On Friday I went to a half-ironic toga party (in plainclothes) with a certain number of ordinary-bro types in attendance, and they not only read me as male but danced on me really hard. And I mean really. I always like going to parties where I don't know anyone and dancing like a maniac. Who needs beer? Which isn't to say that I didn't get semi-wild, but not nearly as wild as I could have, and the dancing was truly the focus.
I had the interesting experience, at that same party, of outing myself as queer but not trans. I was talking to a nice amiable straight dude I'd just met who was complaining about girl troubles, and I started some sentence, "Well, I'm mostly gay, but..." I'm pretty used to the track a conversation typically derails onto when I mention I'm trans ("OMG surgery/parents/childhood/sex life/i have this trans friend/rupaul's drag race/i wouldn't have guessed!!!!!11!1), but the "I'm a queer (implicitly cisgendered) dude" track was new. First he asked me how I knew I was gay, which was easy enough, but then he proceeded to tell me all about sexually experimenting with boys as a freshman, which was both hilarious and titillating. Moral of the story: it was novel to be a different sort of novelty.
It's strange and amazing to be at the point where my appearance doesn't automatically out me as trans. And, now that it's not a given that my gender is up for grabs, I find myself being a little stingier with it. I'm becoming of the mind that my gender (and my gender history) is more or less my business (I say as I write on the internet), and that if I'm going to be outed I should be the one doing the outing.
I'm not totally sure how I feel about this impulse. Before I began to pass in a steady way, I assumed I'd want to be out and proud, as it were, as trans forever, both because it feels (or felt) like a big part of who I am, and for the political reasons of visibility and making breeders uncomfortable. It's not like I would ever be in the closet about being queer, or insist that I be the sole arbiter and teller of that information. How weird would it be if I told one of my friends, "Hey man, don't tell anyone that I'm gay." Real weird.
But then, as we all know, gender identity and sexual orientation are different beasts, and the ways people react to the revelation of each are beastly in different ways and to different degrees. When someone outs me as trans--and not in all situations, but in certain ones--it puts me in a lousy othered position. But is resisting this othering shitty in its own way? Am I just lapping desperately from the fountain of male privilege now that I've gotten a taste of its Keystone-flavored ambrosia? Maybe a little bit. I'm still struggling with this. What are your thoughts? Is my being stealthy about my gender a matter of self-preservation and autonomy, or is it the wimpy way out of the capital-S-Struggle? Am I just catering to a transphobic society that negates my humanness when I keep my mouth shut, or am I merely being choosy and keeping myself safe?
8 comments:
I actually just read this the other day and was thinking about that very topic:
http://www.feministe.us/blog/archives/2010/06/28/you-dont-get-to-out-me/
There are some good points in there, and the safety issue is a big one. While I'm incredibly lucky to be pretty damn safe in Eugene, there can always be a stray violent bigot lurking. And not that I'd like to live in fear of stray violent bigots, but it's a concern.
WUSTY!
While I can see the appeal of sticking it to The Man and his giant heteronormative phallus by performing radical queerness all day every day, I also know that it can be really exhausting to be the Other at the Party--and, as others have noted, it can sometimes also be unsafe. I think you should go with whatever feels best to you at the time. And, I think you made the right choice at the party: after all, to dance with the wild bro-dawgs while wearing their Axe-scented skin is one of life's rarest pleasures!
You know that, all too typically, I could pose an answer based on all that queer theory and shit, but your new layout is far more interesting, mesmerizing, beautiful, etc. to me at this moment...sorry.
puss puss.
I think you're more than just this one thing, and it's unfair to all the other things you are when you're put in the position of just wearing the trans hat in a social situation. There's a lot of other aspects to Russell, and you can't fault yourself for occasionally wanting to accentuate or flaunt those instead.
And I agree with what's been said -- it's really appealing to stick it to the man, and say "fuck you" and fight even the most casual aspects of a homophobic and transphobic society, really be the trailblazer and the hero, but [and not to oversimplify] even Superman puts on the glasses and is just Clark Kent some days. And unlike the fictional Mr. Kent, you're not even hiding the fact you're Big Blue - if it comes up, you'll own it like a pro. But if it doesn't, it's totally okay to exercise those other parts of who you are.
Bri-Pi: Can we please write a Noël Coward-esque play called "The Other At The Party"?
Ben: I've been thinking about this question in terms of that coming-out-as-artifact paper you wrote, but more importantly I'm glad to see that Las Vegas has driven you to take refuge in internet social networking with such uncharacteristic gusto.
Randall: I'm incredibly touched by the Superman comparison, and will from now on refer to my transness as "Big Blue."
Rusty: I know, I know. It's so uncharacteristic and "sellout-ish", I feel, but what is one to do when it's 120F outside? Also, my job involves selling rolling papers to juggalettes (seriously). Can you blame me?
BeLT: No, I can't.
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