Originally a comment by Seth on We need to talk.
I think Ian Cromwell (www.crommunist.com, formerly of this very blogging nexus) has made some very cogent analyses of race that can, mutatis mutandis, be appropriated to gender analysis with respect to gender identity and gender expression. To paraphrase Ian, race is a social construct, and as such is equal parts ‘how one sees oneself’ and ‘how one is seen by everyone else’. (There is more involved, to be sure, but Ian’s archives are free for the perusal of the curious.)
Similarly, I think gender can be described as a confluence of ‘how one sees oneself’ and ‘how one is seen by everyone else’. Ophelia, MrFancyPants, and I are more-or-less comfortable with the gross dynamics of how we’re seen by ‘everyone else’ in regards to our genders, though indeed we all have some very strong disagreements of the specific assumptions that come along with that assignation. None of the three of us particularly identify with being men or women very strongly, in the same way that Ophelia and I don’t particularly identify with being white people. We understand that that is how we fall under the social classification system, we acknowledge it, and we don’t feel misidentified when other people look at us and say ‘Oh, there goes a [woman/man/white person]’. (Of course I’m being a bit presumptive, but I think it’s a fairly safe presumption, given my familiarity with Ophelia’s archive; I’m open to correction.)
Indeed, this is the very definition of what it means to be cisgender: when society (aka ‘everyone else’) looks at us and shoves us into a box, we do not grumble about the label on the lid of the box. We don’t feel a fundamental wrongness with the overall shape of the box. We could take or leave it, really. For many people like us (and, indeed, for the three specific people I’ve named here, including myself), we might disagree with the colour of the box, or with some of the other items that get shoved into the box along with us that we’re expected to contort ourselves to accommodate, but the box itself isn’t the issue.
For transgender people, however, the box is very much the issue. When they get shoved into their box, they cannot recognise the shape that it contorts them into. Or, more analytically and less analogously, their self-identification does not match with how ‘everyone else’ identifies them. And, when you know that EVERYONE ELSE is wrong about you in such a fundamental way, when you feel it in the marrow of your bones, it is very, very tempting to build up mental systems wherein your own perception of yourself is the only valid and acceptable perception. The seeming alternative is self-invalidation and self-alienation, wherein you try to conform to the society’s identification of you instead of the truth you know about yourself…and I don’t need to spell out how that tends to work out, I hope.
Currently, some transgender people are staking the claim that their own perception is the only one that should matter in the social construct of gender. To descend into analogy again, they are climbing out of the boxes that other people have shoved them into and are crawling into boxes that they feel more comfortable in. The more comfortable boxes are very important to their self-identity, and their broader mental and emotional health.
One of the goals of modern feminist critique, as I understand (and attempt, in my own inept way, to practice) it, is to liberate everyone from the necessity for the (gendered) boxes entirely. To build a world in which the only relevant box is ‘human’ or even, perhaps, ‘sentient creature’, into which more-or-less everyone should be able to find a corner that fits them well without causing anyone else harm. A world in which people are ‘just folks’, where there isn’t a such thing as ‘people’ as opposed to ‘female people’. The more proximate goal is to make all of the individual boxes more accommodating, looser, so that each person in their own box has freedom to shift around without being packed so tightly by all of the objects (read: gendered expectations) that are also shoved into the box with them. To someone with such goals, the fact that someone else wants to crawl into a box, with all its constricting objects, can be somewhat incomprehensible.
Contrariwise, to someone who’s spent their whole life railing against the confines of their box, it can feel like any criticism of their decision to find a more personally-accommodating box is the same as saying ‘Your ill-fitting box shouldn’t bother you so much! In fact, you should stay in it and make it fit you better, and help all of us eventually destroy the boxes!’ Even if that isn’t what the critic is implying, or even intending to imply. Even worse is the all-too-frequent ‘You aren’t even in the box you think you’re in; you’ve just redecorated your own box, badly, into a parody of what our box is supposed to look like.’
After enough time having to battle those kinds of perceptions, of having your own self-identification invalidated by (almost) everybody, it is not surprising that so many transgender people are not only claiming the fact of their boxes, but championing them, and using what few means are at their disposal to try and reframe the narrative to support their self-identification. At the same time, this seems like an invalidation of literally centuries of work that have gone into deconstructing gender roles.
The boxes need to be destroyed, but that is going to take a lot of hard, long, slogging work. In the doing of that work, we cannot lose sight of the fact that the boxes still exist, and must be made as comfortable as possible for as long as that’s true. I hope there is a way to unite the seemingly-disparate goals of gender critique and transgender activism. Both goals are worthy, and necessary, and I firmly believe the conflicts within them are mainly topical and surmountable.
Trans people are people. One day, “people” will have to be enough for the lot of us. Until then, though, we’ve got a lot of work to do.
One of the goals of modern feminist critique, as I understand (and attempt, in my own inept way, to practice) it, is to liberate everyone from the necessity for the (gendered) boxes entirely. To build a world in which the only relevant box is ‘human’ or even, perhaps, ‘sentient creature’, into which more-or-less everyone should be able to find a corner that fits them well without causing anyone else harm. A world in which people are ‘just folks’, where there isn’t a such thing as ‘people’ as opposed to ‘female people’.
And again. For what?
Seth makes an analogy to race. I think this sounds like the gender version of colorblind ideology. It sounds like a story we tell ourselves in moments when we truly can’t imagine a world in which varying gender expressions are all actually recognized, valued and celebrated. “People” should be enough for the lot of us? Why?
If you tell me you actually can’t tell or don’t care that I am a woman, all you’re telling me is that you are unable to fully see me for who I am. Femaleness isn’t a burden that I carry around or a mask I’m dying to strip off. It’s not an obstacle to me being “just folks”, it’s part of who I am.
I happen to also be an immigrant and I am similarly unenthused when I’m told “Oh, I always forget you’re not from here” – “oh, you’re just folks to me.” That’s not a compliment, it just means the person doesn’t know me and probably doesn’t care to. History and identity are actually important. Justice, friendship, a meaningful collaboration, a good bullshit session… they all start with recognition of the people around us.
A most lofty and admirable idea that we all ought to work towards diligently in order for a better tomorrow.
An idea, which – the ground reality says – cannot be implemented yet. Why? Because the currently-existing foundation is not egalitarian; we haven’t yet achieved any semblance of that equality without which it is well nigh impossible to break open the boxes.
In a world which still denies trans* people their basic humanity, merely saying “trans people are people” is akin to saying “All Lives Matter” whenever one sees “Black Lives Matter”, or the much-derided “I don’t see color”. The issue doesn’t submit itself to a single comfortable and convenient solution. But we can all start by acknowledging that human beings are diverse and celebrating that diversity.
Let me quote social psychologist Zoé S: “What makes a woman. Do you identify as a woman? Do you feel like you are a woman? Is womanhood something you embody? Then you’re a woman.“
Yes, I get the same vibe as xyz. There are certainly situations–hiring practices, for example–where race and gender differences should not be considered. But in general, differences shouldn’t be completely ignored any more than they should be used as a basis for discrimination.
I hate my box, I don’t think changing boxes would help, and I certainly don’t think cosmetic surgery to make my body fit a box would help. In the last several days, an acquaintance has spent several screens explaining how expressing this puts me squarely in TERF territory and thus it’s my fault if people say I am one. I am so tired of living in a world of boxes.
Ultimately, I think we need to separate gender the externally imposed standards and labels from the sense of whether our body has the right parts, and the latter needs a different name. We are less than 4 generations away from the time when physical body configuration determined most of the boundaries of one’s life roles. It’s not much of a surprise that we lack the vocabulary to explore these issues, but dismissing some opinions as TERF and therefore not to be discussed within feminism is not getting us anywhere.
Whoa! I promise I am not a sockpuppet for ‘xyz’ LOL! 😀 😀
I don’t know who “xyz” is… but their thoughts appear to reflect mine almost exactly. I wish I had refreshed the page before commenting.
But there’s a difference between saying “Oh I don’t see color / gender / immigration status / sexual orientation / whatever now” and saying that maybe some day such categories could loom less large, but we’re nowhere near there yet.
And this –
Fine, but for me for instance it’s not that simple. Sometimes it is a burden – especially when people are attacking me for it. But much more, most of the time it just isn’t relevant – it’s way in the background. Other things are much much more salient for who I am.
In short, there’s variety.
Right, and all women absolutely have a right to be part of that variety without a ton of scrutiny and critique for it, in my eyes. Not all feminists share the same goals or tactics. Trans feminists shouldn’t be expected to toe a party line on gender expression. There’s not a party line. There’s diversity and disagreement.
Without a ton of scrutiny and critique, maybe, but not without discussion. Is that fair?
Well gee, I really think it depends on the discussion. Large parts of this ongoing one don’t seem fair to me. I’m sure part of this is simply a stylistic mismatch. But it’s disturbing to me when trans women are expected to just bear the weight of cis women trying to hash out our gender issues.
There are so many other things going on here. Survival. Solidarity. Empathy. To me those are the keys… not making sure everyone is on the same page theoretically. Imagine one person saying, “I’m just trying to breathe here” and receiving the answer, “But what does that mean for ME?”
Ok, I’ve imagined it. That would be repulsive.
So what are you saying? That I should stop talking about this altogether because you’re just trying to breathe here? That I’m preventing you from being able to breathe?
Idk. I think that’s how this type of debate can seem to those for whom it’s less “sometimes I feel uncomfortable as a woman in this society” and more “if I don’t fit in, I have to fear potentially deadly violence.”
But speaking of stylistic differences. A constant stream of posts is too much for me this evening.
Ok, but that’s basically another Dear Muslima…unless you mean you think this kind of post actually contributes to ideas that contribute to the violence.
I apologize for the constant stream of posts, but it’s what I do.
There’s not a clear line between one person saying “I value my gender as an important part of me,” and the larger society that is saying “gender is an important part of being a person.” That person’s freedom to exist is paramount, but the societal-level expression that gender is important feels very oppressive to me. So there is a tension. I don’t see how we can be expected to stand by silently while an entire society of individuals collectively embrace and continue a system that is oppressive.
Trans people can be gender abolitionists too. It’s not common, because so much of the rhetoric of gender abolitionism has been taken over by people opposed to their/our existence (I’m nonbinary; whether I count as trans is up for debate). But there’s no reason to think that dysphoria couldn’t still exist, and be treated, in a post-gender society. There just wouldn’t be the assumption that having/desiring a penis makes you male. Gender abolition is actually very important to me, but that doesn’t mean I can pretend that it doesn’t exist right now. Gender is, right now, very real, oppressive, pervasive, and powerful. People who aren’t cis don’t challenge this, we affirm it.
Discussion is vital, Ophelia, for all of us as a society to learn from and grow.
As you know – I have appreciated your bringing the focus of discussion on one important aspect of Caitlyn Jenner’s transition – the media publicity and the inevitably sexist spotlight on Jenner focusing on her appearance and physical beauty, rather than celebrating her humanity. Your cogent arguments in that direction have now been corroborated by many other activists for social justice and commentators, Laverne Cox, and Zinnia Jones amongst them.
However, perhaps even discussion has/ought to have a modicum of limits/restraint? To quote Zoé S. (again): The legitimacy of a person’s gender identity and expression should never be the topic of discussion. EVER. I largely echo that sentiment, because I feel it’s morally right.
My comment here, in this thread, was not directed at your arguments – but rather towards the content of the OP, by Seth, which I find a tad specious (because of the reasons I mentioned). One aspect where you and I have differed definitively is the interpretation of Elinor Burkett’s NYT piece. Surely that is fine? To disagree with each other on one particular idea?
Kausik, yes, of course.
This strikes me as a strange argument. Taking into consideration how our actions affect others who are oppressed and struggling, listening to their concerns and taking them into account, is pretty much the definition of solidarity.
There was a great interview by Chris Hayes of Brittney Cooper several months ago, at the time the hidden-camera street harassment video went viral. I think he expected Cooper to basically side with those arguing that the video contributed to racial bias, if inadvertently, and leave it at that. Instead, she recognized the validity of that argument (and expanded it: the reception of the video also tended to sideline the vulnerability of black girls and women to street harassment); but then went on to suggest that black men, rather than focusing on this exclusively, could find their solidarity with women by seeing the problem within a shared framework of wanting to occupy public space and not be harassed – in their case, by police, in women’s, by men. It wasn’t a rhetorical game, but an accurate framing of the problems that could allow people to see their struggles in common terms rather than being set against each other.
It seems to me that this shared frame for solidarity has been missing from the current discussions, but it certainly exists. I’ve been arguing for a while that we can look at these struggles in terms of freedom, specifically freedom of self-definition and self-determination. The existential freedom to craft our identity and our own path rather than being chained to a false essence. The claim to that freedom unites all struggles for liberation, and those who oppose it with essentialist arguments, be they feminists, trans activists, or those hostile to these movements, are opposing liberation.
By the way, I think Lady Mondegreen’s suggestion on the other thread about asking some trans people who want to have a real discussion to write some posts was a good one. I think there are people who for whatever reason want to divide and sow hostility between our groups and movements, but that our goals are actually the same and we can better realize that through dialogue that focuses on what unites us rather than divides us. (And, in purely selfish terms, I’m sure I could learn a lot from it.)
It certainly is. And it’s quite a manipulative misrepresentation of reality, as one in which the concerns of feminists are (or can be reduced to) occasional discomfort while trans people all live in imminent fear of lethal violence, and in which feminists are only concerned with their own personal situation rather than the oppression of and violence against women around the world.
That’s been on my mind so much lately. Whither solidarity? It is missing and its lack is a sore spot. Not blaming or assigning responsibility to anyone; I don’t know how to get there. But we do need to get there. It saddens me how many people don’t seem to even notice that solidarity is missing, and don’t seem to even consider that it’s possible and desirable.
Seems like nothing kills solidarity faster than insistence on establishing a hierarchy of legitimacy.
Suggestion: let’s move the discussion here: https://proxy.freethought.online/butterfliesandwheels/2015/06/we-see-that-trans-people-express-their-gender-in-diverse-ways/
I think the history discussed in Zinnia’s post goes a long way to show how we got here and why this discussion can be so raw for trans women.