Saturday, October 11, 2008

Why the T in LGBTQ Is Here to Stay

Readings
Our first class reading will focus on Susan Stryker's groundbreaking essay "My Words To Victor Frankenstein Above the Village of Chamounix -- Performing Transgender Rage." Please complete the reading before coming to our first class meeting.

John Aravosis “How did the T get in LGBT?”(Salon.com)



16 comments:

Lily said...

I thought the "How did the T get in LGBT" article brought up some legitimate concerns that faced/faces members of the queer community. The connection between one's gender and one's sexual preference, and even sexuality, is, I find, often challenging to see. Aravosis proposes that the "trans revolution was imposed on the gay community from the outside" which is something I hadn't thought about or recognized before. At the same time, it is contentious to suggest an imposition opposed to a similarity of political ideology for social justice. It's easy, in my mind, to compare the ENDA debate to the exclusion of black women in the Suffragists Movement. At that point in time, seeing black women as someone how vastly different seems absurd, but it was also seemingly essential for white women to make political strides first. Theres this delicate balance between what is socially just and playing off what Congress might or might not pass. In the future, will the LGB community regret its' isolation of the trans community (using ENDA as an example of that)? It seems that there needs to be a lot of open and honest discussion about why these two communities even belong within the same socio-political arena or share a personal identity, or maybe an understanding about why they don't.

The Brown Sensorium said...

Thanks, Lily. We'll have a chance to dig deeper into Aravosis' Trans fear, and we'll do so by conjuring Susan Stryker's response in a related piece.

Ashley M said...

I found Susan Stryker's article really interesting but the journal entry about Kim's delivery really resonated with me. I'm on a path towards midwifery and think about birth a lot. I didn't realize how silly announcing a child's gender at birth is as well as the effects of this until hearing Stryker's response to hearing that the child is a girl. How can anyone know how that child will identify as they grow older? Why does society need to place each child into one of 2 genders based on physical genitalia from the moment they enter this world? I know that a midwifery attended birth allows the parents lots of flexibility with naming their child. I know of one case in particular where the parents didn't name their child for a month after her birth. Picking a name is a hard decision because the parents want their child's name to say something about them. The same is true with gender. I wonder if gender must be determined immediately at a midwife attended birth. I'm guessing that name and gender are much more rigid in a hospital setting where it's all about control. The obstetrician decides when to push drugs, when a labor has lasted too long, and when to perform the major surgery of a c-section. By giving parents little to no say in these decisions, obstetricians must leave little else for the parents to decide.
In my ideal future, I'll become a midwife who works with Hispanic lesbian and transgendered couples and after reading this article, I won't announce the gender. I'll leave that interesting decision up to the parents.

sarah said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
sarah said...

I think your comparison of the exclusion trans folks from ENDA to the exlusion of Black women from the Suffragist movement is interesting, Lily, but I don't think of this exclusion as having been essential for white women. I do think that it became really impactful in long-lasting ways: the mainstream feminist movements of the seventies were white women's movements, excluding women of color and their concerns from the agenda, and white women continue to work for what they/we call "women's rights" in exclusive ways.
Similarly (though I think there are historical differences and I don't claim to know a lot about either historical event/movement), I think that exclusion of trans rights from ENDA sets up the queer community to priortize justice for a privileged group. Coalitions are so much stronger when they function as real coalitions and don't cut out a subgroup when things get rough. I DO think this needs to be something we talk about publicly and honestly, like you say--but with an understanding that solidarity is one of the strongest political tools communities can have. I notice Aravosis didn't get affirmation on his position from any trans people--the ones excluded by his position. The queer community needs to be thinking about who movements work for (explicitly and implicitly) in a ton of ways, related to gender-conformity, to race, and to class, and all the intersections of these. (There is so much more to say and learn about this!)
Cool, Ashley! about midwifery and gender. I also was really moved by Stryker's article, particularly the section about queer families. I want to learn about how people are raising, growing, creating families that go outside of the narrow systems and labels we have. Here's a hard thing: what happens when a kid gets to school? I want to find out how to support kids and other people in non-conformity in places and systems that are often so hostile to that.
Sarah A.

Nikki Lopez said...

Maybe I'm looking at this with a narrow perspective but I couldn't help but be extremely disturbed by the article written by John Aravosis. To me what resonated after reading the article was an explicit feeling of trans fear by the author. The ultimate fear caused by the lack of ability to be able to situate one selves in solidarity with a community because as he wrote "I as a gay man have in common with a man who wants to cut off his penis, surgically construct a vagina and becoming a woman." Number 1) the ridiculous nature of this statement implies a one sided understanding of the trans experience. Because believe me not all trans people wish to accomplish the latter. What this statement does is minimalize the experience of trans people as almost a freak show. It refuse to acknowledge the diversity and complexity of the experience. Number 2)Arvosis mentions in his article that for the gay community to affix the T in the acronym LGB is to agree to a huge sacrifice for "people they barely know". This dettachment, refusal is what I consider another form of othering. Arvosis is proclaiming himself to be not of "that" experience, and therefore by no way in hell could he ever be connected to he might as well says "folks of that kind". And as yes, white, rich gay man, I wonder what his politics are to the issues facing queer communities of color alone. There is more I can write and rant about, but I will hold off and wait for the discussion we have in class... until then.

Nikki Lopez

Charlie said...

I, too, was very disturbed by Aravosis's article. I immediately noticed how misinformed the language that he used was: for example, he called bisexuals "part-time gays" and a transwoman "a man who wants to cut off his penis, surgically construct a vagina and becoming a woman." His descriptions, and the stereotypes he promotes (e.g. that transpeople cannot be gay) only show the ignorance he has towards people and concepts that do not pertain directly to himself.

In regards to the fate of the ENDA, I feel that he raises some valid points. After all, having some rights is better than having no rights. However, he fails to see the connections between the LGB and T communities: breaking heteronormative mores often is accompanied by breaking gender roles (while this is, of course, seen in the straight community, it is often more visible in the gay community). Could a butch lesbian be fired for being too masculine, since gender identity is not protected?

Additionally, the gay and trans communities are very much related: there are many gay transpeople. As Audre Lorde illustrates in her essay, "There is No Hierarchy of Oppressions," the gay community will not truly benefit by oppressing the trans community to gain rights -- because all of the people who intersect both communities will suffer. Just like, for Audre Lorde, a lesbian issue will become a Black issue and vice versa, a trans issue will become a gay issue, and vice versa, because of all of the people who are both gay and trans.

The Brown Sensorium said...

Beautifully put, Charlie. Your mention of my former teacher's point, "there are no hierarchies of oppression," was prescient in its ability to render visible the containment of of sexual "minorities" by a privileged class of self-identified "gay" men. When you have a moment, there is a heated debate in the second part of the Charlie Rose video I linked. It neatly captures a moment and a liberationist agenda whose promise we still have to reap. I remember seeing it when I was a kid and I knew I had to be part of the movement.

Mariah said...

I need to say how I’m feeling because it is becoming a major roadblock to my understanding of various theoretical trends. I also need to articulate that not only am I open to responses, suggestions, and critiques of these ideas, I want you all to challenge what I’m about to say.
Put quite frankly, I feel that my identity as a lesbian is threatened by the notion that gender should become irrelevant to identity. From a personal perspective, I understand the way I interact with the world through the lense of being a woman. Being a woman gives me a specific set of expectations about the way I am treated that have formed the basis of my identity. So even while I try hard not to ascribe to traditional ideals of feminity, I draw strength from the intellectual and activist community of feminism. Feminism, though now a more universal theoretical construct, is about redefining what it means to be a woman. To me, this is opposed to queer theory, which would rather not have gendered identities at all. Then adding to this, I identify as a lesbian, so my world is very much woman-centered. So from a personal perspective, I’m asking the question, what would happen to my world if the concept of gender were abolished? How can I support a movement that seeks to undermine the identity I have come to own?
On a more intellectual note, I take a more pessimistic view than many when it comes to the breakdown of the concept of gender. I think that humanity would simply find another way to categorize people that would function the same way gender does now. I think categorization, while often misplaced and worshiped unnecessarily, is nontheless necessary for us to take in the world. Living in a place and time where meaningful or lasting contact with others is rare, we as people need clues as to how we should react to and behave towards others. We do not have the luxury to sit down and get to know every person we meet. Our social categories in some ways take the place of that more fundamental contact.
As I said in the beginning, I’d like some help deconstructing these ideas I’ve presented. I’m not convinced they are right, or even represent exactly what I think or feel. But I feel compelled to bring them up, so that we don’t fall into the trap of assuming we’re all on the same page.

Jessy said...

Aravosis makes a good point about political strategizing: it's necessary to take the long-view, to be willing to compromise, etc. etc. He raises some pertinent questions, and perhaps some of them had never been raised properly. Clearly, the LBG and T need to have a conversation about the nature of their relationship.

My understanding is that part of the problem with the removal of the protection of gender identity is that it was a unilateral and unexpected decision by Rep. Frank. Presumably there had been a good deal of discussion within among political activists about including protections for trans* people in ENDA. Another part of the problem - from the trans* perspective - is that the mainstream queer rights movement (i.e. HRC) is very much about (cisgender) gay rights (as well as its classist and racist problems), and Rep. Frank's action is seen as just another example of the mainstream queer rights movement being cissexist.

Aravosis understands what passing ENDA would mean to the gay community - the symbolism, the significance in perception. But he doesn't discuss the corollary, what it means to the public's perception that at least part of the gay community is willing to get ENDA passed on the backs of trans* people. The fact that Aravosis seems completely untroubled by this infuriates me. He sounds far too comfortable with being pragmatic at the expense of trans* people, for my taste. But maybe

Personally, I do NOT feel part of an LGBTTTIQQA *community*. I think all those identities have similar political interests, and we should definitely think of ourselves as political allies. Cispeople who identify as lesbian, bisexual, or gay are discriminated against because they love and desire not according to the way that people of their gender are meant to love and desire. The trans* project of breaking down the gender binary (when necessary) and exploring beyond the gender binary and the connection between assigned sex and gender is completely relevant to lesbian, bisexual, and gay cisgendered people and to feminism - in some ways, trans* is an answer to some of the basic questions of feminism. However, despite having similar interests to people with queer sexual orientations, the experience of being trans* is IMO very far removed from the experience of being a cissexual bisexual, lesbian, or gay person. I say this having questioned by sexual orientation for years before I began actively questioning by gender identity. And I say this having been to "queer" support groups, where the word queer really meant lesbian, gay, and maybe bisexual (I find that this is often the case). That was a space where I had to fight for visibility, where I had to explain myself - not a safe or supportive space.

What is really infuriating about Aravosis' piece is not the questions he raises, but his rhetoric and the inaccuracies they perpetuate. To pick two examples:
"In simpler times we were all gay." No, in simpler times trans* people didn't have enough of a voice to make themselves heard even within the queer community. I think Aravosis makes it sound like trans* is a new invention, but that's not true - the labels, the visibility, and the chance for legal recognition and protection are all that's new.

"I have a sense that over the past decade the trans revolution was imposed on the gay community from outside, or at least from above, and thus it never stuck with a large number of gays who weren't running national organizations, weren't activists, or weren't living in liberal gay enclaves like SF and NYC." That's just bad journalism. He feels resentful that trans* activism is making gay rights more complicated, and so he "has a sense" that trans* people somehow insidiously took control of the gay community (which is assuming we have power which we only wish we had). Sure, "it never stuck with a large number of [cisgendered] gays [and bisexuals and lesbians]" but that's because cisgendered people are in no greater hurry to examine their cisprivilege, than straight people are to examine their straight privilege, males/men are to examine their male privilege, and white people are to examine their white privilege.

As to non-trans* people being too scared of the p.c. police to question the inclusion of trans* people in the struggle for queer civil rights: I really can't sympathize. What, exactly, are they afraid of? Of being called on their cisgender assumptions? Of being required to recognize and examine their cisgender privilege before engaging with the question of the place of trans* people in the queer community and in the queer civil rights movement? Cry moar. Aravosis evokes some kind of fictional trans* leadership controlling the queer rights movement - but we are a minority within the queer movement, and we are not in charge. If we were, the trans-inclusive language wouldn't have been removed from ENDA in the first place. If people are agreeing with Aravosis off the record, I think it's because they feel guilty over what they think.

Aravosis, after bitchily wondering (in a passage which demonstrates his uninformed and transphobic attitude toward trans* identities and transitions) what he has in common with transsexuals, asks "Is it wrong for me to simply ask why?" Well, no. That's a good question. I wonder what I'm supposed to have in common with cisgendered queers sometimes, myself. We somehow got lumped together and it was assumed we'd understand each other and play nicely, but we really do need to talk about what we mean to each other, what we mean for each other, what we will and will not do for each other, what we must do for each other. What's wrong is the language, the tone, the slant, the complete absence of anything indicating that he researched the trans* perspective. And what's wrong is that he will (I am sure) reject that part of the answer to his question is to examine his cisgendered privilege, the privilege that makes his able to see the situation of trans* people as not his problem.

In a better world, a conversation within the queer community might have taken place when it became clear that this year ENDA could pass, but without trans-inclusive language. And the conclusion of that conversation might have been that yes, it was worth it to drop the trans-inclusive language. But that conversation didn't take place because Rep. Frank correctly judged that trans* people did not have the power or the visibility or the voice to demand that conversation.

Jessy said...

Mariah, I think you're misrepresenting queer theory when you say it's about abolishing gender. I think it's more about examining and questioning the constructs that exist and about pointing out where they are already permeable and unstable. While there are a number of gender-nonconforming individuals who see themselves as gender-neutral or who do want to get beyond gender entirely, they are a minority. They represent a challenge to the gender binary which I find difficult to understand and which I don't see as feasible. More representative of the trans* experience is very much wanting to be recognized as the gender one identifies as. Speaking for myself, I am very much gendered, but my gender is queer and is not represented by "woman" or by "man" - an incredibly awkward position to be in, which pits me against language itself.

Trans* people have to ask themselves how they are gendered, in opposition to how society thinks they're gendered. And sometimes we wonder how we know. I think an effect of trans* projects is to present that question to cisgendered people as well. I had to ask myself what I mean when I say "I don't think of myself as a woman". And how do I know that I'm not? Well, I just ... know (I long for legitimacy, for validation - I never expect to get it). I have to think about what I mean when I say I'm a transfeminist. So: What do you mean when you say you're a woman? How do you know you're a woman? Are you less a lesbian for the existence of trans* identities? And what is your feminism, in light of the existence of trans* people - transwomen who were seen as boys when they were growing up, transmen who never received male privilege till they started passing, and people like me who are read as women (and in my case, quite likely always will be) but who don't identify as either men or women, perhaps temporarily, perhaps permanently.

The Brown Sensorium said...

I would like those with training in Feminist scholarship to help us unpack some of the questions raised above.

Is “Feminism” universal?

How would 1st, 2nd, or 3rd wave Feminisms render the problem of gender differently?

Does “Queer” theory want to do away with gender or propose a multiplication of gendered possibilities against compulsory binaries?

Under what conditions does it become necessary to “categorize”?

Mariah said...

Jess, could you define cisgendered and what you mean when you write trans*? Thanks.
In response to your comments, it is not the existence of trans people that makes me feel uncomfortable. Their existence as a group has no bearing on my life. Individuals who are trans to me are simply individuals. People have so many differences that gender identity is no easier or harder to work with in a relationship that anything else. What I am struggling with is theory. In Stryker's article on trans rage, she talks about trans people as having to exist in a gendered world, and the implication of that is that they will never be comfortable until the world is not gendered the way it is now. That makes sense to me intellectually, and yet I share your doubt that it will ever happen. I also do not want it to happen.
Second wave feminism was very much about allowing women to occupy an equal space in the world as men, ideologically as well as practically. Releasing us from the chains of patriarchy was the goal. Third wave feminism to me acknowledges the constraints that gender puts on men as well, and urges us to see gender roles as archaic. While this has a lot in common with the idea of an un-gendered world, it does not go that far. My impression is that third wave feminism wants to de-essentialize gender norms, and allow the individual to choose from the range of gendered traits and roles that exist.
However, we're pretty much in the midst of third wave feminism, so it's a little hard to identify it.

Jessy said...

I think that feminism, queer theory, and transgender theory are none of them monolithic entities. It's both possible and legitimate for feminists and for people involved in queer theory and transgender theory to have very different opinions - though I think more so in feminism. I'm sure there are people working within queer and transgender theory who consider the ultimate goal to be an end to gender. I do not aim for that, I do not think that that would be necessarily desirable. I'm interested in understanding how gender is enforced, how gender is made non-consensual - but I do not think that gendering (or any form of difference-making) is necessarily a bad thing.

I'm not thoroughly grounded in the development of feminist thought, and I don't tend to think of myself in reference to the various waves. I call myself a transfeminist (the tip of the 4th wave? that's up to whoever writes this chapter of history once the events have already happened). And I guess I mean two things by that. The first is using "transfeminist" as a portmanteau word: I'm a transgendered person who is a feminist, a feminist who is transgendered. The second is distinguishing myself from previous feminisms which focus/ed on women, primarily cisgendered women. My focus is different. For example, transphobia and homophobia share equal concern with misogyny for me, and I am very interested in acknowledging how those forms of oppressions often work simultaneously. This ideological and intellectual preference is born, in part, of a chronic sense of alienation from mainstream cissexist feminism. However, when I call myself a transfeminist, I do not mean to reject or disavow cissexist feminism entirely. I see my personal agenda as being different from that of ciswomen, though politically speaking we are natural allies in many ways (not that all ciswomen who are feminists see it that way).

Jessy said...

(I'm from Livejournal, and the lack of threading is weird, heh.)

Mariah:

"Cisgendered" is the opposite of "transgendered". "Trans" is the Latin prefix for "across", while "cis" means "on this side". More info on basic terminology is here: http://lifelinesri.org/files/Terminology_handout.pdf

I picked up "trans*" from someone online. It's not a common usage, and works best online/when written out. It's a kind of shorthand, I guess.

I don't interpret Stryker's point as being that transpeople need a genderless world to be comfortable. What Stryker objects to is the non-consensual gendering of people, right out of the womb. That's why it hurt her to hear a child greed with "it's a girl!" - it reminded her that from the moment our genitalia are first seen, a gender is forced upon us. What Stryker objects to is the way that "female" is so strongly linked to "woman" is so strongly linked to "femininity", the way that "male" is so strongly linked to "man" is so strongly linked to "masculinity". This sounds a lot like the quality you point out in third-wave femininism: enabling the individual (whether trans or cis, genderqueer or man or woman, female or intersexed or male) to choose from a range of gendered roles, presentations, and traits. Which is more or less my goal.

Charlie said...

What Stryker objects to is the way that "female" is so strongly linked to "woman" is so strongly linked to "femininity", the way that "male" is so strongly linked to "man" is so strongly linked to "masculinity". This sounds a lot like the quality you point out in third-wave femininism: enabling the individual (whether trans or cis, genderqueer or man or woman, female or intersexed or male) to choose from a range of gendered roles, presentations, and traits. Which is more or less my goal.

This is my goal, as well.

For two years during high school, I worked in a toy store as a salesperson, and, while that sounds like it would have been a lot of fun, I got to experience first-hand how gender norms create such a negative impact on children's lives.

I can see the advantages in having a society based on them. They provide a good basis of how one should act, in terms of expectations, manners, etc, which could be useful in raising a child. However, today, it is like they have taken over parenting: if your child dares to break these gender norms, hir life will be ruined, and ze will grow up to be a psychopath, or develop other equally ridiculous qualities.

As someone who is transgender, I have always felt uncomfortable with how rigid gender roles are. However, working in this toy store exposed me to more outrageous reasons why it is detrimental for raising children. The tamer parents would simply object if I used an unsatisfactory colour in wrapping presents (e.g. if red is not masculine enough for wrapping a boy's present).

Others would have more ridiculous expectations. One would refuse to buy a pirate-themed arts and crafts kit for a boy because it included Mardi Gras-type beads for "pirate booty," and she did not want to buy the boy jewelry. Another would ask if a pretend food box, with sandwiches, is more for boys or girls (apparently, this customer is unaware that all genders eat?).

And, of course, they would always yell at their daughters for running to the sports section, and their sons for playing with the dollhouses.

We are strongly discouraged to not make judgments about other people based on physical characteristics like race (for good reason), so why should gender/sex be different?

Like Mariah, I fully realize that deconstructing the emphasis we place on gender is extremely difficult, if not impossible. However, I believe that we should still try. Not to devalue anyone's identity, especially not that, but to say, "You know what? It's perfectly all right if my son wants to wear jewelry, or if my daughter wants to eat the blue lollipop. My child can do whatever ze wants to do, as long as ze is not hurting anyone and striving to be a good person."

(All of the situations I mentioned did happen, and in the cases of the children, the parents objected each time. Yes, even the lollipop. I wonder if my comment, which does not deal with material we've discussed in class, or other theory, is inappropriate, but the toy store made me realize that what I once thought to be merely annoying/disappointing is actually a very, very bad problem.)