Transforming Gender Gerald Walton

These two orientations mirror contemporary questions about sexuality, namely, what are the private motivations for being out and known as gay or lesbian? Who gets to decide on being out, or not, and on what basis? What does being out mean in a context where being a sexual or gender minority is a struggle for representation in broader society? How might the “it’s nobody’s business but my own” rationale undermine broader social change?

Passing and outness are personal decisions that are rooted in social politics. So are bathrooms in what has been dubbed the “transgender bathroom wars” by Politico Magazine. Although the film is not a foray into issues of bathroom usage, Transforming Gender offers a critical voice to counter the ongoing public debates about trans* people’s right to use washrooms that match their gender identity. U.S. politicians and others have employed transphobia with aplomb, arguing that predators in women’s clothing will invade the “wrong” bathrooms and assault women and girls. Such notable politicians include the former Governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee, and the current Governor of North Carolina, Pat McCrory, among many others who utter the predictable transphobic tedium of the U.S. Republican Party and their socially conservative agenda. It is certainly facepalm-worthy that bathrooms have become a plank in the Republican political platform. Fortunately, Transforming Gender carries weight in its ability to educate against such ignorance and, in doing so, it can certainly be described as political, or at least having political implications. Unfortunately, those who could learn a thing or two about gender will probably never see it. Parents, students, teachers, and scholars who interested in gender and trans* issues will be drawn to the film; I am not so sure about others.

The politics of everyday trans* life aside, Transforming Gender offers a glimpse into challenges faced by trans* people and, in the case of trans* children featured in the film, their parents. Indeed, perhaps the most moving and educational aspect of the film are the accounts of parents who unreservedly support their trans* children. Parents who respect their children enough to support their social transitions to identify and express themselves as the gender that feels most natural to them are commendable. Unfortunately, such parents are rare; most pressure their children to conform to their assigned gender, belittle their children’s perceptions about their own gender, or reject them outright. It is mentioned in the film, but not explored in depth, that the percentage of trans* youth who are homeless and suffering from mental health issues are disproportionate to their cisgender counterparts. No wonder. The problem, as Hershel Russell explains, is not being trans* itself, but transphobia that operates widely in society.

Also problematic is that, although the film is not a feature length documentary, the notion of being genderqueer is entirely absent. Genderqueer is an identity and gender presentation that disavows the gender binary and normative cisgender expectations. It might also incorporate being trans*, but not necessarily. For people who identify as genderqueer, passing isn’t a priority. The film also overlooks passing as an issue of class. Those in the film who find passing important for themselves have acquired the social, financial, and medical resources to undergo a range of hormonal and surgical strategies to enable the transition. Certainly, it is the case that trans* people are varied in what they can and choose to adopt to help them in their process of transition. However, the film fails to represent those trans* people who do not have such resources, and thus are left vulnerable to the daily risks of harassment and violence that inevitably come with gender presentations that do not conform to cisgender norms.

The omissions that I have identified are not faults with the film. It is not possible, or even desirable or effective, to address every issue on a complex

Fig. 2: Mat Perrault

topic such as gender. One aspect of the film that I will quibble about, however, is the music soundtrack that felt hypnotic and distracting, much like a lullaby. I would have preferred no soundtrack at all. The film would then have taken on a grittier, realist feel, and would have been appropriate, given the stories shared of pain and also joy.

Counter to the slumber-inducing soundtrack, the real strength of the film comes from the drama in stories. In Montreal, Akiko Asano recounts her daughter Mat Perrault’s experiences with bullying, prejudice, and judgment from teachers and adults in the school environment (Fig. 2). Although only a brief remark, the comment is a rather searing indictment of the problems of bullying being perpetuated by adults rather than children and youth. It makes me wonder about the value of teacher education programs if some teacher-candidates enter schools with the capability of harming trans* children with such judgment. Perhaps they need to find other jobs where they would be less harmful to children. Perhaps intake procedures for bachelor of education programs need to screen teacher candidates more carefully.

Daniel Pullen and Annie Pullen Sansfaçon (Fig. 3), parents of their daughter Olie (Fig. 4), echoed similar feelings about the broader community outside of schools. Daniel pointedly asked, “Do I really want to see my kid attempt suicide just for outside communities to feel good?”

Clearly, the answer is “no,” which is why Transforming Gender is such a valuable film for its educational potential. Documentaries should inform and provoke in ways that lead to social change. Shown in teacher education programs, social work programs, and schools, the film certainly answers some of the most basic questions about what it means to be trans* and why it matters to those of us who are not trans*. The Victoria Times-Colonist newspaper referred to the film as “‘Transgender 101.’” Being trans* is not a simple or single story, but it is a series of stories that are varied and diverse. Social politics taking a back seat, Transforming Gender effectively portrays trans* children and adults in ways that are sensitive, insightful, and educational.

Fig. 3: Daniel Pullen and Annie Pullen Sansfaçon Fig. 4: Olie

WizardMode

Directors: Nathan Drillot and Jeff Petry Country/Year: Canada, 2016 Production: Salazar Films Runtime: 1:22:00

Review by Fiona Whittington-Walsh Kwantlen Polytechnic University

Wizard Mode is a Canadian documentary about Pinball World Champion, Robert Gagnon (Fig. 1). The film documents Robert’s rise to fame in the pinball world as well as his day-to-day life in Burnaby, British Columbia (B.C.) where, at 26, he lives in his family home with his parents. Living with one’s parents well into one's adult years is not an unusual phenomenon in B.C. where housing is among the most expensive in the world. However, the focus of the film and why the filmmakers wanted to tell Robert’s story rather than stories of other champions is the fact that Robert is autistic.

Through the use of home videos, Robert’s parents tell us that they knew when he was a baby that, despite being “very cute,” he was different. He had tantrums for no apparent reason, was uninterested in toys, choosing to play with light fixtures instead, and he liked to spin and roll down steep hills. At the age of three, Robert was diagnosed with “autism and mild mental handicap” (Wizard Mode). His parents were informed that their son would most likely never talk, read, or write. With the assistance of a speech therapist, Robert was speaking by the age of seven, and the viewer can clearly see that today he can read and write. The viewer does not see any of the other behaviours other than in home videos leaving them to believe that perhaps Robert no longer has these behaviours.1

When Robert was five, his father introduced him to his first pinball machine, Twilight Zone, in a local burger place. By the age of 10, Robert had his own machine. His mother tells us that Robert playing pinball or other games such as Nintendo, provided relief for the family. They knew that as long as Robert was playing they did not have to worry about him running away. His father informs the audience that a large part of Robert’s success with Pinball is the fact that he “doesn’t like to be a loser. He wants to win” (Wizard Mode). This desire to win also involves studying dozens of pages of rules that accompany some of the machines in order to figure out the game. All of this has paid off for Robert. Robert has been competing in world championships since he

Fig. 1: "I wish I had close friends…I feel like I’m stranded in one place. I have no one else to turn to outside of pinball since I never give myself a chance to socialize outside of it. " - Robert Gagnon: WizardMode.

was 19, won the PAPA Championship in 2016, and is currently ranked seventh in the world (International Pinball Association, 2016).

When thinking about a young man with autism who is a pinball champion, it is hard not to conjure up images of the ultimate pinball wizard from The Who’s 1969 rock opera, Tommy. 2 Also made into a movie in 1975, Tommy is the story of a young man who is deaf, blind, non-verbal, and a pinball champion. Pete Townsend, lead guitarist for The Who and creator of Tommy, explains in his 2012 autobiography that he always envisioned Tommy as autistic.

This idea of people with autism being isolated by their own senses and cut off from social contact is one of the prevailing stereotypes about autism. In fact, most people think about autism by referring to numerous stereotypes that are supported in popular culture including films such as: Being There (1979), Rain Man (1988), Forrest Gump (1994), and Nell (1994); and Sheldon from the TV show, The Big Bang Theory. Some of the stereotypes include the belief that people with autism:

• are incapable of forming close relationships with people and are happier if alone • do not like to be touched • are fixated on physical stimulation such as spinning, swinging, and jumping • have violent aggressive behaviours • are emotionless • are easily over stimulated with noise and lights • are fixated on routine • have remarkable talents due to their fixation tendencies, this is referred to as being a savant • cannot make eye contact • are asexual

When I first heard about Wizard Mode, I immediately assumed it would be showcasing many stereotypes, most significantly the savant stereotype. This is the widely perpetuated stereotype of autism. Dustin Hoffman’s Rain Man character, Raymond Babbitt, is a perfect example. While unable to have an emotional connection to people, he is obsessed with routine, including watching The People’s Court, eating pancakes with toothpicks, and having tapioca pudding for dessert with the main meal of fish fingers. Despite these everyday “difficulties,” Raymond is also a savant. He has an uncanny memory; he remembers the address and phone number of a waitress after having read the phone book the night before. His memory skills also make it possible for him to be able to count cards in Vegas and win thousands of dollars. He subsequently rescues his brother both financially and emotionally. Temple Grandin is perhaps the most famous actual person with autism. She is a professor of animal science at Harvard University, author of several books, an internationally known public speaker, and the subject of an Emmy award-winning made-for-TV biopic starring Clare Danes. Her story is received as a triumph and inspiration, and she is recognized by non-autistic audiences around the world as the quintessential autistic savant.3

While the savant stereotype seems as though it is showcasing positive traits, traits that our society highly values, it is none-the-less a negative stereotype for people with autism. Generally, this is the stereotype that is represented so often that it is assumed that all people with autism are savants. If a person with autism does not have remarkable talent, they are assumed to be “low functioning.” Autism, however, is a spectrum and not everyone on the spectrum acts the same way. There is no “high functioning” or “low functioning.” Each person has their own strengths and weakness just like everyone else. While some people on the spectrum do have behaviours that seem stereotypical, it is a spectrum because no two people are exactly the same. Further, using the term “spectrum” means that while there may be some aspects of the person that are typical of someone with autism, they also may be no different than anyone else in other aspects. The spectrum consists