Transgender activism, continued
by Dorie Clark
Upcoming
In an effort to increase communication and understanding between the sexes,
It's Time, Massachusetts (a state branch of It's Time, America) plans an
FTM-MTF summit this fall. Call (508) 259-9210 or e-mail
penn45@ma.ultranet.com.
|
This burgeoning activism has focused on a number of issues. Hate crimes are a
top priority. The National Gay and Lesbian Task Force Policy Institute reported
in its new manual, Transgender Equality: A Handbook for Activists and
Policymakers, that 60 percent of transgendered people have experienced
hate-related violence. Workplace discrimination is also a concern. Currently,
the state of Minnesota and about two dozen cities (including Cambridge) offer
protection on the basis of gender identity, but this pales in comparison to the
200-plus cities that protect gays and lesbians in the workplace, and the
additional thousands that don't offer any protection at all to gay, lesbian,
bisexual, and transgender (GLBT) people. Another focus is access to health
care. Very little hard research has been done, but Daviko Marcel of Boston's
Transgender Education Network, a health advocacy group, says that both suicide
and HIV are major problems. "There is no legal protection for someone at their
job if they are transgender-identified," he says. "There is no health-care
coverage for someone who is transsexual; you can discriminate in housing
against someone who is transgendered. If you can't find a job or a place to
live. . . . That's why many MTF transsexuals engage in what they
call `survival sex work,' because they have families to feed."
|
|
NANCY NANGERONI:
"[The transgender movement] has a great potential to
change how people view difference, not just gender difference."
|
Though there's still a long way to go, the trans movement has had notable
success, considering that it really entered the political arena only five years
ago. Gender PAC, which executive director Riki Wilchins says should be
described as a "gender rights" organization, orchestrated a recent lobby day
that netted 57 congressional pledges not to discriminate on the basis of gender
identity. "When all the faxes roll in, we expect to have 70 or 75," Wilchins
says.
Much of this rapid progress is due to the trans movement's affiliation with the
gay community, which is now politically connected. Indeed, over the past five
years, it's become de rigueur for gay groups to identify themselves as GLBT.
Sometimes this is a heartfelt symbol of inclusion, and a recognition that the
movements were linked from the beginning because a number of transgendered
folks fought at Stonewall. Other times, it's merely a way to silence
politically correct types who seem to insist on including anybody and
everybody. This makes for an uneasy alliance. Stacey Montgomery, a
transgendered lesbian who led the much-publicized Stop Dr. Laura protests in
Boston, says of the relationship between the two communities: "We're not
friends. That's very misleading. We're family. Friends, you want to hang out
with; family, you can't get rid of. We're like brothers and sisters in the back
seat of the car."
One of the most infamous gay-trans showdowns was the mid-1990s donnybrook over
whether the words "gender identity" should be added to the federal Employment
Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA), which would ban workplace discrimination on the
basis of sexual orientation. The Human Rights Campaign, the nation's largest
gay political group, refused to support the added language. HRC has
subsequently reached out to the trans community, helping Gender PAC with its
recent efforts. But mistrust lingers among other trans activists (and ENDA,
which still doesn't have a "gender identity" clause, has yet to pass either the
House or the Senate). The tension recently surfaced in the pages of the
Advocate, the gay newsmagazine of record, where columnist Norah Vincent
made waves by calling transsexuals "the most draconian arm of the PC language
police" and assailing them for "multilat[ing] their bodies in order to make
them conform to the fashionable version of the opposite sex and gender."
Double standard
In the past month, we've seen two headline-grabbing crimes allegedly committed
by transgendered individuals. The first involved a woman being shot at
point-blank range by her estranged husband, and the second a 12-year-old boy
who was sexually assaulted by a stranger after being talked into getting into
that stranger's car. Although the fact that these crimes were committed by
transgendered individuals was of little relevance, that detail was played up in
the media coverage. The press went wild over the news that the alleged murderer
in the first case was a cross-dresser. And reports in both the Boston
Globe and the Boston Herald about the second case were careful to
note that the defendant was a transgendered woman, or, as the Herald put
it, a "transgender person who dresses as a woman."
"When I read any sort of article about perpetrators of violence, I'm always a
bit concerned when the person's gender identity or sexual orientation are
identified. They should be seen as separate from the crime they commit," says
Dave Shannon, coordinator of the violence recovery program at the Fenway
Community Health Center.
"What was the need to describe [the man who murdered his wife] as `the
cross-dressing Dr. Sharpe'? He is the alleged killer of his wife -- do we need
to know this?" Shannon asks. "Make no mistake, I think anyone who commits a
violent crime needs to be held accountable for it, regardless of their sexual
orientation or gender identity, but we don't necessarily need to know that
orientation or identity."
The news hook for disclosing Sharpe's gender identity lay, ironically, in
Sharpe's intense desire to keep that information secret. The doctor's wife had
apparently threatened to publicize her husband's habits, and this was seen as a
possible motive for the murder. News reports about the case, however, all note
that Sharpe had a history of being violent with his wife. What if Sharpe had
committed adultery and his wife had threatened to publicize his affairs --
would the Herald, for example, have found this information sexy enough
to announce it in a two-inch, front-page headline?
With the second case, a spokesman for Suffolk District Attorney Ralph Martin
says the transgendered identity of the perpetrator was an important detail.
"It's likely the victim would not have gotten into the car with a man. When
it's a woman asking for help . . . it's a different story," says Jim
Borghesani.
The judge in the case, however, didn't see it that way. In a strongly worded
finding of fact written after she postponed a ruling in the case, Superior
Court Judge Maria Lopez wrote that in publicizing the defendant's pending plea
-- with a press release that noted the defendant's gender identity -- Martin's
office "attempted to harass and ridicule a defendant suffering from a
psychological disorder." Lopez further stated that the DA's office had tried to
"turn court proceedings into a circus."
The media's apparent fascination with the gender identity of the perpetrators
in each of these cases provides a stark contrast with the attention typically
paid to crimes committed against transgendered individuals. Take the June
murder of Amanda Milan, a transgender woman who was out with friends in New
York when a couple of men began harassing them -- one called Milan a "faggot."
When Milan challenged one of the men to a fight, he backed down. But then
another man handed the first one a knife, and he then jumped Milan and slashed
her throat. There were aspects to the crime that made it unusual enough to
warrant significant coverage: it was a random killing; drugs weren't involved;
the victim was out with friends when she was harassed by street thugs; and,
yes, the victim was a transgendered woman. Perhaps it was the last detail that
influenced editors at the New York Times to relegate the item to a news
brief describing the victim as man "dressed in women's clothing."
It was only after transgender activists publicly protested the failure of
police to investigate the killing as a hate crime that both the New York
Times and Village Voice ran longer stories on the incident. But they
didn't focus on the issue of violence toward transgendered people; instead,
they focused on police investigative shortcomings.
The media's obsession with portraying transgender individuals as freaks can
even be seen in stories about more benign issues. Take the local media's
juvenile coverage of the MBTA's decision to build a new bathroom at a Green
Line maintenance station to accommodate the needs of an employee currently
transitioning from male to female. A Herald headline blared: TRANSSEXUAL
TOILET COSTS T $8G -- in the days following the story, talk show hosts and
columnists flogged the issue repeatedly with, well, bathroom humor.
"It's rare when the transgender person is the perpetrator of violence," says
transgender activist Stacey Montgomery. "Transgender people of all kinds are
primarily the victims."
When the media gets it backward, an entire community is maligned.
|
For better or for worse, the existence of transgendered people raises difficult
questions about what it means to be gay. Gay men and lesbians have for years
defended themselves against charges that what they really want is to belong to
the opposite sex. But the trans community's growing visibility highlights the
uncomfortable fact that many transsexuals are former lesbians who have become
men, or former gay men who have become women. Even more complicated, it's not
uncommon for people's sexual orientations to change after sex reassignment.
"Radical lesbian feminists all of a sudden become tranny fag-boy bottoms,"
notes one observer. "It's a remarkable thing."
Some worry that this fluidity of sexual preference will come back to haunt the
gay community. Two years ago, a nationwide ad campaign touting "ex-gay
ministries" stirred up the debate over whether homosexuality is chosen (and
therefore capable of being un-chosen, as the religious right argues it should
be) or innate and unchangeable. Many gays argued for the latter view -- that
gay men and lesbians should be accepted because they are born gay, just as
people are born black or born with blue eyes. This is an argument that makes
sense to Middle America, but it's also oversimplified and flawed. The
transgender experience forces us to confront these flaws, much the way Anne
Heche did when she said that she turned gay when she met Ellen DeGeneres. And
some fear that if mainstream America isn't ready to handle a more complex and
accurate explanation of how people come to be gay and why gay men and lesbians
deserve rights, the movement might lose the gains it's already made.
But others are simply excited by the trans movement's potential to shake things
up. Newfound Hollywood glamour and the mystique of the "gender outlaw" have
fueled "transgender trendiness" at a number of colleges and in the gay
communities of large urban areas. Aija Simpson, a member of Smith College's
Transgender Committee, says that at her school, "it's considered cool to have
seen Boys Don't Cry and to talk about it knowledgeably." Says Thomas
Lewis, a Boston-area volunteer for the GLBT-education group SpeakOut: "FTMs are
sort of the flavor of the month."
And movies like Boys Don't Cry and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen
of the Desert are also bringing "gender queers" into the living rooms of
mainstream America. Transgender activism "seems to be moving into an
adolescence where the movement has won a certain degree of respectability,"
says Nancy Nangeroni. "Most activist organizations are now welcoming and
affirming of trans people," she adds. This recent acceptance has empowered many
transgendered people to come out.
We're not going to assimilate to society," predicts Stacey Montgomery. "Society
will assimilate to us. . . . Whether it's being intersexed or
transgressive in terms of how one dresses, I think society is going to be more
culturally relaxed." If that happens, activists believe it will make life
better for everyone -- and it will be because of today's transgender community,
which is pushing the gender envelope. "Increasingly," says Penni Ashe Matz,
"we're seeing transgender people who are less interested in blending in and
becoming invisible. I would have to put myself in that
category. . . . I've personally developed a philosophy and I'm
seeing it in other transgender people -- I want to pass, but not too well."
With medical and surgical advances, transgendered people will have the
potential to blend in more seamlessly. As transgenderism becomes less
stigmatized, though, there may be less need to do so. The technology could even
lure curious thrill-seekers. Says Montgomery, "If in 100 years people are able
to get cheap sex changes and spend a week on the other side for $1000, who
will notice us at all?"
"I think the transgender movement calls for a paradigm shift in how we perceive
the value of human beings," says Jamison Green. "We're asking people to give up
their fear of other people's identities and beliefs." If it works, transgender
activism will be batting clean-up, finishing what the civil rights, women's,
and gay and lesbian movements started: the drive toward a truly equal,
accepting society.
But before this can happen, the trans community has to deal with its own
internal schisms. Those individuals who prefer to blend in with one gender or
the other are very different, politically and philosophically, from those who
want to shake up the gender duality. Some of the latter are even putting their
beliefs into practice, turning to "lo-ho" (low doses of hormones such as
estrogen and testosterone) to create deliberately androgynous bodies.
Similarly, there's a rift between those who prefer to remain closeted and those
who are open about their transgender identity. As Karen Kerin, the
congressional candidate from Vermont, notes: "Once most transsexual people go
through transition, they want to disappear back into society. They want to live
out their lives in what they perceive to be their proper [gender] role." In a
sense, a community of out transgendered people blows their cover.
Another point of contention is that, because of financial and psychological
pressures, many trans people do not have the energy to agitate politically.
Some of these people bristle at those who do. Montgomery reports, "I get older
trans people coming up to me and saying, `Stop the activism! The secret for
trans acceptance is invisibility.' "
Sexual orientation is also a sticking point, which is ironic because being gay
is generally considered more "socially acceptable" than being transgendered.
Some transgendered people identify as gay or lesbian, but as Green says, "there
are a lot of people in the trans community who are homophobic, who have never
had any experience with gay and lesbian people and don't want it."
Finally, despite transgendered people's common history of gender bending and
blending, their biggest challenge may be overcoming the age-old battle of the
sexes. "Right now, we're not united," admits one activist. "There's little
communication between MTFs and FTMs." In the transsexual community, FTMs are
sometimes envied for their ability to pass undetected. As Thomas Lewis puts it,
"testosterone is like a sledgehammer in the universe -- it's easier to add it
than take it out." But the price of blending in (and avoiding a share of the
harassment and hate crimes that might otherwise come their way) is that FTMs
have, until recently, been almost totally invisible to the public eye.
This may also be the result of what some FTMs call the residual air of "male
privilege" that MTFs carry with them when they become women. Transgendered men
often feel left out by transgendered women. "Most of us girls just don't know
how to include the guys," says Penni Ashe Matz. And when there are outreach
efforts, they may simply fall flat. As Green recalls, "One of the things that
upset me in the beginning when I was trying to build bridges was that MTFs
assumed they knew all about our lives [as FTMs]. They assumed we wanted to be
the kind of men they thought they should have been but couldn't. They'd tell us
how we should be as men, and it was very obnoxious, and it wasn't what we were
looking for."
Some, like Stacey Montgomery, are obsessively on guard as a result. "I'm very
sensitive to the old charge that trans women show up and take over the women's
movement," she says. "I'll go to ridiculous lengths to avoid it -- if I'm in
charge on a given day, is it because of my previous [gender] background? More
often that not, it's just because I'm unemployed and have time on my hands."
Clearly, even the trans community's unique perspective on gender can't solve
all the problems. Biology may not be destiny anymore, but rethinking old
patterns and relating across the gender divide is still as complex as ever. But
the trans movement is raising good questions, and offering simple advice that
takes us beyond the clichés of Mars and Venus: whether you're male or
female, FTM or MTF, or something in between, if you wear wingtips, try walking
a mile in someone else's high heels -- and vice versa.
Dorie Clark is the liaison to the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender
communities for Somerville mayor Dorothy Kelly Gay. She can be reached at
DorieClark@aol.com.