You know this one hits home for me as we have discussed it many times. I think it hits in a very specific way for parents of tween children who are just now beginning this journey of self-discovery without a sure feeling of what feels right for them. My 9-year-old talks a lot about sometimes feeling like a girl and sometimes feeling like a boy. On the one hand, I love that our society is becoming more accepting of this journey and I'm committed to providing loving support along the way. On the other hand, when we talk about these feelings and where they come from, everything cited by my child is based on the labels I have spent my entire life railing against. The reasons my child gives for sometimes feeling like a girl and sometimes feeling like a boy are: loving science and math but also arts and literature, wanting to sometimes wear a suit and sometimes a dress, playing with dolls and dinosaurs, etc. For me, none of these things have anything to do with gender, and the feminist in me is not okay with the idea that my child isn't comfortable calling herself a girl just because she wants to be an astronaut and likes hanging out with boys. However, I'm also aware that perhaps my child doesn't have the right words to articulate these feelings accurately yet, so they are falling back on citing stereotypes when that's not really what they mean. So, I toe this line between wanting my child to know their feelings about their own gender are valid as well as knowing that any person can be a specific gender and not fall into any of the stereotypes associated with it.
Thank you for wrestling with these questions out loud. I appreciate the bell curve image you offer, as I exist on one of those outer curves. I've also played male characters from time to time, and enjoy exploring the physical shifts and behaviors; but, my feminine characters also require study. I'm often vulgar, brash, loud, gassy, and distracted (thank you adult ADHD). I'm prettier in makeup but only wear it for stage or photoshoots. Menopause has eliminated the assessing looks of random strangers, which allows me a blessed/cursed invisibility. I'm a woman, though, she/her.
None of which is to deny or interrupt the experience, exploration, experimentations with language and identities you address here. My old school feminism is wrestling with the racist history of the movement, but more fully addresses my personal struggles negotiating my own identity. I just don't quite fit most of the time.
But - let me acknowledge I benefit from the privileges of my mainstream white lady identifiers. It's just that the high heels are never comfortable.
Rejecting my gender stereotype in my youth felt like a rite of passage. I made it through! And so did many of my friends (some more elegantly than others), boys and girls. We did our own thing. We lived our own life. And we thought we had made it easier for others to do the same. I think that's at least a little bit true. But here is stereotyping all over again...with a vengeance!
This is the fire that puberty walks through. It's not easy (did anyone have an awesome puberty?) and I don't think it is supposed to be. I would never wish to be a teenager again, but I would hate to have been robbed of the opportunity to grow beyond what the establishment had in mind for me. When we offer such simplistic solutions to tender and struggling minds we are doing them a great disservice. And the world is weakened by it.
Not everyone will fare as well as I or my friends did. But the more healthy adults we have, the more help will be available for those whose struggles are greater.
Beautifully written, Mo. Thank you for this gentle, yet potent contribution.
Genderqueer folks aren't trying to put other people in different gender "boxes"; we're just wrestling with whether those boxes will be in our lives anymore. Many of us ask the people around us to acknowledge what's changing for us -- for example, by changing the way they address us -- but that's not the same as insisting other people change anything about themselves. I can't imagine a genderqueer person rolling up to you, Mo, and telling you that you can't identify as a woman, for example.
Some onlookers are more interested in this change than others -- especially young people who want to explore it, and older folks who are repulsed by it -- but exploring blurred gender lines is voluntary. No one is forcing anyone to explore different gender identities.
It's bizarre to me that asking for flexibility around gender, and recognition of new gender identities, causes so much fear and distress; only about 1% of the population in America identifies as trans, and all we want is to live our lives.
I had a very brief discussion with a young person awhile back who was struggling with their pronouns. I asked if maybe they didn't need to categorize into a smaller box yet and their response was that they wanted to because they felt that it would help them feel like they belonged somewhere. I don't have fully formed thoughts on that discussion but it stopped me in my tracks. I tend to be thinking along the same lines as yours in this essay. But perhaps my young friend's wishes are where the grey areas of this all lie. How do we make the boxes big enough for all but feel small enough for some to find their people?
You know this one hits home for me as we have discussed it many times. I think it hits in a very specific way for parents of tween children who are just now beginning this journey of self-discovery without a sure feeling of what feels right for them. My 9-year-old talks a lot about sometimes feeling like a girl and sometimes feeling like a boy. On the one hand, I love that our society is becoming more accepting of this journey and I'm committed to providing loving support along the way. On the other hand, when we talk about these feelings and where they come from, everything cited by my child is based on the labels I have spent my entire life railing against. The reasons my child gives for sometimes feeling like a girl and sometimes feeling like a boy are: loving science and math but also arts and literature, wanting to sometimes wear a suit and sometimes a dress, playing with dolls and dinosaurs, etc. For me, none of these things have anything to do with gender, and the feminist in me is not okay with the idea that my child isn't comfortable calling herself a girl just because she wants to be an astronaut and likes hanging out with boys. However, I'm also aware that perhaps my child doesn't have the right words to articulate these feelings accurately yet, so they are falling back on citing stereotypes when that's not really what they mean. So, I toe this line between wanting my child to know their feelings about their own gender are valid as well as knowing that any person can be a specific gender and not fall into any of the stereotypes associated with it.
Reading this helped me breathe a big sigh of relief. Elegantly expressed, kind, and genuine.
"But--but--but--extra categories make us feel extra special!" Eloquently unfurled. And yes, I concur on that paranthetical about gay men.
Thank you for wrestling with these questions out loud. I appreciate the bell curve image you offer, as I exist on one of those outer curves. I've also played male characters from time to time, and enjoy exploring the physical shifts and behaviors; but, my feminine characters also require study. I'm often vulgar, brash, loud, gassy, and distracted (thank you adult ADHD). I'm prettier in makeup but only wear it for stage or photoshoots. Menopause has eliminated the assessing looks of random strangers, which allows me a blessed/cursed invisibility. I'm a woman, though, she/her.
None of which is to deny or interrupt the experience, exploration, experimentations with language and identities you address here. My old school feminism is wrestling with the racist history of the movement, but more fully addresses my personal struggles negotiating my own identity. I just don't quite fit most of the time.
But - let me acknowledge I benefit from the privileges of my mainstream white lady identifiers. It's just that the high heels are never comfortable.
Rejecting my gender stereotype in my youth felt like a rite of passage. I made it through! And so did many of my friends (some more elegantly than others), boys and girls. We did our own thing. We lived our own life. And we thought we had made it easier for others to do the same. I think that's at least a little bit true. But here is stereotyping all over again...with a vengeance!
This is the fire that puberty walks through. It's not easy (did anyone have an awesome puberty?) and I don't think it is supposed to be. I would never wish to be a teenager again, but I would hate to have been robbed of the opportunity to grow beyond what the establishment had in mind for me. When we offer such simplistic solutions to tender and struggling minds we are doing them a great disservice. And the world is weakened by it.
Not everyone will fare as well as I or my friends did. But the more healthy adults we have, the more help will be available for those whose struggles are greater.
Beautifully written, Mo. Thank you for this gentle, yet potent contribution.
Genderqueer folks aren't trying to put other people in different gender "boxes"; we're just wrestling with whether those boxes will be in our lives anymore. Many of us ask the people around us to acknowledge what's changing for us -- for example, by changing the way they address us -- but that's not the same as insisting other people change anything about themselves. I can't imagine a genderqueer person rolling up to you, Mo, and telling you that you can't identify as a woman, for example.
Some onlookers are more interested in this change than others -- especially young people who want to explore it, and older folks who are repulsed by it -- but exploring blurred gender lines is voluntary. No one is forcing anyone to explore different gender identities.
It's bizarre to me that asking for flexibility around gender, and recognition of new gender identities, causes so much fear and distress; only about 1% of the population in America identifies as trans, and all we want is to live our lives.
I had a very brief discussion with a young person awhile back who was struggling with their pronouns. I asked if maybe they didn't need to categorize into a smaller box yet and their response was that they wanted to because they felt that it would help them feel like they belonged somewhere. I don't have fully formed thoughts on that discussion but it stopped me in my tracks. I tend to be thinking along the same lines as yours in this essay. But perhaps my young friend's wishes are where the grey areas of this all lie. How do we make the boxes big enough for all but feel small enough for some to find their people?