NON-FICTION
Content Warning: references to gender dysphoria, references to transphobia, minor mentions of slurs, swearing
The Myth of Cisyphus. Written by S. Fitzgerald
They keep words from children, so I had no name for what I was until puberty had finished with me. This language is narrow, and strains under even a little stretch. We confuse the plural pronoun, confuse it more when we apply it to flesh. For my part, I have a body that doesn’t announce itself: one of those faces that carried adolescence into the third decade, and hair long for a boy but short for a girl. If I were to pass a pair of strangers, I could be Man to one, and Woman to the other. Child to him, Adult to her. Not that I’d hold it against them: words are kept from more than children. First thing about gender: it’s different from sex. Sex is dictated by biology and while it is neither binary nor fully understood, it’s less slippery than gender. Gender is a clusterfuck. There are no known cultures with no concept of gender. The western view sees a binary of masculine and feminine acting as mutual opposites. But what the west views as masculine and feminine changes with each decade, century, village, city, family. Blue was once for daughters, sons wore dresses into battle. Some cultures have more flexibility, but I am not a Hijra from India nor a Native American Two-Spirit. I am neither a woman nor a man, and this is not uncommon. There are a few major theories about what gender is and where it comes from. Essentialism decrees that whatever it is to be a gender is best explained by biology. But when someone refers to their mother/sister/daughter as a woman, they are not saying ‘person with a female chromosome’, they are saying mother/sister/daughter. Pronouns and gendered language are not technical biological terms denoting karyotype, they are part of the everyday language we use to describe each other socially.
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On the other hand, social constructivism says one’s gender is created and reflected by the world and people around you. Judith Butler’s performativity theory works within this axiom, viewing gender as the stylised repetition of acts. Not a performance in the way an actor chooses to play a role, but in the way some words do more than communicate. To say I do at a wedding or guilty at a trial is to do more than speak, it is to perform an act that instigates a legal process. Butler believes gender performativity is not a matter of choosing which gender you will be today, it is a reiteration and repetition of the norms through which one is constituted. You do not choose the actions that make up your gender, they are taught to you and enforced. If you are raised as a boy, most likely you will act like a boy. If you are dressed and treated like a girl during childhood, most likely you will dress and behave like a girl during adulthood. The theory also indicates that if you were born a boy but look and behave like a girl, you will be seen as a girl. There are caveats with this one. The term “passing” refers to being perceived as your gender identity, and while not every trans or genderqueer person aspires to pass, it is an important goal for many individuals’ transitions. Beyond your circle of support, family and friends, it is when the cashier views your Performance and asks if that’s cash or card, Ms—and you are a Ms. But is there passing for something not recognised? A performance that isn’t clearly male or female fails. I am a queer, sissy, lesbian, tomboy, rather than something else. Even if you learn the rules to break them, communicate ambiguity, androgyny, the audience must understand the language of the actor. A lone figure stands on a stage, speaking gibberish. The
Illustrated by Riley Student Morgan Illustrated by Sample