I've been sick lately, which means I've been watching a lot of stuff on Hulu. And since my gender on Hulu is still set to "female," I get a lot of ads for products geared toward women. Products like KY Intense, menstrual pads (y'know, if you don't want to think about your pad you might consider a cup), yadda.
And what I've noticed is that all of these ads are geared toward straight women.
Take the KY Intense commercials, for instance. It's being marketed as "specially formulated to create female satisfaction" (whatever that means). Yet in every commercial I've seen, it shows a man and a woman (clearly married) discussing how much better it has made their sex lives.
I'm all for women's sexuality being shown in a positive light, really. The general message of these ads - that women deserve to be satisfied in bed - is a good one. However, while the sexualities of straight, cisgender, thin, white, married women are being encouraged, the sexualities of virtually every other kind of women are being erased.
For instance, all of the couples are cis and hetero. Despite the fact that the marketing of this product has, ostensibly, nothing to do with testosterone-fueled penis bearers, you can find one in every single commercial. Two women having sex using KY Intense and having a great time? Unheard of. A het couple wherein both members have estrogen-fueled bodies and vulvae? Unheard of. (Not that I'd expect to see that in this day and age, but erasure is erasure.) I am left uncertain, as well, as to the usefulness of this product for trans women of varying body types. Since the product is "clinically proven to enhance female satisfaction," I assume that it was specifically formulated to work on womb-generated vulvae and left at that. Given that we are at a point where trans women are visible and being recognized as women, it would be great of KY to try to include them in this shallow quest to make a buck.
All of the couples have been white, as well. The sexual satisfaction of black women, Asian women, etc.? Doesn't matter. Well, it matters inasmuch as "they'll see the ads and buy this product too, so we're good" but that's it. There's no real interest in promoting the idea that there are happily married non-white couples out there, having gratingly traditional hetero sex and using KY Intense to make things more pleasurable. I don't know that I have the depth of information necessary to explain why this is so harmful, but it has to do with stereotypes regarding black people never getting married, and Asian men being emasculate/feminine. Basically, they're not considered physically capable of engaging in a "normal" relationship.
And, of course, they are all thin, young, and able-bodied. Heaven forbid we hear about fat, old, and/or disabled people having any kind of sex life - much less talking about it on television. Sex is gross if the people involved aren't perfect.
(And they're all couples. Despite the fact that a woman might want to get some "female satisfaction" without a partner. I guess solo sex is still too nasty for TV.)
For other ads, this becomes even more grating as there are even fewer reasons to put the woman in a relationship, yet she somehow manages to hook up with Mr. Wealthy McCisgender every time. An ad for menstrual pads, for instance, includes a woman saying good-night to her lantern-jawed white date at the end of the night, while fantasizing about giving him smoochies. Ads for other products show our thin, frequently white heroine preparing dinner for her family, roughhousing with her children, and arguing with her husband - all expressions of privilege in some way or another. Not every family is white - for better or worse, black folks have garnered a position as the other "American" race and appear infrequently. Yet we never see a man of Asian descent playing the dim-witted, meat-chomping foil who fails to detect his wife's yogurt. We never see a mother in a wheelchair sharing a special moment with her child. Never an old woman preparing dinner. God forbid we have some combination of these.
Even as young, white, thin, able-bodied, straight, married, cisgender women are being oppressed by many of these ads, every other kind of woman is being erased.
There's one exception that I know of - the Hamburger Helper commercial, which is a completely disgusting and exploitative piece showing why poor single moms should stop eating fast food, which is making them fat, and buy someone else's unnecessary product instead. Good times, yo.
Showing posts with label female. Show all posts
Showing posts with label female. Show all posts
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Your penis is not a dowsing rod for uteri.
I bring this up because some douchebags who presume to write fiction will include woman characters who successfully disguise themselves as men, and then man characters will be Inexplicably Attracted, causing them to have a breakdown and wonder if they're really teh ghey!omgz. But of course they aren't! Because even though they couldn't tell at all, the person they are attracted to had a Really Real Uterus buried deep down underneath all those clothes, and that makes it heterosexual.
This is bullshit.
Dear "Straight" Man: Your sex drive does not magically know the True Sex of whoever you're looking at. If a woman is successfully passing as a man, albeit a pretty one, to the point where you would never ever question her sex, and you're attracted to her, then you're attracted to her as a feminine man. Period. If you're not attracted to her normally, but when she gets in a certain light she looks a whole lot like a woman and suddenly you're into her, then you're attracted to her as a woman. Otherwise, that inexplicable feeling you're getting is - as much as I hate to say it - just a little bit gay. But hey, good news! Being gay, bisexual, straight-with-exceptions or whatever you are is not a bad thing. It's not! It doesn't make you less of a man. It doesn't make you less of a human being. It just means that you sometimes like dudes.
Dear writers: See above.
In addition to the fact that you are essentially assigning psychic uterus-detecting powers to men's penises, this trope is deeply offensive because it implies that someone's biological sex is their "true sex" and always trumps the way they're presenting. This effectively de-genders all transgender individuals and undermines the validity of those who are attracted to them as their true gender.
Oh, and in honor of my asswipe family: no, the answer is not "pheremones." Pheremones play a role in attraction; they are not a fucking panacea. How do we know this? Because trans women whose bodies are currently fueled by testosterone have successfully attracted the attentions of heterosexual men who, upon finding out that the woman in question does not actually possess a vagina, throw a fit and kill her because she threatens their heterosexuality and masculinity.
Which is, in part, because assholes like you keep writing stories that perpetuate the "true sex" myth.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Violence is NEVER a joke.
Trigger warning: description of physical violence in the first paragraph, discussion of threats throughout.
Never ever. It's not a fucking joke.
Have you ever been the victim of, or been in close proximity to, an act of physical violence? Let me tell you what it was like for me: it's fucking TERRIFYING. You don't know whether the person being beaten (be that you or someone else) is going to survive the encounter or not. You don't know whether the attacker is going to keep going or for how long, and you're afraid to try to stop it in case xe turns on you next. The blows don't come rapidfire like they do in Hollywood. They're fast, yeah, but you see EVERY SINGLE ONE as it lands, and if you're not the one being attacked, suddenly you realize that could be you.
It's like a nightmare come to life. But at least in a nightmare you know you'll be safe when you wake up. You don't get that comfort in the waking world.
The reason I bring this up is because I found this post on Microaggressions today:
The fact is, if a man said this to another man, there would be no question in his mind that this was a threat. Men just don't say shit like this to one another unless they expect that they might follow through with it at some point. Why should it be different for women?
But he's just pointing out a fact - firstly, no, he isn't. 120-pound, 5'5 women tend to take self-defense courses that are aimed at 120-pound, 5'5 women. They learn how to use their enemies' size to their advantage. Add to that her potential opponent's cockiness, evidenced by his comments, and she may well get the upper hand.
And secondly, no. It's not "a threat" when you say it to a man but "just pointing out a fact" when you say it to a woman. This assumes that, because of their relationship or the man's personality or whatever, the man means well and wouldn't actually do anything, and woman has an obligation to believe that.
At the risk of repeating myself, NO.
For one thing, she does not know what's in that man's head (and neither do you). He could be acting like a nice guy when, in reality, he wouldn't hesitate to attack her. Or he could genuinely be a mainly nice guy, but due to emotional repression or simple failure to understand acceptable boundaries, he may be inclined either now or down the road to attack her anyway. She has no guarantees that she is safe. Therefore, it is not "overreacting," but JUST FUCKING PRUDENT to assume that this statement is more than "just pointing out a fact."
And thirdly, why the fuck would he feel he needs to bring this up, anyway? Is he afraid that if he doesn't, the woman will get delusional about her abilities? As if a 5'5, 120-pound woman needs to be REMINDED that she's small and vulnerable. As if she took MULTIPLE SELF-DEFENSE CLASSES because she thought she was perfectly safe. She doesn't need to be reminded.
Yeah, but that wasn't really a JOKE, so I don't see what it has to do with your first point - It was a cavalier statement about inflicting violence on another human being, which said human being was then expected not to take seriously. Close enough.
Never ever. It's not a fucking joke.
Have you ever been the victim of, or been in close proximity to, an act of physical violence? Let me tell you what it was like for me: it's fucking TERRIFYING. You don't know whether the person being beaten (be that you or someone else) is going to survive the encounter or not. You don't know whether the attacker is going to keep going or for how long, and you're afraid to try to stop it in case xe turns on you next. The blows don't come rapidfire like they do in Hollywood. They're fast, yeah, but you see EVERY SINGLE ONE as it lands, and if you're not the one being attacked, suddenly you realize that could be you.
It's like a nightmare come to life. But at least in a nightmare you know you'll be safe when you wake up. You don't get that comfort in the waking world.
The reason I bring this up is because I found this post on Microaggressions today:
If I should mention (snip) that I’ve taken multiple self defense classes, the response that I almost always get from men (snip) is some variation of “oh, well, I could still snap you like a twig, you silly, 120 pound, 5’5 girl.” It’s like they want to make sure I know that no matter what I do, they can always overpower me, I will never be able to handle myself, I will never have any power, no matter how I try, over my own safety.You know what that is? THAT'S FUCKING CREEPY. That's the kind of behavior that will probably make ANYONE who is less physically able than most average-height, young-to-middle-aged, able-bodied, testosterone-fueled men want to run for the door. (It can also be triggering to victims of actual violence.) If you're not sure why, try putting yourself on the receiving end of this exchange.
The fact is, if a man said this to another man, there would be no question in his mind that this was a threat. Men just don't say shit like this to one another unless they expect that they might follow through with it at some point. Why should it be different for women?
But he's just pointing out a fact - firstly, no, he isn't. 120-pound, 5'5 women tend to take self-defense courses that are aimed at 120-pound, 5'5 women. They learn how to use their enemies' size to their advantage. Add to that her potential opponent's cockiness, evidenced by his comments, and she may well get the upper hand.
And secondly, no. It's not "a threat" when you say it to a man but "just pointing out a fact" when you say it to a woman. This assumes that, because of their relationship or the man's personality or whatever, the man means well and wouldn't actually do anything, and woman has an obligation to believe that.
At the risk of repeating myself, NO.
For one thing, she does not know what's in that man's head (and neither do you). He could be acting like a nice guy when, in reality, he wouldn't hesitate to attack her. Or he could genuinely be a mainly nice guy, but due to emotional repression or simple failure to understand acceptable boundaries, he may be inclined either now or down the road to attack her anyway. She has no guarantees that she is safe. Therefore, it is not "overreacting," but JUST FUCKING PRUDENT to assume that this statement is more than "just pointing out a fact."
And thirdly, why the fuck would he feel he needs to bring this up, anyway? Is he afraid that if he doesn't, the woman will get delusional about her abilities? As if a 5'5, 120-pound woman needs to be REMINDED that she's small and vulnerable. As if she took MULTIPLE SELF-DEFENSE CLASSES because she thought she was perfectly safe. She doesn't need to be reminded.
Yeah, but that wasn't really a JOKE, so I don't see what it has to do with your first point - It was a cavalier statement about inflicting violence on another human being, which said human being was then expected not to take seriously. Close enough.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Breakdown Of "I Kissed A Vampire"
"I Kissed A Vampire" is a web musical that spans three episodes. Directed by Chris Sean Nolan (not to be confused with Christopher Nolan), and starring a whole slew of white people, it tells the story of confused teenage vampire Dylan, his girlfriend Sarah, and Dylan's self-appointed mentor vampire Trey.
Dylan is played by Lucas Grabeel. Those who have seen the High School Musical films know him as Ryan Evans, Sharpay's fey underdog of a brother. Sarah is the adorable Adrian Slade, who previously had not done any film acting but has a history in theatre. And Trey is filmed by Andrew Seeley, the singer who filled in for n00b Zac Efron in the first HSM film and a decent actor in his own right.
The first episode opens with Dylan, angsting about his newly-acquired vampirehood. Not only is he having problems with fangs and blood cravings, but he's really worried about his best friend and proto-girlfriend, Sarah. Any time they get too close, he gets a sudden urge to go for her neck and the whole thing gets awkward. It's a simple and obvious allegory for teenage sexuality and the Awkward Boner, but it works well enough. He performs the song "Outta My Head," expressing his regret that he can't get close to Sarah but also can't stand to be apart from her, with plenty of imagery that seems to be borne of his vision of himself as an intrinsically corrupted and dangerous thing.
After that, the story switches to Sarah, who expresses herself with "Forbidden Planet." The song, with an interesting mixture of aggressive and submissive imagery, conveys the fact that Sarah is very much in love with Dylan and really, really wants to just get it on with him already, but his avoidant behavior is leaving her confused and frustrated. Finally, she decides to visit him and find out what's going on already.
The end of the episode introduces Trey, and the beginning of the second episode fleshes him out. Trey's basically the opposite of Dylan. He's confident, to the point where he is aggressively sexual, and tries to encourage Dylan to be the same way. The song "Love's In Vein" is pretty much Trey's ode to casual sex, implying that a monogamous relationship is a waste of time and that what Dylan should really be doing is sowing some wild oats, with a backup dance crew of seductive lady vampires to drive the point home. Dylan's not into it, which frustrates Trey.
Who should show up at this point but Sarah? She's here and she wants to know why Dylan's being so weird. Trey, sensing opportunity, decides to use Sarah to try to manipulate Dylan into vamping out, and uses his vampire powers of hypnosis to convince her to come to a party. Dylan is against it, but Sarah, under Trey's influence, advises Dylan to "live a little" and they leave.
The third episode opens at the party, where Trey's backup dancers are revealed to be his harem of hypersexual vampires. Trey gives Sarah a drugged drink, then encourages Dylan to take advantage of her altered mental state and kiss her. Dylan refuses at first, but when Trey pushes him he goes for it. His fangs come out again, though, and he stops himself. Trey gets frustrated and decides to seduce (read: rape) Sarah himself. Through the song "Just A Little Peck," Trey and Sarah dance and flirt with one another while Dylan, who is being held back by the dancers, continues to angst about the possibility of hurting Sarah.
The scenario climaxes when Trey starts to bite Sarah, which gives Dylan the courage to break free of the dancers and fight him off. This apparently causes Sarah to snap out of the effect of her drink, and she asks Dylan what's going on. Avoiding the topic of vampires, he instead goes on the "confession of love" tack, and Sarah kisses him. The last song, "Happily Afterlife," consists of Sarah and Dylan vowing to be together forever, no matter what weird stuff might happen.
It's pretty silly, but it's also very interesting, which I will now get into.
First of all, you have Dylan. Realistically speaking, there's nothing groundbreaking about this character; he's the typical virgin whose horny best friend is encouraging him to do something he's not ready for (straight out of an 80's movie.)
However, his character is important, both as a role model to teenage boys and an example of a genuinely good (i.e., safe and dateable) vampire boyfriend for young women.
Dylan's character bears a great deal of similarity to the better-known Edward Cullen, whose refusal to have sex with his girlfriend is only matched by his determination to control everything she does for her own "safety" - manipulative at best, abusive at worst. Dylan, on the other hand, is against manipulating Sarah in any way. Certainly he does not find it necessary in the end to terminate their relationship just because there is a chance that she might be hurt.
The downside to this is that he doesn't give her a chance to terminate the relationship based on that, though. He avoids letting Sarah know that he is a vampire repeatedly. This is largely because he's convinced she won't believe him, but it has the unintended side effect of removing her ability to make an informed decision and is NOT COOL, GUISE.
Sarah is, without a doubt, my favorite character. When she's first introduced, she is the epitome of what white teenage femininity is "supposed" to be - wholesome, blonde, yadda. But within a short time of her introduction she is revealed to be quite sexual, and unapologetically so. Yet she is never portrayed as a "slut" - in fact, the clothes she wears in sexually-aggressive mode are almost as wholesome and modest as her regular outfit. She's a good girl who also has needs and isn't afraid to vocalize them.
Again I feel the need to compare the story to Twilight, as its mortal, vampire-loving heroine is also wholesome-seeming but with a not insignificant sex drive. However, there's a huge difference between the stories. Whereas Bella's sexuality is portrayed as rashness, and Edward as a sort of hero who saves her from herself by refusing to have sex with her, Sarah's needs are shown to be valid and worthy of fulfillment.
Trey is the character whom I feel is most likely to be misinterpreted. This is because of certain traits that, to be honest, cause me some pretty mixed feelings. Basically, one way to look at Trey is as an incredibly powerful, confident, and dominant vampire - in other words, sex in a can. He's hot, no doubt about it. But he is also manipulative, misogynistic, self-centered, and an attempted rapist, and this is in no way a good thing.
My main problem with that is that I don't feel the story comes down hard enough on him for what he did. Dylan does stop him, but really he suffers no consequence for manipulating Sarah - in fact, while the main lovebirds are confessing their love for one another in the final number, Trey is in the background having fun with his harem. The message appears to be that Sarah isn't a toy, but all those nameless girls in the background are. The fact that the vampire women have a significantly "sluttier" appearance than Sarah - big, curled hair, sensuous movements, more pronounced makeup, and more revealing clothes - gives the unfortunate impression that any girl who acts in such a manner is fair game for an asshole's collection of sexually available women. Not awesome.
There's also the fact that the "good" characters have blonde hair - often used as a shorthand for purity - and the "bad" characters have brown hair, implying some kind of corruptitude. Yeah, right.
I have to say that I really have a soft spot for this musical. There are some unfortunate implications (a nice way of saying "harmful messages") in the story, but it's also got some good things in it, and the soundtrack kicks ass. So does Drew Seeley in that funerary suit, yes indeed.
Dylan is played by Lucas Grabeel. Those who have seen the High School Musical films know him as Ryan Evans, Sharpay's fey underdog of a brother. Sarah is the adorable Adrian Slade, who previously had not done any film acting but has a history in theatre. And Trey is filmed by Andrew Seeley, the singer who filled in for n00b Zac Efron in the first HSM film and a decent actor in his own right.
The first episode opens with Dylan, angsting about his newly-acquired vampirehood. Not only is he having problems with fangs and blood cravings, but he's really worried about his best friend and proto-girlfriend, Sarah. Any time they get too close, he gets a sudden urge to go for her neck and the whole thing gets awkward. It's a simple and obvious allegory for teenage sexuality and the Awkward Boner, but it works well enough. He performs the song "Outta My Head," expressing his regret that he can't get close to Sarah but also can't stand to be apart from her, with plenty of imagery that seems to be borne of his vision of himself as an intrinsically corrupted and dangerous thing.
After that, the story switches to Sarah, who expresses herself with "Forbidden Planet." The song, with an interesting mixture of aggressive and submissive imagery, conveys the fact that Sarah is very much in love with Dylan and really, really wants to just get it on with him already, but his avoidant behavior is leaving her confused and frustrated. Finally, she decides to visit him and find out what's going on already.
The end of the episode introduces Trey, and the beginning of the second episode fleshes him out. Trey's basically the opposite of Dylan. He's confident, to the point where he is aggressively sexual, and tries to encourage Dylan to be the same way. The song "Love's In Vein" is pretty much Trey's ode to casual sex, implying that a monogamous relationship is a waste of time and that what Dylan should really be doing is sowing some wild oats, with a backup dance crew of seductive lady vampires to drive the point home. Dylan's not into it, which frustrates Trey.
Who should show up at this point but Sarah? She's here and she wants to know why Dylan's being so weird. Trey, sensing opportunity, decides to use Sarah to try to manipulate Dylan into vamping out, and uses his vampire powers of hypnosis to convince her to come to a party. Dylan is against it, but Sarah, under Trey's influence, advises Dylan to "live a little" and they leave.
The third episode opens at the party, where Trey's backup dancers are revealed to be his harem of hypersexual vampires. Trey gives Sarah a drugged drink, then encourages Dylan to take advantage of her altered mental state and kiss her. Dylan refuses at first, but when Trey pushes him he goes for it. His fangs come out again, though, and he stops himself. Trey gets frustrated and decides to seduce (read: rape) Sarah himself. Through the song "Just A Little Peck," Trey and Sarah dance and flirt with one another while Dylan, who is being held back by the dancers, continues to angst about the possibility of hurting Sarah.
The scenario climaxes when Trey starts to bite Sarah, which gives Dylan the courage to break free of the dancers and fight him off. This apparently causes Sarah to snap out of the effect of her drink, and she asks Dylan what's going on. Avoiding the topic of vampires, he instead goes on the "confession of love" tack, and Sarah kisses him. The last song, "Happily Afterlife," consists of Sarah and Dylan vowing to be together forever, no matter what weird stuff might happen.
It's pretty silly, but it's also very interesting, which I will now get into.
First of all, you have Dylan. Realistically speaking, there's nothing groundbreaking about this character; he's the typical virgin whose horny best friend is encouraging him to do something he's not ready for (straight out of an 80's movie.)
However, his character is important, both as a role model to teenage boys and an example of a genuinely good (i.e., safe and dateable) vampire boyfriend for young women.
Dylan's character bears a great deal of similarity to the better-known Edward Cullen, whose refusal to have sex with his girlfriend is only matched by his determination to control everything she does for her own "safety" - manipulative at best, abusive at worst. Dylan, on the other hand, is against manipulating Sarah in any way. Certainly he does not find it necessary in the end to terminate their relationship just because there is a chance that she might be hurt.
The downside to this is that he doesn't give her a chance to terminate the relationship based on that, though. He avoids letting Sarah know that he is a vampire repeatedly. This is largely because he's convinced she won't believe him, but it has the unintended side effect of removing her ability to make an informed decision and is NOT COOL, GUISE.
Sarah is, without a doubt, my favorite character. When she's first introduced, she is the epitome of what white teenage femininity is "supposed" to be - wholesome, blonde, yadda. But within a short time of her introduction she is revealed to be quite sexual, and unapologetically so. Yet she is never portrayed as a "slut" - in fact, the clothes she wears in sexually-aggressive mode are almost as wholesome and modest as her regular outfit. She's a good girl who also has needs and isn't afraid to vocalize them.
Again I feel the need to compare the story to Twilight, as its mortal, vampire-loving heroine is also wholesome-seeming but with a not insignificant sex drive. However, there's a huge difference between the stories. Whereas Bella's sexuality is portrayed as rashness, and Edward as a sort of hero who saves her from herself by refusing to have sex with her, Sarah's needs are shown to be valid and worthy of fulfillment.
Trey is the character whom I feel is most likely to be misinterpreted. This is because of certain traits that, to be honest, cause me some pretty mixed feelings. Basically, one way to look at Trey is as an incredibly powerful, confident, and dominant vampire - in other words, sex in a can. He's hot, no doubt about it. But he is also manipulative, misogynistic, self-centered, and an attempted rapist, and this is in no way a good thing.
My main problem with that is that I don't feel the story comes down hard enough on him for what he did. Dylan does stop him, but really he suffers no consequence for manipulating Sarah - in fact, while the main lovebirds are confessing their love for one another in the final number, Trey is in the background having fun with his harem. The message appears to be that Sarah isn't a toy, but all those nameless girls in the background are. The fact that the vampire women have a significantly "sluttier" appearance than Sarah - big, curled hair, sensuous movements, more pronounced makeup, and more revealing clothes - gives the unfortunate impression that any girl who acts in such a manner is fair game for an asshole's collection of sexually available women. Not awesome.
There's also the fact that the "good" characters have blonde hair - often used as a shorthand for purity - and the "bad" characters have brown hair, implying some kind of corruptitude. Yeah, right.
I have to say that I really have a soft spot for this musical. There are some unfortunate implications (a nice way of saying "harmful messages") in the story, but it's also got some good things in it, and the soundtrack kicks ass. So does Drew Seeley in that funerary suit, yes indeed.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Renee of Womanist Musings on Chris Brown
TRIGGER WARNING: discusses domestic violence (non-explicit)
When I saw the headline "Chris Brown refers to beating of Rihanna as 'mishap'," I knew this wasn't going to be pretty. And Renee of Womanist Musings explains exactly why.
A-MEN. Let me reiterate: anyone who can look back at BEATING ANOTHER HUMAN BEING and call it a "mishap" has not learned their lesson. And I just want to add: the recipient doesn't have to be a woman. The same kind of language has been used by parents who have beaten their children (who often add "I just got too mad and lost control!" as if that was an acceptable excuse. Ho-hum, ageism), white men beating black men, cis men murdering trans women. The only thing that matters is that the victim has less privilege than his or her attacker, because when THAT factor comes into play suddenly it was a horrible mistake and he didn't mean it and he really, REALLY shouldn't be punished that hard because HOW COULD HE HELP IT?
You know if Rihanna was a white man - or even a white woman, possibly - it wouldn't have played out this way. And his behavior should not be going unchecked in this instance, either. The enemy is right in front of you. Let's treat him like the criminal he is.
When I saw the headline "Chris Brown refers to beating of Rihanna as 'mishap'," I knew this wasn't going to be pretty. And Renee of Womanist Musings explains exactly why.
Abusers like Brown don't just hit one time and then change their ways. Abuse become a pattern, a way of life, and the fact that he was raised watching domestic violencem means that he has already identified the oppressor rather than the victim. The pattern of abuse is very hard to break and even men that receive counseling often end up re abusing. While there is no guarantee that Brown will hit another woman, there is also no guarantee he won't. We need to remember that most often, domestic abuse goes on for year and in some cases ends in death.
...
He then went on to complain about those who stopped associating with him in the wake of his violent actions against Rihanna. He finishes by referring to the battering of Rihanna as "mishap." If he cannot even acknowledge what he did, how is anyone to believe that he feels responsible for his actions and wants to genuinely make amends. There have stars like Rick Sanchez and even my beloved Queen Latifah who have suggested that the public should consider his youth, or that enough time has passed for us to move on. This comes down to the fact that even talented, beautiful, class privileged women like Rihanna are disposable. Violence against women is an issue that society tends to pay lip service to and this is why men like Brown can freely refer to instances of outright violence as a "mishap."
A-MEN. Let me reiterate: anyone who can look back at BEATING ANOTHER HUMAN BEING and call it a "mishap" has not learned their lesson. And I just want to add: the recipient doesn't have to be a woman. The same kind of language has been used by parents who have beaten their children (who often add "I just got too mad and lost control!" as if that was an acceptable excuse. Ho-hum, ageism), white men beating black men, cis men murdering trans women. The only thing that matters is that the victim has less privilege than his or her attacker, because when THAT factor comes into play suddenly it was a horrible mistake and he didn't mean it and he really, REALLY shouldn't be punished that hard because HOW COULD HE HELP IT?
You know if Rihanna was a white man - or even a white woman, possibly - it wouldn't have played out this way. And his behavior should not be going unchecked in this instance, either. The enemy is right in front of you. Let's treat him like the criminal he is.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Trans Male Privilege - Oh, Yes, We Have It.
You can consider this a sequel to the last post. Or not. But it does deserve coverage. To deny that trans men have certain privileges over trans women - and quite a list, at that - is just plain irresponsible.
I'm probably going to be talking a lot more through this one, because it is a very complex situation. The interesting thing about trans male privilege is that while some of it comes from us obtaining male privilege after we pass, a lot of it is, in fact, female privilege that we had before. Female privilege is something that doesn't get talked about very much - at least until a discussion of trans male privilege starts - but it does exist. It doesn't "balance things out" or make them better or whatnot. In fact, a lot of female privileges paradoxically exist because of misogyny. That would be a good subject for a whole other post.
In the meantime, if you are curious as to what trans male privilege looks like, here it is.
1: Trans men are often admitted to women-only spaces where trans women are not.
I'm going to start this one by telling a story. Once upon a time, I had a friend. He was a really great friend - one of the few I had - and we had a lot of good times together. We usually hung out at his house, and usually in his bedroom just because it was private, and all was amazing.
Until one day, when I was told I couldn't go in there anymore. The reason: "No girls allowed."
I was floored. We had been friends for years. Admittedly it was a casual friendship, and I wasn't out at this time, but I assumed that he knew me well enough to know there was no reason to keep me out of his room. I was wrong. It turned out he valued my genitals more than my personhood, more than our relationship, more than our shared experience of hanging out having fun together.
How often does a trans man get excluded from male-only spaces? Not often, but you can bet that when we are we're fit to be tied. After all, it's blatantly obvious that our genitals are being considered more important than our actual right AS MEN to be there. But when a trans woman complains about being excluded from women-only spaces, what happens? Well, I've been party to these kind of discussions, and here's how it plays out: "Huh." "Really?" "I wonder why." "Oh, well, there are trans men working on it, so can we move on to something else?"
There are so many questions that go along with this, like "Why do trans men want into these spaces to begin with?" The answer seems to be either vaginal solidarity, or the fact that we've spent a long time putting up with misogyny owing to our physical appearance. But - and here's the big one - trans women haven't? Just because they started later than you doesn't mean that they're not catching up and fast. The only other reason one could possibly want to keep trans women out of women-only spaces is the one that I demonstrated above - genital paranoia. If the women in your group are that afraid of letting in someone who has or has had a penis, guys, you might start asking yourselves why you are allowed to stick around.
One thing I mentioned in my last post is that trans men are somewhat invisible. We haven't been portrayed as frequently as trans women (though we are catching up.) Which leads me to my next point...
2. When we are portrayed in media, it is usually positive.
When Thomas Beattie got pregnant way back in the day, it was something of a freakshow. OMG PREGANT MAN. WEIRDEST THING EVER. Now suppose the situation was reversed, and a trans lesbian had kept her reproductive organs and temporarily ceased hormone therapy so she could father a child. You know what the reaction would have been?
IT'S A FAAAAKE.
Her womanhood would have been put under intense scrutiny. She would probably have been referred to using her pre-change name, and male pronouns. Her media presence would be "a poor, deluded man who thinks he's a woman but obviously isn't ready to make all the necessary sacrifices."
Why? Because that's the reaction that nearly every trans woman gets. Unless she is post-hormones, post-op, name-change, the full shebang - and sometimes even then - her genetic history is considered more important than how she feels and (most importantly) asks to be addressed. Not that trans men are given a free pass - we get misgendered quite a bit. But we do have one other big advantage:
3. "Trans man" or "FTM crossdresser" is not used as shorthand for "mentally ill."
Take a look at the portrayal of trans men and women who have dressed as men over the years. You've got the standard Crossdresser narrative, employed by Shakespeare, demonstrated by several great women who had to dress as men to overcome oppression, and used recently in cheeky romance stories ("Just One of the Guys" was a favorite of mine). You've got Boys Don't Cry - the FTM edition of the "tragic transsexual" storyline that has been used on trans female characters for years. And lately we have Degrassi's Adam Torres, an extremely well-written and sympathetic character.
Now, we've had a share of floaters (see: The L Word). But look at the film history of trans women and crossdressing men. The Tragic Transsexual has been used in multiple films (such as the film adaptation of I Want What I Want and Breakfast on Pluto). A whole story (Hedwig and the Angry Inch) is dedicated to the unfortunate tale of a man who believes that he needs to transition and ends up regretting it - not a wholly bad premise, but it serves the rather unfortunate effect of implying that trans women do not know why they are and what they need to do. And when we get to crossdressing, there are only two common narratives: the Drag Queen (Priscilla, Queen of the Desert; La Cage Aux Folles, RuPaul's Drag Race, etc.) and the Crossdressing Slasher (Psycho and a few of its brain-babies). Sometimes it's just comic relief (some of Shakespeare's stuff, White Chicks, Mulan). In news media, crossdressing is used like a punchline - "Not only did he break into their house, but he was wearing WOMEN'S CLOTHES! OMG!" This isn't to say that there are no positive portrayals of trans women, either. But there is a glut of terrible ones that does not exist for trans men. (Note: there is no Ticked Off Tranny Boys With Knives.)
Invisibility sucks, but in our case it has certain advantages.
4. The desire to transition to male is compatible with the concept of male superiority.
Try telling a guy that you want to be a woman (if you aren't one already). He'll react with shock, dismay, yadda. Ask him why. Is it because women are inferior? He might say yes. He might say no, it's just that he can't imagine ever wanting to be one.
Try telling a woman that you want to be a guy (if you aren't one already). She'll react with shock, dismay, yadda. But not because being a woman is so great. More likely, because she thinks you're only transitioning so that you don't have to put up with sexist crap.
Are either of these valid reasons to react negatively? OF COURSE NOT. But people will at least understand why you want to be a man. They're "just better." More physical strength. More sex drive (allegedly). More... betterness. Shows like "Man Caves" exist for a reason - manhood is often treated like an exclusive club that women need to be kept out of and that every man should want to be allowed into - womanhood is kind of a consolation prize. This isn't ubiquitous, but it's certainly a pervasive idea. Consequentially, trans men just aren't seen as the same brand of sick fuck as trans women are.
Now for a bit of non-sociology.
5. The most obvious indicators of our hormonal history can often be concealed using clothing.
Testosterone and estrogen work on the body in different ways during endopuberty. Estrogen causes curves, stunts height, inhibits muscle growth, and that kind of thing. Testosterone increases height, causes muscle growth, masculinizes the bone structure in the body and face, deepens the voice, and promotes beard growth.
In other words, most of estrogen's effects are temporary. Most of testosterone's effects are permanent. Furthermore, the effect of estrogen that poses the biggest obstacle to being seen as a man - breasts - can usually be subdued, albeit uncomfortably, using a binder.
On the other hand, trans women who have undergone testosterone puberty may have several factors to deal with. Facial hair must be shaved regularly; any presence of beardliness is seen as masculine. Electrolysis, which is painful and takes several hours over a period of months, is often required just to get it under control. A larger-size skeleton, masculinized facial features, and lower voice are all difficult to hide, and are considered by many cis people to be telltale signs that a woman is trans.
6. Trans men can dress in the clothing of their target sex before they pass without being viewed as perverts or potential criminals.
See point 4.
7. Queer folk prefer masculine women.
This one is brought to you by trans women and basically any femme folks who were born with vaginas.
Let me asplain - I'm not saying that queer people typically think of trans men as women. However, we do benefit from something I will heretofore refer to as "vaginal solidarity." Sure, we're guys, but we're special guys. We're trusted guys. And we're totes butch, so that makes us crazy popular.
On the other hand, femme women (cis or genderqueer) and femme trans women are often viewed as "reinforcing the patriarchy", and therefore not subversive enough to be queer. It's femmephobic bullshit, but there you go.
8. Assuming we pass, we're guys.
There's no mincing around the fact. No, not every trans guy passes. And no, it doesn't grant us full cishetero privilege - we still have to deal with treatment/surgeries, leftover "female" behaviors that lower our credibility, and of course quite a few of us are gay. But it does give us some advantages. Our opinions our valued. Our bodies are not commodified (unless it is found out that we are trans). We are usually read as our desired gender on the Internet. And a bajillion other things.
Now, none of this is to say that trans guys aren't marginalized. We are. For the crime of being trans, for the incidence of being born with vaginas, we are put down by millions of people as freaks and uppity and whatnot else. But we do have some privileges, and we have to acknowledge them if the world is going to become a safe place for all trans people.
I'm probably going to be talking a lot more through this one, because it is a very complex situation. The interesting thing about trans male privilege is that while some of it comes from us obtaining male privilege after we pass, a lot of it is, in fact, female privilege that we had before. Female privilege is something that doesn't get talked about very much - at least until a discussion of trans male privilege starts - but it does exist. It doesn't "balance things out" or make them better or whatnot. In fact, a lot of female privileges paradoxically exist because of misogyny. That would be a good subject for a whole other post.
In the meantime, if you are curious as to what trans male privilege looks like, here it is.
1: Trans men are often admitted to women-only spaces where trans women are not.
I'm going to start this one by telling a story. Once upon a time, I had a friend. He was a really great friend - one of the few I had - and we had a lot of good times together. We usually hung out at his house, and usually in his bedroom just because it was private, and all was amazing.
Until one day, when I was told I couldn't go in there anymore. The reason: "No girls allowed."
I was floored. We had been friends for years. Admittedly it was a casual friendship, and I wasn't out at this time, but I assumed that he knew me well enough to know there was no reason to keep me out of his room. I was wrong. It turned out he valued my genitals more than my personhood, more than our relationship, more than our shared experience of hanging out having fun together.
How often does a trans man get excluded from male-only spaces? Not often, but you can bet that when we are we're fit to be tied. After all, it's blatantly obvious that our genitals are being considered more important than our actual right AS MEN to be there. But when a trans woman complains about being excluded from women-only spaces, what happens? Well, I've been party to these kind of discussions, and here's how it plays out: "Huh." "Really?" "I wonder why." "Oh, well, there are trans men working on it, so can we move on to something else?"
There are so many questions that go along with this, like "Why do trans men want into these spaces to begin with?" The answer seems to be either vaginal solidarity, or the fact that we've spent a long time putting up with misogyny owing to our physical appearance. But - and here's the big one - trans women haven't? Just because they started later than you doesn't mean that they're not catching up and fast. The only other reason one could possibly want to keep trans women out of women-only spaces is the one that I demonstrated above - genital paranoia. If the women in your group are that afraid of letting in someone who has or has had a penis, guys, you might start asking yourselves why you are allowed to stick around.
One thing I mentioned in my last post is that trans men are somewhat invisible. We haven't been portrayed as frequently as trans women (though we are catching up.) Which leads me to my next point...
2. When we are portrayed in media, it is usually positive.
When Thomas Beattie got pregnant way back in the day, it was something of a freakshow. OMG PREGANT MAN. WEIRDEST THING EVER. Now suppose the situation was reversed, and a trans lesbian had kept her reproductive organs and temporarily ceased hormone therapy so she could father a child. You know what the reaction would have been?
IT'S A FAAAAKE.
Her womanhood would have been put under intense scrutiny. She would probably have been referred to using her pre-change name, and male pronouns. Her media presence would be "a poor, deluded man who thinks he's a woman but obviously isn't ready to make all the necessary sacrifices."
Why? Because that's the reaction that nearly every trans woman gets. Unless she is post-hormones, post-op, name-change, the full shebang - and sometimes even then - her genetic history is considered more important than how she feels and (most importantly) asks to be addressed. Not that trans men are given a free pass - we get misgendered quite a bit. But we do have one other big advantage:
3. "Trans man" or "FTM crossdresser" is not used as shorthand for "mentally ill."
Take a look at the portrayal of trans men and women who have dressed as men over the years. You've got the standard Crossdresser narrative, employed by Shakespeare, demonstrated by several great women who had to dress as men to overcome oppression, and used recently in cheeky romance stories ("Just One of the Guys" was a favorite of mine). You've got Boys Don't Cry - the FTM edition of the "tragic transsexual" storyline that has been used on trans female characters for years. And lately we have Degrassi's Adam Torres, an extremely well-written and sympathetic character.
Now, we've had a share of floaters (see: The L Word). But look at the film history of trans women and crossdressing men. The Tragic Transsexual has been used in multiple films (such as the film adaptation of I Want What I Want and Breakfast on Pluto). A whole story (Hedwig and the Angry Inch) is dedicated to the unfortunate tale of a man who believes that he needs to transition and ends up regretting it - not a wholly bad premise, but it serves the rather unfortunate effect of implying that trans women do not know why they are and what they need to do. And when we get to crossdressing, there are only two common narratives: the Drag Queen (Priscilla, Queen of the Desert; La Cage Aux Folles, RuPaul's Drag Race, etc.) and the Crossdressing Slasher (Psycho and a few of its brain-babies). Sometimes it's just comic relief (some of Shakespeare's stuff, White Chicks, Mulan). In news media, crossdressing is used like a punchline - "Not only did he break into their house, but he was wearing WOMEN'S CLOTHES! OMG!" This isn't to say that there are no positive portrayals of trans women, either. But there is a glut of terrible ones that does not exist for trans men. (Note: there is no Ticked Off Tranny Boys With Knives.)
Invisibility sucks, but in our case it has certain advantages.
4. The desire to transition to male is compatible with the concept of male superiority.
Try telling a guy that you want to be a woman (if you aren't one already). He'll react with shock, dismay, yadda. Ask him why. Is it because women are inferior? He might say yes. He might say no, it's just that he can't imagine ever wanting to be one.
Try telling a woman that you want to be a guy (if you aren't one already). She'll react with shock, dismay, yadda. But not because being a woman is so great. More likely, because she thinks you're only transitioning so that you don't have to put up with sexist crap.
Are either of these valid reasons to react negatively? OF COURSE NOT. But people will at least understand why you want to be a man. They're "just better." More physical strength. More sex drive (allegedly). More... betterness. Shows like "Man Caves" exist for a reason - manhood is often treated like an exclusive club that women need to be kept out of and that every man should want to be allowed into - womanhood is kind of a consolation prize. This isn't ubiquitous, but it's certainly a pervasive idea. Consequentially, trans men just aren't seen as the same brand of sick fuck as trans women are.
Now for a bit of non-sociology.
5. The most obvious indicators of our hormonal history can often be concealed using clothing.
Testosterone and estrogen work on the body in different ways during endopuberty. Estrogen causes curves, stunts height, inhibits muscle growth, and that kind of thing. Testosterone increases height, causes muscle growth, masculinizes the bone structure in the body and face, deepens the voice, and promotes beard growth.
In other words, most of estrogen's effects are temporary. Most of testosterone's effects are permanent. Furthermore, the effect of estrogen that poses the biggest obstacle to being seen as a man - breasts - can usually be subdued, albeit uncomfortably, using a binder.
On the other hand, trans women who have undergone testosterone puberty may have several factors to deal with. Facial hair must be shaved regularly; any presence of beardliness is seen as masculine. Electrolysis, which is painful and takes several hours over a period of months, is often required just to get it under control. A larger-size skeleton, masculinized facial features, and lower voice are all difficult to hide, and are considered by many cis people to be telltale signs that a woman is trans.
6. Trans men can dress in the clothing of their target sex before they pass without being viewed as perverts or potential criminals.
See point 4.
7. Queer folk prefer masculine women.
This one is brought to you by trans women and basically any femme folks who were born with vaginas.
Let me asplain - I'm not saying that queer people typically think of trans men as women. However, we do benefit from something I will heretofore refer to as "vaginal solidarity." Sure, we're guys, but we're special guys. We're trusted guys. And we're totes butch, so that makes us crazy popular.
On the other hand, femme women (cis or genderqueer) and femme trans women are often viewed as "reinforcing the patriarchy", and therefore not subversive enough to be queer. It's femmephobic bullshit, but there you go.
8. Assuming we pass, we're guys.
There's no mincing around the fact. No, not every trans guy passes. And no, it doesn't grant us full cishetero privilege - we still have to deal with treatment/surgeries, leftover "female" behaviors that lower our credibility, and of course quite a few of us are gay. But it does give us some advantages. Our opinions our valued. Our bodies are not commodified (unless it is found out that we are trans). We are usually read as our desired gender on the Internet. And a bajillion other things.
Now, none of this is to say that trans guys aren't marginalized. We are. For the crime of being trans, for the incidence of being born with vaginas, we are put down by millions of people as freaks and uppity and whatnot else. But we do have some privileges, and we have to acknowledge them if the world is going to become a safe place for all trans people.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Transmisandry
There's been a discussion going on Tranifesto, a blog about trans-ness run by gay trans man Matt Kailey, about antagonism in the white trans community. Specifically, in some circles a rift has developed between the trans women and trans men, and the person who started the discussion was curious why. In the interest of sharing information, I disclosed my own experiences in one community, where such a rift exists, fueled by the misandry of certain trans women there.
Seemingly in partial response to my statements, one commenter left this message:
Maybe this wasn't what xe meant, but what I took from this sentence was "Your problems aren't as important. You need to worry about what trans women are going through more." Well, thanks, dude, but I can't do that. I will be happy to think about male privilege and how that affects my relationship with trans women on both a personal and systemic level, but I will not shut up about transmisandry. As long as it happens to me and my fellow trans men, it has a place on the discussion table as a legitimate social problem that needs to be addressed.
The first point I would like to try and make understood is that the relationship between trans women and trans men is not equal to the relationship between cis women and cis men. Firstly, I will acknowledge that it is a problem when, upon transitioning, we forget what we have been through and what we have learned from our lives as female-bodied creatures and fall into the male role so well that we become oppressors ourselves. Secondly, I will acknowledge that the path of our transition does grant us several privileges (we can dress as our target sex without being looked upon as a pervert, for example - this would be great material for another post). However, trans women also have a few privileges over trans men. The biggest one is that, for better or worse, trans women are visible. When someone thinks of a transgender or transsexual person, they usually think of someone who is MTF. Web sites and books that advertise themselves as "for transgender/transsexual people" often cater to MTF people with little or nothing that is aimed at FTM people. They also have better surgeries than trans men - one can look at the thousands of trans men who go their whole lives without surgery, not because they don't want it or can't afford it but because the results are just not good enough yet, as evidence toward this - and better representation in political circles, at least within the United States.
In MTF-dominated circles, they also have the privilege of committing transmisandry without being called out/chastised for it.
What is transmisandry?
I won't lie on this one: it's a short list. Partially because we don't have the history of being portrayed as perverts and/or murderers. Partially because we often find it easier to pass after hormones (testosterone is powerful stuff.) But it exists, and in the spirit of Tobi Hill-Meyer's What Transmisogyny Looks Like, here are the specs:
Trans women going into trans-male-safe spaces and making comments like "I just can't understand why you would want to give up the body parts that I want so badly."
Trans women going into trans-male-safe spaces specifically to look for potential sex/relationship partners, assuming that we are (1) straight, (2) available, (3) potentially interested in starting a relationship with someone we know next to nothing about (out of trans solidarity, or what? I don't get this one) and (4) welcoming of this kind of intrusion, notwithstanding our other preferences.
In a discussion about gender privilege, trans women using the phrase "trans men" to refer only to trans men who pass fully, discounting my experience as a pre-treatment vagina owner and the experiences of trans men who are regularly mistaken for female. (Refusal to make the distinction = transmisandry.)
Cis women painting trans men as victims of the patriarchy who hate not our female selves, but the very concept and existence of womanhood, in flagrant denial of the many trans men who not only appreciate but celebrate womanhood in women.
The expectation that all trans men will wear baggy clothes, sit with their legs apart, speak in as low a register as possible, monitor their body language vigilantly to keep anything feminine from slipping through, and never express an appreciation of beauty - regardless of our sexual orientation. Not only the belief that we all learn to do this, but the expectation that we will - and should - go to these lengths to prove our masculinity.
The claim, when we do go to these lengths (or come about them naturally), that we are "trying too hard" or "overcompensating."
Conversely, the expectation that trans men will be exactly like cis men in every way that matters, but more empathetic, sensitive to women's problems, etc.
Trans women reverting to female pronouns to address a man whom they have just learned is trans. (When cis people do this, it's transphobia.)
The assumption that the existence of spaces exclusively for trans men is indicative of/caused by transmisogyny.
Transmisandry does not erase transmisogyny. It is not more important than transmisogyny. But it is not "reverse sexism" or some kind of trans male backlash against the concept of transmisogyny. It is something that trans men, including me, deal with on a regular basis. And it has a place in any discussion of trans gender interaction.
Seemingly in partial response to my statements, one commenter left this message:
The other thing I want to say isn’t about race/ethnicity, but I did want to say it. I know that transmisandry happens. But I think that to treat transmisogyny and transmisandry as equal problems is as broken as treating sexism and “reverse sexism” as equal problems. As a trans man married to a trans woman, I see every day how much more privileged I am. The dynamic that exists is one that white trans men have the greatest duty to address.
Maybe this wasn't what xe meant, but what I took from this sentence was "Your problems aren't as important. You need to worry about what trans women are going through more." Well, thanks, dude, but I can't do that. I will be happy to think about male privilege and how that affects my relationship with trans women on both a personal and systemic level, but I will not shut up about transmisandry. As long as it happens to me and my fellow trans men, it has a place on the discussion table as a legitimate social problem that needs to be addressed.
The first point I would like to try and make understood is that the relationship between trans women and trans men is not equal to the relationship between cis women and cis men. Firstly, I will acknowledge that it is a problem when, upon transitioning, we forget what we have been through and what we have learned from our lives as female-bodied creatures and fall into the male role so well that we become oppressors ourselves. Secondly, I will acknowledge that the path of our transition does grant us several privileges (we can dress as our target sex without being looked upon as a pervert, for example - this would be great material for another post). However, trans women also have a few privileges over trans men. The biggest one is that, for better or worse, trans women are visible. When someone thinks of a transgender or transsexual person, they usually think of someone who is MTF. Web sites and books that advertise themselves as "for transgender/transsexual people" often cater to MTF people with little or nothing that is aimed at FTM people. They also have better surgeries than trans men - one can look at the thousands of trans men who go their whole lives without surgery, not because they don't want it or can't afford it but because the results are just not good enough yet, as evidence toward this - and better representation in political circles, at least within the United States.
In MTF-dominated circles, they also have the privilege of committing transmisandry without being called out/chastised for it.
What is transmisandry?
I won't lie on this one: it's a short list. Partially because we don't have the history of being portrayed as perverts and/or murderers. Partially because we often find it easier to pass after hormones (testosterone is powerful stuff.) But it exists, and in the spirit of Tobi Hill-Meyer's What Transmisogyny Looks Like, here are the specs:
Trans women going into trans-male-safe spaces and making comments like "I just can't understand why you would want to give up the body parts that I want so badly."
Trans women going into trans-male-safe spaces specifically to look for potential sex/relationship partners, assuming that we are (1) straight, (2) available, (3) potentially interested in starting a relationship with someone we know next to nothing about (out of trans solidarity, or what? I don't get this one) and (4) welcoming of this kind of intrusion, notwithstanding our other preferences.
In a discussion about gender privilege, trans women using the phrase "trans men" to refer only to trans men who pass fully, discounting my experience as a pre-treatment vagina owner and the experiences of trans men who are regularly mistaken for female. (Refusal to make the distinction = transmisandry.)
Cis women painting trans men as victims of the patriarchy who hate not our female selves, but the very concept and existence of womanhood, in flagrant denial of the many trans men who not only appreciate but celebrate womanhood in women.
The expectation that all trans men will wear baggy clothes, sit with their legs apart, speak in as low a register as possible, monitor their body language vigilantly to keep anything feminine from slipping through, and never express an appreciation of beauty - regardless of our sexual orientation. Not only the belief that we all learn to do this, but the expectation that we will - and should - go to these lengths to prove our masculinity.
The claim, when we do go to these lengths (or come about them naturally), that we are "trying too hard" or "overcompensating."
Conversely, the expectation that trans men will be exactly like cis men in every way that matters, but more empathetic, sensitive to women's problems, etc.
Trans women reverting to female pronouns to address a man whom they have just learned is trans. (When cis people do this, it's transphobia.)
The assumption that the existence of spaces exclusively for trans men is indicative of/caused by transmisogyny.
Transmisandry does not erase transmisogyny. It is not more important than transmisogyny. But it is not "reverse sexism" or some kind of trans male backlash against the concept of transmisogyny. It is something that trans men, including me, deal with on a regular basis. And it has a place in any discussion of trans gender interaction.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Ohio
Saw this on Queer Secrets:
http://queersecrets.tumblr.com/post/1699929687
I'm from one of the other two states.
http://queersecrets.tumblr.com/post/1699929687
I'm from one of the other two states.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
STFU, Joe-Bear
Over at Joe. My. God, literature is on death watch. The reason? "Teen Paranormal Romance" has its own section in a bookstore somewhere.
Really, Joe? REALLY? The proliferation of fantasy stories geared toward teenage girls means the death of all literature? MY GOD, man, how DARE we cater to a reading audience that isn't middle-class adult intellectuals?
Seriously, so what if it isn't stimulating or utterly brilliant or anything other than feel-good kitsch? I may point out at this point that a lot of gay men are known for their utterly irrational attachment to Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand, and/or Lady Gaga, and while I don't necessarily share this affection, I don't go whinging about the death of good music every time I see someone raving about Garland's alleged singing skills.
Some protest that these stories rot girls' brains, but so what? The last time I heard about comic books rotting kids' brains was... oh, never. It's always the romance stories that get singled out for criticism. People just have an allergic reaction to romantic literature, especially if it has a fantastic angle.
Now, if someone wants to complain about the stories setting unrealistic expectations, we might be able to get somewhere, but otherwise, STFU.
And then there's the other problem, summed up by one commenter:
It's not dead. It's never been dead; it'll never be dead. It's just tricky to find, as it's always been.
Really, Joe? REALLY? The proliferation of fantasy stories geared toward teenage girls means the death of all literature? MY GOD, man, how DARE we cater to a reading audience that isn't middle-class adult intellectuals?
Seriously, so what if it isn't stimulating or utterly brilliant or anything other than feel-good kitsch? I may point out at this point that a lot of gay men are known for their utterly irrational attachment to Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand, and/or Lady Gaga, and while I don't necessarily share this affection, I don't go whinging about the death of good music every time I see someone raving about Garland's alleged singing skills.
Some protest that these stories rot girls' brains, but so what? The last time I heard about comic books rotting kids' brains was... oh, never. It's always the romance stories that get singled out for criticism. People just have an allergic reaction to romantic literature, especially if it has a fantastic angle.
Now, if someone wants to complain about the stories setting unrealistic expectations, we might be able to get somewhere, but otherwise, STFU.
And then there's the other problem, summed up by one commenter:
"Literature Death Watch" So says every generation once it reaches a "certain age." I'm sure newspaper editorials said the same thing when Jackie Collins started to get published. She and her ilk didn't destroy lit and I don't think the Twilight novels will either.Ex-fucking-actly. Schlock writing has been around ever since writing became a pastime available to multiple people. When people look back and see only the classics, it's not because every book ever written was gold. It's because all the crap that it was published alongside has been forgotten. Just like the bad writing that's being published now will be forgotten in another decade - just in time for someone to look at all the new garbage being published and declare that true literature is dead. They do the same shit with movies, and music, and every form of media we've had around long enough for some true classics to emerge.
It's not dead. It's never been dead; it'll never be dead. It's just tricky to find, as it's always been.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Not Ever.
I just saw this video over at The Curvature (the link to which came from Yes Means Yes - both feminist blogs, both worth reading) and wanted to share it. I can't embed it, so see it at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h95-IL3C-Z8
If you don't want to watch a 30-second clip (or just have a really crappy connection), here's the summary: A young woman, wearing a short, blue, sequined-covered skirt, is talking to a man at a bar. The man turns to his friend and says "Check out that skirt! She's asking for it." Cut to the store earlier that day, where the woman tells the sales assistant, "I'm going out tonight, and I want to get raped. I need a skirt that will encourage a guy to have sex with me against my will." She picks the blue skirt, then looks at the camera and says "As if." Cut to a screen of the skirt with a voice-over saying, "Nobody asks to be raped. Ever."
Ever.
A woman who wants to reveal part of her body is not "asking for it." Even if you can see down her chest. Even if you get a glimpse of her ass if she bends over. Is she dressing to tantalize? Maybe. (Maybe she's just dressing for comfort.) But I can guarantee you she's not dressing to get raped. Maybe she's dressing to attract some consensual sex from the right guy. Maybe she's just dressing to make herself feel sexy. She is not dressing to get raped.
A woman who goes out at night, alone, is not "asking for it." She is taking a risk. Getting into a car to go into town is not "asking" to get into a horrible wreck; putting a sign outside your business announcing that you have rare jewels for sale is not "asking" to be robbed. Do these actions make bad things more likely to happen to you? YES. Is that the fault of the person doing them?
No. GOD, no.
People have this perverse urge to protect and control and railroad women into fitting this preset mold. And don't try to tell me it isn't true. I've heard people going on about "gallant" men who rush to the aid of a woman in need; "chivalrous" male children who insist that they must hold a door open for every woman they come across. This is neither chivalry or gallantry. This is sexism. Saying that a woman's rape has anything to do with the outfit she was wearing at the time is bullshit - and if you don't believe me, imagine for a minute what would happen if a man was dressed "provocatively" and raped by a woman. We'd say that was bullshit; that it had nothing to do with his clothing and everything to do with a woman who couldn't keep her filthy whore hands to herself. Why don't we have the same standard for the other direction? Women know we need them.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h95-IL3C-Z8
If you don't want to watch a 30-second clip (or just have a really crappy connection), here's the summary: A young woman, wearing a short, blue, sequined-covered skirt, is talking to a man at a bar. The man turns to his friend and says "Check out that skirt! She's asking for it." Cut to the store earlier that day, where the woman tells the sales assistant, "I'm going out tonight, and I want to get raped. I need a skirt that will encourage a guy to have sex with me against my will." She picks the blue skirt, then looks at the camera and says "As if." Cut to a screen of the skirt with a voice-over saying, "Nobody asks to be raped. Ever."
Ever.
A woman who wants to reveal part of her body is not "asking for it." Even if you can see down her chest. Even if you get a glimpse of her ass if she bends over. Is she dressing to tantalize? Maybe. (Maybe she's just dressing for comfort.) But I can guarantee you she's not dressing to get raped. Maybe she's dressing to attract some consensual sex from the right guy. Maybe she's just dressing to make herself feel sexy. She is not dressing to get raped.
A woman who goes out at night, alone, is not "asking for it." She is taking a risk. Getting into a car to go into town is not "asking" to get into a horrible wreck; putting a sign outside your business announcing that you have rare jewels for sale is not "asking" to be robbed. Do these actions make bad things more likely to happen to you? YES. Is that the fault of the person doing them?
No. GOD, no.
People have this perverse urge to protect and control and railroad women into fitting this preset mold. And don't try to tell me it isn't true. I've heard people going on about "gallant" men who rush to the aid of a woman in need; "chivalrous" male children who insist that they must hold a door open for every woman they come across. This is neither chivalry or gallantry. This is sexism. Saying that a woman's rape has anything to do with the outfit she was wearing at the time is bullshit - and if you don't believe me, imagine for a minute what would happen if a man was dressed "provocatively" and raped by a woman. We'd say that was bullshit; that it had nothing to do with his clothing and everything to do with a woman who couldn't keep her filthy whore hands to herself. Why don't we have the same standard for the other direction? Women know we need them.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
I Am Invisible
I am invisible.
I usually don't realize that because I spend a lot of time hanging around transgender-safe message boards, but the fact is: I am invisible. When people talk about atheists, even though they don't specify, they are thinking of cisgendered atheists. When people talk about gays and lesbians, even though they don't specify, they are thinking of cisgendered atheists. Men means cisgendered men. LGBT means L, G, sometimes B, and those other weirdoes we heard were out there. Transgendered people are invisible.
Obviously there are some people out there who know we exist - shows such as Family Guy, The L Word, Coronation Street, and Degrassi have had transgendered characters. The film The World According To Garp has an excellent portrayal of a trans woman, and there are other movies that are just about us. But to the majority of people, we do not exist - or exist only in a theory so abstract that we may not exist at all.
I know. I used to be one of those people.
For the first eighteen years of life, I either didn't know about transgendered/transsexual people, or what I knew was very abstract: sometimes there were boys that felt like they should be girls, and underwent treatments to become girls, and often their parents kicked them out of their homes and they ended up homeless and/or addicted to drugs but sometimes they turned out okay. I'd heard somewhere about FTM's (courtesy of my mum, actually) but it never sunk in for me. Why? Because I didn't know anyone who is transgendered. I didn't know anyone who knew anyone who was transgendered. I'd never bumped into a transgendered person on the Internet, and when I did, I didn't spend a lot of time with him. My mother was on the site, watching my every move, and she didn't approve of his "lesbianism." Plus I think I was afraid that if I told the forumites that I felt similarly I'd be laughed at. You can't be a "gay man in a woman's body," after all. You can only be a straight woman. But I digress. Naturally, I never thought to include trans people in any of my writing or correspondence or anything.
This is the mindset that prevents trans people from getting their rights. Someone introduces a piece of legislation that covers trans people (or gays, or POC, or atheists, or whatever), and you think that since you don't know (or like) anyone who will be affected, it isn't important. So you let it slide.
People can't live like this. You can't go on holding in your minds that transsexual people don't exist, or there are too few of us to count. There are never too few of us to count. This is something that I didn't truly understand until I became a member of two of the least regarded minorities in the United States of America, and looking back I am ashamed to think that I once thought differently. Here is what I didn't realize: The majority, or the average if you will, does not equal the default. There is no default for the human condition. I am not a cisgendered white male unless I specify otherwise. It's not easy to remember this, with our parents, teachers, peers, and the media convincing us that diversity equals deviance. Society is not a dichotomy between white males and everyone else. It is a complex mosaic of people. Some of them are descended from Europeans, some from Africans, some from Asians, some from Eurasians, some from Americans, some from European-Asians, some from African-Caribbeans, some from people of many different continents. Some of us are Christian, some are Hindu, some are Jewish, some are Muslim, some are Jedi. Some used to be religious but aren't anymore. Some were never religious at all. Some are close to six feet tall and others are closer to three. Some are HIV-positive, some have cancer, some have diabetes or syphilis or angina or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or missing organs and some have no outstanding health problems at all. Some are organ donors; some aren't. Some are female, some are male, some are intersexed. Some are cis, some are trans, some are genderqueer. Some are bisexual, some are straight, some are gay, some are pansexual, and some are one or the other but willing to experiment. Some of us have very little money, some of us have a lot; some of us just have what we need to get by comfortably. Some of us live in the cities. Many of us live outside of them. Some of us love only one person at the same time, but some love more. Some of us masturbate. Some of us don't. Some of us do and lie about it. Some of us promise our parents that we'll never have sexual intercourse until we find the one we'll be with for the rest of our lives. Some of us wouldn't have found the one we'll be with for the rest of our lives unless we had sexual intercourse first. Some of us love feet. Some of us hate feet. Some of us couldn't care less about feet. Everything about you is part of your identity, and it is no less diverse, beautiful, and strange than that of someone whose traits are less common than yours. And here's the thing: every trait about that person, to the extent that it does not harm another person, deserves to exist and be respected and protected by human law. If your identities are protected, and you can't find the time to make sure others have the same courtesy, then you don't deserve the protection you have.
I usually don't realize that because I spend a lot of time hanging around transgender-safe message boards, but the fact is: I am invisible. When people talk about atheists, even though they don't specify, they are thinking of cisgendered atheists. When people talk about gays and lesbians, even though they don't specify, they are thinking of cisgendered atheists. Men means cisgendered men. LGBT means L, G, sometimes B, and those other weirdoes we heard were out there. Transgendered people are invisible.
Obviously there are some people out there who know we exist - shows such as Family Guy, The L Word, Coronation Street, and Degrassi have had transgendered characters. The film The World According To Garp has an excellent portrayal of a trans woman, and there are other movies that are just about us. But to the majority of people, we do not exist - or exist only in a theory so abstract that we may not exist at all.
I know. I used to be one of those people.
For the first eighteen years of life, I either didn't know about transgendered/transsexual people, or what I knew was very abstract: sometimes there were boys that felt like they should be girls, and underwent treatments to become girls, and often their parents kicked them out of their homes and they ended up homeless and/or addicted to drugs but sometimes they turned out okay. I'd heard somewhere about FTM's (courtesy of my mum, actually) but it never sunk in for me. Why? Because I didn't know anyone who is transgendered. I didn't know anyone who knew anyone who was transgendered. I'd never bumped into a transgendered person on the Internet, and when I did, I didn't spend a lot of time with him. My mother was on the site, watching my every move, and she didn't approve of his "lesbianism." Plus I think I was afraid that if I told the forumites that I felt similarly I'd be laughed at. You can't be a "gay man in a woman's body," after all. You can only be a straight woman. But I digress. Naturally, I never thought to include trans people in any of my writing or correspondence or anything.
This is the mindset that prevents trans people from getting their rights. Someone introduces a piece of legislation that covers trans people (or gays, or POC, or atheists, or whatever), and you think that since you don't know (or like) anyone who will be affected, it isn't important. So you let it slide.
People can't live like this. You can't go on holding in your minds that transsexual people don't exist, or there are too few of us to count. There are never too few of us to count. This is something that I didn't truly understand until I became a member of two of the least regarded minorities in the United States of America, and looking back I am ashamed to think that I once thought differently. Here is what I didn't realize: The majority, or the average if you will, does not equal the default. There is no default for the human condition. I am not a cisgendered white male unless I specify otherwise. It's not easy to remember this, with our parents, teachers, peers, and the media convincing us that diversity equals deviance. Society is not a dichotomy between white males and everyone else. It is a complex mosaic of people. Some of them are descended from Europeans, some from Africans, some from Asians, some from Eurasians, some from Americans, some from European-Asians, some from African-Caribbeans, some from people of many different continents. Some of us are Christian, some are Hindu, some are Jewish, some are Muslim, some are Jedi. Some used to be religious but aren't anymore. Some were never religious at all. Some are close to six feet tall and others are closer to three. Some are HIV-positive, some have cancer, some have diabetes or syphilis or angina or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or missing organs and some have no outstanding health problems at all. Some are organ donors; some aren't. Some are female, some are male, some are intersexed. Some are cis, some are trans, some are genderqueer. Some are bisexual, some are straight, some are gay, some are pansexual, and some are one or the other but willing to experiment. Some of us have very little money, some of us have a lot; some of us just have what we need to get by comfortably. Some of us live in the cities. Many of us live outside of them. Some of us love only one person at the same time, but some love more. Some of us masturbate. Some of us don't. Some of us do and lie about it. Some of us promise our parents that we'll never have sexual intercourse until we find the one we'll be with for the rest of our lives. Some of us wouldn't have found the one we'll be with for the rest of our lives unless we had sexual intercourse first. Some of us love feet. Some of us hate feet. Some of us couldn't care less about feet. Everything about you is part of your identity, and it is no less diverse, beautiful, and strange than that of someone whose traits are less common than yours. And here's the thing: every trait about that person, to the extent that it does not harm another person, deserves to exist and be respected and protected by human law. If your identities are protected, and you can't find the time to make sure others have the same courtesy, then you don't deserve the protection you have.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Skip This One: It's A Boy Girl Thing
Being a trans guy, I'm into genderflip movies. It's just one of those things, like gay men being into gay male movies, kids being into movies about teenagers, and the entire film industry being obsessed with movies about white people. (One of these is not okay, but that's been covered by much more qualified writers than I.) Basically, I like these movies because some small part of them reflects the kind of things I go through, or would like to go through. I also watch them just for a laugh, because hey - nobody's serious all the time, not even the super serious trans man.
This one, though, can be skipped.
It's A Boy Girl Thing is a (SPOILERS!) romantic comedy about two white teenagers of opposite sexes. Nell, the girl, is fairly well-off. She's educated, well-mannered, nicely dressed, and hoping to get into Yale University. Woody, the boy (nice name, eh?), comes from a working-class family. His clothes are worn out, his manners are lacking, and his mom can't cook very well. He'll be lucky if he gets into any university.
Nell and Woody hate each other with a passion. So much that they get into a fight in a museum, which awakens the statue of an ancient god (for serious), who does some magical mist-fu that causes them to switch bodies. I will admit, this part of the movie is actually pretty entertaining. Aside from a couple of blunders, the two actors playing the roles do so very well, and the jokes are mostly funny. (Very raunchy, but funny.) The film does an average job of subverting gender roles, in that the characters do learn to appreciate each others' hobbies, but the male is still such a dunce that he can only learn to appreciate something that he already appreciates. Long story. The movie also comes down a little bit on classism, and has a bit in support of rap music, which is nice.
Those are the redeeming qualities. Now for the bad stuff.
First of all, the film just misses its mark. It's supposed to be about the differences between boys and girls (or so one would assume, based on the title), but it's as much, if not more, about the differences between class levels. It's entertaining, but it doesn't fit the title. Another gripe of mine - minor, I will admit - is that the setting of the film is a little too reminiscent of The Fantasticks. The two live right next to each other, she in a nice house with a neat lawn, he in a shabby house with a filthy yard, and while the families are presumably locked into feud, secretly their fathers would like nothing better than to see them together.
Those are just infractions - things that are a little annoying, but don't really ruin the movie for me. No, what really gets me is the bigotry. While the film fights gender roles and class divides with one hand, with the other it dispenses racism, homophobia, and slut shaming in the traditional "I'm not really bigoted" way that white cinema tends to do.
First of all, let's look at the racism. There are exactly two characters of color in this film (neither of which are the protagonists, naturally). One of them is a randy, apelike, teenaged black boy who is obsessed with sex to the point that he cheats on his white girlfriend regularly. The other one has very little character, but is a motorcycle-driving Latino who will have sex with any girl on campus at the drop of a hat, and comes dangerously close to destroying Nell's virginity (except he doesn't - more on that later). Of course the filmmakers didn't intend the film to be racist, but when the only lesson we learn is that teenaged boys of color are all sex machines who will cheat on/destroy the innocence of your white daughters, guess what I call it. Yup.
Also, it is implied throughout the film that the black character is extremely well-endowed, which never fails to catch the attention of the characters who get an eyeful of his junk. 'Cause all black guys have big penises, get it?
Now the homophobia. This is mostly character-driven, in a scene where Woody (in Nell's body) attempts to have sex with the aforementioned Latino, only to realize at the last minute that it's a terrible idea because he's not into guys. That's not bad. In fact, it was a great idea. But then he starts going on: "This is so gay! He's gonna make me his bitch!" He's more worried about having a "gay" experience - which he is certain will be demeaning and disgusting - than he is about having sex with someone that he's not into.
Just in case you thought this was just a character thing and had no bearing on the writers' views: first, no effort is made to contradict Woody's opinions, and secondly, it happens again, at the end of the movie. The aforementioned black character, having been dumped and thoroughly humiliated by his girlfriend, finds himself naked at a party, in front of a gay man who is obviously impressed with his super-sized black junk. Lesson #2: Don't cheat on your girlfriend, or else the gays will come after you. And while you might not think that's a bad thing, the filmmakers obviously believe that it would be gross and embarrassing.
After those two whoppers, this one is more of a footnote. See, there isn't actual slut shaming in this movie per se, but its effects are quite visible. Nell, trapped in Woody's body, is thoroughly convinced that her hymen is her virginity, and that if Woody in Nell's body has sex, that means that Nell is no longer a virgin. This would be horrible, because she was saving her first time for someone special. While there's nothing wrong with Nell's desire to wait for her first sexual experience, there is something hugely wrong with her assumption. Regardless of whose hymen is abused, if Woody had gone through with his plan, all it would mean is that Woody had sex that night. Nell wasn't there, she didn't have sex, she's still a virgin, end of discussion. And again, the movie does nothing to counteract this idea.
So, that's it in a nutshell. You might think that these things are minor - after all, nobody is going to watch one movie and think "Well, gee, I guess all boys of color are bad and gay sex is disgusting!" Can't I just forget the bad parts and enjoy the movie?
Well, no. Because the bad parts are in the movie. And people are going to watch this film and come away with a niggling subconscious idea that white boys, like the eventually honorable Woody, are better potential mates than boys of color, just because this movie showed it. A conscious knowledge to the contrary cannot completely overcome a subconscious suspicion. And this movie offers way too many of them for comfort.
This one, though, can be skipped.
It's A Boy Girl Thing is a (SPOILERS!) romantic comedy about two white teenagers of opposite sexes. Nell, the girl, is fairly well-off. She's educated, well-mannered, nicely dressed, and hoping to get into Yale University. Woody, the boy (nice name, eh?), comes from a working-class family. His clothes are worn out, his manners are lacking, and his mom can't cook very well. He'll be lucky if he gets into any university.
Nell and Woody hate each other with a passion. So much that they get into a fight in a museum, which awakens the statue of an ancient god (for serious), who does some magical mist-fu that causes them to switch bodies. I will admit, this part of the movie is actually pretty entertaining. Aside from a couple of blunders, the two actors playing the roles do so very well, and the jokes are mostly funny. (Very raunchy, but funny.) The film does an average job of subverting gender roles, in that the characters do learn to appreciate each others' hobbies, but the male is still such a dunce that he can only learn to appreciate something that he already appreciates. Long story. The movie also comes down a little bit on classism, and has a bit in support of rap music, which is nice.
Those are the redeeming qualities. Now for the bad stuff.
First of all, the film just misses its mark. It's supposed to be about the differences between boys and girls (or so one would assume, based on the title), but it's as much, if not more, about the differences between class levels. It's entertaining, but it doesn't fit the title. Another gripe of mine - minor, I will admit - is that the setting of the film is a little too reminiscent of The Fantasticks. The two live right next to each other, she in a nice house with a neat lawn, he in a shabby house with a filthy yard, and while the families are presumably locked into feud, secretly their fathers would like nothing better than to see them together.
Those are just infractions - things that are a little annoying, but don't really ruin the movie for me. No, what really gets me is the bigotry. While the film fights gender roles and class divides with one hand, with the other it dispenses racism, homophobia, and slut shaming in the traditional "I'm not really bigoted" way that white cinema tends to do.
First of all, let's look at the racism. There are exactly two characters of color in this film (neither of which are the protagonists, naturally). One of them is a randy, apelike, teenaged black boy who is obsessed with sex to the point that he cheats on his white girlfriend regularly. The other one has very little character, but is a motorcycle-driving Latino who will have sex with any girl on campus at the drop of a hat, and comes dangerously close to destroying Nell's virginity (except he doesn't - more on that later). Of course the filmmakers didn't intend the film to be racist, but when the only lesson we learn is that teenaged boys of color are all sex machines who will cheat on/destroy the innocence of your white daughters, guess what I call it. Yup.
Also, it is implied throughout the film that the black character is extremely well-endowed, which never fails to catch the attention of the characters who get an eyeful of his junk. 'Cause all black guys have big penises, get it?
Now the homophobia. This is mostly character-driven, in a scene where Woody (in Nell's body) attempts to have sex with the aforementioned Latino, only to realize at the last minute that it's a terrible idea because he's not into guys. That's not bad. In fact, it was a great idea. But then he starts going on: "This is so gay! He's gonna make me his bitch!" He's more worried about having a "gay" experience - which he is certain will be demeaning and disgusting - than he is about having sex with someone that he's not into.
Just in case you thought this was just a character thing and had no bearing on the writers' views: first, no effort is made to contradict Woody's opinions, and secondly, it happens again, at the end of the movie. The aforementioned black character, having been dumped and thoroughly humiliated by his girlfriend, finds himself naked at a party, in front of a gay man who is obviously impressed with his super-sized black junk. Lesson #2: Don't cheat on your girlfriend, or else the gays will come after you. And while you might not think that's a bad thing, the filmmakers obviously believe that it would be gross and embarrassing.
After those two whoppers, this one is more of a footnote. See, there isn't actual slut shaming in this movie per se, but its effects are quite visible. Nell, trapped in Woody's body, is thoroughly convinced that her hymen is her virginity, and that if Woody in Nell's body has sex, that means that Nell is no longer a virgin. This would be horrible, because she was saving her first time for someone special. While there's nothing wrong with Nell's desire to wait for her first sexual experience, there is something hugely wrong with her assumption. Regardless of whose hymen is abused, if Woody had gone through with his plan, all it would mean is that Woody had sex that night. Nell wasn't there, she didn't have sex, she's still a virgin, end of discussion. And again, the movie does nothing to counteract this idea.
So, that's it in a nutshell. You might think that these things are minor - after all, nobody is going to watch one movie and think "Well, gee, I guess all boys of color are bad and gay sex is disgusting!" Can't I just forget the bad parts and enjoy the movie?
Well, no. Because the bad parts are in the movie. And people are going to watch this film and come away with a niggling subconscious idea that white boys, like the eventually honorable Woody, are better potential mates than boys of color, just because this movie showed it. A conscious knowledge to the contrary cannot completely overcome a subconscious suspicion. And this movie offers way too many of them for comfort.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Brush that hair!
I've been reading about hair lately. Mainly black hair (and other types of curly hair), and the ways which white society declares it to be inferior to straighter hair because it cannot be "tamed" (read: made to lie flat). Some good posts on this subject include Nappy Hair in the Jolie-Pitt World at Womanist Musings (focuses on black hair) and Hair Stories Redux at Justine Larbalestier (a broader look at "other" hair in general). Anyway, it got me thinking about what I've been through with my own hair.
I don't have black hair, or even curly hair, so I can't say whether or not any of my experiences are comparable to people with other kinds of hair - though I can say with certainty that some of them aren't. But here goes.
As far as hair goes, I actually scored pretty high in the hierarchy. My hair is long, wavy, and golden-blonde. From the time I was three years old I heard nothing but good things from my mother about how beautiful my hair was, even prettier than my sister's because it had "body." Mother was incredibly protective of my hair (both mine and my sister's, actually). Most of the time it was locked into a braid, protected from the hair-mussing activities of a couple of young kids. Once a week she would let it down and brush it out.
Before I go on, I need to explain one thing about my mother: she is incredibly ignorant, clueless, and self-centered. She cannot comprehend the existence of any experience that is not basically identical to what she has gone through, and she thinks that she can fix anyone's problems by giving them the solution that worked for her. Have I mentioned my mother is pink-skinned?
After a while she stopped braiding, and my hair would get tangled rather worse. Well, okay, no biggie. It was harder to brush and yadda, but she was oh-so-careful and tried to be as gentle as possible, so if either my sister or I complained, then we were obviously overreacting. She couldn't seem to comprehend that the results of her actions might be different from her intent - but then, she never was good at being "gentle." (There's another post in that.) She'd sink the brush into a tangle and pull down, and most of the pressure would go straight to my scalp. As soon as I complained I'd be reassured that "it's not that bad," which she obviously knew because I was the one being brushed.
Anyway.
Later on she turned hair care over to me, and that's when the problems started. See, my mother's a flat-head. Her hair is straight and lies down perfectly, so she thinks that all straight hair should do that and if it doesn't then it's a failure on the owner's part. Well, my hair is poofy (the aforementioned "body"). When it's properly clean, it floats around my head and will not lie flat unless I really put the effort (read: abuse and/or water) into it. Which I don't want to do, because my fluffy hair has personality, and I like it that way. But my mother is convinced that it denotes a lack of hygiene, and unless it's perfectly flat, she accuses me of not brushing my hair.
The only way I can get it to do what she wants is to let a day or so of oil build up in it, and then it's time for a shower, you scumbag. (She has something of a hygiene obsession, which could make another post.)
The flip side of the coin is that when you have "perfect" hair (luscious, full, wavy, blonde hair - see also mine), you're expected to love it. You should count it as one of your assets, and treat it like your most prized possession. You should brush it obsessively, condition it, put pretty things in it, and otherwise make it into a showpiece for everyone else because it's just so nice to look at. Obviously this isn't on the same level as telling someone they should hate/change their hair because it's "bad," but it's damaging in its own right - especially for a FTM who couldn't care less if he has traditionally attractive female locks.
I don't have black hair, or even curly hair, so I can't say whether or not any of my experiences are comparable to people with other kinds of hair - though I can say with certainty that some of them aren't. But here goes.
As far as hair goes, I actually scored pretty high in the hierarchy. My hair is long, wavy, and golden-blonde. From the time I was three years old I heard nothing but good things from my mother about how beautiful my hair was, even prettier than my sister's because it had "body." Mother was incredibly protective of my hair (both mine and my sister's, actually). Most of the time it was locked into a braid, protected from the hair-mussing activities of a couple of young kids. Once a week she would let it down and brush it out.
Before I go on, I need to explain one thing about my mother: she is incredibly ignorant, clueless, and self-centered. She cannot comprehend the existence of any experience that is not basically identical to what she has gone through, and she thinks that she can fix anyone's problems by giving them the solution that worked for her. Have I mentioned my mother is pink-skinned?
After a while she stopped braiding, and my hair would get tangled rather worse. Well, okay, no biggie. It was harder to brush and yadda, but she was oh-so-careful and tried to be as gentle as possible, so if either my sister or I complained, then we were obviously overreacting. She couldn't seem to comprehend that the results of her actions might be different from her intent - but then, she never was good at being "gentle." (There's another post in that.) She'd sink the brush into a tangle and pull down, and most of the pressure would go straight to my scalp. As soon as I complained I'd be reassured that "it's not that bad," which she obviously knew because I was the one being brushed.
Anyway.
Later on she turned hair care over to me, and that's when the problems started. See, my mother's a flat-head. Her hair is straight and lies down perfectly, so she thinks that all straight hair should do that and if it doesn't then it's a failure on the owner's part. Well, my hair is poofy (the aforementioned "body"). When it's properly clean, it floats around my head and will not lie flat unless I really put the effort (read: abuse and/or water) into it. Which I don't want to do, because my fluffy hair has personality, and I like it that way. But my mother is convinced that it denotes a lack of hygiene, and unless it's perfectly flat, she accuses me of not brushing my hair.
The only way I can get it to do what she wants is to let a day or so of oil build up in it, and then it's time for a shower, you scumbag. (She has something of a hygiene obsession, which could make another post.)
The flip side of the coin is that when you have "perfect" hair (luscious, full, wavy, blonde hair - see also mine), you're expected to love it. You should count it as one of your assets, and treat it like your most prized possession. You should brush it obsessively, condition it, put pretty things in it, and otherwise make it into a showpiece for everyone else because it's just so nice to look at. Obviously this isn't on the same level as telling someone they should hate/change their hair because it's "bad," but it's damaging in its own right - especially for a FTM who couldn't care less if he has traditionally attractive female locks.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Trans Man: The Teenage Years
Midway through puberty, my voice started cracking.
I wasn't sure what happened at first. I'd be in the middle of a sentence and suddenly the sound wouldn't come out right. My voice would switch tones abruptly, or refuse to make a sound at all, usually in the space of a second or so. I'd try to clear my throat, but it never really worked.
And then my voice dropped. I mean, seriously dropped. I'd gotten used to speaking in a nice, feminine child's tone, and suddenly I didn't recognize the sound that was coming out of my mouth. It never dropped below an acceptable female level, and nobody else noticed, but you can bet I was self-conscious about it. See, my mum had told me about puberty; she'd told me that girls' voices changed but that they didn't crack like boys' did. There were so many ways to interpret that statement that I was sure that I had violated a rule of girls' puberty somewhere.
The main problem with this story is that there are three different ways that it can end, all of which are pertinent to my life story, so I feel that I should include them all.
1: Deeply embarrassed by my lower voice, and not wanting to be seen as any more unfeminine than I already was, I started forcing my voice into a higher register - especially when talking to my parents. It wasn't hard or miserable or anything, but it still hasn't become natural for me.
2: The sudden drop in my voice got me wondering if there was something off with my body. I already had a few of the other classic symptoms - male tendencies, mainly - but this was my first real clue. Though I later found out that it wasn't unheard of for girls' voices to crack (though it was unusual), the beard hairs that came in later confirmed a hormone imbalance.
2a: I had very mixed feelings about the whole thing. I was feeling a lot of pressure to be feminine, both overt (my mother telling me how to attract boys) and subtle (my mother constantly criticizing my aunt and her lesbian lover for being unfeminine). On the other hand, there was a feeling - more a primal urge than a voice - that latched on to every masculine aspect of my puberty as "correct." Ergo, not only did I have to wonder why my body was doing this, but I had to deal with the feelings that came with it - that strange feeling of bitter gratitude, of disbelief that this could actually be happening and a deep desire, against all reason, to embrace it.
2b: Equally as confusing was the pattern that I was starting to see in myself. I'd always known myself to be a nonconformist, sure, but suddenly I realized there was a pattern to my nonconformity. I liked boys - and not just in a romantic sense; I wanted to spend time with them, talk with them, do the things they did and just generally hang out like guys would. I liked boys' clothes, and had always favored them over girls'. (When I watched Smallville, I spent a large part of my time ogling Tom Welling's wardrobe.) I sat like a guy, which had always irritated my mother (who wanted me to be ladylike, and didn't understand the need to accommodate imaginary genitals or large thighs). There was no ignoring it - I consistently leaned toward the masculine.
As all of this stuff hit me at once, I had exactly one question: Why the hell wasn't I a lesbian?
I wasn't sure what happened at first. I'd be in the middle of a sentence and suddenly the sound wouldn't come out right. My voice would switch tones abruptly, or refuse to make a sound at all, usually in the space of a second or so. I'd try to clear my throat, but it never really worked.
And then my voice dropped. I mean, seriously dropped. I'd gotten used to speaking in a nice, feminine child's tone, and suddenly I didn't recognize the sound that was coming out of my mouth. It never dropped below an acceptable female level, and nobody else noticed, but you can bet I was self-conscious about it. See, my mum had told me about puberty; she'd told me that girls' voices changed but that they didn't crack like boys' did. There were so many ways to interpret that statement that I was sure that I had violated a rule of girls' puberty somewhere.
The main problem with this story is that there are three different ways that it can end, all of which are pertinent to my life story, so I feel that I should include them all.
1: Deeply embarrassed by my lower voice, and not wanting to be seen as any more unfeminine than I already was, I started forcing my voice into a higher register - especially when talking to my parents. It wasn't hard or miserable or anything, but it still hasn't become natural for me.
2: The sudden drop in my voice got me wondering if there was something off with my body. I already had a few of the other classic symptoms - male tendencies, mainly - but this was my first real clue. Though I later found out that it wasn't unheard of for girls' voices to crack (though it was unusual), the beard hairs that came in later confirmed a hormone imbalance.
2a: I had very mixed feelings about the whole thing. I was feeling a lot of pressure to be feminine, both overt (my mother telling me how to attract boys) and subtle (my mother constantly criticizing my aunt and her lesbian lover for being unfeminine). On the other hand, there was a feeling - more a primal urge than a voice - that latched on to every masculine aspect of my puberty as "correct." Ergo, not only did I have to wonder why my body was doing this, but I had to deal with the feelings that came with it - that strange feeling of bitter gratitude, of disbelief that this could actually be happening and a deep desire, against all reason, to embrace it.
2b: Equally as confusing was the pattern that I was starting to see in myself. I'd always known myself to be a nonconformist, sure, but suddenly I realized there was a pattern to my nonconformity. I liked boys - and not just in a romantic sense; I wanted to spend time with them, talk with them, do the things they did and just generally hang out like guys would. I liked boys' clothes, and had always favored them over girls'. (When I watched Smallville, I spent a large part of my time ogling Tom Welling's wardrobe.) I sat like a guy, which had always irritated my mother (who wanted me to be ladylike, and didn't understand the need to accommodate imaginary genitals or large thighs). There was no ignoring it - I consistently leaned toward the masculine.
As all of this stuff hit me at once, I had exactly one question: Why the hell wasn't I a lesbian?
Friday, June 4, 2010
One of the Girls
A little while ago, my mum was talking to my dad about a household chore. After a bit, my mum said "One of the girls can do it."
That's how I've been referred to pretty much my entire life. Unless someone specifically wants something from me, I'm just "one of the girls." My sister and I are, for most intents and purposes, completely interchangeable. After all, we've both got boobs and vaginas.
This is what it's like growing up in a Christian household where gender roles are just that rigid. Regardless of what you do when you grow up, as a child you are supposed to go through the entire girl routine: wear a dress to church, grow your hair out long, learn how to cook and clean and keep up a house, and otherwise be completely indistinguishable from the other girls in your family. Whenever someone outside of the family wants something from me or my sister, they ask for "one of the girls." They never ask for "one of the kids;" they either want either one of us or our brother specifically. If they want all of us, we're "(brother's name) and the girls."
I don't think anyone here realizes how demoralizing and dehumanizing that is. To assume that I and my sister are interchangeable because we have the same body parts is to completely discount our entire identities. We have different personalities, different ambitions, and different skillsets. Asking for "one of the girls" is like going to buy a new car and asking for "a sedan." We might look similar on the road, but we're sure as Hell not going to handle the same.
That's how I've been referred to pretty much my entire life. Unless someone specifically wants something from me, I'm just "one of the girls." My sister and I are, for most intents and purposes, completely interchangeable. After all, we've both got boobs and vaginas.
This is what it's like growing up in a Christian household where gender roles are just that rigid. Regardless of what you do when you grow up, as a child you are supposed to go through the entire girl routine: wear a dress to church, grow your hair out long, learn how to cook and clean and keep up a house, and otherwise be completely indistinguishable from the other girls in your family. Whenever someone outside of the family wants something from me or my sister, they ask for "one of the girls." They never ask for "one of the kids;" they either want either one of us or our brother specifically. If they want all of us, we're "(brother's name) and the girls."
I don't think anyone here realizes how demoralizing and dehumanizing that is. To assume that I and my sister are interchangeable because we have the same body parts is to completely discount our entire identities. We have different personalities, different ambitions, and different skillsets. Asking for "one of the girls" is like going to buy a new car and asking for "a sedan." We might look similar on the road, but we're sure as Hell not going to handle the same.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Introduction
Hello, my name is William, and I am here to talk about labels. I know I bear a ton of them: human, white, blonde, European-descended, fair-skinned, able-bodied, female, daughter, sister, low-class, obese, transgendered, FTM, male, brother, pansexual, part-time crossdresser, in the closet, blogger (as of now), writer, English language persnicketor, caveman, environmentally conscious, animal welfare supporter, meat-eater, atheist, agnostic, panmaterialist, pacifist, activist, homeschooled, country boy, unemployed, self-taught, slacker, single, Zac Efron fangirl, single, cat person, dog owner, racist, anti-kyriarchal, food lover, adrenaline lover, American. (I'm sure I've missed a few.) All of these apply to me in some way, even though I don't necessarily agree with or want to use all of them. No doubt all of them have colored your perception of me, making you less or more likely to take me seriously, less or more likely to view me as shallow or immoral or worthless or potentially annoying. Some of them seem like outright contradictions - humans are good at that.
So here's a breakdown of my favorite and least favorite labels - the ones that I identify with and the ones I'd rather leave behind.
White, European-descended, fair-skinned
I don't like to call myself "white." First of all, it's simply medically untrue (I'm also a persnicketor). Secondly, the term "white" brings up so many associations of Anglo-Saxon superiority, Aryanism, and other stuff that I just do not subscribe to. If you have to lump me, I'd rather be called "White" than "Caucasian" (my ancestors just are not from Georgia and that term is SO flippin' racisto), but for common usage I prefer to be referred to as "fair-skinned," "European-descended," "North European-American," "light pink," or even "unfairly privileged peach-toned bastard."
Female, male, transgendered, FTM, gay, bisexual, transvestite
I am female-to-male transgendered, which means that I am biologically female and perceived as female in the outside world, but as far as I am concerned I am male. Here on the Internet, I prefer to use male pronouns and a male name. I enjoy wearing women's clothes very rarely, and only on my terms.
White, obese, slacker, American
This particular set of labels will get me pegged pretty quickly as yet another water-buffalo American, shuffling down the sidewalks in singleminded pursuit of my next Big Mac. Well, I'm here to tell you that I don't eat Big Macs (or fast food, if I can help it), I don't shuffle, and unlike some people I actually take responsibility for my own obesity and am trying to repair it.
Caveman, meat-eater
With all respect to the American Heart Association, American Diabetics' Association, etc.: sorry, but you're wrong. The anti-meat, pro-carb guidelines currently in place are based on faulty data, half-baked assumptions, insufficient studies and a whole lot of hyperbole. That's why I won't eat hot dogs or processed hamburgers and sausages if I can help it, but I will happily sink my teeth into a whole, chemically-minimal piece of beefy goodness. (I also work out. That's the other side of being a caveman. And to soothe any further concerns about my health, I also eat plenty of green vegetables and fruit, and my blood sugar has been almost completely under control ever since I started eating this way.)
Atheist, agnostic, panmaterialist
Again, all of these are true. I am an atheist in that I do not worship any gods. I am agnostic because I do not know for sure (and not because I'm "between religions" at the moment - I'm just not interested in that kind of a relationship right now). I call myself a panmaterialist because I appreciate the fact that everything that exists in the universe now came from the same place, has existed forever, and can never be destroyed, only configured into new shapes. Even human minds will live on in the minds of others, sometimes for generations after the original has passed. Everything that exists is part of a living, ongoing network that cannot truly be destroyed.
Zac Efron fangirl
It's true. I can't help it. Looking at Zac Efron makes me so happy that I just want to squee, because he is that pretty. You could say that Zac Efron is my one weakness.
Country boy
I'm not a cowboy, just so you know. I've lived in the country my whole life, yet I've still grown up into a middle-class type of young adult. I don't even like cows that much. But I like to live out here, I like to take long walks and photographs, and the fresh air is to die for.
I'll extrapolate more on these and other labels in other posts. These are just the ones that stand out to me as the kind that I identify with the most or the least, or that other people are most likely to consider when they decide what kind of person I am. That's what labels are for, after all.
So here's a breakdown of my favorite and least favorite labels - the ones that I identify with and the ones I'd rather leave behind.
White, European-descended, fair-skinned
I don't like to call myself "white." First of all, it's simply medically untrue (I'm also a persnicketor). Secondly, the term "white" brings up so many associations of Anglo-Saxon superiority, Aryanism, and other stuff that I just do not subscribe to. If you have to lump me, I'd rather be called "White" than "Caucasian" (my ancestors just are not from Georgia and that term is SO flippin' racisto), but for common usage I prefer to be referred to as "fair-skinned," "European-descended," "North European-American," "light pink," or even "unfairly privileged peach-toned bastard."
Female, male, transgendered, FTM, gay, bisexual, transvestite
I am female-to-male transgendered, which means that I am biologically female and perceived as female in the outside world, but as far as I am concerned I am male. Here on the Internet, I prefer to use male pronouns and a male name. I enjoy wearing women's clothes very rarely, and only on my terms.
White, obese, slacker, American
This particular set of labels will get me pegged pretty quickly as yet another water-buffalo American, shuffling down the sidewalks in singleminded pursuit of my next Big Mac. Well, I'm here to tell you that I don't eat Big Macs (or fast food, if I can help it), I don't shuffle, and unlike some people I actually take responsibility for my own obesity and am trying to repair it.
Caveman, meat-eater
With all respect to the American Heart Association, American Diabetics' Association, etc.: sorry, but you're wrong. The anti-meat, pro-carb guidelines currently in place are based on faulty data, half-baked assumptions, insufficient studies and a whole lot of hyperbole. That's why I won't eat hot dogs or processed hamburgers and sausages if I can help it, but I will happily sink my teeth into a whole, chemically-minimal piece of beefy goodness. (I also work out. That's the other side of being a caveman. And to soothe any further concerns about my health, I also eat plenty of green vegetables and fruit, and my blood sugar has been almost completely under control ever since I started eating this way.)
Atheist, agnostic, panmaterialist
Again, all of these are true. I am an atheist in that I do not worship any gods. I am agnostic because I do not know for sure (and not because I'm "between religions" at the moment - I'm just not interested in that kind of a relationship right now). I call myself a panmaterialist because I appreciate the fact that everything that exists in the universe now came from the same place, has existed forever, and can never be destroyed, only configured into new shapes. Even human minds will live on in the minds of others, sometimes for generations after the original has passed. Everything that exists is part of a living, ongoing network that cannot truly be destroyed.
Zac Efron fangirl
It's true. I can't help it. Looking at Zac Efron makes me so happy that I just want to squee, because he is that pretty. You could say that Zac Efron is my one weakness.
Country boy
I'm not a cowboy, just so you know. I've lived in the country my whole life, yet I've still grown up into a middle-class type of young adult. I don't even like cows that much. But I like to live out here, I like to take long walks and photographs, and the fresh air is to die for.
I'll extrapolate more on these and other labels in other posts. These are just the ones that stand out to me as the kind that I identify with the most or the least, or that other people are most likely to consider when they decide what kind of person I am. That's what labels are for, after all.
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