Transgender(ed) thoughts, Part II

[tahnan]

(Read Part I, which has nothing whatsover to do with this entry, here.)

Why is it, I wonder, that when I see someone I feel the need to know their gender? In many cases, it's fairly clear; I suppose that's obvious. But take tonight, at dinner: the person behind me in line was...possibly biologically female but transgendered [note: see Part I for the usage explanation], possibly identifying as female-butch, possibly identifying as female and just somewhat masculine in appearance.... But why do I care?

I'm pretty sure I didn't have any real need to know their biological sex; that's personal, and everyone's welcome to keep that hidden under their clothing. Gender, on the other hand, is public--but it's also complex, hard to define, not the sort of thing I'd expect someone to have written on a nametag or something. Why do I feel--not uncomfortable, I don't think? There's someone I converse with not infrequently at the Diesel (and who's probably reading this--hi there) who's transgendered, and at the risk of sounding like I'm saying some-of-my-best-friends-are, I don't feel any discomfort around said person. (I'm not 100% positive, but I think they prefer gender-neutral pronouns; singular "they" is my gender-neutral pronoun of choice.) For that matter, when colorwheel and I were chatting over AIM while watching an MSNBC hour-long documentary on young transgendered people, I unreservedly found Tayler (née Travis) really hot. But I knew Tayler's gender: female (and, for that matter, I knew her current biological makeup, since she talks about how she's looking forward to having gender-reassignment surgery).

So what's going on when I see people whose gender I don't know? An innate biological pressure to distinguish potential mates from non-? (Except that I don't care what sex the person is, and I've got all the potential mate I need here at home.) A cognitive need to fit things into categories? (Even if it's an ill-defined category?) A linguistic problem, since as I stand in front of this person in line I think to myself, "I'm going to need time to think; I should let [insert pronoun] go ahead of me," and I stumble over the thought if I can't put it in words and I can't put it in words unless I have a pronoun and I can't have a pronoun unless I know the person's gender? (But why not just use singular "them"?)

I have no idea. Perhaps I should reread "Congenital Agenesis of Gender Ideation" and see if it helps.

Comments

[jeffurrynpl.livejournal.com]

When you find out what the fascination is, please let me know...for some reason my boyfriend Paul and I will watch any documentary about transgendered people we can find, to the point that I asked him if he had anything to tell me. Neither one of us knows why we find this so fascinating. He's never actually met a transgendered person whereas I met a few when I lived in Ann Arbor. I'm sure it's the only town in Michigan where they felt comfortable.

[42itous.livejournal.com]

You should read Middlesex, by Stephen Eugenides. Really good book. The protagonist isn't exactly transgender[ed], but... well, read it.

[jeffurrynpl.livejournal.com]

I have. I loved it. Paul doesn't read fiction, though, so I can't get him to read it.

[srl.livejournal.com]

Better than reading books "about" transgender people is reading books by actual trans people, and then knowing that for every trans person who tells some story--- any story, about themselves or anyone else-- in print, there are dozens who don't or can't.

(and if you or any readers of this post want to do something to fix that, support your local trans-inclusive civil rights legislation. That link goes to a page about a MA state bill, but almost every state has a local political group that works for transgender civil rights.)

[hahathor.livejournal.com]

[NB - the following is based largely on social psych research over the past 50 years or so; I'm happy to provide references as needed. I also happen to agree with all of the following, so feel free to argue if you disagree]

Gender, along with race, is a strong categorizer. Whether we are conscious of it or not - even if we consciously try to fight it - we react to people differentially based on race and gender (we also react to how they're dressed, how articulate they are, their weight, etc, but race & gender tend to trump those). Knowing race & gender gives you a whole mess of cognitive short cuts in dealing with people. To some extent, this is a negative, because you may respond to someone inaccurately by responding to them as a group member, even if their individual characteristics are not aligned with your assumptions about that group. On the other hand, if we didn't do this, our simplest social interactions would take an inordinate amount of cognitive energy. Most people, if they can't determine race or gender, will try to figure it out, as the effort needed to make that determination is often less than the effort necessary to deal with an individual who can't be categorized.

[The following is from personal experience, not research]

Rehmi (my ex, with whom I lived for over a decade) had a lot of experience with this. His name doesn't reveal his sex or his gender & many of his interactions were online. About 50% of the time, the person he was communicating with would ask whether he was male or female by the second e-interaction. Also, as those of you who have met him know, his race is difficult to determine. He's darker than caucasian, but lighter than most African-Americans - lighter than most folks from Puerto Rico or Mexico, actually. He's got poker straight dark hair - almost black, but with reddish highlights. He's got high cheekbones, relatively delicate lips, and extremely dark eyes that are more almond-shaped than most Caucasians, but rounder than most East Asians. It would drive people nuts when they met him because he didn't appear to be the default (white), but it isn't immediately obvious which "minority" bin he belongs to.

He had a lot of fun watching people squirm as they struggled to identify both his sex & his race. I picked up on this & started avoiding single pronouns when talking about him to people who hadn't met him. And I'd refer to him as my "partner" rather than my boyfriend. Interestingly, most of the time, people assumed he was female when I talked about him. I'm not quite sure what that says about how I come across to people.

[cnoocy]

I think "partner" has a strong same-sex connotation as a result of being one of the standard terms for same-sex couples.

[aspartaimee.livejournal.com]

in this country, "partner" is definitely used dominately with same sex couples.

although, i find that "partner" is the generic term my british colleagues use to describe their significant other (whether or not an actual marriage ceremony took place), same-sex or otherwise. it confuses my american soul.

[arianhwyvar.livejournal.com]

Huh...I've found myself using 'partner' to refer to my S.O., at least when discussing finance/household issues, since it seems odd to refer to someone as my boyfriend when I am living with them and have been with them for many years. Bf/Gf completely fails to convey 'I share a household with this person.' 'Fiance' often conveys to people that a pair, while not actually married, can be considered bonded for those purposes, but you can't use it if you're not actually engaged.

But I have run into that -- I use partner and people assume it must be someone of the same sex.

[bookishfellow.livejournal.com]

I know at least one (two-sex) married couple who deliberately use the term "partner" as a show of solidarity with homosexual couples who can't marry in most states; the reasoning is, if more het couples use the term, that'll eat away at its default-gay connotation.

[incontango.livejournal.com]

I think it's a simple primitive response:

"Can I mate with that?"

[aspartaimee.livejournal.com]

could be because you enjoy solving puzzles and an ambiguously gendered individual presents a visual puzzle that your brain needs to find a solution for.

[qaqaq.livejournal.com]

I was going to post the exact same thing, and I think that's definitely part what's going on here. I think the "I should be able to figure this out" sense is so deep-down for puzzlers that we don't even realize how much it tends to influence our thoughts and behavior sometimes.

[arianhwyvar.livejournal.com]

I have read that this is pretty universal. Whether because of biological or societal imperatives, even nonprejudiced people or those inclined positively towards people who don't fit clearly into a gender category find themselves experiencing discomfort when they can't classify someone as to gender. Our brains want to slot people into categories, and that's a big one.

[luckylefty.livejournal.com]

I can't find it right now, but I read a very interesting set of essays on this subject on the web page of a very androgynous-looking person. They took the point of view that the question "what is your gender?" was similar to the question "Do you have a penis?" or "How large is your penis?"; all rude and inappropriate except in those specific circumstances where the questioner had a legitimate reason to be interested. The funniest part of the essay was that they often found people looking for clues as to their gender, like Pat on SNL. When in a public place, they would often find themselves closely watched when going to the rest rooms, to see which one they would enter. In that situation, they would go to the two doors, take out a coin, flip it, look at the result, sigh, and go through the door they always knew they were going to go through.

I share your discomfort around a person whose gender is not apparent, and this gets compounded by my feeling uncomfortable about my discomfort; I suspect that Hathor's right, and I'm at some level thinking "I need to know your gender so I can stereotype you!" and I don't think I should feel that way.

[tahnan.livejournal.com]

I'm nigh-positive that you're remembering the web page of Raphael Carter, author of The Fortunate Fall, as well as the story I mention at the end of my post. I met Raphael on a few occasions, not for extensive conversations but at least casually, and I can tell you with full certainty that I have no idea whether zir genes are XX or XY. I do know zir gender: zie was not androgynous, but instead was simply neither. (A friend and I, not yet used to gender-neutral pronouns, were discussing meeting Raphael a day or two later. I instinctively used "she"; she instinctively used "he". While I tend to go with "they/them/their", I recall Raphael preferring "zie/zir/zir", so I'll use it for zir.)

I've got mixed feelings about the first part of what zie wrote, though--I very much wish zir web page were still up, because I'd like to reread it now with my somewhat more experienced perspective. Asking Raphael Carter "what sex are you?" would be absolutely equivalent to "how large is your penis?"; but "what is your gender" seems closer to, I don't know, "what color dye is that in your hair" or "what does that tattoo on your arm mean"--it's a personal fact but one that's part of your public persona. It's not a casual question, not as casual as "what book is that that you're reading?", but I don't think it's as intensely personal as "How large is your penis?".

Though now I'm tempted to alternate asking each question to people at the Diesel, to see what kinds of reactions I get.

[jenaflynn.livejournal.com]

Being trans myself, I'm used to it, and the questions that it brings up. I was at a party this past weekend (actually at Stever's place) and I ended up revealing my status to a person there, since he was engaging me in a wonderful conversation on men vs women, gender, etc. While he was fine with my trans-status it eventually led to the question of "have you had surgery yet." My standard answer is to say "none of your business" (but in a really, really nice way.) Because, does it matter what I've had or not had done? I'm not going to develop a physical relationship with these people,s o they have no need to know what's been done to my body. (if anything.) I'm still the same decent person that you've been chatting with for an hour, and what I've had done is going to make me less fun to talk to, etc.

As for diesel, at least a few people who work there are trans. One of their employees is a wonderful person, and I've had some great conversations. (And it just reminds me why I love living in Davis Sq.)

And, if you ever want to meet a lovely bunch of trans folks, at a very positive event, try Gendercrash(.com) it's held every month, and it's you standard poetry slam type of deal, but with many awesome Queer/lbgt folk participating/etc. :)

And bravo to you for being interested in trans issues. For most people, this is bit of a scary thing to even think about.

[rubrick.livejournal.com]

An innate biological pressure to distinguish potential mates from non-? (Except that I don't care what sex the person is, and I've got all the potential mate I need here at home.)

Surely the second part of the parenthitical is irrelevant; whether you're consciously seeking new mates has very little to do with whether the rest of your brain and body thinks you should be.

On the other hand, I have another possible explanation. Addressing someone as the wrong gender can be very embarassing; perhaps you have a strong unconscious desire to avoid that possibility.

[lilisonna.livejournal.com]

I just find it frustrating and rude to not know which pronoun to use. She, he, ze or they; I don't care which it is. I just want to know which one it should be.