Saturday, January 30, 2010

Butch AND Trans?

Okay, I am realizing that use of labels is becoming outdated for me. They don't quite capture all the variation that exists in the way of identity and gender, nor adequately express those differences and complexities. However, given that we have labels, and those labels carry with them significant histories and cultural discourse around what gender looks like, acts like, feels like, and how it interacts in relationship to people and things - I feel it is necessary to propose a grey area with those terms we often see as in opposition to, or in competition with one another.

Let's look at this for a moment. There has been a huge cultural discourse around Butch and Transmasculine/FtM identities and their meanings within lesbian and queer communities. These conversations have largely been unspoken in public settings due to some tensions and hostilities around validating and affirming these identities. The discussions seem to mostly be around Transmasculine/Transsexual women-loving identities, as a point of comparison to Butch as a noun. We may no longer talk openly about it, but many of us are still working out for ourselves what the relationship of Butch and Trans means. Do either identities or subject positions somehow threaten one another? I am going to say, the relationship is more complex than this.

I wager there is space to conceive of Butch and Transmasculine/FtM identities as co-ocurring, or coalescing. I'm simply going to speak from my own experience here... but I don't view the categories of Butch and Trans as entirely separate entities as applied to my own identity. And, I fully support the space occupied by those that don't similarly identify, and instead strictly hold space as either Butch or Trans.

I have spent many years trying to reconcile the two master identities (obviously there are different varieties of Butch and Trans) and have come to the conclusion that there is a fluid space within me which exists, and is not easily captured or contained within either identity separately. I share aspects of both Butch, and Transmasculine/FtM identities... and others as well: puppy, sissyboi, fagbutch, trannybutch, butchboidyke, to name a few. I do not feel like a woman-loving woman, lesbian, queer girl, or even simply as a Butch of any sort. I really do not feel at home with an understanding of myself as woman, period. Yet, I do occupy a space within what is seen as a female body. So, there are overlaps in experience of that female body for sure, with those who identify as Butch or Trans, in comparison to how those who identify as women perceive their bodies.

I understand what it is like to have breasts and a period, for example. Yet, my relationship to those experiences is much different from many, if not most women, straight or queer identified. I do not view my physiological processes as inherently womanly or feminine. Nor, do I see my identity as dependent on these processes. Having a period or breasts, does not somehow make me a woman - just as not having breasts or a period does not. My gender stands alone, and influences my experience of these bodily processes, however the meaning imposed on my parts by outside society increases the discomfort and disembodiment of my gender and the connection to my body.

Although I acknowledge the limitations of the terms feminine and masculine, the closest idea of what I most identify with as far as flavours of identity and internal concept goes, is something of the effeminate male or effeminate masculine position. This position produces a much different experience of my bodily processes - processes which have largely been removed from me and institutionalized as one way of being - than someone who identifies strictly as female or woman.

This is one example of the relationship of my intangible gender to my physical being. In order to look at this grey zone more fully, it is necessary to examine this relationship closer. Having breasts and a period (as a mild example) is something I often feel uncomfortable associating with, because of the transcription of those aspects of my body as female and necessarily feminine. It is this reification of my parts and processes by outside forces that I am uncomfortable with most, and the lack of space for any other relationship or understanding of them outside of myself and radical circles. And yet, there is a physical element of discomfort outside of this proscription of space within my own body, and the narrowing by others of the possibilities of how to relate to my body in the flavour and manner that is most comfortable to me.

For me, it is simply uncomfortable to experience a period, and to have breasts. It is especially uncomfortable when one is a highly athletic being, and likes to move around. It is particularly uncomfortable, when I would love to experience the freedom of my chest muscles by themselves, without the bonus of additional anything, and to feel the strength of those muscles unencumbered by extra tissue, which I will never actually use for feeding small humans. I believe both those who identify as Butch and Transmasculine can relate to this discomfort (and some, may not). In fact, I would go so far as to say that my breast tissue interferes with my body's fully maximal capability for gaining musculature and definition - by way of inhibiting my sensory relationship with my chest muscles, and their growth while working out. Anyone who body builds would be familiar with this sensation and the relationship to motivation and training results.

These are some elements of the physical embodiment of gender and examples of how the embodiment of Butch and Trans identities may share overlap. It is hard to separate the physicality of someone and the relationship to their physical presentation from the interaction with one's psychic gender, given the social processes involved in delegitimizing those relationships. There are many ways in which the body, as a site of reification of the idea of a gender binary by dominant societal notions, shapes the comfort of one's gender identity - and subsequently, the steps one takes to craft one's appearance and make choices around presentation that resists this hegemony, thus creating space for alternative identities.

Insofar as the experience of my masculinity within my sexualized body is uncomfortable to me, I believe I share the experience of Butch and Trans. Further than this, I do not occupy a strict congruent relationship to either identity. I do not wish to be perceived solely as a masculine, female, lesbian, nor a transsexual masculine male. Both have social consequences that I am not comfortable with, and which translate into different perceptions and understandings of me by outside parties that do not actually account for my own unique identity.

In adding my voice to claiming a space for Butch and Trans as a grey area of identity (along with others who feel similarly), I hope to not further conflate or add to the antagonism between these identities. My hope is to open the door for alternative dialogue that affirms those who fall somewhere in between.

Monday, January 4, 2010

A Word on Words

Today I enjoyed my first class of human sexuality studies. In a matter of minutes, the Prof summed up his opinions on language and categorization that I have been stewing on for years.

Language is simply inadequate to classify sex, sexuality, sexual orientation, habits, practices, and desires. The terms that we have to describe our sex, gender, and sexuality, are all misleading and incomplete at best, and inaccurate at worst. They are simply what we have arrived at until this moment, when we come up with some better way of understanding the complexity with which we exist and express ourselves.

I still struggle with the terms masculine and feminine. On the one hand, I feel like they have been misaligned with a constructed sexual binary of male and female. Maleness goes with masculinity, femaleness with femininity according to traditional notions. However, it is our social norms that have dictated the resistance to acknowledge and respect the expression of gender identities that do not fall neatly into such either/or categories.

There is also the idea that notions of masculinity and femininity in themselves, are problematic and not able to accurately depict or classify a quality of someone's gender. For example, ideas of masculinity and femininity have also been largely socially constructed and carry oppositional connotations. In fact, neither term would exist without the other to oppositionally define it. Yet, the terms also carry the weight of a patriarchal value system that sees masculine characteristics as positive: namely strong and powerful and the sole domain of certain males, while the notion of femininity has been constructed as negative by association with terms such as soft, sensitive, and gentle, and reserved solely for females.

Thankfully, femininity and masculinity are slowly becoming more acceptable expressions from "opposite" genders, allowing for men to express their "femininity," and women their "masculinity," or some combination thereof. However, this does not cover the entire gender spectrum. And, it also does not challenge the construction of the terms themselves and why certain values have been placed in either category.

One of my biggest struggles as a non-gender conforming, masculine identified person is the reluctance, refusal, and dismissal of my masculinity simply because it is expressed within a "female" body. I place female in quotation marks because what makes someone female or male is not so clear. An excellent, if long, article on sex in sport touches on this lack of clarity and definition of sex: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/11/30/091130fa_fact_levy?currentPage=all

Whichever way one chooses to examine the notion of sex; literally "the divide," whether it be chromosomes, hormones, genitalia, muscle mass or fat distribution, body hair, etc., there is no clear division. Each of us carries estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone in varying amounts, with some normative distribution for sure. But the combination of factors producing one's body characteristics and internal sense of self with regards to gender are probably as individual as the person.

So, why the big resistance to acknowledging my "masculine" traits as A) existing, and B) a positive thing? Why do I have to be lumped in with "ladies" when clearly I am about the farthest thing from one? Any trip down Granville St. or jaunt to GM Place for a concert will reveal that I clearly don't fit in with the "ladies." I suppose there is often the polite assumption that referring to someone's masculinity while they inhabit a female body may be offensive, yet to me it is offensive when people do everything they can to overlook that presentation.

I went shoe shopping a few months ago for boots, was staring at the men's boots and asking questions about sizes available. The well meaning store clerk said that the size I was looking for was not available, but that there were some options on the women's side of the store. She literally pointed to an array of high topped, pointy toed, stilettos and said that I might be interested to check them out. I ask myself in such moments: "Is this person from Mars?" Honestly, what in my appearance would suggest that I would ever own a pair of such boots, save for a rare drag performance? My response to her was, "Actually, I don't wear women's shoes." She seemed tongue tied and didn't know what to say, so I offered "I'm actually okay with my masculinity, ya know?" to which she replied, "Oh yeah, I've got this sweater that is kind of bigger and long sleeved. Yeah totally."

I guess the point is, why are so many folks threatened by cross-gendered individuals using accurate terms to define themselves? Even within the queer community, there is much refusal and dismissal of the validity of trans and gender non-conforming identity to have access to words that are traditionally reserved for those within the gender binary. I can be in a room filled with lesbians, and it is assumed that I am a "sister." And if I chose to out myself as something other than "she," crickets might be heard emerging from couch cushions.

My challenge to anyone reading this and who is reluctant to provide space for and respect someone's true gender identity is this: ask that person how they prefer to be addressed, and don't assume how they identify. This goes a long way to providing support and space for identities that are so often made invisible and shameful.