To Boob, or Not to Boob

That is the question. Or, at least, it's one that's been on my mind for quite some time.

The whole subject of breasts is so political for me. I feel like they are a great deal of how I am perceived in the world. So many female change rooms and washrooms would have been barred for me, had it not been for the fact that you can just ever so slightly discern that I've got a pair.

"Ok, go ahead." After being glanced over I get the nod to go in. Sometimes, if my back is turned too soon I get the "No, you can't go in... Oh. Go ahead."

This brings to mind a whole other discussion around washrooms, which other transpeople have discussed. Each of us has a goldmine of stories to share around such policing of toilet spaces.

But, back to the breast.

Mine developed so painfully slowly. I remember sitting around with some girls in my Grade 5 class. We were talking about shaving legs. I remember asking them why the heck they were shaving, when clearly they didn't have any hair? Suffice to say, it was more about the process - the womanly process of caring for oneself in that particular way that was relevant, not necessarily the removal of hair itself. The same went for training bras. Looking around at my peers it was plain to see that girls were developing rapidly. Some had a full pair before I even grew my nipples. They were discussing which bras they should fit into, when they moved from training bras to real bras, shopping, excitement.

I just remember feeling sheepish. I never felt like I was one of the girls and the idea that my body would somehow turn me into one confused me. I kept waiting. Waiting. Waiting, for the moment that my chest would spring forth and declare me a woman. It simply never happened.

By age 12, I had barely enough to qualify for training bra shopping at Zellers, and even so, I didn't know why I had bothered. This trend carried on through highschool, and finally my early twenties. I was like, "Is this it? Really?" I'm thirty(ish) now, and I barely feel like I've developed enough boob to have them fall roundly - ever stuck in the preadolescent development stage.

This is fine. Now. There was a time when I was heavily body building, still identified as straight, and was petrified to come into my masculinity as far as way of dress and hair styles go. So I was in this weird hetero-defined and inscribed role of woman, while developing substantial muscle mass and form. It had, in fact, occurred to me that I would somehow lose what little breasts I had and that I should take action to prevent this if they did disappear. The thought of implants crossed my mind - for a second. Thank god I never gave it a serious thought! And, no matter how hard I worked out or how little fat on my body there was, the tissue persisted. Not quite breasts remained.

Today, the question is, why do I hold onto them when I feel so uncomfortable in my body? Perhaps if they weren't so sexualized as a symbol of femaleness, I wouldn't have such a problem with my man boobs. They wouldn't be the dazzling, rippling pecs that I envision myself most comfortable with, but at least I wouldn't be so disturbed by them, perhaps. And yet, I hold onto them still because I'm not quite ready to move into that space. The space where I am no longer de facto politicized because I clearly don't fit into the binary.

Since so much of my identity since I was in diapers has been around fighting gender norms, the fact that I might be perceived steadily or readily as male somehow feels like a loss. The place I occupy now, where I may surprise someone in either direction - not quite a man, nor woman has been my home. That place of discomfort is inextricably intertwined with and has defined my gender identity.

What happens when I lose this?

Gender Testing in Sport: Reinforcing the Binary

The latest case of gender policing in sport has come to light with South African World Junior gold medalist runner Caster Semenya’s accomplishments, if not her medal, being stripped from her based on perceptions of her gender and an unfair advantage.

The young Caster had achieved astounding success in leaps and bounds, which left many eyebrows raised and fingers pointing that her masculine presentation deserved investigation for evidence of gender fakery. “That’s no woman! It’s a man competing in women’s races!”

After all, women in sport must take extra precaution to ensure their womanliness if they are to be accepted as athletes. Women’s athletic bodies, and, women’s bodies in general are sites of scrutiny and measurement to standards of femininity that reinforce and repress natural expressions of gender such as Caster’s. And, perish the thought that Black female athletes (and non-athletes alike) have been subjected to white standards of femaleness and femininity and, therefore, racism.

Now we have a young gifted athlete who has done nothing but accomplish feats her peers could not, and the world stage has called her gender and her sex into question. The result is that any female athlete must subject herself to medical rape and inspection in order to prove that she is, in fact, female by traditionally conceived notions and socially appropriate norms. But this whole debacle raises important questions, despite the traumatic and degradingly inappropriate leakage of Caster’s personal and very private information.

Where is the place in competition for those who do not neatly fit gender or sex expectations? Where is Caster’s place on the world stage? What is the solution of all of this probing, examining, and humiliating? If it is true that Caster, or someone like her is intersex, where would such an athlete compete? People claim that she has an unfair advantage but the fact is, she is naturally gifted. Cases such as this make clear that gender and sex are not clear-cut. There is no such thing as men’s competitions and women’s competitions. These notions are socially constructed and biologically inaccurate.

So what criteria do we use? Does this mean all hell breaks lose and those who are deemed not female or not male compete in their own ‘Special Olympics’? Does it mean they don’t get to compete at all? Does it mean that all genders should be lumped together? Well clearly these aren’t solutions. I think the paranoia that belies excluding intersex, transgender, transsexual or non-gender conforming individuals in sport is that they are somehow using an unfair biological advantage.

For instance, a transsexual female athlete such as women's downhill mountain bike racer Michelle Dumaresq (who wins, btw) is seen to not only be parading as a fake woman, but that the parading is purposely for using an unfair advantage to win. I mean, does anyone care if transgender athletes compete if they don’t win? As in the case of the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, female athletes are being sex tested and their biology sometimes comes into question, yet they are allowed to continue to compete. Is this because they passed as women? Or is it because they didn’t actually win? What exactly is an unfair advantage?

While I pray that this public degrading of Caster’s accomplishments does not succeed in bringing down this young soul’s spirits – I think it’s about time we examined as a whole our gender expectations of women, intersex, and transpeople in sport, and in general. Perhaps this case will make way for the inclusion of a spectrum of gender so that folks like Caster don’t have to pretend to be anything but what they are.

What we are.

Where Have All The Butches Gone?

I often hear this question in the Lesbian community.

Indeed. The question is often piggy backed on the assumption that said butches are being Lost In Transition. There was a time when the Butch identity was the only masculine identity available to non-femme or non-feminine female born individuals. The identity has been particularly politically charged within the lesbian community as a form of resistance against not only patriarchal maleness and masculinity, but also, as an expression of masculinity in and of itself. Do butches want to be men? Do they hate their own bodies? Do they have internalized misogyny?

In the past 5-10 years, the issue of butch visibility and dare I say, relevance as a political identity within the womyn’s community, has been perceived to be disrupted by the growing number of individuals in the FtM and transgender community. Womyn are literally asking: Where have all the butches gone? This question is a relevant one. There do indeed seem to be fewer young womyn who identify as butch. Couple this with growing numbers of individuals id-ing as trans and choosing some form of transition – some lesbians are concerned they are “losing” their butches. Indeed, some butches are concerned they are losing fellow butches, with the resultant questioning of self-identity. What makes (me) a butch woman different from a trans person? Should I be transitioning? Why is the idea of female born persons transitioning so threatening to the womyn’s community?

I recently watched a film at the Out On Screen festival entitled: Against A Trans Narrative. I initially thought the film would document the variation of gender expression within the Female to(wards) Male community, and discussion around how not all masculine id’d trans people are necessarily seeking an end point as definitively male presenting. What the film turned out to be was a discussion among various members of the queer and old school lesbian community as well as feminist circles of this very notion of trans identity, and what the implications of such an identity are. While the film wasn’t what I expected it to be… it did provoke some reactions in me. Not because the concerns being discussed were anything new, but that they are still concerns.

If we are to address this notion that butches are being “lost” to the ftm/trans community, we must first acknowledge who is experiencing the loss. Who is it that is identifying a loss of butch women (if it is indeed the case that butches are now id-ing as trans)? Who is claiming ownership of butch women and the expression of their masculine identity? Furthermore, why would an emerging identity of trans be considered a loss of a butch woman? This is all very confusing but there are, in fact, overlaps between the butch and the masculine/trans experience. Social stigma, gender dysphoria… so what makes a butch different from a trans person?

The lines are not so clear. And, while some individuals who id’d as butch have endured a political and social struggle in which they had no choice but to carve out space for their expression of masculinity within the spectre of womanhood – might some of those old school butches transitioned if given the opportunity and means? And if they did transition, would it be due to the burden of social stigma and internalized shame, innate discomfort and desire, or some combination of both? And if there was an element of socially imposed stigma and shame that affected the relationship of butch women to their bodies resulting in their choice to transition, does anyone in the womyn’s community have ownership of this issue? Or is it an individual choice?

My problem is not that many in the womyn’s community are concerned that they may be losing their butches. My problem is the license with which these womyn are questioning my choice to express my masculinity within my own body - and imposing the identification of butch woman on me as an end point for my identity. I have a problem with the womyn’s community taking ownership of my identity, questioning the validity of it, and the choices I make around it - even openly degrading it, if not simply misunderstanding it.

Should we not consider the gain of trans guys in the community? The gaining of whole persons who have achieved a manner of selfhood that is comfortable to them – and still pushes the gender norms? That such expressions are not acts of self mutilation or degradation but facilitated expression of innate being? Sure, transition as a form of gender expression is one more act taken to fully express oneself in the world. Now if you are questioning the purity of such an act – I want you to look in the mirror and itemize all the things you do on a daily basis to comfortably express your gender; including all the dietary, exercise and behavioral choices you have consciously and unconsciously made in order to cultivate a relationship between your body and gender that is satisfactory to you and brings social comfort in the world.

I also hear this idea of FtM and trans individuals gaining “male privilege” upon transitioning. While it is true many trans guys pass as male and therefore are treated accordingly, we can never forget the struggle with which they have achieved their embodiment of maleness. Someone who was assigned female at birth, who struggles for a good portion of their life under the burden of gender and socially imposed dysphoria, chooses transition as a means to a full and unencumbered life – one set free from daily anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation - has a much different experience of masculinity than one born into male privilege.

Furthermore, if that trans guy outed himself as trans, he would be subject to possibly the highest risk of violence and homicide as having been perceived to be an imposter. This is not male privilege. Experiencing respect for one’s masculinity in the world does not equal male privilege. And to think that someone would transition for this reason, or that they have made the life altering, irreversible decision to transition to access male privilege is to undermine and question the validity of trans identity. Womyn have fought long and hard for the right to determine how and what to do with their bodies – is it not ironic that they would use their voices to determine what is acceptable or not for trans or butch people?

A Youthful Gaze

I recently wrapped up a gig in which part of my job involved teaching young kids how to make healthy life choices and cope with decisions around drug and alcohol use.

The thing is, when I started this work two years ago I had little experience with children. To be honest, they frightened me. I don't know why. Perhaps, it has something to do with my own connection to childhood.

My mother actually had a daycare for many years in the house, but I avoided it at all costs. To my mind, children and the act of having one were associated intricately with this idea of womanliness. Mothering is essentially one of *the* most womanly acts. And since I never saw myself as a woman, the idea of conception and, therefore, this motherly connection to babies always kept me at a distance from children. I never wanted to be associated with that idea of woman and her role. And furthermore, I just simply couldn't relate to that way of being that mothers seem to have. Of course, the father role was simply unthinkable. There were no such role models available.

A few years ago, I was driving around Vancouver doing outreach and as we drove past a school yard I instinctively cringed at the sounds of children in the playground. I asked myself why? Why would joyous, raucous happy kid sounds be disturbing to me? How odd. I figured I needed to give myself permission to be a kid, in order to relate to kids.

Flash forward to working with 10 and 12 year olds. There was one day I was waiting outside the classroom with skateboard in hand. A little boy approached and said: "Umm, can I ask you a question?" "Yes, sure" I said. "What is it?"

"Are you a boy or a girl?" "Well," I said, "That's a personal question and some people might not be comfortable to answer. But, what I can tell you is - I am who I am."

"Oh," he said. "Okay." And with that, he turned and went back about his business. I couldn't help but think the little guy, despite his innocence, knew he was asking a provocative question and was wanting to see my reaction. I actually was amazed at his gall. Although his question was valid, it reminded me of my early schoolyard experiences and I immediately was transported back to grade school. Little did I know that as a 30 year old, standing up in front of classrooms filled with children would create such discomfort around my gender.

There is something about the youthful gaze - that unselfconscious curiosity that openly and earnestly gawks at things that don't fit or make sense, that I wasn't prepared for as an adult cross gendered minority educator. I was affected by their gaze like a specimen in a lab.

Gender roles in elementary school are still very binary, and very few children have been exposed to a masculine presenting, female appearing person. Naturally, they would be curious. Some would whisper to each other. Others would stare aloofly. Some wouldn't care. Others would be subtly avoidant.

The impact of putting myself out there into a youth context for consumption by their gaze had an unexpected effect on me. I felt like I was 8 yrs old again, only this time I wasn't hiding my gender. I was living it for my peers to see. And, see they did.

Out of the many children I became acquainted with during this time, I realized this act of underlying live education was probably the most valuable aspect of my presentation. Sure, teaching kids how to manage their emotions and deal with peer pressure to use substances was important. But, showing them someone who doesn't fit in and who presents an alternative way of being in the world, might have impacted them more than I will know. And perhaps it is the greater contribution.

For that, it was worth it.

Gender Trouble and Celebrity: MJ

A few years ago, I became fascinated with the spectacle of MJ. I don't need to spell out his name and add to the spectacle, you know who I mean. This was before the trial and after his downward spiral. Things were clearly falling apart, literally.

I developed this morbid curiosity in the devouring of the man's face at his own hands. I studied him. Wondered what possessed him. How could someone who had achieved such heights of stardom, celebrity, power and attention have developed such bizarre coping skills?

Upon his untimely death, it has not escaped me that indeed, MJ presented as highly genderqueer. Androgynous. A multiplicity of gender. Coincidentally or not, a continuum of race. People constantly speculated: "He went from a Black man, to a White woman." WTF?

Out of all the puzzles left behind, this feminization of his appearance and the unsettling conclusions drawn: "He's homosexual. Asexual. A pedophile. A pervert. Low life" need attention.

From early photos we can see the slow revealing of feminine accoutrements and presentation. There is the slight stature. Delicate poses. Makeup. More makeup. Excessive makeup. Lipstick. Blush. More lipstick. Long hair. Fake lashes, eye liner. Yes, MJ was not the only rock star to play with his femininity. Take a look through the '70s and '80s especially and you will have a hard time defining certain performers by their gender.

The difference with MJ, was the fact that while he was changing his appearance and face especially, he was countering these changes with upping his masculine quotient. A stronger jawline. More pronounced cleft. Stubble. Seemingly at odds with the aforementioned softening of features.

The duality of the man was apparent. Had it not been for a lack of breast implants and sturdy chin, he most certainly would pass for a woman. He played with his gender, openly, even if he did not know it (or perhaps, acknowledge it openly). Now, the question is, how were these changes perceived by the public at large? Of course, there have been mixed responses. Cruel jokes and comments have repeatedly been made. Documentaries on his freakishness and supposed antics, some of which were provocative, others fabricated for industry, abound.

I would argue that aside from the lightening of his skin which I don't wish to debate - but, has given the audience licence to speculate he hated himself and his race - his growing expression of femininity was a main source of ridicule, explicit or not. People say it all went downhill with the Bad video. While at once it was palatable to the White masses to have a softer, soulful Black artist crooning without fear of daughters, girlfriends, and wives fleeing for his overpowering manliness - what once was a ticket in to racial power - backfired. It was okay to be soft and neutered, but to be outright feminine, well that's just fucked. What a freak.

Needless to say, MJ was not the first and won't be the last to play with his gender. And arguably, perceptions of his race are equally if not more powerful in manipulating his demise. However, I do think it's worthy of attention, when one plays with their gender outside the rules, particularly a black man with mega money, celebrity and power, to witness the license with which this man has been and continues to be openly degraded.

RIP, MJ.

Disease Theory

It's not so much a theory really, more a judgement, an act of separation, and condemnation.

I was at a friend's party the other night and I was bombarded with a very disturbing line of reasoning. A line of reasoning with no ending and no beginning.

"Well I'm just concerned, you know. I'm concerned that Gay People don't have the burning desire to reproduce with the opposite sex, you know like straight people. Like, what's going to happen to the human race in 3,000 years because of this...?" Rambling. Illogical.

Okay, I tried to get a word in edgewise throughout the overbearing tirade to no avail. Only, I managed to gather a small but subtle challenge to her paranoia surrounding my very being: "So, then, what may I ask is the end result of this argument? What are you proposing as the solution?"

She pauses. "Oh." She sees what I'm saying. If you lead me down the path of genocide, I have no choice but to point this out to you.

Going back to the illogical for a moment... if, in fact, our entire species was at risk of *cough* underbreeding, and all the nuclear bombs and decimating species and planet notwithstanding... And if, say, this underbreeding was indeed the cross of Gay People to bear (in fact gays of all persuasions do procreate, you see we have the parts and some of us the desire) what is the proposed solution? How would we 'control' this problem?

My friend was seeming to suggest that we would have to control the numbers of Gay folks. But this does not follow from her reasoning. In fact, the majority of Gay individuals are brought into this world by Straight couples procreating. So, should we then limit the amount of straight couples reproducing in the hopes that the numbers of new gay people dwindle?

The whole line of reasoning is absurd.

But, what disturbs me more, is that a close friend of mine would even suggest such a thing. Gay people could be the downfall of humanity.

Perhaps, if all the world leaders were gay, I would buy this argument.

But, I'm more inclined to think the world would be a happier, sexier place.

Gender Exercise

Somewhere along the sliding scale of things I realized that gender might be fluid. The idea that persons who occupy traditional gender roles; roles where male=masculine and female=feminine stay in some sort of stationary existence wherein the duality or multiplicity inherent in each biological being is at rest or stifled, has clouded my own reality.

In this reality, I have come to realize that one may be coming into oneself in a manner where change is necessary for feeling wholeness, but where it also involves removing oneself from historical identification and therefore, selfhood. There is always this element in growth of letting go of something, in order to move forward. But is this always necessary? Can one move forward, change, and still hold all parts in tact?

There are a confluence of factors which culminate in one's self concept, obviously. Take a look in the mirror and answer this question, how many of those factors reflect or revolve around your self concept of your own gender? When you get up in the morning, and you have your very first thoughts... are you aware of your body and how you feel within it? Are you aware that your mind somehow does not match your body? Are you aware of which items of clothing and which style of dress you adorn in order to perform your gender and embody your true self - your timeless being?

When I wake up in the morning, I enjoy the sensation of my body. I am not even aware of its gender until I get dressed. And then I am made aware of the daily ceremony I must go through and how that ceremony is in contravention to societal norms. For me, putting on a pair of pants is not an act of warmth. It is not simply an exercise in fashion preference. It is a statement of my cross gender affiliation. It is signalling to the world my masculinity. A masculinity which is in opposition to all things considered acceptable for those categorized as women.

So why can't I just wear a dress? Oddly enough, even when I had long hair and managed a bit of mascara, I did not feel capable of wearing a dress. It felt as foreign to me as a clown suit and every bit as ridiculous.

Yet, despite this discomfort in female assigned clothing and accoutrements, wearing "male" or masculine defined clothing, while comfortable and suitable to my gender identity - signals to the rest of the world that I am something *other*. That which makes me feel comfortable in private, while reflected back at me in public, detracts comfort. One would hope the opposite would be true. You wear what makes you happy, others notice the ease with which you embody yourself and you are rewarded with this acknowledgement. Somewhere in this equation, if one is in contravention of societal norms, the reflection can become toxic. What is reflected back has been corrupted by the negative filters of social distortion.

Exercising one's gender through dress preference becomes an act of resistance. Any female who feels the pressure of leaving the house in contravention of her constructed feminine role demands... and, likewise, any man who acts and dresses in contravention of standards of male masculinity can understand the pull to conform to gender ideals.

Now imagine if you were pulled in the opposite direction - to the point of your own idealism - and you were subjected to violence, hostility, and general misunderstanding. The act of self alignment through dress has pulled you in the direction of oncoming traffic. Pause. You must now exercise self control.

in relationship to

I feel like most things are dependent upon their relationship to other things... proximity, distance, and directionality.

There is this idea that sexual desire can be located in relation to one's sex. Or more precisely, the sexual organs which one wears. If I have a penis and I dig men, I am homosexual. Gay. If I have a vagina and dig women, I am a lesbian. But this language is confusing. Exhibit A: Bisexual. This term often gets confused by the general audience as meaning two-sexed as opposed to indicating a desire for men and women, or possibly, multiple genders.

Another example: If I am a butch dyke, someone who appears masculine, and read as an androgynous female to the naked observer and I am dating a femme, a woman who's expression of femininity is easily recognized to be in alignment with her sex.... on what basis do I say I am in a same-sex relationship? Based on my organs? This is where it gets confusing. The question from those who have not given too much thought about queerness often is: "So, who's the man, and who's the woman in the relationship?" This is to assume that any relationship that is valid starts from a point of heterosexual normativity. Sex normativity. Gender normativity. These are the standards from which relationships are often judged and classified. But this is besides the point.

In our search for terms that identify who we are and how others can conceptualize us in relation to themselves, terms based on sex organ relationships don't seem quite adequate. I'm just trying to deconstruct this a little bit to see where it goes. Would we use the term same-gender to indicate our sexual preferences in a clearer way? But this is problematic as well. Because if I apply this term to my dating preference, for instance femmes, then I would be in an opposite gender relationship. You get the idea.

Anyways, all this to say that we may very well be too caught up in how we label relationships and desire. Maybe a language that indicates neither/nor would be a better option. My partner. My date. My relationship. My desire. Of course this is not so easily understood and achieved by a broader paradigm which demands positionality so as to determine normalicy. There is also the basic function of indicating one's preferences in order to open the dating pool.

And we are perhaps not at a place yet where queer or non-normative relationships have been respected and honoured for long enough that we can take for granted that we do not need to reclaim our worth by way of self-identifying. But, it will be nice when such language is no longer required. I'm hoping this will be indicative of universal acceptance of diversity.

But in the mean time, I'll just use the word queer.

bridging the divide

Let's talk groups for a minute.

We've got breeders, straights, gays, queers, people of colour, transfolk, disabled, various levels of income and class stratification... religion, age, ethnicity and whatnot. Cool.

Now say, if one was a member of any one of these groups (and maybe two or three or more) how do we bridge the gaps that exist between? If for instance, one is a person of colour and a member of the queer community - how do gaps between those two groups get bridged? Because clearly, there aren't many formal spaces where the dominant Queer Community in Vancouver for instance, encourage spaces for and work to dismantle the barriers that exist for people of colour and queers with white privilege to get along. And by get along, I mean mingle. Like chat. Hang out. Cruise. Dance. Celebrate. Feel safe and comfortable. Desired. Make friends... you get the picture. I'm just wondering how accepting and integrated our community is of all its different elements, and what can be done to improve this?

I know there are fabulous people out there doing fabulous work and organizing, and all manner of social justicey type stuff. And, no, we don't all have to get along. I'm just curious though, how we (and by we, I mean any individual capable of understanding the gaps that exist within subcultures) make an effort as individuals, and within our own little comfort zones and groups for folks who are different than ourselves? How do we make it easier to get along? Do we build spaces for ourselves to meet across difference? Places where segregated groups can come together and understand each other - amongst our own circles? Because forget about the broader community for a minute.... how do we invite or let people in to our own homes, friendship circles and families first?

Just curious.

The space in between

It could be anything really. For me, I am most preoccupied with identity. What makes up that space between our ears? How do we squeeze ourselves into cultural spaces, or dominant society?

It's taken me nearly 31 years of deconstructing the reality that surrounds me in Western European colonized North American society to be able to embrace my gender divergence. I do not fit neatly into what it means to be a biological/behavioral man or woman. I lie somewhere in between.

I was taught from a young age that liking certain things...basketball, wrestling, bmx riding, wearing cargo pants, bodybuilding and cutting my hair short were cause for scorn and exclusion. "You're a dyke!" I remember being called by boys in the playground whom I was looking to play with. I think it was because I was better than them. Or, at least I gave them a run for their money.

Being challenged by a perceived girl made these boys somehow more "girlie." They had already ingested lessons and cues that power and strength = maleness. Timidness and weakness = femaleness. Enwrapped in this idea of weakness in being challenged by a girl is the internalized misogyny of male domination. If you are weak, you are a pussy. If you are strong, you're a man. Homo's are faggots. Faggots are pussies. Gender phobia and violence is derived from innate fears of homosexuality, which in my opinion, is derived from a fear of losing male power and omnipotence, corresponds with misogyny and leads to transphobia.

I had not heard that term before. Dyke. I asked my friends if they knew what it meant. It seems that because I liked to do traditional "boy" things, this qualified me as a "dyke." At this time I had no sense of my sexual attraction to women, and thus became enraged with this categorization based on my likes and dislikes of activities and way of dress. All I knew was that this label hurt, and was meant to degrade.

I did not understand why I wasn't accepted into the dominion of All Things Male, but I knew it was unfair exclusion. Weekly, I would engage in fist fights, tripping and choking with boys on the playground to reclaim some foothold of respect for my masculinity and personhood. Between the ages of 7-10, this was all that I knew to take power back. But it didn't work. I was no more respected for my fighting on the school ground as a hysterical other. And it made me even more of a dyke in their eyes.

Throughout the years these early imprints of gender have haunted me. Like many, I hid my gender preferences until they could no longer sit underneath the pressure of my truth. A truth that comes with severe consequences in moving through the world as a masculine person whose body is read as female. Consequences which my transsexual sisters and effeminate male brothers understand all too well.

unknown gender

How much do we know about gender? Our psyches? There is great speculation and some medical evidence to account for biological differences - for different sexes. But how many sexes are we? How many genders?



The traditional notion has been that only two sexes, and therefore two genders exist. Gender norms and roles, the beliefs and expectations attached to these two sexes: male and female, have dominated cultural discourses dating back to biblical times and span ethnocultural divides. Notions of gender roles go even further back, to ideas of division of labour amongst cave dwelling humans.



To those of us who were born with the knowledge that we are *other* - such categorical identifications have been akin to psychic and spiritual erasure. Who am I? Where do I fit in? How do I fit in? I have this body, but I don't like these rules. Play by the rules. Girls wear pink and boys wear blue.



In this time in which our collective brain and emerging acuity can perceive an implosion of constructed walls and constructed reality: capitalism, oil, poverty, population explosion, migration, runaway extinctions, artic shelves melting, briefcases vs. soiled feet... what is real? What makes you tick? Does the gendered role assigned to your body sustain you? Or do you move beyond - to that place where only ideas flow? Ideas do not have gender.



Briefcases do not have gender, they simply hold things. Documents. Papers of crumbling reality: insurance, business cards, investment, lipstick. Does my hair look okay? What happened to the ground beneath my feet? Where is it? This concrete is the only thing I remember, but where is my soil? My nourishment?



Our basic ideas about our selves and our nature limit us from achieving a singular common connection. A connection that might explode differences in creed, colour, dollar value, purchasing power, ability to feed onesself and live beyond the age of a child.



This space needs exploration. The space in between.