stop dividing aberrantly. The irony has not been lost on me: After hiding from the sun for the last four years for fear of another incident of skin cancer, I am now actively seeking out sunlight (albeit in moderation). This has been a little difficult to achieve, as here in the Bay Area we tend to have very overcast and rainy winters. But at least we don’t have dry winters like much of the country, as this can really exacerbate the condition. Many people experience their biggest psoriasis flair ups in the winter, both because of the dryness and the sharp reduction in sunlight.
My dermatologist says that the treatments I am on, while topical, are quite strong. (Actually, I am alternating between a strong medicine and a more mild medicine every two weeks). If the topical medications fail to keep the condition in check, the fallback position (from a medical perspective) would be going on immunosuppressants. Apparently, they significantly ease psoriasis symptoms, but they have the considerable drawback of...well, being immunosuppressants. Needless to say, that is a path that I would only ever consider if absolutely necessary.
Anyway, I find myself dealing with this new development in my life on two different levels. First, there is my immediate having to deal with the changes in my body and my daily routine. Between the various treatments, making a point of getting some sun, constantly surveying my body and applying lotion, and so forth, a significant chunk of each day has become dedicated to dealing with psoriasis. Furthermore, as with most auto-immune conditions, stress is thought to exacerbate psoriasis, so I have been making a point of not pushing myself too much, and of getting a minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. This has really cut into my writing time (which has traditionally taken place early in the mornings before I head off for my day job) and other projects and chores have fallen by the wayside as well. I am hoping that this is a temporary phase, and that I will be able to resume my old schedule when/if my psoriasis goes back into remission. But of course, there are no guarantees that this will happen.
Psoriasis has also affected my quality of life in other ways, the most obvious of which is how uncomfortable the condition is. While the medication has helped a lot, my scalp is still red and inflamed and itchy a lot of the time. I liken my situation to having a minor cold: Because it is not too severe, you can go into work and get stuff done, but at the same time, you feel yucky all the time, and you are worried about exerting yourself too much for fear of the condition getting worse. It is a constant, low-level uncomfortability and cause for concern in my life; it is frustrating, but manageable.
The fact that my psoriasis is concentrated on my scalp has also touched a bit on my trans issues, specifically regarding my hair. First off, when I do my once a week oil treatment to remove plaques, I always lose lots and lots of hair - more hair that I have ever lost at one time in my life. This is most likely a temporary situation: as the plaques disappear they often take hair with them, but they usually do not affect that ability of the hair follicles to make new hair (which is what happens in actual baldness). The hair loss is probably not noticeable to anyone but me, but as a trans woman who was starting to experience male pattern baldness in the couple years just prior to my transition, the whole episode has been somewhat triggering.
In addition, I am only suppose to shampoo 2-3 times a week now, and some of the topical treatments have left my hair pretty yucky and unmanageable. Since my hair is long, I can just put it in a ponytail, which is no big deal. But the main problem is my bangs. I have a really high hairline (as a result of my previously mentioned flirtation with male pattern baldness) that is normally not very visible because of my bangs. But when my bangs don’t behave, my hairline becomes fairly obvious. In the last two weeks, I’ve had a couple instances where it seemed like strangers were either misgendering me or trying to figure out my gender. Granted, I’ve had many incidents like these in my life thus far (albeit mostly before and during my transition), and I can handle them just fine. But nevertheless, it is still a frustrating thing to have to deal with.
Anyway, those are the short-term issues that are foremost in my mind. Underneath all that, I am also trying to come to terms with the admittedly more nebulous long-term ramifications of having psoriasis. Like I said, my immediate goal is to work toward remission, but this may not be achievable. Many people deal with their psoriasis symptoms for decades without respite. And many times symptoms only get worse with time, not better. According to one paper that I read, the condition eventually becomes debilitating in 25% of people who have psoriasis. This may be due to the severity of the skin condition, or to the fact that some people who have psoriasis additionally develop psoriatic arthritis over time.
So while I am cautiously optimistic about my psoriasis going back into remission, I am also trying to come to terms with the fact that this is a chronic incurable condition that could potentially (although not necessarily) become debilitating at some point. To be honest, this was difficult to deal with at first. I just came out of a fairly traumatic last few years, and I was really hoping to have a relatively uneventful year (or two or three) with no significant obstacles or losses in my life to deal with. So when I first learned that I had this condition, I initially experienced flashes of anger and sadness.
But over time, this news has started to settle into my psyche. It has become just another part of who I am. I survived growing up trans in a transphobic world. I survived skin cancer. And I will survive psoriasis. As with all of those previous obstacles, I am working hard to control the few variables that I can control, and to let go of everything that is beyond my control. And I am trying to focus on all the things in my life that I am grateful for, rather than dwelling on the negative. Back when I was an isolated pre-teen and teen coming to terms with the fact that I was trans, I spent several years stuck on the question “why me?” I eventually realized that that was a completely pointless, unanswerable question, one that simply consumed my consciousness and prevented me from moving forward with my life. I soon learned that the more relevant and productive question to ask is: “So what do I do now?”
IV.
Back when I had skin cancer, I couldn’t shake the feeling that those cancer cells were consuming me, like a parasite or plague. At one point, I completely disavowed my right cheek - I wouldn’t even touch it - because I knew that the cancerous cells that had taken over there were no longer a part of me. They were my enemy, intent on destroying me, and I desperately wanted them to be gone from my body.
A friend recently asked me if that’s how psoriasis feels. Do I feel as though my body is being consumed by psoriasis? Do I find myself disavowing my psoriatic skin lesions? My answer to that is an unequivocal “no.” With skin cancer, a small cluster of out-of-control skin cells were growing without regard to the health and well being of the rest of my body. Psoriasis is sort of the reverse situation: it is my immune system that is attacking my otherwise healthy skin tissue. In a way, it feels as though my body is betraying my skin, sending out immune signals to sabotage it. Rather than disavowing my skin, I feel really bad for my skin, and I want to make it better. And I desperately wish that I could convince my immune system to simply leave my skin alone.
In a way, all these thoughts are rather silly. My brain, and my skin, and my immune system, and the rest of my body, are all connected. We are all me. It is pointless to anthropomorphize my individual body parts and to pit them against one another. Just as it is pointless to declare that one part of my body is my favorite, when in reality, I need all of the individual parts to work together in order to exist.
Four years ago, I declared that my skin was my favorite part of my body. In the intervening years, the two major unexpected health issues that I have had to deal with have both involved my skin. On the surface, this might seem ironic. But I no longer see it that way. The older I get, the more that I find myself coming to terms with the fact that I am one body - a body that is both strong and susceptible; a body that is healthy and fully functioning in some ways, yet vulnerable and less functional in others; a body that I take for granted in many aspects, but which occasionally bestows me with obstacles, difficulties and challenges. I love my body, and at the same time, sometimes I am extremely frustrated by it. This might seem “contradictory” or “ironic” to some people. But I am becoming increasingly aware that having these mixed feelings is simply apart of what it means to be living.
on having fallen off the face of the earth...
Originally posted 1-4-10
This is not only my first post of 2010, but it is my first post more generally in quite some time. In my last post (way back in October), I made this vague comment to explain my lack of posting through the Fall of 2009:
“i've had four major life changes/upturnings (some good, some not so good, some a little of both) that have dominated my thoughts and time over the last two months.”
Since the start of new year is traditionally a time for recapping the previous year’s events, I thought it appropriate to be a little more explicit about some of the things that have been going on with me during the last half of 2009.
Of the “four major life changes” I was referring to, the least immediate one has been related to my day job. I found out a while back that the grant that my PI (aka., my boss) uses to pay me is not being renewed. Funding doesn’t officially run out until August 2010, so it is a bit premature to worry too much about it just yet. Plus, my PI is applying for new grants, so it may turn out that I keep my current job. But, especially given the suckiness of the economy/job market lately, this lack of stability has been generating some low-level stress in my life over the last year.
On top of that, in September through October, I became swamped by two very time- and energy-consuming matters. The first was my divorce. Dani (who is now going by the name Lily (and no, the name change is not gender-related!)) and I separated way back in mid-2008, but we didn’t take care of all of the legal stuff until the second half of this year. Things are very amicable between us, and we have developed a solid friendship post-marriage, so we didn’t have to contend with any of the drama/fighting people usually associate with divorce. And I had done most of the grieving over the end of our relationship back when we originally separated, so the divorce itself was not the intensely emotional experience it might have been if we had done it last year. However, despite occurring under relatively good circumstances, the divorce was incredibly draining. For those who have not been through a divorce before, I can’t even begin to tell you how much paperwork is involved. Form after form, each having to be filed in a specific order, many of them also having to be served on the other person. So even though we were on good terms and in agreement on how we would split everything up, it still took many months of seemingly ceaseless paper-filing to get through it all. If getting married was even half as bureaucratically complicated as divorce is...well, let’s just say there would be way less married people.
The other logistical issue that I was dealing with last Fall was getting all of my ducks in a row for my December visit to Montreal. And yes, I was going to Montreal to do the thing that trans women often do when they go to Montreal, if you get the nub of my gist. I already had my two letters at this point, but I still had to undergo a series of blood/medical tests, fill out lots of paperwork, and so forth. Somewhat surprisingly, obtaining SRS did not involve nearly as much paperwork as obtaining a divorce. But the fact that I was dealing with both issues simultaneously was really exhausting.
Once everything was finally arranged, I spent the last two weeks of November frantically preparing for being away from home for two weeks, and ensuring that everything in my apartment was set up in such a way as to make things easy for me to get around and take care of myself during an additional month and a half of healing.
I should mention at this point that I have very mixed feelings about publicly writing about my SRS. On the one hand, it is this really big thing that has taken place in my life, and its something that I’ve wanted for a long time, but could not afford until now. And like many writers, I have that compulsion (for better or worse) to write about my experiences—its how I make sense of my life, and in some cases, it’s how I exorcise my demons. So it makes sense that I would want to write about an experience as important as this. But on the other hand, I have long railed against two assumptions that constantly plague trans folks: 1) that it is somehow incumbent upon us to constantly reveal our genital status to anyone and everyone at the drop of a hat, and 2) that one is not a “real” transsexual or a “real” woman/man unless one has SRS. So I do have some concerns that publicly discussing my SRS here might inadvertently play into these presumptions.
So, for the record, I am discussing my SRS here, not because it’s my “job” as a trans person to keep the world up to date on my genital status, but because (as a writer) I have simply chosen to write about this recent event in my life. Furthermore, I chose to undergo SRS because of a personal understanding of how my body should be, not because of other people’s fucked up expectations. I respect the fact that other trans people may pursue SRS for reasons that are somewhat different from my own, and still others may choose not to pursue it at all. These are personal decisions, and each is equally valid. I have lived the last 8 years of my life as a woman who just so happened to have a penis. I am no more of a woman now than I was then. And I strongly believe that there are few things more inherently anti-trans than the notion that all trans people must pursue SRS (or any other procedure for that matter) in order to be considered a “real” or “bona fide” transsexual/woman/man/etc.
<<!-- end disclaimer...>>
Anyway, my surgery took place in early December, and I’ve been home for about two weeks now. The recovery process is long and slow, but everything has gone well thus far. I have been keeping busy with lots of DVDs, dilations, and occasional visits from friends. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to write or to get online as much as I had hoped, as it’s hard to use your laptop when your lap is on the mend...
One would think that having SRS would be the biggest recent news in my life, but that’s not actually the case. Its significance has been overshadowed by the “fourth major life change.” My Mom passed away back in November. She had a myriad of health problems over the last year, the main one being cancer of the mouth. She went into the hospital for a couple weeks in late October due to a radiation/chemo-related infection, but she never fully recovered from that. I flew in when it became clear that the end was near, and I got to spend her last few days with her, so I suppose I did have some “closure,” for what that’s worth. I grieved a lot the first few weeks after it happened, but then suddenly my SRS was upon me, so I’ve been trying to be positive and to focus on getting better for now, rather than dwelling on her death. But it’s been hard...
Anyway, I didn't want to end on a down note. The way that I look at it, 2009 was a really sucky year for the most part. But on the bright side, it’s over now. I miss my Mom, and that feeling won’t go away any time soon (or perhaps ever), but at least her suffering is over. Both the divorce & my SRS have happened, so now I can focus on my healing and on making 2010 an interesting, fun & productive year...
Obligatory new years resolution(s): To be healthy and to focus in earnest on the next book.
This is not only my first post of 2010, but it is my first post more generally in quite some time. In my last post (way back in October), I made this vague comment to explain my lack of posting through the Fall of 2009:
“i've had four major life changes/upturnings (some good, some not so good, some a little of both) that have dominated my thoughts and time over the last two months.”
Since the start of new year is traditionally a time for recapping the previous year’s events, I thought it appropriate to be a little more explicit about some of the things that have been going on with me during the last half of 2009.
Of the “four major life changes” I was referring to, the least immediate one has been related to my day job. I found out a while back that the grant that my PI (aka., my boss) uses to pay me is not being renewed. Funding doesn’t officially run out until August 2010, so it is a bit premature to worry too much about it just yet. Plus, my PI is applying for new grants, so it may turn out that I keep my current job. But, especially given the suckiness of the economy/job market lately, this lack of stability has been generating some low-level stress in my life over the last year.
On top of that, in September through October, I became swamped by two very time- and energy-consuming matters. The first was my divorce. Dani (who is now going by the name Lily (and no, the name change is not gender-related!)) and I separated way back in mid-2008, but we didn’t take care of all of the legal stuff until the second half of this year. Things are very amicable between us, and we have developed a solid friendship post-marriage, so we didn’t have to contend with any of the drama/fighting people usually associate with divorce. And I had done most of the grieving over the end of our relationship back when we originally separated, so the divorce itself was not the intensely emotional experience it might have been if we had done it last year. However, despite occurring under relatively good circumstances, the divorce was incredibly draining. For those who have not been through a divorce before, I can’t even begin to tell you how much paperwork is involved. Form after form, each having to be filed in a specific order, many of them also having to be served on the other person. So even though we were on good terms and in agreement on how we would split everything up, it still took many months of seemingly ceaseless paper-filing to get through it all. If getting married was even half as bureaucratically complicated as divorce is...well, let’s just say there would be way less married people.
The other logistical issue that I was dealing with last Fall was getting all of my ducks in a row for my December visit to Montreal. And yes, I was going to Montreal to do the thing that trans women often do when they go to Montreal, if you get the nub of my gist. I already had my two letters at this point, but I still had to undergo a series of blood/medical tests, fill out lots of paperwork, and so forth. Somewhat surprisingly, obtaining SRS did not involve nearly as much paperwork as obtaining a divorce. But the fact that I was dealing with both issues simultaneously was really exhausting.
Once everything was finally arranged, I spent the last two weeks of November frantically preparing for being away from home for two weeks, and ensuring that everything in my apartment was set up in such a way as to make things easy for me to get around and take care of myself during an additional month and a half of healing.
I should mention at this point that I have very mixed feelings about publicly writing about my SRS. On the one hand, it is this really big thing that has taken place in my life, and its something that I’ve wanted for a long time, but could not afford until now. And like many writers, I have that compulsion (for better or worse) to write about my experiences—its how I make sense of my life, and in some cases, it’s how I exorcise my demons. So it makes sense that I would want to write about an experience as important as this. But on the other hand, I have long railed against two assumptions that constantly plague trans folks: 1) that it is somehow incumbent upon us to constantly reveal our genital status to anyone and everyone at the drop of a hat, and 2) that one is not a “real” transsexual or a “real” woman/man unless one has SRS. So I do have some concerns that publicly discussing my SRS here might inadvertently play into these presumptions.
So, for the record, I am discussing my SRS here, not because it’s my “job” as a trans person to keep the world up to date on my genital status, but because (as a writer) I have simply chosen to write about this recent event in my life. Furthermore, I chose to undergo SRS because of a personal understanding of how my body should be, not because of other people’s fucked up expectations. I respect the fact that other trans people may pursue SRS for reasons that are somewhat different from my own, and still others may choose not to pursue it at all. These are personal decisions, and each is equally valid. I have lived the last 8 years of my life as a woman who just so happened to have a penis. I am no more of a woman now than I was then. And I strongly believe that there are few things more inherently anti-trans than the notion that all trans people must pursue SRS (or any other procedure for that matter) in order to be considered a “real” or “bona fide” transsexual/woman/man/etc.
<<!-- end disclaimer...>>
Anyway, my surgery took place in early December, and I’ve been home for about two weeks now. The recovery process is long and slow, but everything has gone well thus far. I have been keeping busy with lots of DVDs, dilations, and occasional visits from friends. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to write or to get online as much as I had hoped, as it’s hard to use your laptop when your lap is on the mend...
One would think that having SRS would be the biggest recent news in my life, but that’s not actually the case. Its significance has been overshadowed by the “fourth major life change.” My Mom passed away back in November. She had a myriad of health problems over the last year, the main one being cancer of the mouth. She went into the hospital for a couple weeks in late October due to a radiation/chemo-related infection, but she never fully recovered from that. I flew in when it became clear that the end was near, and I got to spend her last few days with her, so I suppose I did have some “closure,” for what that’s worth. I grieved a lot the first few weeks after it happened, but then suddenly my SRS was upon me, so I’ve been trying to be positive and to focus on getting better for now, rather than dwelling on her death. But it’s been hard...
Anyway, I didn't want to end on a down note. The way that I look at it, 2009 was a really sucky year for the most part. But on the bright side, it’s over now. I miss my Mom, and that feeling won’t go away any time soon (or perhaps ever), but at least her suffering is over. Both the divorce & my SRS have happened, so now I can focus on my healing and on making 2010 an interesting, fun & productive year...
Obligatory new years resolution(s): To be healthy and to focus in earnest on the next book.
wow, the rest of the world really is as dumb as it seems...
Originally posted on LJ 10-27-09
ok, so i have not been posting much. nor have i been writing much more generally. i've had four major life changes/upturnings (some good, some not so good, some a little of both) that have dominated my thoughts and time over the last two months. i will probably write about some of them later, but in the meantime i've been mostly being kinda hermit-ish, taking care of myself, and so on...
one of my big escapes in the midst of all this has been watching the MLB (aka, baseball) playoffs. so i am not a big sports-geek at all, but i have a weak spot for baseball. when i was a young kid (aka, elementary school) i dreamed of being a major league baseball player. it was also my favorite sport to play, although i was not especially good at it. (although, being the smallest boy in my league, i also had the smallest strike zone. since i wasn't a great hitter, my little league coaches used to encourage me to get walks. i got to be pretty good at working the count. back when i played (late 70s, early 80s) nobody paid any attention to On Base Percentage - if they did, i might have been an all-star..., but i digress...).
anyway, i hadn't followed baseball regularly for years until last year, when the Phillies (aka, of Philadelphia, where I grew up), made the playoffs and went onto win the World Series. the team has also been great this year too. i only got to see them play (on TV) about 5 times during the regular season, being that i am on the West Coast now. But since they've made the playoffs again, I've been following them regualrly. they have provided excellent escapism for me. escapism from my work, which has been more hectic than usual. and escapism from all of the trans/gender/activism/writing i do. while i enjoy the trans/gender/activism/writing i do, the "source material" i work with is often really troubling (e.g., people writing fucked up things about trans folks, media depictions mocking gender-nonconformity, and so on). so it's good to take breaks from it from time and time...
But the New York Post has ruined that for me today. The day before the World Series, they ran this cover. It is Shane Victorino's (a Phillies player) upper half photoshop'd onto a short-skirted cheer-leader's lower half. the caption says "the Frillies are coming to town!"
am i surprised? no, not really.
is it trans-misogynistic? duh.
is my annoyance compounded by the fact that pro-Philly folks relentlessly point out that it's a photoshop job (aka, that Shane does not sport ladies wear)? you better believe it!
i just want to escape. where does a baseball-lovin' trans lady turn these days in order to achieve transmisogyny-free escapism?
sigh...
-julia
ok, so i have not been posting much. nor have i been writing much more generally. i've had four major life changes/upturnings (some good, some not so good, some a little of both) that have dominated my thoughts and time over the last two months. i will probably write about some of them later, but in the meantime i've been mostly being kinda hermit-ish, taking care of myself, and so on...
one of my big escapes in the midst of all this has been watching the MLB (aka, baseball) playoffs. so i am not a big sports-geek at all, but i have a weak spot for baseball. when i was a young kid (aka, elementary school) i dreamed of being a major league baseball player. it was also my favorite sport to play, although i was not especially good at it. (although, being the smallest boy in my league, i also had the smallest strike zone. since i wasn't a great hitter, my little league coaches used to encourage me to get walks. i got to be pretty good at working the count. back when i played (late 70s, early 80s) nobody paid any attention to On Base Percentage - if they did, i might have been an all-star..., but i digress...).
anyway, i hadn't followed baseball regularly for years until last year, when the Phillies (aka, of Philadelphia, where I grew up), made the playoffs and went onto win the World Series. the team has also been great this year too. i only got to see them play (on TV) about 5 times during the regular season, being that i am on the West Coast now. But since they've made the playoffs again, I've been following them regualrly. they have provided excellent escapism for me. escapism from my work, which has been more hectic than usual. and escapism from all of the trans/gender/activism/writing i do. while i enjoy the trans/gender/activism/writing i do, the "source material" i work with is often really troubling (e.g., people writing fucked up things about trans folks, media depictions mocking gender-nonconformity, and so on). so it's good to take breaks from it from time and time...
But the New York Post has ruined that for me today. The day before the World Series, they ran this cover. It is Shane Victorino's (a Phillies player) upper half photoshop'd onto a short-skirted cheer-leader's lower half. the caption says "the Frillies are coming to town!"
am i surprised? no, not really.
is it trans-misogynistic? duh.
is my annoyance compounded by the fact that pro-Philly folks relentlessly point out that it's a photoshop job (aka, that Shane does not sport ladies wear)? you better believe it!
i just want to escape. where does a baseball-lovin' trans lady turn these days in order to achieve transmisogyny-free escapism?
sigh...
-julia
so I was assaulted last night...
Originally posted on LJ 9-6-09
so I was assaulted last night. i’m ok, but it was traumatic nonetheless.
after having gone out to dinner with friends, I walking home down 14th St, when I see a group of four people: two men, two women. They seemed youngish (early 20s?) and boisterous. There are a lot of bars in my neighborhood, so I assumed they were just in party-mode. I was on the far right-side of the sidewalk (to let them pass), and just as they were about to move past me, one of the women stepped right in front of me and clocked me (aka, purposefully punched me) right on the bridge of my nose and my glasses fell off. as she did it, she said “bitch!”
it was completely unprovoked: I hadn’t done anything, and there was no sign that she was going to take a shot at me until it happened. I don’t think I was targeted for any reason. I just think that she was wasted and did something random and stupid and impulsive. The two guys she was with laughed, as if they were taken completely by surprise, and were amused at how random and stupid and impulsive what she did was.
As soon as it happened, everything seemed like a dream, probably because my fight-or-flight system kicked in. My first impulse was to turn around and punch her back. I didn’t strike her hard (as she was walking away from me), but I made contact on her back. It was pure instinct. They all turned around. They were all bigger than me, and as rational thought kicked in again, I realized that nothing good could come from this. Plus, as it happened, I yelled “fuck you!” in the deepest, loudest, boom-iest, rage-iest voice I could muster (aka, it was a distinctively testosterone-influenced vocal cord moment). I am not sure what they made of it, but I figured that if they did suddenly became aware that I was trans, it would only throw more fuel onto the fire. so, with no other viable alternatives, I shouted one last profanity at her and started walking away. As I did, I heard her step on my glasses (on purpose, I assume). Because everything was adrenaline-rush dreamy-like, I didn’t think much about it at first - i think I assumed it was just my sunglasses. But then everything was blurry and I realized that “duh,” it was nighttime, and I had wore my glasses rather than contacts that eve. fuck...
I feel lucky that it wasn’t any worse than it was. My nose is black-and-blue and scraped up, but no blood, nothing broken, nothing stolen. Just a pair of broken glasses. oh yeah, and almost forgot, a little touch of post-traumatic stress disorder.
I feel like I shouldn’t talk about my emotional reaction to this, like its taboo. When something frightening/awful happens to us, we’re suppose to simply assure everyone we’re doing ok. “No worries, I’m fine, thanks for asking.” I am mostly fine, but not entirely. I feel really really really really really angry on the inside. It sometimes comes to the surface unexpectedly. I yelled at someone on BART today, and at someone else at Trader Joe’s. They did mildly annoying things, but I yelled like they had fucking crossed me.
There’s a homeless guy who is always on my block. I have to pass by him almost every day. He is clearly not mentally balanced. Some days he’s fine. Other days he’s wandering around in traffic yelling at cars. On his bad days, he often tries to fuck with me. A lot of times he will purposefully walk in front of me, to block me from walking around him. He’s also tried to fondle me twice, and sometimes he mumbles “bitch” or “cunt” as I walk by. But he was fine today. He nicely asked for change as I walked by. And I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to walk by him today with out yelling at him or kicking him or spitting on him or something. I was just filled with rage, and I wanted to take it out on him. It wasn’t his fault - I mean, he wasn’t the one who clocked me last night. But I am just so full of rage.
Most of my rage is directed at the woman who clocked me last night. I’ve had about 200 flashbacks of the incident today. It sounds weird to say that, like it’s too straight out of a psychology 101 textbook to actually be a real thing, but it’s true. I keep re-imagining, in a highly vivid way, the events as they unfolded last night. I keep imagining her take that step in front of me, and her arm going up to clock me. And then I mentally intervene. I imagine grabbing her arm and twisting it back behind her as she falls to the ground. Or I imagine striking her first, preemptively. I imagine her writhing in pain. I want her to feel pain.
Granted, this is not the rational, intellectual part of my brain speaking. That part of me actually feels sorry for her, for the fact that she and her friends think that random acts of violence against people are funny. But the rest of me - the physiological, emotional me - wants to beat her fucking brains in.
I know from past traumas that the rage I feel now will pass with time. But there is one lesson that I will never forget, and it has to do with gender stereotyping. I will never ever ever again stereotype women as not being violent...
-julia
p.s., the picture above (of me with the bandage on my face) is not from today - it's from when I had a big chunk of my cheek removed due to skin cancer 3 years ago. But somehow, it seemed appropriate. Cancer, like being assaulted, truly sucks...
so I was assaulted last night. i’m ok, but it was traumatic nonetheless.
after having gone out to dinner with friends, I walking home down 14th St, when I see a group of four people: two men, two women. They seemed youngish (early 20s?) and boisterous. There are a lot of bars in my neighborhood, so I assumed they were just in party-mode. I was on the far right-side of the sidewalk (to let them pass), and just as they were about to move past me, one of the women stepped right in front of me and clocked me (aka, purposefully punched me) right on the bridge of my nose and my glasses fell off. as she did it, she said “bitch!”
it was completely unprovoked: I hadn’t done anything, and there was no sign that she was going to take a shot at me until it happened. I don’t think I was targeted for any reason. I just think that she was wasted and did something random and stupid and impulsive. The two guys she was with laughed, as if they were taken completely by surprise, and were amused at how random and stupid and impulsive what she did was.
As soon as it happened, everything seemed like a dream, probably because my fight-or-flight system kicked in. My first impulse was to turn around and punch her back. I didn’t strike her hard (as she was walking away from me), but I made contact on her back. It was pure instinct. They all turned around. They were all bigger than me, and as rational thought kicked in again, I realized that nothing good could come from this. Plus, as it happened, I yelled “fuck you!” in the deepest, loudest, boom-iest, rage-iest voice I could muster (aka, it was a distinctively testosterone-influenced vocal cord moment). I am not sure what they made of it, but I figured that if they did suddenly became aware that I was trans, it would only throw more fuel onto the fire. so, with no other viable alternatives, I shouted one last profanity at her and started walking away. As I did, I heard her step on my glasses (on purpose, I assume). Because everything was adrenaline-rush dreamy-like, I didn’t think much about it at first - i think I assumed it was just my sunglasses. But then everything was blurry and I realized that “duh,” it was nighttime, and I had wore my glasses rather than contacts that eve. fuck...
I feel lucky that it wasn’t any worse than it was. My nose is black-and-blue and scraped up, but no blood, nothing broken, nothing stolen. Just a pair of broken glasses. oh yeah, and almost forgot, a little touch of post-traumatic stress disorder.
I feel like I shouldn’t talk about my emotional reaction to this, like its taboo. When something frightening/awful happens to us, we’re suppose to simply assure everyone we’re doing ok. “No worries, I’m fine, thanks for asking.” I am mostly fine, but not entirely. I feel really really really really really angry on the inside. It sometimes comes to the surface unexpectedly. I yelled at someone on BART today, and at someone else at Trader Joe’s. They did mildly annoying things, but I yelled like they had fucking crossed me.
There’s a homeless guy who is always on my block. I have to pass by him almost every day. He is clearly not mentally balanced. Some days he’s fine. Other days he’s wandering around in traffic yelling at cars. On his bad days, he often tries to fuck with me. A lot of times he will purposefully walk in front of me, to block me from walking around him. He’s also tried to fondle me twice, and sometimes he mumbles “bitch” or “cunt” as I walk by. But he was fine today. He nicely asked for change as I walked by. And I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to walk by him today with out yelling at him or kicking him or spitting on him or something. I was just filled with rage, and I wanted to take it out on him. It wasn’t his fault - I mean, he wasn’t the one who clocked me last night. But I am just so full of rage.
Most of my rage is directed at the woman who clocked me last night. I’ve had about 200 flashbacks of the incident today. It sounds weird to say that, like it’s too straight out of a psychology 101 textbook to actually be a real thing, but it’s true. I keep re-imagining, in a highly vivid way, the events as they unfolded last night. I keep imagining her take that step in front of me, and her arm going up to clock me. And then I mentally intervene. I imagine grabbing her arm and twisting it back behind her as she falls to the ground. Or I imagine striking her first, preemptively. I imagine her writhing in pain. I want her to feel pain.
Granted, this is not the rational, intellectual part of my brain speaking. That part of me actually feels sorry for her, for the fact that she and her friends think that random acts of violence against people are funny. But the rest of me - the physiological, emotional me - wants to beat her fucking brains in.
I know from past traumas that the rage I feel now will pass with time. But there is one lesson that I will never forget, and it has to do with gender stereotyping. I will never ever ever again stereotype women as not being violent...
-julia
p.s., the picture above (of me with the bandage on my face) is not from today - it's from when I had a big chunk of my cheek removed due to skin cancer 3 years ago. But somehow, it seemed appropriate. Cancer, like being assaulted, truly sucks...
Girl Talk: A Cis and Trans Woman Dialogue
Originally posted on LJ 6-3-09
Happy Pride month everyone!
I just wanted to let everyone know about a 2009 National Queer Arts Festival show I will be participating in this month. It is called Girl Talk: A Cis and Trans Woman Dialogue - it is a spoken word event that I have co-curated with Gina de Vries (and featuring an awesome cast!) on a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. If you are in the San Francisco Bay Area on June 17th, I highly encourage you to come out for it! All the details and a description of the show are below. Please be sure to order advance tickets online, as the event may sell out...
The National Queer Arts Festival Presents:
Girl Talk: A Cis & Trans Woman Dialogue
http://www.queerculturalcenter.org/Pages/QFest09/GirlTalk.html
Curated by Gina de Vries & Julia Serano
Wednesday, June 17th
LGBT Center - Ceremonial Room
1800 Market Street, San Francisco
7:30pm
Tickets: $12-$20
Buy Tickets on-line!!: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/66001
Featuring the lovely & fabulous!:
Ryka Aoki de la Cruz
Tina D’Elia
Gina de Vries
Dorian Katz
Nomy Lamm
Julia Serano
Rose Sims (aka Little Light)
Lauren Steely
Queer cisgender women and queer transgender women are allies, friends, support systems, lovers, and partners to each other. Trans and cis women are allies to each other every day -- from activism that includes everything from Take Back the Night to Camp Trans; to supporting each other in having “othered” bodies in a world that is obsessed with idealized body types; to loving, having sex, and building family with each other in a world that wants us to disappear. Girl Talk is a spoken word show fostering and promoting dialogue about these relationships. Trans and cis women will read about their relationships of all kinds – sexual and romantic, chosen and blood family, friendships, support networks, activist alliances. Join us for a night of stories about sex, bodies, feminism, activism, challenging exclusion in masculine-centric dyke spaces, dating and breaking up, finding each other, and finding love and family.
*********
note added on 6-20-09 (i.e., after the show):
The show was amazing! For those who were not able to make it, you can listen to an mp3 of the show, which (for the foreseeable future) will be available here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/6_17_09-GirlTalk09.mp3
here are the times for those interested:
0:00:00 Pam's introduction
0:03:16 Gina
0:17:39 Ryka
0:32:26 Tina
0:42:26 Lauren
1:06:23 Nomy
1:19:23 Rose
1:33:09 Dorian
1:46:17 Julia
Happy Pride month everyone!
I just wanted to let everyone know about a 2009 National Queer Arts Festival show I will be participating in this month. It is called Girl Talk: A Cis and Trans Woman Dialogue - it is a spoken word event that I have co-curated with Gina de Vries (and featuring an awesome cast!) on a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. If you are in the San Francisco Bay Area on June 17th, I highly encourage you to come out for it! All the details and a description of the show are below. Please be sure to order advance tickets online, as the event may sell out...
The National Queer Arts Festival Presents:
Girl Talk: A Cis & Trans Woman Dialogue
http://www.queerculturalcenter.org/Pages/Q
Curated by Gina de Vries & Julia Serano
Wednesday, June 17th
LGBT Center - Ceremonial Room
1800 Market Street, San Francisco
7:30pm
Tickets: $12-$20
Buy Tickets on-line!!: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/6
Featuring the lovely & fabulous!:
Ryka Aoki de la Cruz
Tina D’Elia
Gina de Vries
Dorian Katz
Nomy Lamm
Julia Serano
Rose Sims (aka Little Light)
Lauren Steely
Queer cisgender women and queer transgender women are allies, friends, support systems, lovers, and partners to each other. Trans and cis women are allies to each other every day -- from activism that includes everything from Take Back the Night to Camp Trans; to supporting each other in having “othered” bodies in a world that is obsessed with idealized body types; to loving, having sex, and building family with each other in a world that wants us to disappear. Girl Talk is a spoken word show fostering and promoting dialogue about these relationships. Trans and cis women will read about their relationships of all kinds – sexual and romantic, chosen and blood family, friendships, support networks, activist alliances. Join us for a night of stories about sex, bodies, feminism, activism, challenging exclusion in masculine-centric dyke spaces, dating and breaking up, finding each other, and finding love and family.
*********
note added on 6-20-09 (i.e., after the show):
The show was amazing! For those who were not able to make it, you can listen to an mp3 of the show, which (for the foreseeable future) will be available here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/6_17_09-Gi
here are the times for those interested:
0:00:00 Pam's introduction
0:03:16 Gina
0:17:39 Ryka
0:32:26 Tina
0:42:26 Lauren
1:06:23 Nomy
1:19:23 Rose
1:33:09 Dorian
1:46:17 Julia
Whipping Girl FAQ on cissexual, cisgender, and cis privilege
Originally posted on LJ 5-14-09
Ok, so this is the fourth installment of my Whipping Girl FAQ, where I answer common questions and/or clear up confusion about what I said (or was trying to say) in WG. This FAQ discusses the “cis/trans” distinction and “cis” privilege.
The origin of “cis”
I have come across people who have assumed that I invented the terms cissexual and cisgender, but this is not the case. I reference “cissexual” this way in my book:
I was inspired to begin using the term “cissexual” after reading one of Emi Koyama’s Interchange entries (www.eminism.org/interchange/2002/20020607-wmstl.html ). Apparently, the related term “cisgender” was first coined in 1995 by a transsexual man named Carl Buijs.
I don’t know much about Carl Buijs or why he coined the term “cisgender.” But as a scientist (where the prefixes “trans” and “cis” are routinely used), this terminology seems fairly obvious in retrospect. “Trans” means “across” or “on the opposite side of,” whereas “cis” means “on the same side of.” So if someone who was assigned one sex at birth, but comes to identify and live as a member of the other sex, is called a “transsexual” (because they have crossed from one sex to the other), then the someone who lives and identifies as the sex they were assigned at birth is called a “cissexual.”
As someone who was assigned a male sex at birth, but who lives and identifies as female, I may be described as a transsexual woman, a transgender woman, or a trans woman. Those women who (unlike me) were assigned a female sex at birth may be similarly described as cissexual women, cisgender women, or cis women.
(note: I discuss the terms “transsexual” and “transgender” more extensively in a previous WG FAQ)
Why use the term “cis”?
I suppose different people might give different answers to this question, so it is probably best for me to explain why *I* started using this terminology, and why I chose to include it in the book.
I began writing Whipping Girl in 2005, before I had heard of the “cis” terminology. A major focus of the book was to debunk many of the myths and misconceptions people have about transsexuals. Initially, I was kind of scattershot in my approach: In one chapter, I would critique the way the term “passing” is used in reference to transsexuals. In another chapter I would critique the use of the terms “bio boy” and “genetic girl” to describe non-trans men and women. In yet another chapter, I would critique the way that transsexuals are always depicted as imitating or impersonating “real” (read: non-trans) women and men. And so on. After a while, it became obvious to me that all of these phenomena were stemming from the same presumption: that transsexual gender identities and sex embodiments are inherently less natural and less legitimate than those of nontranssexual people.
I realized that it would make a lot more sense to write a chapter for the book that thoroughly exposes this double standard and describes the many ways it is employed in order to marginalize transsexuals. As I was contemplating this, I stumbled onto the aforementioned Emi Koyama post, where she discusses the usefulness of the terms cissexual, cisgender and cissexism. She said:
“...they de-centralize the dominant group, exposing it as merely one possible alternative rather than the "norm" against which trans people are defined. I don't expect the word to come into common usage anytime soon, but I felt it was an interesting concept - a feminist one, in fact - which is why I am using it.”
It was then that I realized that the double standard that I was writing about already had a name: cissexism. And the chapter of WG dedicated to debunking cissexism eventually took on the title: “Dismantling Cissexual Privilege.”
People sometimes freak out a bit when confronted with new terms/language. So when doing presentations, I often offer the following analogy to help people understand the usefulness of this terminology:
Fifty years ago, homosexuality was almost universally seen as unnatural, immoral, illegitimate, etc. Back then, people regularly talked about “homosexuals,” but nobody ever talked about “heterosexuals.” In a sense, there were no “heterosexuals”—everyone who wasn’t engaged in same-sex behavior was simply considered “normal.” Their sexualities were unmarked and taken for granted.
If you were lesbian, gay or bisexual (LGB) during this time period, there was almost no way for you to convince the rest of society that you were unfairly marginalized. In society’s eyes, nobody was oppressing you, it was simply your fault or problem that you were “abnormal.” In fact, it was quite common for LGB people to buy into this presumption of abnormality themselves, as there was simply no other obvious way to view their predicament.
But then gay rights activists began challenging this notion. They pointed out that all people have sexualities (not just homosexuals). The so-called “normal” people weren’t really “normal” per se, but rather they were “heterosexual.” And the activists pointed out that heterosexuals weren’t necessarily any better or more righteous than homosexuals. It was just that heterosexism—the belief that same-sex attraction and relationships are less natural and legitimate than heterosexual ones—is institutionalized within society and functions to unfairly marginalize those who engage in same-sex relationships.
Once one recognizes that heterosexism is a double standard, then it becomes clear that (whether they realize it or not) heterosexuals are privileged in our society. They can legally marry, engage in public displays of affection with their significant other without fear of being assaulted, their relationships are typically approved of, and even celebrated, by others, and so on. Like all forms of privilege, heterosexual privilege is invisible to those who experience it—they simply take it for granted. By describing and discussing heterosexism and heterosexual privilege, LGB activists have made great gains over time toward leveling the playing field with regards to sexual orientation in our culture.
One can easily understand the potential power of cis/trans terminology by simply replacing “heterosexual” with “cissexual,” “heterosexism” with “cissexism,” and “heterosexual privilege” with “cissexual privilege” in the above analogy.
Critiques of the “cis/trans” terminology
While cissexism and cissexual privilege are useful concepts, I have met many people (both cis and trans) who don’t like the cis/trans distinction. Here are my thoughts on some of the more common criticisms:
1) It sounds too academic/jargony; why can’t we speak in plain, simple English?
First, “cis” is not an academic term, it is an activist one. And it sounds like jargon simply because most people are unfamiliar with it. On a recent Feministing post on this very topic, cannonball put it this way:
“words that start with cis may seem esoteric, but how many times are words like “sexism” and “heterosexism” thrown back at groups who work to end oppression as too academic?”
(note: cannonball’s post was a response to two earlier excellent posts by Queen Emily at Questioning Transphobia: Cis is not an “academic” term and Cis (2). In those posts, she goes more in depth into the cis-as-academic trope than I do here.)
To be honest, when people make the can’t-we-speak-in-plain-simple-English complaint, I just want to bonk them over the head with a stack of George Orwell books. Our ideas/thoughts/concepts/beliefs are very much constrained by the words available to us. If we didn’t have the terms heterosexual, heterosexism and heterosexual privilege, those of us who are LGB wouldn’t have the language to describe (and thus challenge) the marginalization we face because of who we sleep with. If we all just spoke “plain English” circa the 1950’s, where do you think we’d be these days with regards to sexual orientation-based discrimination?
2) comment often made by cis people: “but I don’t identify with the term cis.”
Cis is not meant to be an identity. Rather, it simply describes the way that one is perceived by others.
An analogy: I don’t strongly *identify* with the terms “white” and “able-bodied,” even though I am both of those things. After all, I have been able to navigate my way through the world without ever having to give much thought to those aspects of my person. And that’s the point: It is my white privilege and able-bodied privilege that enables me *not* to have to deal with racism and ableism on a daily basis!
In general, we only identify with those aspects of ourselves that are marked. For example, I identify as bisexual, and as a trans woman, because those are issues that I have to deal with all of the time (because of other people’s prejudices). While I may not strongly identify as white or able-bodied, it would be entitled for me to completely disavow myself from those labels, as it would deny the white privilege and able-bodied privilege I regularly experience.
3) comment often made by trans people: "I don’t like the distinction between cis/trans because I don’t think that I am any different from a cis woman (or man)."
I can relate to this sentiment. After all, I don’t believe that I (as a trans woman) am inherently different from cis women. Such a view point would be essentialist/universalist, as it would assume that all cis women are the “same” as each other and entirely distinct from trans women. This ignores the large amount of variation amongst, and overlap between, cis and trans women.
When I use the terms cis/trans, it is not to talk about *actual* differences between cis and trans bodies/identities/genders/people, but rather *perceived* differences. In other words, while I don’t think that my gender is inherently different from that of a cis woman, I am aware that most people tend to *view* my gender differently (i.e., as less natural/valid/authentic) than cis women’s genders.
Here’s how I put it in WG:
[Some people] might dismiss much of this language as contributing to a “reverse discourse”—that is, by describing myself as a transsexual and creating trans-specific terms to describe my experiences, I am simply reinforcing the same distinction between transsexuals and cissexuals that has marginalized me in the first place. My response to both of these arguments is the same: I do not believe that transsexuals and cissexuals are inherently different from one another. But, the vastly different ways in which we are perceived and treated by others (based on whether or not we are trans) and the way those differences impact our unique physical and social experiences with both femaleness and maleness, lead many transsexuals to see and understand gender very differently than our cissexual counterparts. And while transsexuals are extremely familiar with cissexual perspectives of gender (as they dominate in our culture), most cissexuals remain largely unfamiliar with trans perspectives. Thus, to ask me to only use words that cissexuals are familiar with in order to describe my gendered experiences is similar to asking a musician to only use words that non-musicians understand when describing music. It can be done, but something crucial would surely be lost in the translation. Just as a musician cannot fully explain their reaction to a particular song without bringing up concepts such as “minor key” or “time signature,” there are certain trans-specific words and ideas that will appear throughout this book that are crucial for me to precisely convey my thoughts and experiences regarding gender. In order to have an illuminating and nuanced discussion about my experiences and perspectives as a trans woman, we must begin to think in terms of words and ideas that accurately describe that experience.
The limitations of cis privilege:
A friend recently told me of a trans woman she knew who complained that other women were exercising cis privilege over her whenever they complained about their periods. This is what I told my friend:
I understand where the person is coming from, but I would be hesitant to call that cissexual privilege. I try to only use the term with regards to social and legal legitimacy (e.g., that cis people’s legal sex & gender identities are taken for granted and considered valid in a way that trans people’s are not). In those cases, there is a blatant societal double-standard at work, and cis folks should be made aware that they are taking something for granted that others cannot.
But once we get into issues of biology or bodies (rather than the rights and entitlements associated with them), things become more fraught. For example, I have white privilege, not because my skin has less pigment than people of color, but because my whiteness enables me to not have to face racism on a day-to-day basis. I have able-bodied privilege, not because I can see or walk "just fine", but because (in a society that presumes that everyone can see signs or walk up a flight of stairs if necessary) I don't face the same obstacles or barriers in my day-to-day life that differently-abled people do.
Sometimes, when other women I know are bitching about their periods or pregnancies, I get really sad. While I certainly don’t doubt that those experiences are painful and difficult, I feel a sense of loss about not having the opportunity to choose to bare a child if I wished. (I’m not sure that I would want to do that if I were able, but it would be nice to have that option available to me). I have a cis female cousin who had very irregular periods her whole life and who was distraught to find out as a young adult that she couldn’t bare children (she & her husband eventually adopted after years of infertility treatment attempts). While we’ve never talked about it, I’m sure we both relate to our similar situations in very different ways. For me, it’s wrapped up in my sadness about not having been born female. For her (being socialized female), it’s more likely tied to her having imagined since she was a child that someday she’d become pregnant and have her own children.
Both of us are biologically unable to have regular periods or get pregnant. Both of us experience sadness and loss at the fact that we have been denied something that other women take for granted. But to say that people who properly menstruate have cis privilege, or menstruation privilege, plays into a kind of pathologizing mentality. It plays into the idea that my (and her) body is intrinsically “wrong” while other bodies are “right.” I know some trans people see things that way, but I find that disempowering. I wish I had been born female and that I could menstruate, just like I wish that I didn’t have skin cancer two years ago, or that I wasn’t hypothyroid, or that I wasn’t on the verge of needing bifocals (and I’m only 41 for Christsakes!), etc. But I don’t feel like I was denied any privileges because my body isn’t the way that I wish it was. It only becomes about privilege when I am deemed inferior or less legitimate than other people because of my body and situation.
My cousin and I share some similarities, but also some differences. She was able to qualify for adoption despite being infertile. It is very likely that if I applied for adoption (on the grounds that I am infertile because I am transsexual) that I would be denied because of my trans status. If I were denied for that reason, that would be a clear case of cis privilege. And while I don’t consider it cis privilege when other women are bitching about their periods, I have had cis women tell me that I am “lucky” that I don’t have periods. I know for a fact that they would *never* tell someone like my cousin (an infertile cis woman) that she is lucky for the same reason. In that case, I would definitely say cis privilege is at work (because of the double standard).
I am glad that WG helped to popularize the usage of cissexism and cis privilege. But it is important to keep in mind that all of us are privileged in some ways and marginalized in others. As a trans person, I am very sensitive to cis privilege, but not so attuned to my own white privilege or able-bodied privilege. In the past, I have presumed that someone was exercising cis privilege over me only to find out later that they didn’t even know I was trans. And I have had people (rightly) call me out when I have inadvertently said something that was steeped in my own white privilege or able-bodied privilege without being conscious of it.
This is especially important to keep in mind in feminist settings, where both cis and trans women are marginalized in largely overlapping, albeit sometimes different ways. Being forced against my will into boyhood overall really sucked for me, but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t experience *some* advantages as a result. For instance, I was given more freedom in many ways than my sisters growing up. And I honestly can’t say whether or not I would have become a scientist if I was raised female. Similarly, I have no doubt that there are a lot of aspects about being raised as a cis girl that really suck. But there are also advantages (e.g., having people take your gender identity seriously, not being forced against your will into boyhood, etc.).
I want to be a part of a feminist community where we can talk about cis woman-specific issues *and* trans woman-specific issues without the former group being automatically called out for exercising cis privilege and the latter group automatically being called out for supposed male privilege. To achieve this, it is important for us to challenge oppression/privilege when it occurs. But it is also important for us to listen to what others have to say, to give people the benefit of doubt whenever possible. Some people are stubbornly prejudiced and repeat offenders, and they of course should be taken to task for it. But most of us (I hope) genuinely want to both understand *and* to be understood. Discussions of “privilege” should be about teaching (and learning) how we each see and experience the world differently; how we each have blind-spots; how we each make incorrect and undermining assumptions about other people. Discussions of “privilege” should serve as a teaching tool, not a weapon to wield.
Ok, so this is the fourth installment of my Whipping Girl FAQ, where I answer common questions and/or clear up confusion about what I said (or was trying to say) in WG. This FAQ discusses the “cis/trans” distinction and “cis” privilege.
The origin of “cis”
I have come across people who have assumed that I invented the terms cissexual and cisgender, but this is not the case. I reference “cissexual” this way in my book:
I was inspired to begin using the term “cissexual” after reading one of Emi Koyama’s Interchange entries (www.eminism.org/interchange/2002/2002060
I don’t know much about Carl Buijs or why he coined the term “cisgender.” But as a scientist (where the prefixes “trans” and “cis” are routinely used), this terminology seems fairly obvious in retrospect. “Trans” means “across” or “on the opposite side of,” whereas “cis” means “on the same side of.” So if someone who was assigned one sex at birth, but comes to identify and live as a member of the other sex, is called a “transsexual” (because they have crossed from one sex to the other), then the someone who lives and identifies as the sex they were assigned at birth is called a “cissexual.”
As someone who was assigned a male sex at birth, but who lives and identifies as female, I may be described as a transsexual woman, a transgender woman, or a trans woman. Those women who (unlike me) were assigned a female sex at birth may be similarly described as cissexual women, cisgender women, or cis women.
(note: I discuss the terms “transsexual” and “transgender” more extensively in a previous WG FAQ)
Why use the term “cis”?
I suppose different people might give different answers to this question, so it is probably best for me to explain why *I* started using this terminology, and why I chose to include it in the book.
I began writing Whipping Girl in 2005, before I had heard of the “cis” terminology. A major focus of the book was to debunk many of the myths and misconceptions people have about transsexuals. Initially, I was kind of scattershot in my approach: In one chapter, I would critique the way the term “passing” is used in reference to transsexuals. In another chapter I would critique the use of the terms “bio boy” and “genetic girl” to describe non-trans men and women. In yet another chapter, I would critique the way that transsexuals are always depicted as imitating or impersonating “real” (read: non-trans) women and men. And so on. After a while, it became obvious to me that all of these phenomena were stemming from the same presumption: that transsexual gender identities and sex embodiments are inherently less natural and less legitimate than those of nontranssexual people.
I realized that it would make a lot more sense to write a chapter for the book that thoroughly exposes this double standard and describes the many ways it is employed in order to marginalize transsexuals. As I was contemplating this, I stumbled onto the aforementioned Emi Koyama post, where she discusses the usefulness of the terms cissexual, cisgender and cissexism. She said:
“...they de-centralize the dominant group, exposing it as merely one possible alternative rather than the "norm" against which trans people are defined. I don't expect the word to come into common usage anytime soon, but I felt it was an interesting concept - a feminist one, in fact - which is why I am using it.”
It was then that I realized that the double standard that I was writing about already had a name: cissexism. And the chapter of WG dedicated to debunking cissexism eventually took on the title: “Dismantling Cissexual Privilege.”
People sometimes freak out a bit when confronted with new terms/language. So when doing presentations, I often offer the following analogy to help people understand the usefulness of this terminology:
Fifty years ago, homosexuality was almost universally seen as unnatural, immoral, illegitimate, etc. Back then, people regularly talked about “homosexuals,” but nobody ever talked about “heterosexuals.” In a sense, there were no “heterosexuals”—everyone who wasn’t engaged in same-sex behavior was simply considered “normal.” Their sexualities were unmarked and taken for granted.
If you were lesbian, gay or bisexual (LGB) during this time period, there was almost no way for you to convince the rest of society that you were unfairly marginalized. In society’s eyes, nobody was oppressing you, it was simply your fault or problem that you were “abnormal.” In fact, it was quite common for LGB people to buy into this presumption of abnormality themselves, as there was simply no other obvious way to view their predicament.
But then gay rights activists began challenging this notion. They pointed out that all people have sexualities (not just homosexuals). The so-called “normal” people weren’t really “normal” per se, but rather they were “heterosexual.” And the activists pointed out that heterosexuals weren’t necessarily any better or more righteous than homosexuals. It was just that heterosexism—the belief that same-sex attraction and relationships are less natural and legitimate than heterosexual ones—is institutionalized within society and functions to unfairly marginalize those who engage in same-sex relationships.
Once one recognizes that heterosexism is a double standard, then it becomes clear that (whether they realize it or not) heterosexuals are privileged in our society. They can legally marry, engage in public displays of affection with their significant other without fear of being assaulted, their relationships are typically approved of, and even celebrated, by others, and so on. Like all forms of privilege, heterosexual privilege is invisible to those who experience it—they simply take it for granted. By describing and discussing heterosexism and heterosexual privilege, LGB activists have made great gains over time toward leveling the playing field with regards to sexual orientation in our culture.
One can easily understand the potential power of cis/trans terminology by simply replacing “heterosexual” with “cissexual,” “heterosexism” with “cissexism,” and “heterosexual privilege” with “cissexual privilege” in the above analogy.
Critiques of the “cis/trans” terminology
While cissexism and cissexual privilege are useful concepts, I have met many people (both cis and trans) who don’t like the cis/trans distinction. Here are my thoughts on some of the more common criticisms:
1) It sounds too academic/jargony; why can’t we speak in plain, simple English?
First, “cis” is not an academic term, it is an activist one. And it sounds like jargon simply because most people are unfamiliar with it. On a recent Feministing post on this very topic, cannonball put it this way:
“words that start with cis may seem esoteric, but how many times are words like “sexism” and “heterosexism” thrown back at groups who work to end oppression as too academic?”
(note: cannonball’s post was a response to two earlier excellent posts by Queen Emily at Questioning Transphobia: Cis is not an “academic” term and Cis (2). In those posts, she goes more in depth into the cis-as-academic trope than I do here.)
To be honest, when people make the can’t-we-speak-in-plain-simple-English complaint, I just want to bonk them over the head with a stack of George Orwell books. Our ideas/thoughts/concepts/beliefs are very much constrained by the words available to us. If we didn’t have the terms heterosexual, heterosexism and heterosexual privilege, those of us who are LGB wouldn’t have the language to describe (and thus challenge) the marginalization we face because of who we sleep with. If we all just spoke “plain English” circa the 1950’s, where do you think we’d be these days with regards to sexual orientation-based discrimination?
2) comment often made by cis people: “but I don’t identify with the term cis.”
Cis is not meant to be an identity. Rather, it simply describes the way that one is perceived by others.
An analogy: I don’t strongly *identify* with the terms “white” and “able-bodied,” even though I am both of those things. After all, I have been able to navigate my way through the world without ever having to give much thought to those aspects of my person. And that’s the point: It is my white privilege and able-bodied privilege that enables me *not* to have to deal with racism and ableism on a daily basis!
In general, we only identify with those aspects of ourselves that are marked. For example, I identify as bisexual, and as a trans woman, because those are issues that I have to deal with all of the time (because of other people’s prejudices). While I may not strongly identify as white or able-bodied, it would be entitled for me to completely disavow myself from those labels, as it would deny the white privilege and able-bodied privilege I regularly experience.
3) comment often made by trans people: "I don’t like the distinction between cis/trans because I don’t think that I am any different from a cis woman (or man)."
I can relate to this sentiment. After all, I don’t believe that I (as a trans woman) am inherently different from cis women. Such a view point would be essentialist/universalist, as it would assume that all cis women are the “same” as each other and entirely distinct from trans women. This ignores the large amount of variation amongst, and overlap between, cis and trans women.
When I use the terms cis/trans, it is not to talk about *actual* differences between cis and trans bodies/identities/genders/people, but rather *perceived* differences. In other words, while I don’t think that my gender is inherently different from that of a cis woman, I am aware that most people tend to *view* my gender differently (i.e., as less natural/valid/authentic) than cis women’s genders.
Here’s how I put it in WG:
[Some people] might dismiss much of this language as contributing to a “reverse discourse”—that is, by describing myself as a transsexual and creating trans-specific terms to describe my experiences, I am simply reinforcing the same distinction between transsexuals and cissexuals that has marginalized me in the first place. My response to both of these arguments is the same: I do not believe that transsexuals and cissexuals are inherently different from one another. But, the vastly different ways in which we are perceived and treated by others (based on whether or not we are trans) and the way those differences impact our unique physical and social experiences with both femaleness and maleness, lead many transsexuals to see and understand gender very differently than our cissexual counterparts. And while transsexuals are extremely familiar with cissexual perspectives of gender (as they dominate in our culture), most cissexuals remain largely unfamiliar with trans perspectives. Thus, to ask me to only use words that cissexuals are familiar with in order to describe my gendered experiences is similar to asking a musician to only use words that non-musicians understand when describing music. It can be done, but something crucial would surely be lost in the translation. Just as a musician cannot fully explain their reaction to a particular song without bringing up concepts such as “minor key” or “time signature,” there are certain trans-specific words and ideas that will appear throughout this book that are crucial for me to precisely convey my thoughts and experiences regarding gender. In order to have an illuminating and nuanced discussion about my experiences and perspectives as a trans woman, we must begin to think in terms of words and ideas that accurately describe that experience.
The limitations of cis privilege:
A friend recently told me of a trans woman she knew who complained that other women were exercising cis privilege over her whenever they complained about their periods. This is what I told my friend:
I understand where the person is coming from, but I would be hesitant to call that cissexual privilege. I try to only use the term with regards to social and legal legitimacy (e.g., that cis people’s legal sex & gender identities are taken for granted and considered valid in a way that trans people’s are not). In those cases, there is a blatant societal double-standard at work, and cis folks should be made aware that they are taking something for granted that others cannot.
But once we get into issues of biology or bodies (rather than the rights and entitlements associated with them), things become more fraught. For example, I have white privilege, not because my skin has less pigment than people of color, but because my whiteness enables me to not have to face racism on a day-to-day basis. I have able-bodied privilege, not because I can see or walk "just fine", but because (in a society that presumes that everyone can see signs or walk up a flight of stairs if necessary) I don't face the same obstacles or barriers in my day-to-day life that differently-abled people do.
Sometimes, when other women I know are bitching about their periods or pregnancies, I get really sad. While I certainly don’t doubt that those experiences are painful and difficult, I feel a sense of loss about not having the opportunity to choose to bare a child if I wished. (I’m not sure that I would want to do that if I were able, but it would be nice to have that option available to me). I have a cis female cousin who had very irregular periods her whole life and who was distraught to find out as a young adult that she couldn’t bare children (she & her husband eventually adopted after years of infertility treatment attempts). While we’ve never talked about it, I’m sure we both relate to our similar situations in very different ways. For me, it’s wrapped up in my sadness about not having been born female. For her (being socialized female), it’s more likely tied to her having imagined since she was a child that someday she’d become pregnant and have her own children.
Both of us are biologically unable to have regular periods or get pregnant. Both of us experience sadness and loss at the fact that we have been denied something that other women take for granted. But to say that people who properly menstruate have cis privilege, or menstruation privilege, plays into a kind of pathologizing mentality. It plays into the idea that my (and her) body is intrinsically “wrong” while other bodies are “right.” I know some trans people see things that way, but I find that disempowering. I wish I had been born female and that I could menstruate, just like I wish that I didn’t have skin cancer two years ago, or that I wasn’t hypothyroid, or that I wasn’t on the verge of needing bifocals (and I’m only 41 for Christsakes!), etc. But I don’t feel like I was denied any privileges because my body isn’t the way that I wish it was. It only becomes about privilege when I am deemed inferior or less legitimate than other people because of my body and situation.
My cousin and I share some similarities, but also some differences. She was able to qualify for adoption despite being infertile. It is very likely that if I applied for adoption (on the grounds that I am infertile because I am transsexual) that I would be denied because of my trans status. If I were denied for that reason, that would be a clear case of cis privilege. And while I don’t consider it cis privilege when other women are bitching about their periods, I have had cis women tell me that I am “lucky” that I don’t have periods. I know for a fact that they would *never* tell someone like my cousin (an infertile cis woman) that she is lucky for the same reason. In that case, I would definitely say cis privilege is at work (because of the double standard).
I am glad that WG helped to popularize the usage of cissexism and cis privilege. But it is important to keep in mind that all of us are privileged in some ways and marginalized in others. As a trans person, I am very sensitive to cis privilege, but not so attuned to my own white privilege or able-bodied privilege. In the past, I have presumed that someone was exercising cis privilege over me only to find out later that they didn’t even know I was trans. And I have had people (rightly) call me out when I have inadvertently said something that was steeped in my own white privilege or able-bodied privilege without being conscious of it.
This is especially important to keep in mind in feminist settings, where both cis and trans women are marginalized in largely overlapping, albeit sometimes different ways. Being forced against my will into boyhood overall really sucked for me, but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t experience *some* advantages as a result. For instance, I was given more freedom in many ways than my sisters growing up. And I honestly can’t say whether or not I would have become a scientist if I was raised female. Similarly, I have no doubt that there are a lot of aspects about being raised as a cis girl that really suck. But there are also advantages (e.g., having people take your gender identity seriously, not being forced against your will into boyhood, etc.).
I want to be a part of a feminist community where we can talk about cis woman-specific issues *and* trans woman-specific issues without the former group being automatically called out for exercising cis privilege and the latter group automatically being called out for supposed male privilege. To achieve this, it is important for us to challenge oppression/privilege when it occurs. But it is also important for us to listen to what others have to say, to give people the benefit of doubt whenever possible. Some people are stubbornly prejudiced and repeat offenders, and they of course should be taken to task for it. But most of us (I hope) genuinely want to both understand *and* to be understood. Discussions of “privilege” should be about teaching (and learning) how we each see and experience the world differently; how we each have blind-spots; how we each make incorrect and undermining assumptions about other people. Discussions of “privilege” should serve as a teaching tool, not a weapon to wield.
Why feminists should be concerned with the impending revision of the DSM
Originally posted on LJ 5-6-09
FYI, I just posted a piece called Why feminists should be concerned with the impending revision of the DSM over at Feministing.com. It's mostly about Ray Blanchard's suggestions to revise the Paraphilia section. Feel free to check it out if you're interested... j.
FYI, I just posted a piece called Why feminists should be concerned with the impending revision of the DSM over at Feministing.com. It's mostly about Ray Blanchard's suggestions to revise the Paraphilia section. Feel free to check it out if you're interested... j.
AmazonFail
originally posted on LJ 4-12-09
So it seems that Amazon is ranking my book again. I checked it on Sunday night and it was de-ranked at the time. But it seems to be back up now...
For those who have no clue what I’m talking about, here’s the deal: On Sunday (i.e., yesterday, April 12) news broke that many LGBTIQ books were no longer being "ranked" by Amazon.com due to their "adult" content. Apparently, this ranking is crucial for determining how books come up on searches. So if a book has no rank, it doesn't come up in searches for keywords, and thus is effectively censored to a certain degree. The LA Times ran a big story on it and lots of bloggers went to town on it (some of the more informative posts I found about it include: Jezebel, Meta Writer, tehdely, Jessica at Feministing). In the Twitter-dome, people referred to the incident as "amazonfail," a term that has apparently become the official name of this debacle. Amazon now says that the whole thing was due to a "glitch," but as many of the aforementioned blogposts discuss, this seems unlikely. Also discussed in the aforementioned blogposts, the de-ranking especially affected books about LGBTIQ issues, feminism & gender studies, rape survivors, and so on (read: subjects the "religious right" abhors), while blatant hetero-porn (e.g., Playboy) was not affected. tehdely offers this explanation for this discrepancy:
It's obvious Amazon has some sort of automatic mechanism that marks a book as "adult" after too many people have complained about it. It's also obvious that there aren't too many people using this feature, as indicated by the easy availability (and search ranking) of pornography and sex toys and other seemingly "objectionable" materials, otherwise almost all of those items would have been flagged by this point. So somebody is going around and very deliberately flagging only LGBT(QQI)/feminist/survivor content on Amazon until it is unranked and becomes much more difficult to find.
This seems to make sense to me. It would also explain why Kindle versions of many de-ranked books were not de-ranked (as such pages are relatively new and have not accumulated enough "flags" yet.
Anyway, while the incident seems to be somewhat over, there is a petition I encourage you to sign.
-julia
So it seems that Amazon is ranking my book again. I checked it on Sunday night and it was de-ranked at the time. But it seems to be back up now...
For those who have no clue what I’m talking about, here’s the deal: On Sunday (i.e., yesterday, April 12) news broke that many LGBTIQ books were no longer being "ranked" by Amazon.com due to their "adult" content. Apparently, this ranking is crucial for determining how books come up on searches. So if a book has no rank, it doesn't come up in searches for keywords, and thus is effectively censored to a certain degree. The LA Times ran a big story on it and lots of bloggers went to town on it (some of the more informative posts I found about it include: Jezebel, Meta Writer, tehdely, Jessica at Feministing). In the Twitter-dome, people referred to the incident as "amazonfail," a term that has apparently become the official name of this debacle. Amazon now says that the whole thing was due to a "glitch," but as many of the aforementioned blogposts discuss, this seems unlikely. Also discussed in the aforementioned blogposts, the de-ranking especially affected books about LGBTIQ issues, feminism & gender studies, rape survivors, and so on (read: subjects the "religious right" abhors), while blatant hetero-porn (e.g., Playboy) was not affected. tehdely offers this explanation for this discrepancy:
It's obvious Amazon has some sort of automatic mechanism that marks a book as "adult" after too many people have complained about it. It's also obvious that there aren't too many people using this feature, as indicated by the easy availability (and search ranking) of pornography and sex toys and other seemingly "objectionable" materials, otherwise almost all of those items would have been flagged by this point. So somebody is going around and very deliberately flagging only LGBT(QQI)/feminist/survivor content on Amazon until it is unranked and becomes much more difficult to find.
This seems to make sense to me. It would also explain why Kindle versions of many de-ranked books were not de-ranked (as such pages are relatively new and have not accumulated enough "flags" yet.
Anyway, while the incident seems to be somewhat over, there is a petition I encourage you to sign.
-julia
more comedy jokes
Originally posted on LJ 4-4-09
so I recently got back from a crazy, hectic week on the road. I had three college presentations, plus the WAM! conference, all in one week. The WAM! conference was especially fun – I got to meet lots of people whose blogs I have read and/or folks I’ve corresponded with but whom I have never met face to face. It is neat to meet people that you know, but have never seen with your own eyes. It makes you realize how often we unconsciously make assumptions about people based upon their appearance in the "offline" world.
At WAM!, I was on a panel called “In/Out of Focus, Broadening a Feminist Lens: Gender, Non-Conformity and the Media” which was moderated by Kate Bovitch, and also included Miriam Zoila Perez and Jack Aponte. The conference filmed it and video of it should appear on the web soon – I’ll let you know when it happens...
At WAM!, I also learned that I am probably the only feminist in the world not Twitter-ing, and that I was likely the only person there who was not actively blogging about the conference. Although, I suppose I’m blogging about it now. But in the new modern world, does blogging about something ex post facto even count anymore? sigh...
While on my trip, I also got to see my family, since the last college event was in Bryn Mawr - a 15 minute drive from my parents house (aka, the house that I mostly grew up in). I had a weird time capsule moment while at Bryn Mawr. I remembered bike riding around that campus when a car pulled up beside me. A middle-age-ish guy rolled down his window, said he was from out of town, and asked if there were any good bars or clubs in the area (this was day time, mind you). I told him that I was home from college and never really went out around this area. Then he asked me if I liked to party. No lie: he literally said “do you like to party?” It was only then that I naively realized that he had been hitting on me. I said no, not really, and biked off. I think that was the first time that a guy ever hit on me as a boy (or, at least, the first time I figured out what was going on).
On my trip, I read my first fun, non-gender-y book in a long while: the Steve Martin book Born Standing Up, which chronicles his stand-up career. Lots of folks younger than me seem surprised when I say that he is probably my favorite stand-up comedian ever. They probably know him only from his many lame movie appearances over the last 20 years. Or they have seen little snippets of him saying “Excuuuuuse me” or “I’m a wild and crazy guy” and they got the impression that he was a shtick-y sort of comedian. But he was actually very surreal and “intellectual” (as he’d often joke). For those who have not been initiated, I highly encourage you to check out his comedy albums (e.g., Let’s Get Small. or Wild and Crazy Guy).
Anyway, I’ve been poking around YouTube looking for old bits from his stand up days (there are too few) when I stumbled onto this. It’s Steve Martin guest hosting the old Johnny Carson Tonight Show. The main guest is Burt Reynolds in his sexyist-man-alive heyday and, if you have the endurance to make it to part three, Burt Reynolds shaves off half of his moustache live on TV. and, if you make it to part four, Burt & Steve share a man-kiss. enjoy...
I know this will make me sound old, but I felt like I was at home watching it. I have no desire to go back to the 70’s. Nostalgia is kinda dumb, as every decade has its good points and bad points. But it was nice seeing something from my ten-year-oldish days that made me smile. those were (for better or worse) my formative years...
-julie
so I recently got back from a crazy, hectic week on the road. I had three college presentations, plus the WAM! conference, all in one week. The WAM! conference was especially fun – I got to meet lots of people whose blogs I have read and/or folks I’ve corresponded with but whom I have never met face to face. It is neat to meet people that you know, but have never seen with your own eyes. It makes you realize how often we unconsciously make assumptions about people based upon their appearance in the "offline" world.
At WAM!, I was on a panel called “In/Out of Focus, Broadening a Feminist Lens: Gender, Non-Conformity and the Media” which was moderated by Kate Bovitch, and also included Miriam Zoila Perez and Jack Aponte. The conference filmed it and video of it should appear on the web soon – I’ll let you know when it happens...
At WAM!, I also learned that I am probably the only feminist in the world not Twitter-ing, and that I was likely the only person there who was not actively blogging about the conference. Although, I suppose I’m blogging about it now. But in the new modern world, does blogging about something ex post facto even count anymore? sigh...
While on my trip, I also got to see my family, since the last college event was in Bryn Mawr - a 15 minute drive from my parents house (aka, the house that I mostly grew up in). I had a weird time capsule moment while at Bryn Mawr. I remembered bike riding around that campus when a car pulled up beside me. A middle-age-ish guy rolled down his window, said he was from out of town, and asked if there were any good bars or clubs in the area (this was day time, mind you). I told him that I was home from college and never really went out around this area. Then he asked me if I liked to party. No lie: he literally said “do you like to party?” It was only then that I naively realized that he had been hitting on me. I said no, not really, and biked off. I think that was the first time that a guy ever hit on me as a boy (or, at least, the first time I figured out what was going on).
On my trip, I read my first fun, non-gender-y book in a long while: the Steve Martin book Born Standing Up, which chronicles his stand-up career. Lots of folks younger than me seem surprised when I say that he is probably my favorite stand-up comedian ever. They probably know him only from his many lame movie appearances over the last 20 years. Or they have seen little snippets of him saying “Excuuuuuse me” or “I’m a wild and crazy guy” and they got the impression that he was a shtick-y sort of comedian. But he was actually very surreal and “intellectual” (as he’d often joke). For those who have not been initiated, I highly encourage you to check out his comedy albums (e.g., Let’s Get Small. or Wild and Crazy Guy).
Anyway, I’ve been poking around YouTube looking for old bits from his stand up days (there are too few) when I stumbled onto this. It’s Steve Martin guest hosting the old Johnny Carson Tonight Show. The main guest is Burt Reynolds in his sexyist-man-alive heyday and, if you have the endurance to make it to part three, Burt Reynolds shaves off half of his moustache live on TV. and, if you make it to part four, Burt & Steve share a man-kiss. enjoy...
I know this will make me sound old, but I felt like I was at home watching it. I have no desire to go back to the 70’s. Nostalgia is kinda dumb, as every decade has its good points and bad points. But it was nice seeing something from my ten-year-oldish days that made me smile. those were (for better or worse) my formative years...
-julie
Am I the only person offended by this?
Originally posted on LJ 2-12-09
ok, so the following is a rant that I posted on a trans-themed email list. It is in reference an exposé written by folks within the gender variant community about a proponent of autogynephilia theory who happens to be a trans woman. Now this person has said some messed up things about people I respect, and she is accused of a number of other things which I have heard second hand that, if true, are very disturbing. Having said that, I wrote the following post in response to certain aspects of that exposé that really really bothered me as a trans woman and activist. For anonymity reasons, I have omitted/deleted names of the person in question, as well as those who published the exposé. I ask those who wish to leave comments to respect this anonymity...
Am I the only person offended by this?
I can understand why someone would want to critique what proponents of “autogynephilia” say about that theory. And if a hypothetical individual were to engage in shady behaviors—for example, misrepresenting themselves, inconsistent, distorted or fraudulent writings, edit-warring (as _____ is alleged to have done)—I can understand why someone might want to bring it to other people’s attention. But I am especially appalled by two of the tactics employed against _____ in the above [deleted] link.
The first is the insinuation that _____ isn’t a “real” transsexual (in fact, the very word transsexual is often placed in quotes in reference to her). It is insinuated that she must not be a “real” transsexual because she still has facial hair. I guess that means that I’m not a real transsexual either. In fact, off the top of my head, I can name at least ten dedicated trans women activists I know who (like myself and ______) have not completed electrolysis. You wanna know why? Because it’s fucking expensive! In addition to being classist, that tactic is oppressive. Deeming that some people are “real” transsexuals while other people are not is exactly what the gatekeepers have been doing to us for years.
Second, I am disturbed by the way the report essentially accuses her of being “autogynephilic” (both because she supposedly asked a girl to the prom and because other people supposedly view her as a “tranny chaser”). Reading those passages made me feel like I was I was reading Bailey’s book all over again. And I know what you’re going to say: “Well it’s relevant to bring it up because she calls herself a ‘homosexual transsexual’ and it demonstrates that she misrepresents herself.” Gee, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that one before...now where was it?...oh yeah, in Alice Dreger’s ASB article. In fact, Dreger rather promiscuously (no pun intended) uses the cloak of “relevance” to delve into the presumed sexual pasts of [many of the trans women who critiqued Bailey's book]. Do you know wanna know why she did that? Because sexualizing a person invalidates them! This is precisely why defense lawyers ask rape survivors irrelevant questions about their past sexual histories during trials. If you can reduce a person to just their sexual behaviors or their sexual bodies, then you inevitably dehumanize and delegitimize them. Isn’t this the very same reason why most of us abhor Bailey’s book — because it so relentlessly sexualizes trans women (thus delegitimizing us)?
The pinnacle of sexualization in the ______ report is a link to a supposed “cock shot” (plus related dialogue) that had nothing to do with autogynephilia or BBL or anything. What the fuck! I would be pissed if BBL were to include my forays on Craig’s List in one of their “reports”. So why on earth would you do exactly that to ______? There is absolutely no reason to include that passage, except, of course, that 1) sexualizing someone invalidates them, and 2) you want to delegitimize her.
Look, I am not naive, and I can assure you that I have no fantasies about having a “respectable dialogue” about “autogynephilia” after everything that has already gone on. If you wanna call someone a fraud or a troll or a hypocrite or what have you, I am not going to stop you. But when you start sexualizing proponents of “autogynephilia” (and insinuating that they are "autogynephilics") as a way of invalidating them, then you are no better than Bailey and the like. And, as Audre Lorde famously said, "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house."
respectfully yours,
-julia
ok, so the following is a rant that I posted on a trans-themed email list. It is in reference an exposé written by folks within the gender variant community about a proponent of autogynephilia theory who happens to be a trans woman. Now this person has said some messed up things about people I respect, and she is accused of a number of other things which I have heard second hand that, if true, are very disturbing. Having said that, I wrote the following post in response to certain aspects of that exposé that really really bothered me as a trans woman and activist. For anonymity reasons, I have omitted/deleted names of the person in question, as well as those who published the exposé. I ask those who wish to leave comments to respect this anonymity...
Am I the only person offended by this?
I can understand why someone would want to critique what proponents of “autogynephilia” say about that theory. And if a hypothetical individual were to engage in shady behaviors—for example, misrepresenting themselves, inconsistent, distorted or fraudulent writings, edit-warring (as _____ is alleged to have done)—I can understand why someone might want to bring it to other people’s attention. But I am especially appalled by two of the tactics employed against _____ in the above [deleted] link.
The first is the insinuation that _____ isn’t a “real” transsexual (in fact, the very word transsexual is often placed in quotes in reference to her). It is insinuated that she must not be a “real” transsexual because she still has facial hair. I guess that means that I’m not a real transsexual either. In fact, off the top of my head, I can name at least ten dedicated trans women activists I know who (like myself and ______) have not completed electrolysis. You wanna know why? Because it’s fucking expensive! In addition to being classist, that tactic is oppressive. Deeming that some people are “real” transsexuals while other people are not is exactly what the gatekeepers have been doing to us for years.
Second, I am disturbed by the way the report essentially accuses her of being “autogynephilic” (both because she supposedly asked a girl to the prom and because other people supposedly view her as a “tranny chaser”). Reading those passages made me feel like I was I was reading Bailey’s book all over again. And I know what you’re going to say: “Well it’s relevant to bring it up because she calls herself a ‘homosexual transsexual’ and it demonstrates that she misrepresents herself.” Gee, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that one before...now where was it?...oh yeah, in Alice Dreger’s ASB article. In fact, Dreger rather promiscuously (no pun intended) uses the cloak of “relevance” to delve into the presumed sexual pasts of [many of the trans women who critiqued Bailey's book]. Do you know wanna know why she did that? Because sexualizing a person invalidates them! This is precisely why defense lawyers ask rape survivors irrelevant questions about their past sexual histories during trials. If you can reduce a person to just their sexual behaviors or their sexual bodies, then you inevitably dehumanize and delegitimize them. Isn’t this the very same reason why most of us abhor Bailey’s book — because it so relentlessly sexualizes trans women (thus delegitimizing us)?
The pinnacle of sexualization in the ______ report is a link to a supposed “cock shot” (plus related dialogue) that had nothing to do with autogynephilia or BBL or anything. What the fuck! I would be pissed if BBL were to include my forays on Craig’s List in one of their “reports”. So why on earth would you do exactly that to ______? There is absolutely no reason to include that passage, except, of course, that 1) sexualizing someone invalidates them, and 2) you want to delegitimize her.
Look, I am not naive, and I can assure you that I have no fantasies about having a “respectable dialogue” about “autogynephilia” after everything that has already gone on. If you wanna call someone a fraud or a troll or a hypocrite or what have you, I am not going to stop you. But when you start sexualizing proponents of “autogynephilia” (and insinuating that they are "autogynephilics") as a way of invalidating them, then you are no better than Bailey and the like. And, as Audre Lorde famously said, "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house."
respectfully yours,
-julia
If I were teaching a course on intersectionality...
originally posted on LJ 11-29-08
...I would assign this article for my students to deconstruct.
One gets the impression that the SF Weekly felt that transgender women, sex work and “illegal immigration” are not “sexy” enough subjects on their own to spark public outrage. So instead, they decided to sensationalize all three simultaneously. What "edgy" journalism...
I'd post some of the pics that accompany the piece, or quote some of the more racist, transmisogynistic and sexualizing passages therein, but it would just make me mad... -j.
...I would assign this article for my students to deconstruct.
One gets the impression that the SF Weekly felt that transgender women, sex work and “illegal immigration” are not “sexy” enough subjects on their own to spark public outrage. So instead, they decided to sensationalize all three simultaneously. What "edgy" journalism...
I'd post some of the pics that accompany the piece, or quote some of the more racist, transmisogynistic and sexualizing passages therein, but it would just make me mad... -j.
eliminating people's rights
Originally posted in LJ 11-5-08
As of today, I refuse to acknowledge 52% of Californian's rights! I will do so randomly, at my choosing. I have deemed myself the ultimate arbiter of rights! After all, as a California voter, I have a God given right to decide who is entitled to "rights" and who is not.
Thus, by the powers vested in me as a California voter, I declare that:
1) Freedom of religion has been eliminated for all of the Mormons and Catholic who funded the "yes on 8" ads
2) Freedom of speech has been eliminated for anyone who voted for prop 8.
3) And if you fall into class "1" or class "2", then too bad, because I am eliminating your right to marry too. Ha!
special transsexual bonus:
While I'm at it, I refuse to acknowledge the gender identities of anyone who won't acknowledge mine. So watch out Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Jeffreys....
p.s., I know that Ray is Canadian & Sheila is Australian, and thus not under my jurisdiction as a California voter. But I'm feeling really justifiably entitled tonight...
As of today, I refuse to acknowledge 52% of Californian's rights! I will do so randomly, at my choosing. I have deemed myself the ultimate arbiter of rights! After all, as a California voter, I have a God given right to decide who is entitled to "rights" and who is not.
Thus, by the powers vested in me as a California voter, I declare that:
1) Freedom of religion has been eliminated for all of the Mormons and Catholic who funded the "yes on 8" ads
2) Freedom of speech has been eliminated for anyone who voted for prop 8.
3) And if you fall into class "1" or class "2", then too bad, because I am eliminating your right to marry too. Ha!
special transsexual bonus:
While I'm at it, I refuse to acknowledge the gender identities of anyone who won't acknowledge mine. So watch out Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Jeffreys....
p.s., I know that Ray is Canadian & Sheila is Australian, and thus not under my jurisdiction as a California voter. But I'm feeling really justifiably entitled tonight...
Whipping Girl FAQ: "Submissive Streak"
Originally posted on LJ 8-22-08
In this, the third in a line of posts that address some of the more frequently asked questions I’ve received about Whipping Girl (WG), I want to talk about chapter 15: “Submissive Streak.” I’ve found that that’s been the most “polarizing” chapter in the book, in that lots of people have told me it was their favorite chapter, while others have told me that it was the one chapter in the book that they were bothered by or didn’t like.
I think a lot of the issues people have had about the chapter stem from the fact that it is a deeply (and entirely) personal piece within a book where I make a lot of general claims about gender and sexuality. I think that for that reason, people sometimes get the impression that I am speaking *in general* about submissive fantasies, when in reality I am only talking about my own very specific experience. (In retrospect, I probably should have included a disclaimer to that effect along with the piece).
With the piece, it was not my intention to imply that “forced feminization”/submissive sex embodiment fantasies are the only type of submissive fantasy out there. There are countless different types of submissive fantasies and they are experienced by all types of people: male and female, queer and straight, cis and trans. Different people can have very different relationships with their own submissive tendencies. I did not intend “Submissive Streak” to erase or invalidate anyone else’s submissive fantasies, desires or experiences.
The people who tend to like that chapter the most are other trans women who have experienced “forced feminization” or submissive sex embodiment fantasies similar to my own. They have told me that they feel that I captured the role that societal misogyny plays in the development of such fantasies. There is also a lot of bullshit theories forwarded by psychologists about such fantasies, many of which make false presumptions about causation—i.e., they assume these fantasies *cause* crossgender identity, whereas most trans women I know who’ve had such fantasies experience crossgender feelings prior to such fantasies, and come to recognize these fantasies as a coping mechanism for dealing with their own trans feminine gender expression/identity in a world where they are physically male, and where femaleness and femininity are viewed as subordinate and subservient to maleness and masculinity. Many trans women have told me that they have appreciated the way that chapter reclaims or reframes the role and significance of such fantasies in our lives.
When writing the piece, I never meant to imply that all trans women experience “forced feminization” or submissive sex embodiment fantasies, because many don’t. I also personally know some trans women who practice BDSM, but who are Dominants rather than submissives. So there is clearly more than one trajectory that trans individuals might take, and there is not a 100% correlation between transness and submissiveness. Thus, I do not believe that transgender feelings necessarily lead to, or cause, submissive fantasies (nor vice versa).
In WG, I do not go into what causes submissive (or Dominant) fantasies and desires more generally (as opposed to gender identity, gender expression & sexual orientation, where I make the case that many people have natural predispositions/inclinations toward specific gender or sexual identities/practices/experiences). The reason for this is simply because I am simply not sure what the answer is.
I know lots of other BDSM practitioners believe that they were influenced by social forces or specific events that occurred earlier in their lives. For example, I have had more than one cis woman tell me that she believes the rape fantasies she has grew out of the shame she experienced for having strong sexual desires in a world where “good girls” are supposed to be sexually innocent and pure. I’ve heard others have claim that their Dominant or submissive fantasies arose in response to sexual abuse, or parental dynamics, or overcoming a repressive religious upbringing. This is just what people say about their own experiences—I am not implying that any of these claims regarding causation have been “proven” beyond a shadow of a doubt.
At the same time, I have also met BDSM practitioners who have no clue why they have submissive (or Dominant) fantasies or desires. The fact that such desires seem to be inexplicable could point toward some kind of natural predisposition or inclination...I am not sure. The only thing that I think is clear beyond a shadow of doubt is that, like other aspects of gender and sexuality, BDSM fantasies/desires are a complex, heterogeneous phenomenon, and there is a huge amount of variation (both in the desires and in how one conceptualizes their own desires) in the population.
Finally, I have had friends who are not trans women, but who practice BDSM and have submissive fantasies/desires, who were bothered by “Submissive Streak” because they felt that I was conflating shame and submissiveness in a way that they found disempowering, and possibly even pathologizing. First off, I can assure you that I do not have a pathologizing view of BDSM fantasies/desires. For example, I do *not* view BDSM as a psychological problem, as a sign of illness, as an aberrant or abnormal form of sexual expression, as an “erotic target location error,” nor do I believe that BDSM desires require an explanation. I believe that all forms of consensual sexuality can be healthy and beautiful for those involved, including BDSM. The *only* problem with consensual BDSM (in my opinion) is that it is intensely stigmatized in our culture.
Second, I absolutely do *not* feel that my own submissive fantasies are disempowering at all. I feel like I make that case in the last section of the piece where I say this about my submissive streak:
“It’s like a scar I keep hidden up my sleeve, a scar that still sometimes opens up and bleeds. Like a shark bite, it literally tore me apart when it was first happening to me. But these days, my submissive streak is just another reminder of how I survived.”
For me, practicing BDSM and exploring my submissive fantasies can be extraordinarily empowering. It’s about reclaiming aspects of myself that I used to feel ashamed of. For me, overcoming the shame I felt as a young trans child is still an ongoing process—it is the driving force behind both my focus as a trans activist/writer to debunk commonplace cis-centric assumptions about trans people, as well as my erotic desire to sometimes explore my submissive fantasies. This may seem contradictory on the surface, but to me they are both about reclaiming and becoming self-empowered, rather than letting other people’s definitions, expectations and assumptions dictate who I am.
*one final note: “Submissive Streak” was originally written to be a spoken word performance piece, and it predates WG by several years. The piece has two quite disparate influences. The first is Anne Lawrence’s essay “Men Trapped in Men’s Bodies,” which introduced me to the concept of “autogynephilia.” (This was before Bailey’s book came out). I felt that that essay—which tries to provide an explanation for the sex embodiment fantasies many trans women experience—was remarkably incognizant of, and silent about, misogyny and the rampant nonconsensual sexualization of women in our culture, and the role that those phenomena may play in way trans feminine spectrum individuals cope with, and come to conceptualize, our own crossgender desires/feelings. So I wanted to write a piece that *did* address those vital issues, as I felt (and still feel) that these phenomena are the primary cause of my own “forced feminization”/submissive sex embodiment fantasies.
The second influence was a spoken word performance piece by the Suicide Kings (who I got to see all the time in the SF Bay Area poetry slam scene in the early 2000’s). The piece was called “Exit Wounds,” and it was about the ways in which their experiences being abused as children have shaped/influenced their adult sexualities. I would practically be reduced to tears every time I saw them perform it. It resonated with me at such a deep level, despite the fact that (to the best of my knowledge) I was not physically or sexually abused as a child. I realized that for me, what I experienced as a young teen—being filled with shame about my wanting to be female (so much so that sometimes I wished I was dead), and feeling like I couldn’t share my feelings with anyone else—did amount to a form of abuse on some level. It was a form of self-abuse, as I took it all out on myself. While I would never claim to know what it is like to be physically/sexually abused as a child, I did realize that I was a survivor of sorts. And to this day, I still carry those scars around with me...
In this, the third in a line of posts that address some of the more frequently asked questions I’ve received about Whipping Girl (WG), I want to talk about chapter 15: “Submissive Streak.” I’ve found that that’s been the most “polarizing” chapter in the book, in that lots of people have told me it was their favorite chapter, while others have told me that it was the one chapter in the book that they were bothered by or didn’t like.
I think a lot of the issues people have had about the chapter stem from the fact that it is a deeply (and entirely) personal piece within a book where I make a lot of general claims about gender and sexuality. I think that for that reason, people sometimes get the impression that I am speaking *in general* about submissive fantasies, when in reality I am only talking about my own very specific experience. (In retrospect, I probably should have included a disclaimer to that effect along with the piece).
With the piece, it was not my intention to imply that “forced feminization”/submissive sex embodiment fantasies are the only type of submissive fantasy out there. There are countless different types of submissive fantasies and they are experienced by all types of people: male and female, queer and straight, cis and trans. Different people can have very different relationships with their own submissive tendencies. I did not intend “Submissive Streak” to erase or invalidate anyone else’s submissive fantasies, desires or experiences.
The people who tend to like that chapter the most are other trans women who have experienced “forced feminization” or submissive sex embodiment fantasies similar to my own. They have told me that they feel that I captured the role that societal misogyny plays in the development of such fantasies. There is also a lot of bullshit theories forwarded by psychologists about such fantasies, many of which make false presumptions about causation—i.e., they assume these fantasies *cause* crossgender identity, whereas most trans women I know who’ve had such fantasies experience crossgender feelings prior to such fantasies, and come to recognize these fantasies as a coping mechanism for dealing with their own trans feminine gender expression/identity in a world where they are physically male, and where femaleness and femininity are viewed as subordinate and subservient to maleness and masculinity. Many trans women have told me that they have appreciated the way that chapter reclaims or reframes the role and significance of such fantasies in our lives.
When writing the piece, I never meant to imply that all trans women experience “forced feminization” or submissive sex embodiment fantasies, because many don’t. I also personally know some trans women who practice BDSM, but who are Dominants rather than submissives. So there is clearly more than one trajectory that trans individuals might take, and there is not a 100% correlation between transness and submissiveness. Thus, I do not believe that transgender feelings necessarily lead to, or cause, submissive fantasies (nor vice versa).
In WG, I do not go into what causes submissive (or Dominant) fantasies and desires more generally (as opposed to gender identity, gender expression & sexual orientation, where I make the case that many people have natural predispositions/inclinations toward specific gender or sexual identities/practices/experiences). The reason for this is simply because I am simply not sure what the answer is.
I know lots of other BDSM practitioners believe that they were influenced by social forces or specific events that occurred earlier in their lives. For example, I have had more than one cis woman tell me that she believes the rape fantasies she has grew out of the shame she experienced for having strong sexual desires in a world where “good girls” are supposed to be sexually innocent and pure. I’ve heard others have claim that their Dominant or submissive fantasies arose in response to sexual abuse, or parental dynamics, or overcoming a repressive religious upbringing. This is just what people say about their own experiences—I am not implying that any of these claims regarding causation have been “proven” beyond a shadow of a doubt.
At the same time, I have also met BDSM practitioners who have no clue why they have submissive (or Dominant) fantasies or desires. The fact that such desires seem to be inexplicable could point toward some kind of natural predisposition or inclination...I am not sure. The only thing that I think is clear beyond a shadow of doubt is that, like other aspects of gender and sexuality, BDSM fantasies/desires are a complex, heterogeneous phenomenon, and there is a huge amount of variation (both in the desires and in how one conceptualizes their own desires) in the population.
Finally, I have had friends who are not trans women, but who practice BDSM and have submissive fantasies/desires, who were bothered by “Submissive Streak” because they felt that I was conflating shame and submissiveness in a way that they found disempowering, and possibly even pathologizing. First off, I can assure you that I do not have a pathologizing view of BDSM fantasies/desires. For example, I do *not* view BDSM as a psychological problem, as a sign of illness, as an aberrant or abnormal form of sexual expression, as an “erotic target location error,” nor do I believe that BDSM desires require an explanation. I believe that all forms of consensual sexuality can be healthy and beautiful for those involved, including BDSM. The *only* problem with consensual BDSM (in my opinion) is that it is intensely stigmatized in our culture.
Second, I absolutely do *not* feel that my own submissive fantasies are disempowering at all. I feel like I make that case in the last section of the piece where I say this about my submissive streak:
“It’s like a scar I keep hidden up my sleeve, a scar that still sometimes opens up and bleeds. Like a shark bite, it literally tore me apart when it was first happening to me. But these days, my submissive streak is just another reminder of how I survived.”
For me, practicing BDSM and exploring my submissive fantasies can be extraordinarily empowering. It’s about reclaiming aspects of myself that I used to feel ashamed of. For me, overcoming the shame I felt as a young trans child is still an ongoing process—it is the driving force behind both my focus as a trans activist/writer to debunk commonplace cis-centric assumptions about trans people, as well as my erotic desire to sometimes explore my submissive fantasies. This may seem contradictory on the surface, but to me they are both about reclaiming and becoming self-empowered, rather than letting other people’s definitions, expectations and assumptions dictate who I am.
*one final note: “Submissive Streak” was originally written to be a spoken word performance piece, and it predates WG by several years. The piece has two quite disparate influences. The first is Anne Lawrence’s essay “Men Trapped in Men’s Bodies,” which introduced me to the concept of “autogynephilia.” (This was before Bailey’s book came out). I felt that that essay—which tries to provide an explanation for the sex embodiment fantasies many trans women experience—was remarkably incognizant of, and silent about, misogyny and the rampant nonconsensual sexualization of women in our culture, and the role that those phenomena may play in way trans feminine spectrum individuals cope with, and come to conceptualize, our own crossgender desires/feelings. So I wanted to write a piece that *did* address those vital issues, as I felt (and still feel) that these phenomena are the primary cause of my own “forced feminization”/submissive sex embodiment fantasies.
The second influence was a spoken word performance piece by the Suicide Kings (who I got to see all the time in the SF Bay Area poetry slam scene in the early 2000’s). The piece was called “Exit Wounds,” and it was about the ways in which their experiences being abused as children have shaped/influenced their adult sexualities. I would practically be reduced to tears every time I saw them perform it. It resonated with me at such a deep level, despite the fact that (to the best of my knowledge) I was not physically or sexually abused as a child. I realized that for me, what I experienced as a young teen—being filled with shame about my wanting to be female (so much so that sometimes I wished I was dead), and feeling like I couldn’t share my feelings with anyone else—did amount to a form of abuse on some level. It was a form of self-abuse, as I took it all out on myself. While I would never claim to know what it is like to be physically/sexually abused as a child, I did realize that I was a survivor of sorts. And to this day, I still carry those scars around with me...
Fuck me HBO
Originally posted on LJ 7-4-08
OK, so i'm wiped out from packing all day (as i'm about to move), so i pour myself a glass of wine and i'm flicking thru the channels and i stop on an hbo channel that has taxi cab confessions, which i've never seen before. and i'm sure that they've had many episodes about all sorts of different things. but of course the one time i tune in is a scene where a guy is with his trans girlfriend, and he's bragging about how he's straight and not gay, and she's going off about how she doesn't see herself as a woman because she can't bare babies, and the cab driver is asking her about sex change surgeries, and she's sharing with him all of her friends' worst case scenarios, and i just wanna fucking kick the tv in. but i won't, because it's my fucking tv, and i'd end up having to buy a new one.
message to the boyfriend: I agree with you that having a trans girlfriend doesn't make you gay. but you are way too defensive about it. people will mock you because you are too chickenshit to admit what you like and who you are.
message to the trans person: if you identify as a man or as something other than woman or man, i will totally have your back. but when you insinuate that anyone who can't bare children isn't a woman, well then me and my trans sisters and a very significant percentage of the cis female population have a bone to pick with you. and by the way, it's completely fucked for you to share your friend's horrific SRS experiences with some media cab drivin' creep. they will be so fucking pisssed at you...
message to the taxi cab driver. you are a fucking scumbag. not because you are a cab driver but because you are just another media pimp of trans folk. NYC cab drivers pick up *lots* of trans people, but you decide to show us the insecure straight guy with the trans woman who doesn't think she's a woman and who is all to eager to fink on her friend's bad bottom surgery experiences. i'm sure you'll probably win an emmy or some other stupid fucking cis shit award for your groundbreaking "edgy" work...
OK, so i'm wiped out from packing all day (as i'm about to move), so i pour myself a glass of wine and i'm flicking thru the channels and i stop on an hbo channel that has taxi cab confessions, which i've never seen before. and i'm sure that they've had many episodes about all sorts of different things. but of course the one time i tune in is a scene where a guy is with his trans girlfriend, and he's bragging about how he's straight and not gay, and she's going off about how she doesn't see herself as a woman because she can't bare babies, and the cab driver is asking her about sex change surgeries, and she's sharing with him all of her friends' worst case scenarios, and i just wanna fucking kick the tv in. but i won't, because it's my fucking tv, and i'd end up having to buy a new one.
message to the boyfriend: I agree with you that having a trans girlfriend doesn't make you gay. but you are way too defensive about it. people will mock you because you are too chickenshit to admit what you like and who you are.
message to the trans person: if you identify as a man or as something other than woman or man, i will totally have your back. but when you insinuate that anyone who can't bare children isn't a woman, well then me and my trans sisters and a very significant percentage of the cis female population have a bone to pick with you. and by the way, it's completely fucked for you to share your friend's horrific SRS experiences with some media cab drivin' creep. they will be so fucking pisssed at you...
message to the taxi cab driver. you are a fucking scumbag. not because you are a cab driver but because you are just another media pimp of trans folk. NYC cab drivers pick up *lots* of trans people, but you decide to show us the insecure straight guy with the trans woman who doesn't think she's a woman and who is all to eager to fink on her friend's bad bottom surgery experiences. i'm sure you'll probably win an emmy or some other stupid fucking cis shit award for your groundbreaking "edgy" work...
BAR piece on Zucker, Blanchard & DSM workgroup
originally posted on LJ 6-1-08
So I'm sure that most of the folks who check out my blog are aware of the recent appointments of Ken Zucker & Ray Blanchard (among others) to the DSM working group that will hash out new gender/sexuality related "mental disorders" for the DSM. I have written at great length about some of the major problems with Blanchard's views of trans women and others on the trans feminine spectrum. Needless to say, I was not happy with their appointments.
An article recently came out in the Bay Area Reporter on the issue (full disclaimer: I am quoted in it) which went into great detail about the obstacles these appointments pose for trans activists. It also discussed some of the more over-the-top reactions it generated within the trans community, which included fears that the APA would put homosexuality back into the DSM or that Ken Zucker would advocate reparative therapy for young trans children in it (the DSM doesn't include therapies, only diagnoses).
What follows is a slightly edited post that I wrote for one trans-themed email group I was on in response to the negative reaction the article garnered (which included cries that the article was pro-Zucker propaganda). Let me state for the record that not all people on the list hold such views, nor am I accusing members on that list of being responsible for the aforementioned community reaction. The reason why I posted it there, and the reason why I am now including it in this blog, is to try to move some of the highly polarizing rhetoric within the community on this matter.
I was just as upset about Zucker's appointment, and especially Blanchard's, but there are many different paths that we can go down from here. And frankly, it pisses me off that some in the community will accuse other trans people of "identifying with the oppressor" or being victims of "Stockholm Syndrome" simply because they do not take a hardline depathologizing approach or because they feel that modest reform is the best we can hope for at this point. There are almost as many views on this matter as there are trans activists and advocates. For any of us to act as though we speak for the entire community, or to accuse people who don't 100% agree with us as being "the enemy" is highly arrogant, entitled and counterproductive...
anyway, here's that post:
hi folks,
i've been reading some of the posts about the BAR article here and I honestly have to say that I'm dumbfounded that some people thought that the article was *supportive* of Zucker. The 2nd paragraph in this LGBT paper said his work is hailed by ex-gay groups. That sets a tone that is carried throughout: his work is dubious. There are plenty of critiques of his work, there are trans activists quoted as equating GID with Persecuted Minority Syndrome, etc. Granted, the article contains quotes from him and the APA in defense, but this is a given considering that it's a newspaper article. If they didn't ask those folks for their take, BAR would be accused of bias.
And the point about the internet response, well, to be honest, I agree with the article’s take on that. All of the talk about putting homosexuality back in the DSM did make us seem like extremists and Zucker & the APA seem reasonable. Anyone whose done activism before can tell you that there are always at least two “fronts” one has to contend with in changing the system: one must confront the people/issue at the heart of the problem – in this case, the APA, DSM workgroup & the gatekeeper system more generally. But one also has to win over allies in the uninformed public. If we say unreasonable things (such as Zucker plans to put homosexuality back into the DSM – which some people are saying), the public will think we’re a little crazy and that Zucker and others are reasonable. That doesn’t bode well for us in convincing the public at large that we’re right and they are wrong. And without winning over allies outside of the immediate trans community, we may not be able to put the pressure we need to put on the APA in order to make them change their ways.
I also thought the article captured something that I see in my own community but which many people on this list seem to ignore: There is *huge* disagreement among trans people regarding what to do about GID. This list (at this point) seems to be made up of hardline de-pathologizers. While I agree with a lot of the sentiments expressed here, I can also tell you that there are *many* trans people out there who don’t want GID removed from the DSM, both because it currently allows one to access the means to physical transition, and because in a world where gender variance is still heavily stigmatized, being seen as having a “condition” does give one some legitimacy. For example, when I transitioned at work, I gave my boss a letter from my therapist saying that I had GID and that I was transitioning in order to correct that condition. My boss was very understanding. Had I just shown up to work one day without a letter, but wearing women’s clothing and asking people to call me Julie, I don’t think he’d be nearly as understanding. While I don’t like that fact, it is the truth of the matter.
It seems to me that the community at large is united about two things: 1) Zucker, Blanchard & others have dubious views/theories/methods that do real harm to trans people, and 2) we all would like to see transness depathologized without jeopardizing the legitimacy of our gender identities and our access to transition. But there is a great amount of disagreement within our community as to what is the best way to accomplish goal number two. That is where I think we need to be focusing our efforts.
The reason why I stopped participating in this email group is because almost all of the threads are about trashing Zucker & Blanchard & CAMH & Northwestern, etc. Anyone who knows my writings knows that I am strongly against these people’s views/theories/methods. While I can appreciate people wanting to vent about them (something I often do on my own), I honestly think that it distracts us from reaching any kind of consensus about how to get from point A to point B.
I also think that any attempt to flat out depathologize GID will fail unless an alternative system of some sort is established to ensure both our legal and physical transitions. Maybe that alternative system is a reformed GID diagnosis, or maybe it’s a medical (but not mental) diagnosis. Or maybe it involves working with caregivers and legal experts to ensure that gender variance will be recognized and transitioning allowed without any kind of formal diagnosis. I’m honestly not sure. But what I do know is that if we don’t ensure these things, we will find that a large percentage of trans folks will fight any attempt to remove GID from the DSM. These are the discussions we really need to be having now, rather than getting bogged down in debating whether or not it is fair to compare Zucker to Nazis or not....
-julia
So I'm sure that most of the folks who check out my blog are aware of the recent appointments of Ken Zucker & Ray Blanchard (among others) to the DSM working group that will hash out new gender/sexuality related "mental disorders" for the DSM. I have written at great length about some of the major problems with Blanchard's views of trans women and others on the trans feminine spectrum. Needless to say, I was not happy with their appointments.
An article recently came out in the Bay Area Reporter on the issue (full disclaimer: I am quoted in it) which went into great detail about the obstacles these appointments pose for trans activists. It also discussed some of the more over-the-top reactions it generated within the trans community, which included fears that the APA would put homosexuality back into the DSM or that Ken Zucker would advocate reparative therapy for young trans children in it (the DSM doesn't include therapies, only diagnoses).
What follows is a slightly edited post that I wrote for one trans-themed email group I was on in response to the negative reaction the article garnered (which included cries that the article was pro-Zucker propaganda). Let me state for the record that not all people on the list hold such views, nor am I accusing members on that list of being responsible for the aforementioned community reaction. The reason why I posted it there, and the reason why I am now including it in this blog, is to try to move some of the highly polarizing rhetoric within the community on this matter.
I was just as upset about Zucker's appointment, and especially Blanchard's, but there are many different paths that we can go down from here. And frankly, it pisses me off that some in the community will accuse other trans people of "identifying with the oppressor" or being victims of "Stockholm Syndrome" simply because they do not take a hardline depathologizing approach or because they feel that modest reform is the best we can hope for at this point. There are almost as many views on this matter as there are trans activists and advocates. For any of us to act as though we speak for the entire community, or to accuse people who don't 100% agree with us as being "the enemy" is highly arrogant, entitled and counterproductive...
anyway, here's that post:
hi folks,
i've been reading some of the posts about the BAR article here and I honestly have to say that I'm dumbfounded that some people thought that the article was *supportive* of Zucker. The 2nd paragraph in this LGBT paper said his work is hailed by ex-gay groups. That sets a tone that is carried throughout: his work is dubious. There are plenty of critiques of his work, there are trans activists quoted as equating GID with Persecuted Minority Syndrome, etc. Granted, the article contains quotes from him and the APA in defense, but this is a given considering that it's a newspaper article. If they didn't ask those folks for their take, BAR would be accused of bias.
And the point about the internet response, well, to be honest, I agree with the article’s take on that. All of the talk about putting homosexuality back in the DSM did make us seem like extremists and Zucker & the APA seem reasonable. Anyone whose done activism before can tell you that there are always at least two “fronts” one has to contend with in changing the system: one must confront the people/issue at the heart of the problem – in this case, the APA, DSM workgroup & the gatekeeper system more generally. But one also has to win over allies in the uninformed public. If we say unreasonable things (such as Zucker plans to put homosexuality back into the DSM – which some people are saying), the public will think we’re a little crazy and that Zucker and others are reasonable. That doesn’t bode well for us in convincing the public at large that we’re right and they are wrong. And without winning over allies outside of the immediate trans community, we may not be able to put the pressure we need to put on the APA in order to make them change their ways.
I also thought the article captured something that I see in my own community but which many people on this list seem to ignore: There is *huge* disagreement among trans people regarding what to do about GID. This list (at this point) seems to be made up of hardline de-pathologizers. While I agree with a lot of the sentiments expressed here, I can also tell you that there are *many* trans people out there who don’t want GID removed from the DSM, both because it currently allows one to access the means to physical transition, and because in a world where gender variance is still heavily stigmatized, being seen as having a “condition” does give one some legitimacy. For example, when I transitioned at work, I gave my boss a letter from my therapist saying that I had GID and that I was transitioning in order to correct that condition. My boss was very understanding. Had I just shown up to work one day without a letter, but wearing women’s clothing and asking people to call me Julie, I don’t think he’d be nearly as understanding. While I don’t like that fact, it is the truth of the matter.
It seems to me that the community at large is united about two things: 1) Zucker, Blanchard & others have dubious views/theories/methods that do real harm to trans people, and 2) we all would like to see transness depathologized without jeopardizing the legitimacy of our gender identities and our access to transition. But there is a great amount of disagreement within our community as to what is the best way to accomplish goal number two. That is where I think we need to be focusing our efforts.
The reason why I stopped participating in this email group is because almost all of the threads are about trashing Zucker & Blanchard & CAMH & Northwestern, etc. Anyone who knows my writings knows that I am strongly against these people’s views/theories/methods. While I can appreciate people wanting to vent about them (something I often do on my own), I honestly think that it distracts us from reaching any kind of consensus about how to get from point A to point B.
I also think that any attempt to flat out depathologize GID will fail unless an alternative system of some sort is established to ensure both our legal and physical transitions. Maybe that alternative system is a reformed GID diagnosis, or maybe it’s a medical (but not mental) diagnosis. Or maybe it involves working with caregivers and legal experts to ensure that gender variance will be recognized and transitioning allowed without any kind of formal diagnosis. I’m honestly not sure. But what I do know is that if we don’t ensure these things, we will find that a large percentage of trans folks will fight any attempt to remove GID from the DSM. These are the discussions we really need to be having now, rather than getting bogged down in debating whether or not it is fair to compare Zucker to Nazis or not....
-julia
more Bailey/Dreger stuff...
Originally posted on LJ 3-7-08
Hi everyone,
For those interested, I wrote a column that was just posted on Feministing.com that discusses a few recent developments regarding Alice Dreger’s “scholarly history” of the Bailey affair.
Also, I am happy to say that my “peer commentary” on Dreger’s article was accepted for publication, giving me the surreal experience of being able to say that I have a paper coming out in a sexology journal. Anyway, you can download a PDF version of my commentary here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/Serano_DregerCommentary.pdf
I also recorded a somewhat long-ish podcast where I talk in detail about all of the problematic aspects of Dreger’s paper (there were too many to fit into my commentary). If you’re interested, that can be found here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/EvenMoreDregerCritiquing.mp3
enjoy...
-julia
Hi everyone,
For those interested, I wrote a column that was just posted on Feministing.com that discusses a few recent developments regarding Alice Dreger’s “scholarly history” of the Bailey affair.
Also, I am happy to say that my “peer commentary” on Dreger’s article was accepted for publication, giving me the surreal experience of being able to say that I have a paper coming out in a sexology journal. Anyway, you can download a PDF version of my commentary here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/Serano_Dre
I also recorded a somewhat long-ish podcast where I talk in detail about all of the problematic aspects of Dreger’s paper (there were too many to fit into my commentary). If you’re interested, that can be found here:
http://www.juliaserano.com/av/EvenMoreDr
enjoy...
-julia
Hate Mail
Originally posted on LJ 2-27-08
So I sometimes receive disturbing emails. Sometimes they're from someone who fiercely disagrees with something I've said in my book or that I've posted on the web somewhere, and they're really mad about it. Sometimes it's a creepy webstalker who's particularly interested in/obsessed with transsexual women. But I don't receive a lot of actual hate mail. But occasionally I do. And here's one I received yesterday:
I read your article November 19, 2007
So I sometimes receive disturbing emails. Sometimes they're from someone who fiercely disagrees with something I've said in my book or that I've posted on the web somewhere, and they're really mad about it. Sometimes it's a creepy webstalker who's particularly interested in/obsessed with transsexual women. But I don't receive a lot of actual hate mail. But occasionally I do. And here's one I received yesterday:
| Tue, 26 Feb 2008 23:46:43 -0800 (PST) | |
| From: | |
| Subject: | justifiable homicide |
| To: | hi@juliaserano.com |
|
and find it appalling that you can blame the victim of deception.
"In reality, it is they who are guilty of cissexual/cisgender assumption (when one presumes that every person they meet is nontrans by default). Trans people simply exist, we are everywhere, and the rest of the world has to start recognizing and accepting that."
I don't know what planet you are living on but people have the right to be respected and not be deceived. The victim of deception is a victim not guilty of your so called - gender assumption. If sexual deception is not a crime then its high time that lawmakers make it a crime. And victims have a right to defend themselves. I do believe this sort of sickening deception is justifiable homicide. If a rape victim murders her rapist - its justifiable homicide. If a man goes into rage and murder's a deceitful transgendered person - its justifiable homicide. Rage is not a phobia.
Common sense and simple respect dictates that transgendered people must disclose their true sex before engaging in the business of deception. This will no doubt prevent the needless loss of life. Transgendered men want to believe they are women but they have the same XY chromosomes like any other man. No doctor in the world can change that.
The end result of your foolish and sickening reasoning is that more transgendered people will end up in body bags.
Save lives - Get your twisted and demented minds untwisted
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