fear » thisNik

Cultures of Shame

School, Spirituality and Religion No Responses »

Jan 072013

Why do we refrain from doing things which give us joy? What stops us from seeking our highest potential?

The words of others, negating our abilities; the words adopted into our own internal monologues saying we are not enough: not smart enough; not sexy enough; not pretty enough; not creative enough; not religious enough; not rich enough; not enough. We are stopped before we can begin, stymied and stifled with fear and shame, absolutely convinced of our own inadequacy. Why do we do this to ourselves? To those we love?

We do it because we want to fit in, and we want those we love to fit in with us. We may do it because we believe that a person who deviates from our definitions of normal is committing an egregious (and often sinful) error, or out of fear that we may be excluded from the afterlife as we understand it. When identifying those we perceive as different – and saying things like “I’m not racist but…” or “that is so gay/retarded/lame” we do it to reassure ourselves of our own normalcy and therefore innate goodness.

We create a valuation system where normal – something which, incidentally, none of us are – is the only good, and deviation from the construct of normal is a failure. The more apparent the deviation, the greater the shame an individual so perceived often feels, and the greater the derision on the part of those doing the judging. Badness or sin becomes a matter of degree: if you can pass as normal, you’re okay; if you can’t, you’re fucked. Should you have the misfortune of being poor or physically disabled or old or not white or not straight or not a man, you’re going to be judged as less than. You will be shamed for the color of your skin or your gender or your sexuality. The beauty industry is built on just such suppositions: spend more money, buy this cream and this rinse and this diet and you, too, can be successful, beautiful, smart enough!

We do this because we are taught that other is scary and that scary is bad. Fear is something to be met with violence and insults – if we yell loudly enough, the monster in the closet will go away. And while this may work in the short term – we are reassured of our normalcy, the monster in the closet has shut up – in the long term, it can only bring harm. By refusing to acknowledge our fears, to confront that which makes uncomfortable with a willingness to listen and learn, we stunt ourselves. We also bring harm to others by lashing out in anger and violence, telling them to shut up, to act more normal, deny their inner beauty.

In denying our fear, we deny ourselves. We reinforce the myth that we are not worthy of love, that we do not deserve to be treated with respect and compassion. That we are all prisoners of shame and the myth of normal.

If there is one lesson this life has taught me, it is that if you ignore something it does not go away. It may recede into the background for a while, but the next time it comes back it will be even bigger, hairier, and scarier than before. Only in facing our fears – and not with pitchforks and torches – can we release ourselves from the bondage of shame. And that monster in the closet? It may be your new best friend.

Reflections on the Ethical Applications of Love

School, Spirituality and Religion No Responses »

Dec 052012

What moves us?

As human beings, what makes us happy, gives us joy, causes us to grow, shift, change, to care for one another, to desire, to dream, to live?

What binds us together, regardless – or because of – our differences? Love does – but when speaking of the word, I don’t just mean that of a person for their lover or a parent for their child. Nor even do I mean for it to be limited by those a person would say “I love you” to and mean it with conscious thought and interest. Love is larger than that; it is a manifestation of the interconnectedness of all people. “Love is the life energy that animates everything that exists” (Ó’Murchú 200) – from the smallest subatomic particle to people and the movements of the stars. Love is the radical and tangible notion that we are all worthy of respect.

For the self, love is crucial – otherwise we fall to the lessons of a capitalist world: that we are not good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, rich enough, smart enough. We give in to those doubts and fears that are pounded into us from day one. Ó’Murchú writes: “Our current travesty, as a human species, is that we have largely lost the capacity to love and to be lovely…. we are children of an unloved and unlovable ‘God’ which, in the West, we label civilization” (199). Without love, we become inured to beauty, happiness, kindness. Our highest priority becomes excessive self-interest, which differs from self-love in that one’s highest priority becomes self-gratification through the manipulation of existing institutionalized structures through competition with and subjugation of others. In his Letter from a Birmingham Jail, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. touches briefly on Jewish philosopher Martin Buber’s theory of othering. He explains that segregation substitutes an “I it” relationship in lieu of an “I thou” relationship, thereby relegating individuals to the status of things. In the case of segregation, this meant that people of color were denied their personhood – the practical applications of which translated to denial of access to the same education, jobs, healthcare - respect – as people perceived as having skin that was white enough. And while segregation has legally ended in the US, the institutionalized hatred and prejudice directed towards people of color is still very much alive.

We relegate people to thinghood whenever we refer to them as a label. The bum; the junkie; the slut; they are no longer people; their right to life, to love, to respect, has been negated. Why do we do this – how do we do this? How is it that indifference has become the coin of survival in this world? If love connects us all, it follows that we are all worthy of love. This means that none of us may be denied that love. It becomes, then, our duty to treat everyone with the same respect and caring – ourselves included (Noddings). The Dalai Lama invites us to do so, saying “If you can, try not even to think of yourself as better than the humblest beggar. You will look the same in your grave” (Bstan-ʼdzin-rgya-mtsho 237). Even when we do not – or cannot – genuinely act out of love, it is our responsibility to behave as if we were. Respect should not be a privilege reserved for a select few; it is a basic human right, although often denied.

Cruelty

I am hesitant to use the words good and evil; too often they become the province of religion, ascribed qualities of holiness and hellishness, placed at a remove from our human experience. Likewise, sin is a troublesome word, denoting a fall from grace which can be remedied by a few Hail Marys or other ritualistic penance. My primary concern is how we live in this life now, and how we treat ourselves and others. Too often, terms like good and evil and sin and holy and hell remove the immediacy of actions perpetrated in this life now, intellectualizing their consequences and separating them from our experience. Ó’Murchú observes: “Love is a central concept in all the great religions. But it always tends to be personalized, attributed to God(s) and people, but rarely to other species and scarcely ever to the forces of universal life itself” (198). An atrocity is something that happens to me, to my neighbors, to those I love. If that act happened to those outside of my circle, it may be a shame, but certainly none of my business. I am not compelled by love or duty to take responsibility for them because it is none of my business.

Sin, if it is anything, is separation. The act of othering, the denial of responsibility, the lack of respect for others: that is where cruelty comes in. By othering, we place a valuation of ourselves as better-than. To value oneself more highly than others or to value others more highly than oneself is a disservice. When such a valuation is created and maintained, fear, pain, and repression become dominant over honor and mutual respect. This creates a power disparity, resulting in cruelty (Hallie) – often institutionalized and enduring. Philosopher and historian Phillip Hallie, while studying the Holocaust, came to this realization:

Institutionalized cruelty, I learned, is the subtlest kind of cruelty…. in a persistent pattern of humiliation that endures for years in a community, both the victim and the victimizer find ways of obscuring the harm that is being done. Blacks come to think of themselves as inferior, even esthetically inferior (black is “dirty”); and Jews come to think of themselves as inferior, even esthetically (dark hair and aquiline notes are “ugly”) so that the way they are being treated is justified by their “actual” inferiority, by the inferiority they themselves feel. (337)

Cruelty, then, is the end result of a denial of our interconnectedness with one another; the denial of love. And it most often occurs as the result of institutionalized behaviors and attitudes – things which we, as individuals, believe we can do nothing to change. We have been taught that we can do nothing to change institutions because we are not enough – not smart enough or tough enough or savvy enough – because we have been taught to deny our ability to love and be lovely.

In such a world, silence is valued over self-expression. We are encouraged to keep the peace, not rock the boat, be normal, be quiet, don’t make waves. By keeping silent, the majority implicitly validates the perpetuation of institutionalized cruelties. We say that it’s okay for women to earn less than men on basis of their sex (NOW); that queer people deserve to die because of how they love (Becker); that anyone who is different than us is not a person at all, but a thing. That they, as things, are undeserving of love and respect.

It is clear that “hatred is not the opposite of love; indifference is” (Ó’Murchú 206). Indifference, separation, silence: they are all symptoms of our disassociation with love, the outcome of living in fear. Dr. King lamented: “We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people” (368). In order to change that, not only for others but for ourselves, we must free ourselves from fear. We must give in to love. Ó’Murchú says that “love is an interdependent life force, a spectrum of possibility, ranging from its divine grandeur to its particularity in subatomic interaction. It is the origin and goal of our search for meaning” (206). It is that which connects us together and keeps us whole. In many critical ways, the old axiom is true: love shall set us free.

Works Cited

Becker, John M. “BREAKING: LGBT People Should Be Put to Death, Says Aussie Salvation Army Major.” TWO. Truth Wins Out, 22 June 2012. Web. 21 Nov. 2012. <http://www.truthwinsout.org/blog/2012/06/26448/>.

Bstan-ʼdzin-rgya-mtsho. Ethics for the New Millennium. New York: Riverhead, 1999. Print.

Hallie, Phillip. “From Cruelty to Goodness.” Ethics: The Essential Writings. Ed. Marino, Gordon Daniel. New York: Modern Library, 2010. Print.

King, Martin L. “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” Ethics: The Essential Writings. Ed. Marino, Gordon Daniel. New York: Modern Library, 2010. Print.

Noddings, Nel. “Caring: A Feminine Approach to Ethics and Moral Education.” Ethics: The Essential Writings. Ed. Marino, Gordon Daniel. New York: Modern Library, 2010. Print.

Ó’Murchú, Diarmuid. Quantum Theology: Spiritual Implications of the New Physics. New York: Crossroad Pub., 2004. Print.

“Women Deserve Equal Pay.” NOW. National Organization for Women, n.d. Web. 21 Nov 2012.

Reflections on the 2012 Transgender Day of Remembrance

Gender No Responses »

Nov 202012

Today, I have been listening to the winds rattle and shake against the house, punctuating with waves of rain driven hard against the windows. I am thinking about the service I will attend – the first that I have had the emotional fortitude to face – and the event that I will speak at beforehand. Tomorrow is the Trans Day of Remembrance, where we honor those who have died in the past year from transphobic violence. This year, the International Transgender Day of Remembrance website notes that fifty-five trans people were killed because of their failure to conform to someone else’s ideas of gender normative standards.

The 2012 litany, taken directly from the spreadsheet listing deaths from transphobia, reads something like this:

Gunshots to the back.

Strangulation

trauma to body

Multiple gunshots (13)

Multiple gunshots (7) to the head, neck, and back.

Gunshot

Skeleton found with bullet fragments near body

Neck wounds, burned, thrown in a ditch.

Stoned and beaten to death

Gagged, had pieces of wood inserted into anus. Penis burned with alcohol.

gagged, multiple stab wounds, neck slit

Severe head and neck trauma

Gunshot

Burned and throat slit.

Gunshot wound to the face.

Gunshot to the back and head

Multiple gunshots (11)

throat cut, partial decapitation, genitals stuffed in mouth.

Gunshot

Burned to death

These brief notes – remnants of a life extinguished – are all that remain for many. In most cases, these deaths will go unlamented and unpunished (Bettcher), these ‘embarrassing deviations’ from arbitrary cultural standards swept under the rug of normativity. Violence, harassment and prejudice become the just desserts for those who dare to live their lives in a way at odds with what society has assigned them.

While TDoR stands as an extreme example of the bias trans people experience in their lives, we experience harassment and judgment on a regular basis simply for being perceived as failing to conform to societal standards. A recent study noted that transgender people are four to five times more likely than the general population to live in poverty (Martin), and that they are likelier than other populations to attempt suicide, experience difficulty in obtaining employment and housing, experience discrimination in healthcare, and more.

These days, I’m fairly lucky: I pass as a white guy most of the time, which means that the worst people will generally toss at me are cries of “Faggot!” from the window of a speeding car. I can’t really blame them, either – if I were them, I would be jealous of my fashion sense, too.

Victims of transphobic violence are generally not white, nor are they largely masculine-identified. Far and away, most of the people killed are people of color who were assigned female at birth, are low income and sex workers. As the deviations from perceived norms pile up, so does the likelihood that a person will become a victim of violence (Stotzer).

Put another way: because I look like a preppy white guy, I get treated like a preppy white guy, which means that people treat me with respect – and a little fear – simply by virtue of my gender presentation and skin. If someone looks like your definition of a black, badly dressed drag queen – someone you’ve never seen outside of fetishized porn or an episode of Jerry Springer – then you’re going to treat them like a circus act instead of a person. Because they aren’t white. Because they don’t pass as your idea of a woman. Because they look like your idea of a prostitute. Because they must be poor, and uneducated, and a drug user and have all the STDs besides.

Clearly, such a person is not a human at all. They are merely a farce for the amusement of whomever comes along, and clearly they deserve the consequences of daring to look and be so very outrageous. And while you’re protesting that you would never treat someone differently because of how they look, I would invite you to think of the things you feel or think of when you see a homeless person on the street, or a celebrity in the supermarket. It is very likely that the feelings these situations bring up are very different – in one case, perhaps an obscure sense of guilt or annoyance, and in the other, an excitement and need to interact if at all possible.

However, in both cases, these people are human beings. The only real difference lies in the way we perceive them: in one case, undesirable; in the other, unattainable. Both are worthy of dignity and respect as human beings. And that’s what it comes down to, really: basic respect for other people.

Just because someone isn’t your idea of normal doesn’t mean that they’re a freak. It must means you haven’t met them yet. Respect is something that we all deserve as human beings – it should not be the reward of passing as normal, especially where normal is white, middle class, able bodied, cisgendered, heterosexual and male. Far too many of us do not conform to those norms – and they’re damn poor standards to judge a person by, besides. If we are going to privilege something, let it be qualities like compassion, service to our fellow humans, and a welcoming orientation to everyone regardless of perceived differences.

Works Cited

Bettcher, Talia Mae. “Evil Deceivers and Make-Believers: On Transphobic Violence and the Politics of Illusion.” Hypatia 22.3 (2007): 43-65. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 19 Nov. 2012.

Martin, Michelle. “Study: Discrimination Takes A Toll On Transgender Americans.” NPR.org. National Public Radio, 28 Mar. 2011. Web. 19 Nov. 2012.

Smith, Gwendolyn A. “Transgender Day of Remembrance.” Transgender Day of Remembrance. N.p., 2007. Web. 19 Nov. 2012. <http://www.transgenderdor.org/>.

Stotzer, Rebecca L. “Violence Against Transgender People: A Review of United States Data.” Aggression & Violent Behavior 14.3 (2009): 170-179. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 19 Nov. 2012.

Queerly Allied

School, The Journey No Responses »

Jan 122012

Have you ever been in the situation where your identity makes you the automatic authority on all things related to that facet of yourself? It’s something I experience fairly often at school, as the resident openly queer queer. I’m certainly not the only one there, but the on-campus presence is small enough that I am often the most vocally (and arguably radically in certain aspects) queer-identified individual present. Between that and a belief in enacting the change I want to see in the world, this means that I can’t let myself bitch about the lack of infrastructure for support of queer people and let it go at that. I’ve got to do something about it.

And it’s not because my school is not accepting and welcoming; that is far from the case. There are more non-gendered single occupancy bathrooms on campus than you can shake a stick at — and if you think this is unrelated, just consider what it’s like to go into a public bathroom as a transgendered person in fear of assault from people policing your gender when all you want to do is pee in peace. The university, while being Catholic, is also progressive, rooted in social justice, dialogue and active acceptance of a diversity of perspectives.

The problem is that none of this is explicitly stated where queer people are concerned. There exists support for students with disabilities, veterans, returning students, older students — there is a food pantry, a prior learning program, ESL integration, and the list goes on — but nothing for queer students. Nothing.

Now, this is not unusual for a university of this size, especially considering that it is a non-residential private university with religious roots whose primary student population is over the age of thirty and often resides at distance. In fact, one of the ways in which the school I go to is unique is that it does not bar or place restrictions on an LGBTQ Alliance. There is, in fact, an officially recognized – but presently inactive – LGBTQ Alliance in existence at the school. So the difficulty lies more in the fact that not enough students have consistently voiced a need for actively queer-accepting support and resources or that perhaps no one has assembled a tool kit of existing community resources and made them available to the student population at large.

In early October, I showed up to the first student governance meeting. While I’m sure that there were other queer-identified people there, I was the most vocal about making sure queer perspectives were included. By virtue of that fact, I became the Resident Queer Activist almost by default. I’ve spent the intervening time between now and then looking at the areas that the university could offer support and considering what that would look like. There is definitely room for positive change – and the good thing is that it seems that the student population is interested in helping make it happen.

Today, I spent the afternoon being a professional homo (in the I’m volunteering my time sense) at a Club Rush event for my school. It was pretty epic, as we were without power for the first half of the event, and only got lights back as it was too dark to see and we were ready to pack it up. I saw two students who were unaffiliated with any clubs during the entire time, but both of them were interested in the as yet non-existent LGBTQ Alliance Club.

Even with such a light turnout, I am actually cautiously optimistic about the club – or at least creating *some* sort of infrastructure that is explicitly welcoming and supportive of queer students. There were some fabulous activist-minded folks affiliated with other groups and the Student Leadership Council, and there is definitely room to build something that will be self-sustaining as a resource for queer students – and, possibly just as importantly, the communities and families from which they come.

Every person who came by my table had a story to tell: a relative who was transitioning despite a desperately conservative and deeply religious family; a gay daughter expecting her first child; friends, cousins and siblings who were queer. Every person who came by the table today identified as an ally, and every person evidenced a desire for the presence of a club or something queer-focused so that they would have a safe space to learn and help create positive social change. And while the queers were not out in force today, they have responded via an interests survey. It is clear to me that there is a need for something to serve not just the queer population at my school but also our allies – something which is inclusive, and provides a space for education, dialogue, and support.

In fact, it may be our allies who need this resource the most: people whose children have just come out, or whose co-worker is in transition. While not queer themselves, these are people who still experience an identity shift; they have to change the way they think about a person, and it may bring up issues around religion, politics and morality. There’s a lot of change that happens when a person that comes out of the closet, and a lot of it happens in the community in which the person lives. Their friends, acquaintances and loved ones have to learn new ways to think about the world.

Where, though, exists the safe space for people to learn about what a queer or transgendered identity means? The university is a natural choice; it is a place of learning which welcomes a diversity of experience and works to foster positive social change through dialogue and mutual respect. The university has the potential to provide space to learn in a safe way that doesn’t involve finding the nearest gay friend and asking them potentially inappropriate or disrespectful questions. Given the unique considerations of my school, queer visibility and support is crucial not just for the LGBTQ populations but for their allies as well.

Transphobia and the Need for Trans-Positive Education

Gender, School No Responses »

Mar 132011

We are taught from our earliest experience that heterosexual and cisgendered identities are “normal,” and that any variation from these norms is deviant and substandard. Consider the popular usage of the term gay, which has come to mean substandard, effeminate, and flawed. The word gay has become a derogatory slur used as unthinkingly as people use pejorative terms like retarded and lame. Sexual orientations and gender expressions which fall outside of a heteronormative framework are trivialized, ridiculed or met with violence. As noted in Violence Against Transgender People: A Review of United States Data: “Studies conducted since 1999 have shown that transgender people are the victims of a great deal of sexual violence, specifically sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, rape, and attempted rape. In addition, this violence is often being perpetrated specifically because of their gender identity or expression” (Stotzer 173). To change this, we need to challenge the ways in which people think. In lieu of overwhelmingly negative exposures to non-heteronormative individuals, we need to provide access to positive examples of individuals and cultures, and we need to start early. By providing access to ongoing education around transgender identities and challenges to a wider audience, we will take concrete steps to alleviating one of the major stumbling blocks which negatively affects the lives of gender non-conforming people: transphobia.

The term transgender in this essay is used as an umbrella term which is meant to be inclusive of all non-cisgendered expressions and identities, including transsexual, genderqueer, intersex, MTF, FTM, non-gendered, and so on. Cisgender is used to describe those whose gender identity is congruent with their assigned sex at birth (Rapier 3). All terms used in this essay are intended as categorization for the sake of dialogue only and should not be considered infallible definitions of any person’s gender identity or expression.

As of the writing of this essay, I identify as genderqueer, transmasculine and queer. Like many people who are visibly non-normative, I have been the victim of transphobic behaviors and prejudices – in the workplace, in public restrooms, and on the street. As Patrick Califia reflects in Life Among the Monosexuals, “I cannot imagine a life that is not full of stress and secrecy about conflict with my body, hormones, and secondary sex characteristics” (148). That stress – the external pressures to suppress myself in order to conform to normative social expectations – has strongly informed the person I am today and the work I do in this world as an activist and educator. I do, however, believe that by challenging what we define as socially normative and preferential – specifically heterosexuality and cisgendered identity – we can help create a future where being non-cisgendered is not a source of shame which puts an individual at risk of increased violence and lower quality of life (Stotzer 171).

What is transphobia? A phobia is generally defined as a mental condition which results in irrational fear and terror of its subject. Transphobia is one of the few conditions called a phobia (with other notable exceptions including homophobia and biphobia) where the definition includes violence and discrimination against another person. Therefore, transphobia is fully defined as an intense dislike or fear of those who are perceived as failing to conform to heterosexual and cisgendered social norms of gender presentation, and manifests as hatred, discrimination and violence against non-normative individuals. If this phenomenon was an –ism, like racism or ableism, such behavior would be called a hate crime. In referring to it as a phobia, violence against transpeople is implicitly excused; the perpetrator defends their actions as the result of irrational terror. Transphobia, then, shifts the blame of violence and discrimination from its perpetrator to the victim. By virtue of identifying or being perceived as someone who is non-gender normative, the individual becomes deserving of whatever prejudice or assault that may be visited upon them.

Talia Mae Bettcher notes the ways in which transphobia as a blame-shifting tool was utilized in the case of the murder of the transwoman Gwen Araujo in Evil Deceivers and Make-Believers: On Transphobic Violence and the Politics of Illusion.

The murder itself was subsequently surrounded by suggestions that Araujo had herself engaged in wrongdoing (namely “sexual deception”). For example, Jose Merel (charged in the murder, but pleading innocent) was quoted as saying, “Sure we were angry. Obviously she led us on. No one knew she was a man, but that’s no excuse for anyone to hurt someone. I don’t believe two wrongs make a right” (Fernandez and Kuruvila 2002). Accusations of wrongdoing were also embedded within murder-excusing and blame-shifting rhetoric. For example, Jose Merel’s mother Wanda Merel was quoted as saying, “If you find out the beautiful woman you’re with is really a man, it would make any man go crazy” (Reiterman, Garrison, and Hanley 2002).

Ultimately, these tactics resulted in reduced sentences for the perpetrators; Merel and Magidson received sentences of second-degree murder, and Cazares that of manslaughter. None of them were judged guilty of a hate crime (Bettcher 45).

If transphobia is the result of discrimination and violence against people who identify as or are perceived to be other than cisgendered, one might ask how it is different from homophobia. While it is true that there are intersections of prejudice, they are separate issues, as homophobia is primarily concerned with sexual choices whereas transphobia is enacted based on gender expression. To put it succinctly, homosexuality, which is in this case inclusive of queer, bisexual, lesbian, gay, asexual, pansexual and other sexual orientations, is concerned with who one loves. Transgender identity is concerned with who one is. Transphobia can and does regularly occur within the LGB community.

Why does transphobia occur among people who are often considered our closest allies by the heterosexual, cisgendered majority? While LGBT is a very short acronym, it covers a lot of disparate identities. As illustrated above, sexual orientation and gender identity are two very different things. While queer and transgender people are both oppressed by a heterocentric and cissexist culture, it is more acceptable to be gay or lesbian than it is to be transsexual or genderqueer. Issues of transgender equality and discrimination are often the first to be dropped from LGBT political platforms, effectively making them only concerned with mainstream LG (and only sometimes) B individuals. As mentioned in Bisexuality and Transgenderism: InterSEXions of the Others, “The path to this end has largely been gender appropriateness and accommodationism, with the significant but single exception of same-sex preference.” (Alexander and Yescavage, 48.) Organizations which putatively claim to speak for all LGBT people regularly discard or completely disregard issues of transgender equality and justice, speaking instead only for lesbians and gays who ‘pass’ as socially normative. That is great if you’re a lesbian who is “just like” your straight neighbor, but disastrous for anybody who identifies or is perceived as other than gender normative. Alexander and Yescavage go on to say that “prejudice in gay and lesbian communities against bisexuals and transgender [individuals] is heterosexism because it is an accommodationist attempt to disavow these more ‘radical’ forms of sexuality” (53).

At its root, transphobic acts are the result of heterosexist attitudes enacted by oppressors against non-normative victims to enforce a heteronormative paradigm and suppress what they see as deviant behaviors. But what causes this? Why do people feel the need to exercise violence against people they perceive as different from them? In Gender Differences and Correlates of Homophobia and Transphobia, Nagoshi, et al, noted the following:

The finding of Wright et al. (1999) that lower education was associated with greater homophobia is consistent with numerous studies showing that lower education is associated with a range of prejudices against social outgroups (Sullivan et al. 1985). Lower education, in turn, is associated with right wing authoritarianism, defined as the combination of submission to government authority, approval of authoritarian aggression to maintain social order, and conventional social beliefs (Altemeyer 1981), which is also predictive of a range of prejudices against social outgroups (e.g., Heaven et al. 2006) (524).

They go on to say that “similar to what has been found for homophobia, for both men and women, transphobia was found to be highly correlated with socially conservative attitudes emphasizing adherence to rigid conventional social norms” (529).

In the cases of both homophobia and transphobia, socially conservative attitudes and lower education were key factors. This strongly suggests that individuals who are prone to transphobic behaviors have not been exposed to non-cisgendered people in positive ways. Indeed, this is hardly surprising, given that the most common stereotype of transgendered people in the media is generally linked with either the fetishization of them or treating them as sideshow circus acts – men “masquerading” as women and vice versa. It is clear that comprehensive access to diversity education around trans-identified individuals is needed to answer this need. In Homophobia, Transphobia and Culture: Deconstructing Heteronormativity in English Primary Schools, authors DePalma and Jennett state that “homophobia and transphobia are cultural phenomena and can only be addressed by purposefully promoting the equality of LGBT people as part of a broader whole school ethos which celebrates diversity and challenges inequities of all kinds” (16).

While some programs do exist to educate on transgender issues, access to them is limited and sporadic. Educators often opt to not discuss issues of gender or sexuality at all for fear of reprisal by fundamental religious groups. By being silent on these issues, however, they become complicit in the furtherance of transphobia. When the definition of “normative behavior” remains unchallenged, it enforces the notion that only that which is defined as normal is socially acceptable, and all other expressions, behaviors and identities are shameful. DePalma and Jennett note “the concept of ‘normal’ erases the processes by which the normal is constructed: who gets left out when one draws a circle around a particular group of insiders?” Normal is not particularly inclusive, and a rigid understanding of normal as only cisgendered and heterosexual means that anyone who identifies otherwise gets left outside the circle, cut off from protection and subject to violence and discrimination. By improving access to diversity-based educational models and resources, by including transgender people and experiences in the educational curriculum, we can help bring an end to transphobia.

Works Cited

Alexander, Jonathan, and Yescavage, Karen. “Bisexuality and Transgenderism: InterSEXions of the Others.” Journal of Bisexuality 3.3/4 (2003): 1-23. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 28 Feb. 2011.

Bettcher, Talia Mae. “Evil Deceivers and Make-Believers: On Transphobic Violence and the Politics of Illusion.” Hypatia 22.3 (2007): 43-65. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 28 Feb. 2011.

Califia, Patrick. “Life Among the Monosexuals.” Journal of Bisexuality 5.2/3 (2005): 139-148. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 28 Feb. 2011.

DePalma, Renée, and Jennett, Mark. “Homophobia, Transphobia and Culture: Deconstructing Heteronormativity in English Primary Schools.” Intercultural Education 21.1 (2010): 15-26. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 28 Feb. 2011

Nagoshi, Craig, et al. “Gender Differences in Correlates of Homophobia and Transphobia.” Sex Roles 59.7/8 (2008): 521-531. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 28 Feb. 2011.

Rapier, Nik. “TransEnough Lexicon.” TransEnough.com. TransEnough, 21 Jan 2010. Web. 08 Mar. 2011.

This paper was originally written for Writing 223 E, taught by Professor Denning at Marylhurst University, Winter Quarter 2011.

Cad tá agam?

Spirituality and Religion, The Journey No Responses »

Nov 302010

Let’s start with what you know, Nik. When you were a child, you wanted to be a priest. Well, sure. You also wanted to be an astronaut, a rockstar, president, and a superhero. Somewhere along the line, you realized or were told that you couldn’t be a priest, and thought that nun maybe sounded nice, although it didn’t fill the same spot. The image of being cloistered away praying for the salvation of the world or quietly performing social service didn’t sound as right as a more active ministry. And you still thought being a superhero sounded cool.

Okay. So somewhere along the line, you realize that maybe Catholicism isn’t such a good match – or at least not the as-told-to-me-by-Rome version you’re raised in. You seek a little further afield, and think that you might find a home within another Christian denomination – say Southern Baptist. You take the bus clear across town to go to church, and the people are all very nice (as well as several tax brackets above your own). You’re a girl, but you can still do missionary work, or better yet, marry a nice boy and become a missionary’s wife. You’ll be serving (people who didn’t ask for it in the first place) by saving souls (into a faith which doesn’t necessarily have any resonance or relevance to their everyday life) from eternal damnation (a concept which you increasingly consider to be an abstraction) by accepting Jesus Christ into their hearts as their personal Lord and Savior (as you’re thinking about personal culpability and the need for people to save themselves.)

Well, hell (that place you’re not sure you believe in anyway.) This isn’t really working out at all – especially with this growing sense of personal identity that you’re starting to come to grips with. A problem indeed, in the framework you were raised with, and while you’ve suppressed or ignored it for a long time, the fact is that you’re not heterosexual. Or cisgendered. Mmm, now that is a quandary, as everything religion has ever told you says that you’re going to hell (there’s that place again) simply by virtue of being who you are.

Maybe this religion thing isn’t for you, after all, and maybe you can fulfil your call to serve others through social work, or activism, or volunteerism. Maybe you just need to go play some more video games and save the world that way. Regardless, you’ve got other things to worry about right now, like how to integrate this identity into your world, how you’re going to live, and how you’re going to stay alive and sane. Happiness comes in pieces with a developing sense of authentic self, contentment with building community, adventure and creativity and doing things for the first time that you never thought you would do because you were too afraid of what others might think. Personal responsibility is pretty neat stuff. And it’s a long road, but you’re also working on what personal responsibility means, and it comes to mean compassion and acceptance and respect. You consider love to be central to your life, and believe wholeheartedly in the inherent goodness of humankind.

And you’re starting to raise the lid on Pandora’s box of religion again. You’ve peeked in a few times over the years, and found a seething mass of anger, confusion, process – streaked with a deep affinity for the rituals to which you were first exposed, passion in faith, a buoyant joyfulness in moments of connection with everything, richness of community and unconditional love. But you’re stoic about this, because this stuff can make you into a sullen tear-streaked teenager again without much work; you left this behind years ago (didn’t you?) and you’ve been told time and again (by other people) that you can’t be authentically you and still have faith.

So why are you prying at this, scratching like a not-quite-healed scab that itches? Slather it with some lotion, pop some ibuprofen, and move on. Deaden the nerves and don’t feel it, don’t process it, don’t dare to be moved by it. Mask the problem by suppressing the symptoms.

But the problem is still there. And it’s manifest in a growing realization of personal fragmentation – a sense that you’re not whole, that by not being true to yourself in all areas of your life you’re short-changing yourself. You’re not living up to your full potential, which means you’re not taking the best care of yourself which means you can’t take the best care of others. So you’ve come late but at last to school again, and you’ve been sitting with this and talking this and taking that word – faith – out and polishing it by squeaks and starts and seeing if it fits. Removing religion as you know it from the association, and finding other words – spirituality, interdependence, co-creation, creative manifestation, loonyverse. You’re framing your feelings and experiences with words, learning to articulate this mess, untie the Gordian knot and, perhaps, make a tapestry.

And that desire/need/call/passion (what is it?) to serve (how?) humanity/the greater good (what is that?) /the loonyverse/ all of us together, everyone (that’s a tall order)/ people, queer people (every single one?)/ people struggling to reconnect, people looking to find their authentic selves, people hungry for faith in something (I don’t care what you believe so long as you believe it and don’t harm others in the practice)/ humankind-unplugging-defragmentation-reconnecting-creating/re-creating/recreating-joyful-present-interconnection/we’re all in this boat together people. One person at a time, one connection at a time, one moment at a time, one breath at a time, making this world a better place. For all of us. Together.

Spider Dance

The Journey No Responses »

Sep 272010

I hate spiders.

I hate spiders in a religious inquisition, burn first ask questions later, hunt them all down and make them feel lots and lots of pain sort of way. With a little thinking I can tell you every single movie or television episode I’ve ever seen that had spiders in it – the seventh season of Buffy, the third Lord of the Rings movie, several times in the Harry Potter series, and so on. They give me nightmares and heebie-jeebies and the creepy crawlies if I think about them too much.

Logically, I know that spiders serve a purpose – they keep insect populations down, and make webs, and do other neat spidery stuff. But I also know other facts: that there are twenty-five thousand spiders per square acre, and that a person will eat an average of ten spiders in their lifetime. They have eight eyes and eight legs and shoot their webs from what would be on a person the base of their spine. Spiders are not insects at all – they are arachnids, a higher order in the invertebrate hierarchy – or at least one with larger creatures.

And that’s the problem: larger and more. Sure, a preying mantis can get pretty large, or a june bug might span your hand, but spiders can become larger than your head, with their millions of eyeballs and legions of legs, and those chop choppity pincers and faster-than-Superman sidewise gallop. So I am grateful that I am an owner of cats who like to prey upon these miniature creatures of terror, as they keep the visible count of spiders down to a bare minimum (even if I know the hordes are still there, just out of sight, seething and clacking their creepy little pincers.)

Unfortunately, the cats were not with us tonight. My partner and I had gone out for dinner, and decided to follow it up with dessert at a sweet little place near our house. In the cool darkness of early fall, the cheerful host seated us outside on the very edge of a covered patio. As we began to eat our treats, I noticed something on the edge of my hand – a daddy long legs.

The fact that a daddy long legs is not, technically, a spider and cannot actually bite people is the only thing that saved me from screaming bloody murder then and there. Nevertheless, daddy long legs are close enough in appearance and demeanor that I was sufficiently creeped out to do the Seated Spider Dance. The Seated Spider Dance consists of a series of violent waving motions of the hands in all directions to the counterpoint of arrhythmic bodily jerks and punctuated with the random flailing of one’s head. There is often vocal accompaniment as well to the tune of “ewewewEwwwwwwEWEWEWWWW! Blalalalala-la-lahhhhh. Is it still there? Blalalalaalaaaahh. Ew! Gleah!”

Having finished the Seated Spider Dance, I returned to my meal, laughing ruefully and occasionally running my hand over my head to make sure that the daddy long legs had not remained a passenger on my body. I got perhaps three bites further into my dessert when my partner got a peculiar look on his face and said “Um, Nik? It’s still there.” After ascertaining he wasn’t kidding, I rapidly vacated my chair and engaged in a full rendition of the Leaping Spider Dance, much to the entertainment of everybody else on the patio. Certain I had dislodged my unwelcome passenger, I checked in with my partner – who said the dreaded words: “it’s still there.”

Moving to his side, I suavely asked him to remove the offending creature. “EWWWWW. Get it offgetitoffgetitofffff! Please!” In an effort to assuage my mounting hysteria, he brushed it away, and assured me that he’d gotten it.

Gingerly, I sat back down, now twitching regularly as phantom spiders crawled across the back of my neck… to note a look of consternation settle onto my partner’s face. “Nik. Don’t. Move.” Stealthily as a tiger sighting its prey, my partner grabbed his napkin and advanced on the beastie, which had settled onto my shoulder like an unwelcome mascot. While I endeavored to stay still, he reached out and brushed the daddy long legs away, sending it hurtling into the darkness once and for all. I celebrated by doing a reprise of the Leaping Spider Dance before returning to my dessert.

As we finished up, I commented that I was quite ready to quit myself of the locale. My partner responded that the daddy long legs was long gone, but as I looked down and noticed another spider making its way across the table, I made up my mind to only get desserts to go from here from now on.

Giving Up Lent

Spirituality and Religion, The Journey No Responses »

Feb 172010

It’s been a long time since I’ve had ashes painted on my forehead, and yet…

The rich smell of incense and ritual, rolling over me, as I stand in communion with other worshipers, repenting my sins and celebrating salvation. Resolving to set temptation aside, I receive the priest’s blessing in the sign of a cross.

Give up the present to further purify the body, mind and soul for the hereafter. Deny thy body, deny thyself, that you may come to a fuller understanding of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Pray for forgiveness for your many transgressions, and know that God the Father will forgive and absolve you (so long as you aren’t gay, don’t have premarital sex, don’t have protected sex, aren’t trans, or otherwise so sinful you automagically go to hell do-not-pass-go-do-not-collect-two-hundred-dollars).

This year, I’ve decided to put aside putting this world aside, and work at being more fully present, and to move from guilt to grace. Each and every one of us deserves to know how beautiful we are, how we deserve to be free of shame for being the unique people we are, and how we each have the right to create, love, and be loved in return.

Easy to say, but hard to do, and something which will take more than forty days – but it’s a start.

Contents Under Pressure: Public Bathrooms

Gender No Responses »

Dec 312009

The pressure is building: hips gyrating to their own herky-jerky rhythm in a vain attempt to escape your overfilled bladder, you shift uncomfortably and consider your options – where to pee. Both bathrooms are busy, and there’s no chance of slipping in unnoticed to do your duty and be done before anyone notices you. Desperately wishing you hadn’t taken that extra sip of water, you take a big breath, pull down your hat and plunge into the bathroom, passing a prayer up to whatever gods you worship that no one calls you out.

While voiding is a human necessity, it does not always follow that it is a human right to do so in peace, especially when someone who falls outside the narrow standards of the binary gender system is presented with either a boy’s or a girl’s restroom. For someone androgynous, or who may not pass as their preferred identity, or whose identity is nebulous – someone who doesn’t “pass” as either male or female – there is often a risk in using a gendered restroom in a public place. If one enters the women’s bathroom, they may be taken as a man invading women’s space: at the least, a pervert, and at the worst, a sexual predator. Should a person choose to brave the men’s restroom instead, they may be taken as a victim, asking for trouble; someone who deserves to be taught a lesson on how to better conform – usually involving physical violence or sexual assault. In a best case scenario, one may get off ‘light’ with funny looks or maybe some muttered comments.

Given the risk, it’s often easier to just hold it and pray you make it home before you pee your pants.

Peeing in the privacy of your own home may be the safest route, but it may not be the healthiest long-term choice. Enforcing a habit of “holding it” can lead to lead to serious health conditions: bladder infections, chronic constipation and more. It may have a negative effect on your mental health as well, as you figure out the balance of public space and private pee time, causing undue stress. Opting to not utilize public bathrooms might also affect your self esteem; by not feeling comfortable to go into the restroom of your choice, you’re letting the socially indoctrinated binary gender structure keep you firmly where it would like you to be, instead of you being where you want to be.

Peeing In Peace

So what are the options? Do you need to acknowledge that you may always be at risk when using a public bathroom? Should you just stick a cork up your butt and forget about it?

Check out the area beforehand.

If you get a chance, check out where you’re going beforehand: give them a call or walk on in to see what the facilities are like. Look to see if they’ve got single-stall restrooms, or a unisex option. Ask yourself how safe you feel here, and listen to your gut. If there isn’t a bathroom you’re comfortable with right there, is there another option nearby? Gas stations and small restaurants will often have single stall restrooms where you can do your business in peace.

Use the buddy system.

If you don’t feel safe but need to go, grab a friend to go with you. Flocking isn’t just for birds; having someone along will discourage most people from harassing you, as no one wants a witness to their ugly moments. Busy bathrooms are also safer; while this may seem counterintuitive, a busier bathroom means that people will be concentrating on doing their business instead of checking out their neighbors.

Check out what other people are saying.

Just as everyone pees, so does everyone have an opinion about where they do so – and in many cases, they’ve put it down as a matter of public record. There are several websites and projects out there that provide feedback on public bathrooms:

Safe2Peeis the largest international listing of genderfree or locked single stall bathrooms.
- Safe2Pee Mobile provides an on-the-go directory search for all mobile devices with internet access.
- Safe2Pee Resources Page is home to a good listing of local area safe space bathroom projects.
- The Bathroom Diaries, founded in 2000 discloses the dirty (and clean) of over 12,000 bathrooms in 100+ countries.
- Sit or Squat provides listings for over 76,000 bathrooms and features mobile apps for both the iPhone and Blackberry, as well as an SMS mobile option.
- MizPee is available both online via mobile browsing. It provides listings for the US, Canada and Europe, and users have the option of signing in to add new bathrooms and keep track of their favorite restrooms.

Respect yourself.

Ultimately, the most important thing is your self confidence. Remember that you belong wherever you feel you belong; what other people may think is absolutely secondary. You have an absolute right to identify as you wish, and you have every right to pee wherever you feel is best, whether or not you “pass” within the narrow standards of a gendered bathroom. Be confident in yourself and your right to be where you are, and other people will, in most cases, pick up on this and let you do your business in peace.

When Someone Raises a Stink

You’ve done your homework, your friend has gone into the bathroom with you, and you’re comfortable with where you’re peeing, but someone else isn’t, and they’ve raised a ruckus about you being in the “wrong” bathroom. What now?

Remain calm, and be open to dialogue. Don’t get angry; instead, explain that you’re just here to use the bathroom, just like everyone else. Gentle humor and non-threatening body language go a long way in helping defuse potentially negative situations. Focus on turning this into a positive experience and using this opportunity to gain a new ally.
If the situation becomes uncomfortable for you, ask to speak to management. Present your case in a reasonable manner, and be confident in yourself and your rights. If you have friends present, enlist their aid as character witnesses.
Know your rights, and don’t be afraid to stand up for them. As more cities and states pass laws including non-discrimination laws around gender identity, it becomes safer to pee in your bathroom of choice. If you’re not certain what protections exist in your area, contact the folks with the Transgender Law Center’s Safe Bathroom Access Campaign to see what resources are available.
Let other people know about your experience – leaving feedback with Safe2Pee, Sit or Squat, or other bathroom focused projects will give others fair warning. Consider also leaving feedback with sites like Yelp or CitySearch, where your input will be heard by a larger audience. Your voice does make a difference, and by being vocal about your experiences you can help facilitate positive change.

Everybody Poops

It is not your duty to singlehandedly educate every person you come across about the need for non-gendered bathrooms. However, it doesn’t hurt to have a few facts up your sleeve for when someone well-meaning person inevitably says something along the lines of “Well, it’s fine for transgendered people who have had all their surgeries to use the gendered bathrooms, but I’m not comfortable with pre/non-op transgender people doing so.”

Asking the person where people should do their business is a good way of opening the dialogue. Remind them that everyone has times when they absolutely have to use the facilities, and that unisex bathroom options are often few and far between. If you’re comfortable doing so, relating personal experiences and challenges around bathroom accessibility helps bring immediacy to the subject. Know your local laws, and share the concerns and protections these create. Talk with them about the concerns about safety and what a perfect world might look like, and you may find that you have gained an ally.

If you’re interested in advocating for bathroom safety on a larger level, check out the Transgender Law Center’s resources for safe bathroom campaigns. If you’re a student, your school’s GSA group would be an excellent place to start educating. LGBT community centers, trans support groups and liberal political groups may already be working toward the same goal – don’t be afraid to start the conversation. In speaking about our unmentionables, we create space for the need to be identified – the need for safe bathrooms for everybody – and foster the creation of a solution.

Taking Care of Business

Ultimately, where you do your business is just that: your business. No one else should ever have the right to dictate where you go to the bathroom, and you should never have to balance your safety and dignity against using the facilities. We live in a world where you may meet with abuse or violence just for choosing to relieve yourself; to minimize your risk, listen to your gut, know your rights, and, most of all, believe in yourself. Your self-confidence lets other people know that you have every right to be exactly where you’re at, doing the same thing everyone else is doing: taking care of business.

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This article was originally written for and posted on TransEnough.com.

Breaking Down Boxes – Recycling by any other name…

Gender No Responses »

Nov 252009

Boxes/labels/words – things which separate us, highlight our differences, create barriers.

One or the other: yes or no; male or female; straight or gay; kinky or vanilla; monogamous or slut – the black and white dichotomies go on and on and on, a fact which I find both amusing and scary as I muddle through this life in the middle. I am neither male nor female, gay nor straight, and while I am a kinky polyamorous pervert (especially as defined against the arbitrary “social norm” of heterosexual monogamous vanilla sexually repressed culture), that is a qualifier that is circumscribed about with more honesty, communication, and guidelines than ever I experienced while identifying with the cisgendered straight majority. I often spend more time talking about sex than having it: preferences, boundaries, what-ifs, safer sex, fantasies, desires… expanding the foreplay into the living room, the coffeeshop, the ride on public transportation as we talk ourselves into quivering puddles of anticipation.

Male or female – a choice of politics, presumption, space, experience. I am a trans person who uses masculine pronouns as shorthand to describe my preference, my history, my person, but whether you’d call me sir or ma’am when walking down the street depends entirely on where you’re looking. The slight stubbly shadow under my chin may give you pause to call me sir if you read me as male, but glancing down and not seeing the tell-tale bulge of boyparts may cause you to hastily revise your opinion and awkwardly apologize for calling me the “wrong” gender. I’ve been on hormones long enough to make going into a public bathroom dicey – in “women’s” space, I might be considered a sexual predator, and in “men’s”, a failure of a woman trying unsuccessfully to catch a glimpse of dick and be like the boys. The relief I feel when seeing the occasional single stall unisex bathroom verges on comical and enters the realm of tragically satirical as I fear and scheme on where to pee in peace. Women’s or men’s – an arbitrary delineation which is rigorously imposed by society where deviance from the norms is often vehemently punished, as the numbers of transgender people dead in the past year from violence show.

Absolute answers make me uncomfortable, as do too few options; they bespeak cursory attention to a subject and a “well enough” attitude for questions which are not, in any sense of the word, quantitative. Even when one strives to quantify something like sexuality within a structure like the Kinsey scale, there are more than two options (straight and non-straight). There is a full spectrum of options available – as there is in the space in which we live our lives. If one is being generous, they might acknowledge a third option (bisexual), but in our society that falls under the not-straight (and therefore subversive, deviant and possibly given to unholy debauchery and lecherous appetites). There is no room to discuss the straight-identified man who gets blowjobs from other men, or the pansexual who is aroused by a dominant stance, or the furry, the queer, or anyone who has spent some time thinking about their sexuality and how it transgresses and transcends the mores of silence and guilt into which we are indoctrinated from our earliest memory.

Boxes/labels/words – our differences, our preferences, our desires – the space in which we are all unique – is a space smothered by silence, by ‘non-offensive’ language, by ‘age appropriate’ restrictions, by guilt, fear and intolerance. At best, when someone who is not-straight, not-cisgendered, not-monogamous, not-vanilla comes out as any of these to a primarily “normal” audience, the very best they can hope for is tolerance. Tolerance: the condescending disregard that some people “just can’t help themselves” for being different. Tolerance is a backhanded way of saying you don’t accept a person but that you’ll put up with their deviance so long as they keep it away from civilized company. Tolerating people who are different doesn’t get us any closer to breaking down our barriers and creating community; it merely reinforces our differences while allowing us to indulge in self-congratulatory approbations as to how big-minded we are by allowing those less than us to eat the scraps off our table.

Only when we move from tolerance to acceptance, where we recognize our differences and similarities and celebrate both, will we build community. Only when we break down the boxes of fear, guilt and silence which oppress us all will we be truly free of stigmatized hatred and prejudice. Only then will we be free to live as we are, each of us, without fear.

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