I was recently contacted by Jeremy Mann, a researcher I met last year. He’s currently working on an awesome-sounding project to demonstrate the lack of trans and gender-varient folks in history and archives. I’ll let him explain:

I am currently working on research that calls attention to the lack of space and concern in history and archives for trans and gender-variant people.  My goal is to not only point out the ignorance, violence, and accountability surrounding this issue, but to also offer solutions to archivists for how they can better serve all people in safeguarding memory and the past, especially past struggles.  The struggle to be who you want to be in the face of constant oppressions should not be lost, forgotten, or lived over and over again.

Please help me in this research/activism by participating in a questionnaire I developed for the purpose of empowering the “subjects” by centering their voices in my work (rather than me speaking for others).  If you identify as transgender, transsexual, trans, and/or genderqueer, or cross-dressing is a significant part of your life, please take the time to help me keep historians and archivists responsible.

There is a horrific absence of trans and gender-variant people in US and global histories, especially archives.  People in power often use history as a tool to deny other people’s rights, such as gender expression or employment nondiscrimination.  When people and struggle are missing in history/archives, others take advantage of them.  Help me change this.

Here’s the documents you need:

• Consent Form
  • Trans History & Archives Consent Form (Word Document)
  • Trans History & Archives Consent Form (PDF)
• Questionnaire
  • Trans History & Archives Questionnaire (Word Doc)
  • Trans History & Archives Questionnaire (PDF)

You only need one of each, I’ve just included both formats in case one is easier than the other. Email completed forms to jmain@luc.edu by 6/3/2011!

Sorry for the short notice, but I hope you’ll be able to help with this project.

Greetings! Ten years ago, we conducted a short survey of our community’s reactions to the use of descriptive terminology in the professional literature of gender identity issues. Basically, we were interested in reforming the literature so it could speak respectfully about transsexual and transgender persons. To do that, we wanted to find out which terms transsexual and transgender people liked, and which they didn’t like. The results of our study were reported at the 2001 scientific symposium of the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association (HBIGDA), and had an immediate impact on the hundreds of medical and social scientists who were present.

A lot has changed since 2001, and we thought it would be interesting to re-open the survey, collect new data, compare the results 10 years later with the original results, and present our analysis at the 2011 scientific symposium of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (formerly HBIGDA) this September.

We are asking community members to rate and give us their opinions of certain terms which have been used in the literature, and some of the terms put forth by the community itself, so we can communicate the community’s opinions to the members of WPATH and (we hope) more widely in a subsequent academic publication.

There are no physical or psychological risks associated with responding to this survey, and there are no age restrictions for respondents, though we caution participants that some terms offered for your evaluation may be offensive to you or other individuals. The survey has only 8 questions (though most questions have many options to choose from) and should take less than 20 minutes to complete. Please complete it all in one sitting – if you exit the survey before you complete it, your answers will not be saved. The survey is scheduled to close June 28, 2011, so please respond soon!

If you are interested in receiving a copy of the paper which will eventually come from this, you will be given an email address at the end of the survey so you can contact the researchers separate from your responses to this survey. Any communication you initiate with us will not be associated with your survey answers, and no identifying information will be retained. We will treat your email address as confidential and will use it only for distribution of the paper to you. Your answers to the survey also will be treated confidentially, and no data reported in our analysis will be traceable to you.

Here’s the link to the survey:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/8RGBH25

Thank you VERY MUCH for participating in this survey and helping us with our research!!

With Gratitude,
Jamison Green, Jason Cromwell, & Dallas Denny

I’m planning on taking it soon, and will let you know if I have any thoughts.

Hi. I’m Violet. Rebecca has been kind enough to let me have some of her blog space for a guest post, and let me dip my toe carefully into the world of writing for a wider internet audience. Identity-wise, I am a twenty-something white currently-abled trans-female-spectrum genderqueer and sexuality-queer tomboy geek engineer. Except to the extent I’m not. But this post is about identity labels, so bear with me. Rebecca has previously posted about identity labels as keywords here, which I think is awesome, and I wanted to add another different (and geeky) way of looking at them to the discussion. This post is adapted from something I wrote more personally last year.

By “identity labels”, what I mean are nouns and adjectives that you use to describe people — “woman”, “man”, “goth”, “punk”, “masculine”, “feminine”, “trans”, “queer”. These things are useful for communication. Labels can function as a shorthand to tell people about what your life is like. They allow people with attributes in common to find each other and compare notes. I use them a lot.

The problem is that they’re wrong. Or, rather, not quite right. Any time you have an identity, it comes with a pile of stereotyped behaviors that any given claimant of the identity might or might not share, and it tends to reduce the perception of the claimant down to those stereotypes. Oops. (Rebecca, in her keyword post, also got into the possible confining nature of labels imposed by others.)

Now for the geeking out. Don’t worry — if you don’t speak math, I’ll give an example in pictures below.

I often view labels as vectors in some huge or infinite-dimensional vector space. Given a set of labels — say, {male, female} or {straight, queer} or {gay, lesbian, bi, trans, queer, questioning, ally} or whatever — finding out how you identify is a process akin to estimating the projection of your personal self-vector onto the subspace covered by the basis of labels in the set. Of course, that basis is never orthonormal; that would be too clean. It’s not orthogonal or normal at all. It’s just a mess of huge-dimensional vectors that you have to try to match yourself up against, throwing away all those components of yourself that aren’t in directions available to you in that basis. Worse, the self-vector is a function of time. The way you project on to a certain set of labels changes over the course of your life, sometimes even non-continuously. Even the identity labels change over time. Does being a goth mean the same thing now as it did fifteen years ago?

For an example of how my thinking about labels works, people sometimes ask me “are you male or female?” What they mean is usually something like this:

Pick either the male dot or the female dot. Okay, that doesn’t really fit me at all. I certainly don’t fall exactly on one of those dots. How about another picture, where there’s a continuum between male and female?

Hmm. Still not all that great — in this model the extent to which I am female is exactly the extent to which I am not male. I don’t think there’s actually a single coordinate that describes my place on a line for this — what if I am some amount of both? So then you can imagine this picture, an orthonormal basis for gender:

This is better, but I still think it is more complicated than that — “male” and “female” are culturally understood as at least somewhat opposed — being male does have something to do with not being female. So this picture is somewhat more accurate:

But that’s just my identity put in terms of binary gender. Binary gender isn’t a good system for capturing a whole lot of parts of my identity (or anyone’s, I am guessing). There are whole dimensions of identity that have nothing to do with concepts of masculinity or femininity, and exist off the male/female plane, like this (The disc is there to help you picture the three dimensions. In my head there are more than three dimensions involved here, but I don’t think I can draw that.):

In most modern culture, asking about someone’s gender limits your question to the male/female plane, but it’s not evident to me why that particular plane has to be that special. For example, in a lot of situations my geekiness is a lot more important than my projection on to the male/female plane. I’ve even answered the question of “what gender are you” with “I’m a geek” before. And some people’s genders might be completely orthogonal to the male/female plane, which makes answering the gender question in a societally understandable way even harder.

I’m surprised I can do more than just stand and stammer when people ask me the “male or female” question. Those are useful labels to have around, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I find it important to keep in mind that those categories are not mutually exclusive, and they completely miss some dimensions of gender identity. The same goes for any other set of labels you care to pick.

Many identity labels can be used as nouns or adjectives, but others can’t. A hypothetical article that said, “Lesbians polled at the Health Center said XYZ,” wouldn’t raise my eyebrows, nor would “Lesbian women polled at the Health Center said XYZ.” (Other than being a little awkward, since ‘lesbian’ implies ‘woman.’) (But lets not get into that again!)

At the same time, saying, “Blacks polled at the Health Center said XYZ” seems awkward and dated. Using “Jews” or “Italians,” though, doesn’t seem problematic. (I’m picking examples pretty much at random, here.)

What about “transgenders” versus “transgender people”?

My default is to use “transgender” as an adjective: “Transgender individuals polled at the Health Center…” My retroactive justification for this is because I think of being trans as huge part of my identity, but using “transgender” as an adjective conveys that it is only one part of a larger individual. At the same time, that concept could be expanded to any identity that can function as a noun and an adjective, but I don’t have the same emotional reaction to hearing some identities as nouns (Jews, gays and lesbians, etc) as I do to others (transgenders, blacks).

Making things more complicated, I’m realizing that I’m more OK with “transsexual” as a noun than “transgender.” I’m not thrilled with either, but saying , “Transsexuals polled (etc)” doesn’t bother me as much as using “transgenders.”

I’m just not sure why, or what (if anything) to do about it. Is it the type of issue that’s worth bringing up? I feel hesitant correcting people when there is no reason I can identify beyond my own linguistic discomfort, and I’m not even sure if anyone else feels the same way.

1. Gender Identity as it relates to Self Presentation
2. Gender Identity as it relates to Assigned Sex
3. Subconscious Sex as it relates to Assigned Sex

Spectrum 1 was coming from Daisy’s use of cis/transgender at her above-linked post, Spectrum 2 is the commonly-used definition of cis/transgender, and Spectrum 3 is the commonly used definition of cis/transsexual. (If that doesn’t make sense, please take a look at my previous post for a more in-depth explanation of these concepts.)

Basically, Daisy got me thinking about how the commonly-used definition of cis/transgender and cis/transsexual are based off of a a person’s identity as it related to their assigned sex, whereas the definition she was using for cis/transgender was based off a person’s perception of itself as it related to their gender identity. That’s the long-story-short of where the three spectra came from.

With that background out of the way, I have a few more things I’d like to clarify before moving on with this post:

• After hearing Mattie’s thoughts, and thinking things over more myself, I agree that trying to change the definition of cis/transgender is ultimately tilting at windmills
• Perhaps more importantly, it would force people who do identify as transgender to have to massively rethink their own self-identification in a way I’m not comfortable with
• As such, I’ll continue to use the Spectrum 2 (commonly-used) definition of cis/transgender rather than caveating it all the time with phrases like “commonly-used.” Starting….now!

But I still do think there are two big issues which came up in this discussion that are worth examination by anyone at all interested in gender politics and identity issues, and the transgender and transsexual populations in particular:

1. The value of having something along the lines of Spectrum 1 as a more widely-understood concept.
2. The sloppy and problematic nature of the standing definitions of cis/transgender and cis/transsexual

Lets talk about that second point first – I’ll leave the first point for another post.  As I mentioned in my previous post, the words “cissexual” and “cisgender” are structured to mirror “transsexual” and “transgender.” But, looking at their definitions, they don’t mirror them in such a way to avoid all confusion. Here are the definitions I’ll be using, shamelessly stolen from geopunk’s definitions (the only changes I’m making are using cis/transsexual instead of cis/transsexed, and slightly expanding geopunk’s definition of transsexual to include desire as a possible qualification for being transsexual):

Cisgender: Describes a person whose gender identity (and often gender expression) “matches” their assigned gender. This doesn’t necessarily mean that a person has to be comfortable with their society’s determined gender roles.

Cissexual: Describes a person whose physical body (i.e. genitals, reproductive organs, secondary sex characteristics), as far as they know, aligns with their assigned sex — and they have no desire to change their body to conform with their gender identity. Someone can be cissexual without being cisgender; for example, many genderqueer people fall under this category.

Transgender: An umbrella descriptor for a person whose gender does not align with the one they were assigned. May include crossdressing/transvestism, gender fluid, genderqueer, and/or transsexual individuals. Sometimes shortened to trans* (with or without the asterisk) when used to mean “transgender and/or transsexual individuals”.

Transsexual: Describes a person whose body does not align with their gender identity, and either desires to, is planning to, is in the process of, or has completed a process of changing it to align. This process of medical transition may include hormone therapy and/or surgery. There is no “one true way” to go about being transsexual.

I think cissexual and transsexual are pretty successful definitions, as well as being both etymologically definitionally (not a word, but you get what I mean) mirrored. That is, there words themselves imply through their structure that there is no concept in one word that isn’t mirrored in the other. Cis/transsexual describe whether a person’s body aligns with their gender identity.

On the other hand, cisgender and transgender aren’t so beautifully mirrored. Their structure and etymology implies they should be, but they’re not. Specifically, transgender is an umbrella term which contains transsexual – a transsexual individual is inherently a transgender individual – but cissexual person is not inherently a cisgender person.

I’m starting to think this is part of the root cis/trans arguments, because the definitions of cisgender and transgender feel so sloppy that people aren’t able to use them well or with precision. (Also, some people have intentionally gone out of their way to misunderstand how others used cis/transgender, but that goes back to Rule 1*. Not everyone is being intentionally obtuse when having disagreements over the use of cis/transgender.)

For example, crossdressing is generally included under the “transgender umbrella” but it seems narrow-minded to say someone can’t have a male gender identity and enjoy drag queen-ing or a female gender identity and enjoy drag king=ing.

I was recently convinced that, in most circumstances, simply using “trans” or “cis,” without specifying what one means, is problematic. I think the non-mirrored nature of cisgender and transgender feed into this.

I’m not sure where to go from here, though. Mattie convinced me that trying to entirely scrap the definition of cisgender and transgender, to start over, isn’t the path to take. (Even though I still sort of want it to be.) But is it possible to modify the definitions, to bring them greater clarity? I ask for two reasons. First, because I like elegance and having cis/transsexual mirror each other but cis/transgender trip and fail seems inelegant. Second, because that inelegance seems to keep causing problems with how different people define their identity and the identities of others.

Thoughts? I’d love for Cedar to chime in, so maybe I’ll shoot her an email…

*Rule 1: People are stupid.

Penny Arcade makes a counter-argument (click for the original):

Likewise, from their news post:

The incoherency [of this ad campaign] springs from the fact that the spots themselves insult the target of their message, which might work to attract attention, but the actual payload of the spots isn’t savage enough to kindle any kind of genuine analysis. They’re trying to regulate jerks by being jerks, but they’re not really jerks, so they can’t carry it off. This is the danger of assuming that your opponent is anything like yourself. They need to give their actual hatred of this practice a voice, every moment they were compressed into some subset of themselves, every brutal act, every misshapen poem they were forced to write, and concentrate this into a fragmentary lozenge of spoken power.

No-one responds to this kind of diffuse scolding, least of all young men, least of all from strangers who present themselves as archwizards of prim speech and perfect morality. Bigots and stupid kids speak this way expressly to promulgate the root concepts or to provoke a reaction.  Telling them to “knock it off,” as this campaign hilariously does, is like exposing your belly to these wolves.

I just sent the two of them this:

Tycho and Gabe,

I’m a huge Penny Arcade fan, a geek, a lesbian, and a transgender woman. That last label, not surprisingly, is the one that people are most casual about throwing around and using as a weapon – in a society where ‘gay’ is, at least, rarely used as a serious insult on mainstream TV, “trannies” are still open season. So, as someone who would like to see ‘gay’ or ‘dyke’ or ‘tranny’ eradicated as insults for very selfish reasons, I’ve been mulling over the Think B4 You Speak campaign, even before you posted/comic’ed about it.

I think you’re spot on about whether or not the ads will work.

People are stupid. (Call this an axiom of the Greater Internet Fuckwad Theory.) And the Think B4 You Speak ads are not enough of a slap in the face to penetrate that stupidity. Particularly to, as you say, a demographic not known for empathy. I’m sure a lot of ad execs and organizers were able to slap themselves on the back and feel extremely hip and like they really ‘got it,’ and I wouldn’t even be surprised if these ads tested well with the type of teenagers who are willing to test ads. Yet they’re likely not to be read, let alone processed, by their apparent target demographic.

But what’s the alternative to speaking up? And to asking others to think before they speak?

Again, I’m not disagreeing with anything in your posts, or your comic – the ads probably won’t change many (if any) minds, or much behavior. But as someone who has felt powerless, humiliated, and occasionally been placed in physical danger at the hands of the jackasses that these ads are apparently targeted toward, I’m not sure what bigger ordnance there is to bring. As someone who runs not simply the risk of verbal assault, but of rape and murder, for being who she is, I have to applaud GLSEN for trying to do something.

If one jock, or cheerleader, or “gamer guy,” keeps their mouth shut when an insult might have fallen out, this campaign will have been of some value. I’m not going to say “it will have all been worth it,” whatever huge amounts of money obviously went into the campaign, because maybe there was a better use for those funds. (Hell, I would have been thrilled to see those funds go toward beating the shit out of some of the people I ran into in high school.) (Actually, that’s a great idea… I have a charity to go start.)

On that page, though, I’m wondering what you two think might work better. This isn’t intended as a trick question, or a rhetorical device to trap you into revealing that it was those dastardly kids all along; I’m honestly curious. Because, as much as I want to laugh at the ads and write them off as ridiculous (and, again, you did a brilliant job highlighting why they are ridiculous) I’m having trouble of coming up with something much better. Language rarely changes in quick leaps and jumps, so I’m not sure what else to keep doing but slogging along trying to shift it to someplace less hurtful.

Thanks for your time,
-Rebecca

I think it’s high time we admitted it: “Cis” IS an insult.

That’s right. Because by calling you cis, we’re calling you no better than a fucking tranny*, and THAT, my friends, is one of the worst insults we’ve got in US culture. We’re calling you no more real than us, and we’re not real. We’re calling you no more a woman than us, that you deserve no more respect than us, and in your eyes, that means tranny-alert.com, that means Ann Coulter jokes, that means it’s fine for the general public to post videos of your genitals all over the internet with big purple arrows and random fetishizing speculations, and fire you unless you show us photos of your genitals. It’s saying you can’t apply makeup. It’s insulting your penis size and your manhood. It’s saying that the only difference between us is that you think you’re better than us.

Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to have a conversation with Carolyn Ann at CaroLINES about the same topic. (Edit: Carolyn Ann told me to use masculine pronouns, so that’s been changed.)

I noticed a little while back that Carolyn Ann had linked to my summary of the whole cis debate thing, saying:

Rebecca, in what started as an interesting and relatively fair survey that rapidly devolved into a purely partizan piece, makes this point [that the argument in favor of cis boils down to "We'll call you cis-gendered because <insert some reason here>, except when you specifically request that we don't call you, specifically, cis-gendered." - ed.] in the most eloquent manner I’ve seen so far. [Added] But, again – she clearly starts out with her opinion already firmly held; once you realize that, the initial fairness simply comes across as a nothing more than a rhetorical device. She sets you up, and you think you’re going to read an impartial survey and: wham! Any hint of impartiality is tossed out the nearest (very high) window.

I went over in the comments at CaroLINES why I think that characterization of my post is unfair, even though I ultimately agree I did a piss-poor job of being impartial and should have owned up to that at the outset, so I’m not going to get into that here. Likewise, I should have read the four part series of posts he wrote on using cis before I jumped in and tried to start a discussion about it.

Had I done so, I might not have bothered to engage in the first place, as it’s clear he is using a different set of definitions than I am for trans/cis to begin with. From the first post about cis:

The term [cis] indicates that the woman in question was born female; it fully identifies her so. “Trans woman” is not quite as precise: it tells us of a history; the person was born male, but in some way has taken at least some steps to be as physically feminine as it might be possible. The prefix “cis” is used as a qualifier, and as a means of narrowing down an identity.

Trans woman is just as precise as cis woman: they both describe whether or not someone who identifies as a woman was assigned woman at birth. Neither inherently describe physical state, although both come with their own implications. Both are about identity, rather than perception or appearance.

Carolyn Ann continues down a similar path from there, saying later in the post

“cis” is not an attempt to “decentralize the dominant group”. It is an attempt, a blatant attempt, at redefining an entire conversation so that it can’t stray into areas that might be uncomfortable. It’s being able to cry about “cis privilege”; it is not about leveling the linguistic playing field.

From reading other posts, the “areas that might be uncomfortable” seem to be Carolyn Ann’s claim of essential, immutable characteristics of gender (nearer the end) which is also the post where he again references my original timeline.

Yet, here, I would actually almost agree with Carolyn Ann. Yes, the use of cis as a tool for precise language is, in part, about being able to observe, react to, describe, and dismantle cis privilege. You can’t very well push for equal treatment, as Carolyn Ann elsewhere expresses a desire to do, if you can’t describe why treatment is unequal to begin with.

Nonetheless, I responded to Carolyn Ann’s above-linked post, saying that the way pro-cis-usage arguments were being framed seemed inaccurate and that I didn’t appreciate being called a liar.

He responded today, so I’ll use this as an opportunity to respond back (this chunk will be cross-posted as a comment on CaroLINES as well).

I disagree that, when the trans community asked questions about the use of cis, answers were ignored. The fundamental question being asked was, “How should the non-trans population be described?” Cis already exists, but I’m open to alternatives. However, Carolyn Ann has used strawman after strawman while expressing what members of the trans community think, allowing him to claim to have given a full and complete explanation of hiss views and a full and complete refutation of the trans community’s arguments, while ultimately failing to do either.

(For example, Carolyn Ann claim’s “‘I am a woman’ with no explanation or justification is the simplification” of gender. And yet, what’s actually being said is that the definition of woman should revolve around self-identification, not imposed identity. But by setting up an argument that doesn’t exist – that there should be no debate or discussion over what constitutes “woman” – he of course have an easy time knocking it down.)

Ultimately, I’m going to state my disagreement with Carolynn Ann and try to move on. He was totally valid in saying I didn’t do a good enough job exploring why people were against using the term “cis.” But, now that I have done some more exploration and delved more into my own thoughts and attitudes, it seems like he and I simply won’t be able to see eye to eye. It’s become obvious to me that either I’m not making myself clear or Carolyn Ann isn’t willing to listen, and vice versa.

I’ll continue to try and refine my views, and I’ll definitely try to do a better job in the future of listening to those with whom I have disagreements, but I think my attempts at discussion with Carolyn Ann are really going nowhere.

At first, I wasn’t even sure what was making me uneasy. The idea of word reclamation is very attractive as a member of an opressed group, and there is something extremely powerful about turning a word on oppressors. Because, lets face it, “tranny” is not generally used in mainstream media as a positive term. With the exception of an Urban Dictionary link*, most of the top search results for “tranny” are sex sites, as good an example as any of the societal fetishization and objectification of trans women. Searching for “lesbian,” in comparison, brings up links to Wikipedia, Lesbian.com, resources about being gay, etc. That sends a very specific message about what being a “tranny” means, and could actually strengthen the argument that “tranny” should be reclaimed, or needs to be reclaimed. Which is what I used to think.

I’ve changed my mind.

Cedar does a good job pointing out the major problems in the “reclamation” argument in favor of using “tranny” in parts one and two of hir essays on the subject, so rather than try to restate them and fail I will simply quote hir:

I don’t think that the “reclaimed” sense of “tranny” can truly be isolated from that context of trans misogyny & subversivism within queer, trans, and punk communities, at least not for me, and I find it almost as offensive as the original. It’s still a signifier of non- trans woman/cis supremacy–just this time it’s non- trans woman queers, as opposed to cis men.

And…

So, from all these references that aren’t really about trans women, we can gather the following picture of what “tranny” is supposed to represent: sexually polluted, perverted/slutty/sex-obsessed/promiscuous, ugly, bitchy, really-male, exist only for sex, fake, doing femininity wrong/badly/not feminine enough/hyperfeminine.

What, pray tell, does the “gender neutral” “reclaimed” version of “tranny” do to reclaim or reject these concepts? It gets some of them, ok. But it doesn’t hit the most common theme running throughout its use against cis women–doing femininity badly.

That’s really what it boils down to. Whether or not I agree with the “reclaimed” visions, so-called positive uses of “fag” and the-N-word do offer strengthened identities of an oppressed group, outside of the grasp of the oppressors. Indeed, I’m realizing that is the reason I actually like “queer” as an identifier – it offers a (to me) positive identity of non-mainstream sexuality, gender, and expression beyond a “queer=bad” mindset. But I agree with Cedar that “tranny” has no such vision that I’ve seen. Rather, it seems to foster a dismissive view of transgender people (and particularly trans women), and so I’ve tried to stop using it.

Any thoughts from the (usually silent) peanut gallery?

-R

*I do have to give a shout-out for Urban Dictionary’s first entry for “tranny,” and particularly their rather humorous example sentence:

That said, the last few entries for definitions are (shockingly…) transphobic and trans-misogynist**. Go do your part and vote ‘em down!

**A term which may require it’s own footnote***, and is defined by Julia Serano as “Sexism that specifically targets those on the trans female/trans feminine spectrums. It arises out of a synergetic interaction between oppositional and traditional sexism. It accounts for why MTF spectrum trans people tend to be more regularly demonized and ridiculed than their FTM spectrum counterparts, and why trans women face certain forms of sexualization and misogyny that are rarely (if ever) applied to non-trans women. ”

***Nested footnotes!

Casey replied, “I just think I want to be a girl.”

Now, from what I’ve heard from my mom, Susan has been trying hard to help Casey be happy, but she is still having a hard time accepting that the child she thought was a son might really be a daughter. Indeed,  Susan was holding this response, and specifically the words “I think I want,” as evidence to my mom that Casey wasn’t sure what she wanted. That there was still hope Casey would change her mind and realize she was really a boy.

My mom, in turn, was asking me what I thought.

Obviously I’m not inside Casey’s head. And, as someone who is a decade and a half older than Casey, it’s hard for me to say that anyone can know what they want when they’re 10. But I distinctly remember using the same language in my mind, and even when I came out to my parents. And the use of “I think I want” wasn’t because of any uncertainty of my desire, it was because of my fear of failure.

Because, as early as I can remember having a concept of gender, I knew I would gladly switch bodies with any of my girl friends. There was not a doubt in my mind I’d be happier with the prospect of growing up into a woman rather than a man. I fantasized about magical gender-swapping spells, sci-fi mind-transfer rays, alternate timelines, and even more outlandish possibilities (and I still do…see any of my posts on trans fiction for more on that subject). I had no problem asking, “Why am I not a girl?” or saying “If only I was a girl” or “I wish I was a girl.”

(As a side note, when I was maybe 10, I composed an extremely simple song titled after that last one… In the interest of completeness, and because I’ve probably share more embarrassing things on this blog already, here it is:

Oh I wish I was a girl
A very pretty girl
Oh I wish I was a girl
To-day
To-day

If anyone is simply dying for the tune itself, let me know and I’ll write it out. I still remember it…)

But my lack of composing ability aside, why couldn’t I say “I am a girl” or even “I want to be a girl,” or “I would be happier if I were a girl”?

Because I had thought things through so hard, and knew where they might go. I knew I wasn’t really a girl. I knew that my friends might make fun of me, my family might disown me, and I might end up sad and alone if I expressed these thoughts and desires. I knew if I went on hormones I might end up a horrible he-she that everyone pointed and laughed at. (Or maybe I simply air-quotes “knew” those things, because none of them turned out to be true, even if I still have a hard time convincing myself sometimes.)

I am a horrid comparative shopper – I need to read reviews, do price research, bug my friends, and agonize over every decision. More to the point, I like language to be precise and exact. So I had (and have) huge mental blocks about saying things definitively if I thought there was any chance of doubt. And I had doubts out the wazoo!

Every step of my transition has been driven by the same motivations: I am miserable now, and the thought of doing X might relieve some of that misery. I have had a real hard time actually framing things in terms of the transition making me happier, rather than simply less unhappy. And at every step of the way – going back into therapy, seeing a hormone doctor, going on hormones, increasing the hormone dosage, starting to assemble a wardrobe of women’s clothing, coming out to my bosses, going full-time at work, and on and on and on – has been an agony of indecision.

That is, until I actually do it, at which point (after the panic subsides) I’ve said, “Oh! Why didn’t I do this ages ago?”

Coming full circle, I don’t know if Casey will have the same thoughts looking back when she’s my age. I am tremendously jealous of her for having the guts to speak up and claim her identity years before I did (even though I’ve heard the same thing said to me by older trans men and women). And I obviously don’t know if Casey is ‘really’ trans, or just going through a ‘phase’ (as her mother obviously hopes). But it’s entirely possible that Casey’s phrase “I think I want to be a girl,” which her mom hears as “I don’t know if I really want it, and maybe I don’t,” actually means “I want it so badly that I’m scared it can’t possibly live up to my expectations were I ever to attain it.”

I’ve been trying to write the last sentence as “And to that, I can only say, ‘Don’t worry. It will.’” But my desire for specificity of language won’t let me. So instead, I’ll end with this:

Casey, I can’t promise that you “really” want to be a girl, whatever that means. But I can say that, for me, it’s looking like claiming my identity as a woman just might live up to my lofty expectations.

-R