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| Thursday, 03 July 2008 |
FrontPage Q Transgender
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Q Transgender By michael munson
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It’s around this time of year when I most think about issues of passing, of “passing privilege,” and of political correctness. Pride month -- traditionally June -- is a time when people celebrate queerness, our political and social progress in gaining equal rights and respect, honoring our relationships and identities. It is a time when some people opt to be more visible -- more out as queer -- than they would during other times of the year.How do people choose to be out, and what does it mean, anyway? Not everyone wants to be “out” -- however they define it -- and the choice of what, how much, and to whom information is revealed should be based purely on personal choice.The other day I was at Starbucks and saw this person in line ordering coffee. I love watching people -- people of all shapes, sizes, colors, genders, clothed diversity, and hairstyles. I enjoy being a passive, silent observer, noticing how people move in the world, how confident they look (or not), imagining some component of their personality or history based solely on their physical presence -- basically, people watching co-mingled with active day-dreaming. This quirky trait is harmless and amusing (at least to me!).Yet, that day at Starbucks, I felt sadness - a feeling of grief, for the isolation I feel in being an invisible trans person walking around in the world. While I consider myself to be extremely “out,” I do not have a scarlet “T” tattooed on my forehead, nor do I wear a t-shirt proclaiming and explaining the intricacies of my transness. I don’t introduce myself to every stranger I come across, saying “I’m michael and I’m your neighborhood genderqueer.” The person I was casually observing in line was likely a transwoman. (Yes, I knew it was politically incorrect to guess her gender/history. It’s dangerous to make assumptions, and even more dangerous to act on them. I knew that my projected classification and categorization of her was all about the separation and invisibility I was feeling and had nothing to do with objectifying or outing her.)I hear so many MTFs talk about isolation and loneliness. I was likely standing right next to an MTF and there was no way for me to acknowledge her, to acknowledge our similarities. Even those of us who are the most introverted yearn for a sense of belonging. We crave being able to recognize a common trait in another person.I wanted to say to the Starbucks customer, “I’m one too” or something coy like “I’m a friend of Harry Benjamin, are you also?” But I said nothing. She said nothing. We were not two ships passing in the dark, but rather two trans people passing in the brightness of day -- crisp, clear, windblown, thirsty, real, and at least one of us lonely and longing for connection.Why is it important that we recognize each other? Is it “simply” to validate our existence?When others are gathering at Pride events, those of us who are trans may feel invisible, left out, unsure if we belong there or not. (Trans peoples’ SOFFAs tend to feel this invisibility ten times as strong.) We may be “read” as outsiders and pass as straight (and some of us are). Maybe we should ALL wear t-shirts (or scoop-necked shirts) with large “T”s printed in the center. Maybe by seeing how many of us there are, we’d feel a little less alone, and a little more proud of who we are as trans and SOFFA individuals who are part of our greater LGBT community.
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by Harry Hanson
One of the faults of our generation is that we have brought about the death of “dating.” Dating used to be an objective term: Bob and Adam go on dates together, and therefore they are dating. Much more common these days are couples merely tied together by the term, rather than the action: “Hey, do you want to go out with me?” “Yes, I do.” Even though there is no actual “going out” involved. After this initial fallacious dialogue, the situation rarely improves. Instead of going out and seeing a movie, or having dinner, or any other pre-meditated activity which constitutes a date, most couples prefer to stay in and do those things. After all, it’s a lot easier to hook up on the couch in your basement than in a movie theater. Of course, this is not to invalidate these relationships in any way. Obviously, the two people have an interest in one another and would enjoy spending time with one another, but let’s not misconstrue the situation- they aren’t dating. They’re in a relationship built upon something else. Now, anyone who isn’t in high school is probably going to tell you that high school dating is a complete joke anyway, so it isn’t as though this phenomenon will bring about the end of love as we know it, but the limited amount of social experience could be incapacitating as an adult. This behavior appears to be an epidemic; it’s everywhere. As if Facebook, MySpace, and text messaging hadn’t already sucked all of the passion out of romance and authenticity out of communication, it’s sad to think that when there is actual interpersonal dialogue it’s so misguided. Interestingly, if anyone is immune to this mode of conduct I believe it would be the gays. My theory is this: given that the gay population within most high schools is fairly tiny, gays are more likely to branch out their dating network to other schools. And unless you’ve been friends prior to your relationship, there must be some trial period of getting to know one another-- dates! --before a relationship actually forms. These dates then tend to continue as the relationship progresses, facilitated by the fact that the individuals don’t see each other every day. Any relationship advice I’ve ever received has not advocated mixing work and play- which is to say that dating a coworker or going into business with a significant other is not advisable. And that’s in regards to the adult world of dating, which is technically more “mature” than high school dating. So what ever gave anyone the notion that dating someone from the same school was a good idea? Logic certainly seems to support the contrary. Though more coincidentally than intentionally, I’ve adhered to this style of dating throughout my high school career. Personally, I must say that I feel it’s made these past four years much more enjoyable. Not only do I not really have to care what I look like going to school every day, but I also don’t have to worry about unwanted encounters with exes, or any gossip about whom I’ve dated/hooked up with. And it's fun to actually be able to talk about your day to someone once it’s over, rather than go through it all with him/her. Beyond that, I feel like it’s made my relationships more rewarding. I’ve gotten to know my boyfriends well because we’ve actually taken the time to do so, rather than just absorb each other’s personality components via osmosis. Even if gay relationships in high school are comparatively few and far between, the dynamics of the dating world offers them more potential for success.
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