Category — Gender

I am pleased to introduce our guest contributor, elzie.  Please welcome her and submit any questions regarding Trans issues that you would like her to answer.

This is a wonderful question and like all questions about labels, it can have various answers all depending on the individual and the circumstances. I personally am not a big fan of labels, since they tend to pigeon hole people into a group without a care for their individualism. On the other hand, labels help get conversation started and that is always a good thing.  So here goes my take on the definitions.

As our society grows and matures, so do our definitions.  Transsexual (also can be spelled transexual) is the medical term for a person who has changed their physical gender to their desired target gender. So in my case, I changed my gender from male to a female (MtF). This is also true of a female to male (FtM) as well. A transsexual lives fulltime in their new gender and usually has had some sort of reassignment surgery changing their physical appearance and/or hormone replacement.  In the strictest sense, a transsexual is a person who has had surgery to change their physical appearance to match their target gender and live fulltime as this gender.  Some transsexuals move into society and live solely as their target gender and identify as only male or only female.

Now, transgender is a more general term and has been widely accepted as politically correct; only really because transsexual has had such a negative stigma associated with it from the 70’s (and beyond).  Maybe this is why I tend to call myself a transgendered woman, or for short a transwoman. Though transgender can refer to any person that dabbles in the binary male/female roles opposite to their birth gender.  This is the more common definition of transgender and the umbrella it covers.

I’m going to put both transvestite and cross-dresser together for simplicity. Transvestites and cross-dressers are typically heterosexual males who wear traditionally feminine clothing. Transvestite has been labeled in the past to associate cross-dressing with sexual arousal, but that term has changed to transvestic fetishism.

Cross-dressers don’t associate with the LGBTQ community and don’t see themselves as anything but straight/heterosexual.  Drag queens and drag kings are not usually labeled as cross-dressers/transvestites. Why? Good question, actually.  People that dress in drag tend to be gay and cross-dressers tend to be straight.

As with all labels, nothing is black and white and there is plenty of gray area.  One person might identify as transgender but not as transsexual; another as cross-dresser and not transvestite.  There are also people who don’t identify as any gender.  They are genderqueer and don’t feel part of the society norm of binary gender (male or female) and the stereotypes associated with each gender.  I like to think of genderqueer as “gender free”; free of all gender labels and gender stereotypes, including clothes, roles and any society gender conformity.

I hope I helped answer the challenging definitions of labels.  As always, keep those questions coming!

Thanks for the question, Carl.  Before I start, this is a good time for me to remind everyone that I’m not an expert, per se.  I am a lesbian, but I don’t have a degree in gender studies, and I’m not a doctor of psychology.  What I have to say comes from my own experience, or the experience of friends, when noted.

Let’s take a minute and flip the script.  Is there a difference, for you, between being married to a woman or a flamingly effeminate man?  Even someone who dresses in women’s clothes?  Someone with long hair and a soft body?

The plumbing is pretty important to me, and I’d wager it’s pretty important to you.  What we’re talking about here, though, more than sexuality, is gender norms.

I’ve said for a long time that it’s not the sleeping with people of the same sex that gets the gays into trouble, it’s the messing with gender norms.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked, “which one of you is the boy?”

For me, the answer has always been, “neither,” but the fact that I keep getting the question shows that there’s an expectation that a relationship will have a male-acting partner, and a female-acting partner.  Even if both partners are the same sex.

Let’s break down your question:

I’ve known and worked with a few [butch dykes], and I view them as another man.

Do you really?  Or do you view them as capable workers, equal to doing the same job a man would.  Do you work in a field that is traditionally dominated by male workers?  Women in those types of jobs, whether gay or straight often act in a manner similar to their male equivalents, either out of physical necessity, or out of social necessity.  Women doing construction work will develop the same muscles as men, and it wouldn’t make sense for a female construction worker to show up to a job site in a skirt.  Even long hair can be a safety concern.  Equally, it’s a heck of a lot easier for her to relate as “one of the guys” than to be seen as the wife or girlfriend or secretary, or anything secondary to her male counterparts.

Even in law school, women were generally and directly instructed to emulate men when interviewing for jobs, inasmuch as we should lower the pitch of our voices – but not too much – to appear stronger, more masculine.  (The lesbians, however, were instructed to become a bit more feminine.)

But, when it comes to the lesbians that love them….what’s the difference between a very masculine woman and a slightly effeminate man? Other than the obvious plumbing?

I think that you actually hit the nail on the head.  The obvious plumbing is the difference.  It makes all the difference.

You see, I want to be with a woman, physically.  Even if that’s with a strap-on and a pair of motorcycle boots.  When it gets down to brass tacks, it’s the plumbing that matters in the sexual part of the homosexual relationship.  In the emotional part of the relationship, it matters, too.  But even if the gentle, tender emotional side of a woman is something I might be able to find in a man, it wouldn’t be enough for me.  I would still want to be with a woman.  And a woman who sees herself as a woman.

Gender expression can get a little sticky, because there are so many variations that can occur.  What does it mean, exactly to be a woman?  What does it mean to act like a woman?   Does it mean having long hair?  Wearing dresses?  Cooking and cleaning?  Having children?  Does it mean tending a garden, and liking to knit.  Does it mean having large breasts and a big collection of shoes?

Some women like wearing suits, and some like wearing skirts.  Some like ties and some like scarves.  We are as different as any group of people o this planet.  Some women identify as “butch” because they feel most comfortable in their skin when they’re wearing work boots.  That makes them no less a woman than those who prefer the term “femme” and a case of lipstick.  It doesn’t change their gender – just their gender expression.

For example, I have short hair.  Sometimes extremely so.  I also play softball, wear fairly androgynous clothing, love a good pair of motorcycle boots, and enjoy knitting as well as gardening and cooking.  Most of my friends would say that my expression tends to the butch side, though I think I’m darn close to the middle.  My head is turned far more often by girls with short hair and jeans hanging on athletic builds, than women in skirts and heels.   But that’s not the case for everyone.  We all have different tastes – for ourselves and for the women we’re attracted to.

I think there’s something generational going on, as well.  The butch/femme dynamic seems much more common in older generations – that is to say older than me.  For a long time, there have been no real visible role models for gay people.  Books and movies and popular culture have been devoid of our presence, except in specific, formulaic ways.  So we had to figure out what it meant to be in homosexual relationships outside of any real community.  It makes sense that we would emulate our parents, our grandparents, and everyone we saw portrayed around us.  It makes sense that it would be more accepted for two women to be together in a familiar-looking situation.   If most relationships consist of one male partner and one female partner, it’s not a far leap to say that there are two definitions of a lesbian:  one male-acting, one female-acting.

It’s clear, however, that things have changed from a binary definition of what it is to be a lesbian to a nearly completely open definition.

I had it easy, really.  Yes, I grew up in Idaho, which was not the hotbed of lesbian community that you might expect, but I still had people like Martina Navratilova, and Ellen, and a few other women to look to.  And gay-straight alliances started popping up when I was in college.  In a safe environment, I was able to explore what a lesbian relationship might look like for me.  And I quickly discovered that it wasn’t a butch/femme dynamic that interested me most.  My definition was softer, more fluid, as were the definitions of many of the women around me.

And now, the youngest generation of queer kids not only explores what it is to be gay or lesbian, they also explore what it is to identify as a man or woman, or as both or neither.  Each day.

Again, this is my experience.  The butch/femme dynamic is so cliché, and such a part of the psyche of the lesbian community that some people have careers based on it.  It’s a handy shorthand, and a punchline, but in the end, a woman gets to define herself in whatever way she likes.  And no matter what she wears or how she acts, the expression of her gender makes her no less a woman.  At least, in my eyes.

The questions surrounding gender identity and gender expression are fascinating, and ever-shifting.  I am by no means an expert on the subject, but it’s something I consider on a regular basis.  Usually when I get called “sir.”

I’m going to take the question as it’s presented.  There are other issues that come up when we’re looking for a partner – a mate.  Gender identification and roles can prove helpful for some of us in those situations.

So, should we define our friends in terms of gender?  I think it depends.

I define myself as a woman.  It’s an important part of my experience and the story line that is my life.  But whether I have a penis or breasts or both isn’t the essence of who I am.  It does, however serve as a short-hand, signaling to other women that, without a word, we have a shared language.  A shared set of experiences.  We both probably know what it’s like to buy tampons, for example.  In a world where resonance, community and commonality are important, I think there is value in using gender as a way to acknowledge similarities.  That said, using any one factor as a singular definition of a person is dangerous.  And limiting.

I’ve played softball with a number of trans folks, both those transitioning from male to female and from female to male.  There have been times when I haven’t been sure how someone identifies.  So I ask.  I’ve found it incredibly humbling for me, and empowering for them, to ask the simple question, “what pronoun do you prefer?”  (I didn’t come up with that on my own.  I learned the question at a training somewhere.)  Just asking puts me in a vulnerable place, where I show my desire to define.  But it also shows my respect in allowing the other person to define for themselves how they will be seen in the world.

So, I think the answer is that self-identification is incredibly important.

If someone wants to identify themselves as a man, a woman, neither or both, the best I can do is to allow room for that, acknowledge it, and accept the story-line they express for their life’s experience, whether that’s their gender, sexual orientation, race, culture, religion, or reality TV affiliation.

Thanks Nat!  Any question is an okay question to ask.

Language can be a big roadblock to even beginning discussion about these issues.  And, because definitional terms like “gay” and “lesbian” can be so very personal, this is a perfect way to start the discussion.  Let’s take a minute to define some terms:

GLBT:  This stands for Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual and Transgender.  It can also be expressed LGBT.

Homosexual:  someone who is sexually attracted to people of the same gender.

Gay man:  homosexual man.

Lesbian:  homosexual woman.

Bi-sexual: someone who is sexually attracted to both men and women.

Transgender person: generally someone who identifies as a different gender than the gender assigned to them at birth.

It’s important to know that, while there are some terms that have specific definitions, the language around GLBT issues is constantly changing and evolving.  Especially the language around transgender and gender-identity issues.

For me, “gay” is a general term.  Sure, it can be used in a more male centered manner, but I use it often to describe all homosexual people.  Much the way it’s used in the term “gay marriage.”  We know gay marriage also includes lesbians, and it’s an easy shorthand.

I will say, however, that I was schooled one evening by a room of older activists who had cut their teeth in the women’s rights movement, when I referred to them as “gay.”  They didn’t like it.  It wasn’t comfortable for them, and wasn’t the term they chose to use to define themselves.    Which was funny, because I didn’t like the word “lesbian” for a long time.  It made me feel uncomfortable.  Even though it was a proper term for what I was, I didn’t use it to describe myself.  And that’s really what it’s about.  Self-definition.

For now, I prefer the word, “queer” to define myself and my community.  Which makes a lot of people uncomfortable.  For me, it’s the most inclusive word we can use to describe a very diverse community.  And it reclaims a word that has been used for a long time as a marginalizer.

So while there are some words that mean really specific things, the best rule is to ask.  If you want to know how someone defines themselves, just ask.  It’s a great place to start a conversation.