Julia Serano's Blog, page 14

Julia update December, 2013 - Excluded excerpts, reviews, Portland & Seattle book readings, more!

So this morning I sent out my monthly(ish) email update, it has info about my Portland & Seattle book readings this week, links to interviews, reviews, excerpts from my new book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive, a World AIDS Day reading I am in, and more!

You can check out the update here:
http://us7.campaign-archive1.com/?u=0e307e411e4a79a0f76d48dd6&id=aeee86439c

If you want future julia updates emailed directly to you, you can sign up for my email list here:
http://eepurl.com/CxWWf

enjoy! -j.

Why Myriad Double Standards?

This is one in a series of blog posts in which I discuss some of the concepts and terminology that I forward in my writings, including my new book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive . 
So in an earlier post, I discussed the concept of myriad double standards that I forward in Excluded. The idea is quite simple: Generally within feminism and queer activism, we have a fixed idea of the system that we are challenging—e.g., the patriarchy, heteronormativity, the gender binary, kyriarchy, and so on. Being fixed models, each of these acknowledges certain forms of sexism and marginalization while overlooking or dismissing others. The forms of sexism and marginalization that are ignored tend to become points of exclusion—for instance, if your concept of “patriarchy” does not include transphobia/cissexism, then your movement will exclude trans people; if your concept of “the gender binary” does not include biphobia/monosexism, then your movement will exclude bisexuals. And so on.
In contrast to these fixed models, in Excluded, I argue that there are myriad double standards . As Carl Sagan might have said, “billions and billions” of double standards. We may be aware of some of these double standards, yet unaware of countless others. Acknowledging this should compel us to forward new strategies that help challenge *all* double standards, rather than merely those that we are already familiar with or concerned by. And I discuss some of these strategies in the second half of Excluded as part of what I call a “holistic approach to feminism.”
Since the book has come out, I have fielded a few recurring questions about this concept that I will address here:
Why “double standards”?

Years ago, when I was trying to find a broad definition for sexism—one that would include traditional sexism, heterosexism, cissexism, monosexism, and others—I ultimately settled on the following definition: “sexism may refer to any double standard based on a person’s sex, gender, or sexuality.” More broadly, double standards may include assumptions, expectations, norms, stereotypes, meanings, value judgments, etc., that we apply to one group of people but not another.
Not only does “double standard” encapsulate many aspects of marginalization, but I also found the idea to be useful in my day-to-day activism. For instance, if some random person who has just found out that I am trans starts asking me invasive questions about my genitals (which too often happens), I could say, “what you just said is cissexist!” But if they are unfamiliar with that activist terminology, they will likely get defensive and/or accuse me of making up words. However, I find that if I address the incident by pointing out the double standard at play (i.e., that they wouldn’t dare ask someone who isn’t trans about their genitals), they usually immediately see the problem (unless, of course, they are a complete asshole).*
People tend to understand double standards on a deep, fundamental level. Even young children will point out how it’s not fair that they are treated in some way that another child is not. Thus, framing sexism and marginalization in terms of double standards has the potential of resonating with many people outside of activist circles.
For the record, I am highly aware of how framing sexism and marginalization solely in terms of double standards can be incomplete. As I say in Chapter 15, “Myriad Double Standards”:
...there is more to an ideology than just double standards. Each ism also has its own history and mythology, means by which it is transmitted and people indoctrinated into it (e.g., language, stories, schools, traditions), ways in which it is institutionalized (e.g., through laws, medicine, government bureaucracy), and so on. By focusing primarily on double standards here, I am not in anyway denying or dismissing these latter aspects of isms—they are important and need to be addressed in our analyses and activism. But I do think that breaking down an ism and examining its constituent double standards can bring to light aspects of how different forms of marginalization function and interact that typically remain obscure—that is what I am trying to do here. [p.210]
Specifically, I think that framing the matter in terms of double standards can make it easier to see the many parallels that exist between different forms of sexism and marginalization, and how they effectively undermine and invalidate the marginalized group(s) in question. I attempt to illustrate this in Chapter 14, “How Double Standards Work,” as well as other chapters in the book.
What about “reverse sexism”?

A common concern that people raise is that conceptualizing sexism in terms of double standards seems to legitimize complaints about “reverse” forms of sexism—for instance, when men feel that they experience sexism because they can be subjected to a military draft, false accusations of rape, or that they have far less options regarding clothing choice than women have.
Admittedly, these are all double standards, but they do not happen in a vacuum. In fact, they are all the “flip-sides” of sexist double standards that primarily undermine women: The assumptions that women are inherently weak, passive, dependent, and require protection are what drive the belief that women are unfit to serve in the military; the assumptions that women are sexual objects and the denial of women’s bodily autonomy leads to rape culture, a by-product of which is that men are seen as potential sexual predators; and as I discuss at great length in Whipping Girl, it is the assumption that femininity is artificial, frivolous, and less legitimate than masculinity that allows women the leeway to wear items of masculine clothing (because such articles are seen as practical), whereas men who wear feminine clothing are undermined by the inferior meanings associated with femininity.
In other words, men who complain about “reverse sexism” point to very real double standards, but they completely fail to address how these (and countless other) sexist double standards impact women. Indeed, this type of “me me me!” activism (where people are only concerned with challenging the double standards they face, but not those faced by others) is entirely incompatible with the holistic approach of challenging myriad double standards that I forward in the book.
Along similar lines, I have been asked about whether affirmative action, or the idea that people with privilege should step aside to make room for those who do not have such privilege, count as double standards that should be eliminated. Obviously, these actions are intended to be correctives to make up for huge disadvantages faced by marginalized groups. As with the “reverse sexism” examples above, anyone who singles these out these practices as double standards that must be challenged is clearly not genuine in their desire to eliminate all double standards.
Are all double standards of equal concern?

Related to the previous examples, some people have suggested that challenging myriad double standards seems to create a false equivalency between double standards. They may make the case that traditional sexism and racism have longer histories and are far more entrenched in society than biphobia/monosexism, transphobia/cissexism, or asexophobia, and thus should take precedent. Or they may argue that double standards that exist in straight mainstream society (e.g., heterosexism) are more damaging than double standards that are more specific to queer subcultures (e.g., subversivism).
For the record, I do not believe that all double standards are equal in their severity—as I admit throughout the book, some are more prevalent, institutionalized, and strictly enforced than others. But all double standards are unfair and can potentially lead to marginalization and exclusion, and for that reason, we should challenge all of them. The notion that we should rank double standards according to importance and only focus on the most damaging ones seems to be rooted in a zero-sum mentality—the underlying presumption is that we only have so much time or energy or bandwidth to devote to challenging sexism and marginalization, so we should only concentrate on the most pressing issues. (And of course, every marginalized group will no doubt view the double standards they face as being the most “pressing issues.”)

I entirely reject this zero-sum hypothesis. I reject the notion that challenging monosexism, cissexism, or asexophobia somehow “distracts” us from also challenging racism or traditional sexism, or that challenging masculine-centrism and subversivism within queer communities somehow “takes away” from our efforts to challenge heterosexism in straight mainstream society. To the contrary, if we take a broader approach that challenges *all* double standards (rather than focusing narrowly one or a few particular isms), we can potentially undermine all forms of sexism and marginalization simultaneously. This does not necessarily require any additional time, energy, or bandwidth, but it does require us to adopt a new perspective (i.e., a holistic approach), which I forward in the second half of Excluded.
*note: I am not suggesting that we should refrain from discussing cissexism (or any other ism) simply because some people are unfamiliar with the concept. I am merely pointing out that sometimes it is a more productive and pragmatic strategy to address people at their level of understanding. I find that once people come to acknowledge that a particular double standard exists, they become exponentially more open to learning and using activist terminology to describe it. 

What is gender artifactualism?

This is the one in a series of blog posts in which I discuss some of the concepts and terminology that I forward in my writings,
including my new book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive .




So in Excluded, I
introduce the term “gender artifactualism” to describe, “the tendency to conceptualize and depict
gender as being primarily or entirely a cultural artifact.”[p.117] Gender
artifactualist viewpoints are pervasive within feminist and queer activism, and
within the academic fields of Women’s/Gender Studies, Queer Theory, Sociology, certain
subfields of Psychology, and in the Humanities more generally.




Why is this term needed?




I created the
term to make a distinction between the idea that gender is “socially
constructed” versus the idea that gender is “just a construct”—both of which
are common refrains within the aforementioned academic and activist settings,
but which imply very different things. As I put it in Excluded:




To have a social constructionist view of
gender (by most standard definitions) simply means that one believes that
gender does not arise in a direct and unadulterated manner from biology, but
rather is shaped to some extent by culture—e.g., by socialization, gender
norms, and the gender-related ideology, language and labels that constrain and
influence our understanding of the matter. By this definition, I am most
certainly a social constructionist. Gender artifactualists, on the other hand,
are typically not content to merely discuss the ways in which gender may be
socially constructed, but rather they discount or purposefully ignore the
possibility that biology and biological variation also play a role in
constraining and shaping our genders. Sometimes, even the most nuanced and
carefully qualified suggestions that biology may have some
influence on gendered behaviors or desires will garner accusations of
“essentialism” in gender artifactualist circles... [p.117-8]




Is gender artifactualism correct as a
theory?




Absolutely not. In
Chapter 13, “Homogenizing Versus Holistic Views of Gender and Sexuality,”
I thoroughly detail why gender artifactualism (along with its sparring partner
in the nature-versus-nurture debate, gender
determinism, which presumes that gender-related behaviors arise solely via
biology) is flat-out incorrect as a theory to explain why gender differences exist.
Instead, I forward a holistic perspective that acknowledges that shared
biology, biological variation, shared culture, and individual experience all
come together in an unfathomably complex manner to create both the trends as
well as the diversity in gender and sexuality that we see all around us. This
holistic perspective is completely compatible with the idea that gender is
socially constructed (i.e., shaped by socialization and culture), but
incompatible with the idea that gender is merely a social artifact (or in
activist parlance, “just a construct”).




Why bother debunking
gender artifactualism?




The prevalence
of gender artifactualist thinking within feminism and queer activism has led to
two major fallacies that have undermined these movements. The first is the idea
that gender artifactualist positions are inherently liberating, progressive,
and anti-sexist in contrast to gender determinism (which is why artifactualist
views are so often touted in these settings). However, as I point out in Excluded:




The truth of the matter is that gender artifactualism
can be used to promote sexist beliefs just as readily as gender determinism
can. For much of the twentieth century, Sigmund Freud’s hardline gender
artifactualist theories were used to pathologize queer people and to portray
girls and women as inferior to their male counterparts. Similarly, contemporary
feminists and queer activists are outraged by stories of intersex children
being subjected to nonconsensual genital surgeries, or gender-non-conforming
children being subjected to rigid behavior modification regimes, yet the
justification for these procedures is founded in the gender artifactualist
theories of psychologists like John Money and Kenneth Zucker, respectively. [p.145-146]




Indeed, I go on
to make the case that both gender
artifactualism and determinism have an “exception problem,” in that they focus
on explaining typical genders and sexualities (e.g., the preponderance of heterosexual,
gender-conforming people), yet “...fail to provide a reasonable explanation for
why so many of us gravitate toward various sorts of exceptional genders and
sexualities.”[p.147] As a result, both approaches can provide a rationale for
pathologizing gender and sexual minorities on the basis that we represent
“mistakes” or “developmental errors” of some kind.




The second
fallacy of gender artifactualist thinking goes something like this: If our gender
and sexual identities and behaviors arise solely as a result of culture, and
given that our culture is hierarchical and sexist, then we (feminists, queer
activists, people more generally) must simply unlearn these oppressive ways of
being that we were indoctrinated into, and instead “do” or “perform” our
genders in more liberating, subversive, and righteous ways. While this line of
reasoning might sound promising on the surface, in reality, it is often used to
condemn and police other people’s genders and sexualities: 




After all, if gender and sexuality are entirely
social artifacts, and we have no intrinsic desires or individual differences,
this implies that every person can (and should) change their gender and sexual
behaviors at the drop of a hat in order to accommodate their own (or perhaps
other people’s) politics. This assumption denies human diversity and, as I have
shown, often leads to the further marginalization of minority and marked
groups. [p.134]






































































Granted, not all
gender artifactualists buy into this idea that we can readily change our genders
and sexualities in order to better conform to some political view or another.
But those who do will typically cite gender artifactualist mantras (e.g., “all gender is performance,” “gender is just a construct”)
in order to make their case. In Excluded,
I borrow Anne Koedt’s phrase ‘perversion of “the personal is the political” argument’ to discuss how this premise has been used repeatedly to police gender and
sexual expression within various strands of feminism over the years. In
contrast, the holistic approach that I forward accommodates gender and sexual
diversity both within our movements, as well as in the world more generally.

Why new words?

Over the next several months, I will be writing a series of
blog posts that explain some of the less familiar terms that I either coined
and/or otherwise forwarded in my writings, especially in Whipping Girl  and my new book Excluded: Making Feministand Queer Movements More Inclusive . 
















I am doing this for several reasons:




1) I want these definitions to be accessible via the Internet.
Many people have never heard of Excluded
or Whipping Girl, or they may not
have access to these books. So if they just so happen to read or hear another
person use any of these terms, I would like them to be easily google-able. For
this reason, the title of each post will take the form of “What is [the term in
question]?” so that our search engine overlords can more readily find the
answer.




2) Relatedly, someone who is writing an Internet article or
blog post who uses any of these terms can simply link to these pages, thus
circumventing having to provide a definition or introduction to the term(s)
themselves.




3) Sometimes other people come to use a term/concept in a manner
different than I initially used it. Or they may question why I bothered to
create or forward the term/concept in the first place. So these posts will
allow me to add some context regarding my original intentions and why I thought
the term/concept was necessary in the first place.




Often discussions about coining or forwarding new
terminology veer into (what I call) the “Why new words?” debate. For instance,
some people may protest by saying something like, “I don’t understand why we
need these newfangled words, can’t we just get by with the words we already
have?” Such arguments seem oblivious to the fact that every single word in the English language was once a new word! New
words and phrases are created all the time, and they tend to stick when they
fill a niche that had been previously vacant.




We communicate through words, through language. And as we
learn more about the world, and as our world changes, we constantly invent new
terminology to express and explain what we see. Concepts from the banal to the
highly technical garner their own labels: reality TV, romantic comedy, fan
fiction, product placement, junk mail, social media, selfies, telecommuting, buzzword,
trickle-down economics, debt ceiling, SuperPAC, climate change, carbon footprint, and good cholesterol (to name a very very
tiny handful). None of these terms existed fifty years ago, but they are all
useful today as quick shorthand to convey a more complex concept or phenomenon
to other people.




So when people selectively say “I don’t understand why we
need new words” whenever I (or others) forward new language to describe how
sexism works or to convey LGBTQIA+ perspectives, it really does feel like they are
singling out activist terminology. The unspoken message is: “I am totally fine
with new words provided that they do not challenge my beliefs about gender and
sexuality, or challenge the hierarchies and double standards that I
unconsciously harbor.”




A second variation of the “Why new words?” debate that I
sometimes hear is the complaint that new terminology merely results in the
proliferation of jargon that nobody understands. The word “jargon” is
invariably used as a pejorative here, the connotation being that I (and others)
are purposefully using esoteric language in order to alienate other people.
That is not what I am doing at all. Unlike other people who write about gender
and sexism (for instance, those who write primarily for academic audiences), I
always try to make my books as accessible as possible, and I always try to
thoroughly explain potentially unfamiliar terms and concepts whenever I
introduce them. Both Whipping Girl
and Excluded begin with a chapter wherein
I define much of the terminology that I use throughout the book. Indeed, if I
wanted to alienate people by using needlessly fancy language, then I wouldn’t
have bothered writing this series in the first place!




What some people call “jargon,” other people call necessary
language. Physicists inevitably create “jargon” to describe how subatomic
particles behave; doctors create “jargon” to distinguish between different
diseases and injuries to the body; sports professionals create “jargon” to
describe different plays or to determine how well players are performing; musicians
create “jargon” to describe different musical keys, time signatures, and cord progressions.
Along similar lines, those of us who are involved in feminism and
queer/LGBTQIA+ activism, by necessity, create “jargon” to describe the phenomena
that we observe, and to analyze and challenge various forms of sexism and
marginalization.




As a writer who is participating in dialogue with other feminists
and queer activists, it is necessary that I use some of this language. The
alternative approach—purposefully not using such language—would result in me
being unable to adequately broach certain important topics. Given this, I try
my best to strike a balance between engaging in these more complex and nuanced
discussions about gender and sexism, while simultaneously opening the door for
people who are not already familiar with such terms/concepts to be introduced
to these fundamental ideas.




So anyway, that is the rationale for this series—stay tuned
for future posts!




One final note: I will not be writing up a separate post for
cis terminology (e.g., cisgender, cissexual, cissexism, cis privilege) as I already wrote an article to that effect back in 2009.

julia update - Excluded BOOK TOUR starts now, plus excerpts, reviews & interviews

note: this is my monthly email update for October, 2013 - to get these updates emailed directly to you, you can sign up for my email list here.



julia update october 2013



in this update:

1) Julia's Excluded book reading tour is afoot!

2) Excluded-related reviews and interviews

3) recent essays



1) hey Boston, Philadelphia, New York City, Chicago, Cincinnati, Toronto, Portland, and Seattle - come out and see me on my book tour!



So as most of you probably know by now, my new book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive is out! You can find out more about the book by clicking the link. The book can be purchased from your local independent book store. Or it can be ordered online at independent book stores such as Women and Children First, Giovanni's Room, and Powell's Books, as well as bigger online sellers such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble.



I've done a couple of book readings here in the San Francisco Bay Area already, but later today I fly out to the East coast to begin my book tour. I've done a couple of book readings here in the San Francisco Bay Area already, but later today I fly out to the East coast to begin my book tour. I have a Facebook event page for the book tour - feel free to invite your friends!



Here is where you can see me:



Thursday, October 17, 2013 -- Calamus Bookstore, (92 S St # B, Boston, MA 02111) at 7pm.



Friday, October 18, 2013 -- Giovanni’s Room, (345 South 12th Street (at Pine), Philadelphia, PA 19107) at 5:30pm.



Monday, October 21, 2013 -- Bluestockings, (172 Allen St., New York City, NY 10002) at 7pm.



Thursday, November 7, 2013 -- Women and Children First Books, (5233 N. Clark St. Chicago, IL 60640) at 7:30pm.



Friday, November 8, 2013 -- book signing (not a reading) at the Seal Press booth at the National Women’s Studies Association conference, (Cincinnati, OH) at 4pm.



Friday, November 8, 2013 -- Joseph-Beth Booksellers in Cincinnati, (2692 Madison Rd, Cincinnati, OH 45208) at 7pm.



Sunday, November 10th -- Glad Day Bookshop, (598A Yonge Street, Toronto, Canada) at 7pm.



Tuesday, December 3, 2013 -- Powell’s City of Books, (1005 W. Burnside St., Portland, OR) at 7:30pm.



Wednesday, December 4, 2013 -- Elliott Bay Book Company, (1521 Tenth Avenue, Seattle WA, 98122) at 7pm.



Other book readings may materialize - if they do, I will announce them in future updates. Also, I often do a number of college appearances every year. So if you are affiliated with some kind of college organization or department, then consider bringing me out to your campus! For more details, check out my booking webpage. . .



2) Excluded-related excerpts, reviews and interviews!



The book has been garnering some press lately - here is a round up of what's out there so far:



The book was reviewed by Publisher's Weekly, and previewed by The Advocate and SheWired.



Excerpts from the book have recently been published in The Advocate, Velvetpark, and Women’s eNews.



Interviews with me about the book have appeared in The Atlantic, The Hooded Utilitarian, and PQ Monthly.



I will continue to compile links to future reviews and articles related to the book on my personal website's Excluded webpage.



3) recent essays



Somehow, amidst all this book promotion, I've managed to write a few new essays that appear on my blog!



One of them, Myriad Double Standards, is directly related to the new book - it is the first in a series of posts I plan to do over the next few months to highlight some of the main ideas that I discuss in Excluded.



The other two new pieces, Considering Trans and Queer Appropriation and In Defense of Partners, tackle complex issues that I feel tend to get oversimplified or overlooked in trans and queer communities. . .



That's it for now. And remember, between updates, you can always check out:



my main website



my blog



my Twitter feed



my Facebook page

In Defense of Partners

This last weekend, I finally
got around to reading Janet Mock’s recent essay How Society Shames Men DatingTrans Women & How This Affects Our Lives (note: there is also an excellent interview that includes her and Laverne Cox on HuffPost Live discussing the same issue).
Mock wrote the piece in response to the media coverage and public backlash
against DJ Mister Cee (a cisgender male hip-hop artist and radio personality) for
his attempt to solicit sex from someone who he thought was a trans woman.
Mock’s piece rightfully points out how the public’s shaming of men who are
attracted to trans women—e.g., by insulting their manhood, or presuming that they
are closeted gay men—undermines our identities too, as the underlying
assumption is that we must be “fake women” or “really men.”




Mock’s essay is very timely,
as it shines light onto what I feel has become a huge gaping hole in trans
activism. Namely, while we have made some progress in challenging mainstream
attitudes toward trans people, we have barely made a dent in the public’s
attitudes toward, and assumptions about, people who choose to partner with us.




For instance, over the last ten
years there has been a noticeable decline in jokes directly targeting transgender-spectrum
people in the media, especially in shows that have more liberal/progressive
audiences (e.g., programs like The Daily Show and The Colbert Report). Yet
these same programs continue to regularly make jokes that insinuate that we are
undesirable and that there must be something wrong with (and therefore
hilarious about) people who are attracted to us.




Why does this discrepancy
exist? Well, here is a pragmatic explanation: These days, when shows poke fun
at trans people directly, the trans community will strongly protest. Petitions
will go up on the Internet, GLAAD and other organizations will start sending
out press releases. Suddenly the show in question will have a big PR mess on
their hands. So while many cisgender comedy writers may still consider us to be
laughing stocks, they won’t risk making those jokes if they know that there is
going to be a big blowback.




However, when they ridicule
people who are attracted to us, typically nothing happens. A few people may
grumble about the incident on Facebook or Twitter, but the community at large does
not push back. Why not? Well, the sad truth is that we (the trans community) are
often just as suspicious of cisgender people who choose to partner with us as
the cis majority is. And while the mainstream regularly belittles people who
find us attractive, unfortunately trans people often do the same too.




Admittedly, we do it
slightly differently. The cisgender majority will shame Mister Cee and men like
him by questioning their manhood and sexual orientation. In my own trans
community, people routinely dismiss such men by labeling them as “chasers”
and “fetishists.”




While there are legitimate
critiques to be made of way in which some (albeit not all) cisgender men who
“admire” trans women express their attractions (e.g., by exoticizing us,
viewing us as mere sexual objects, not fully respecting our female identities, not
treating us as human beings), I believe that the wholesale stereotyping of them
and using psychiatric language to pathologize them only worsens the problem—not
just for them, but for us as well. Once again, the underlying premise that
drives these accusations is that there must be something wrong with them because,
after all, they are attracted to us.




This suspicion extends *far
beyond* those men who watch trans porn, solicit trans sex workers, or secretly occasion
trans pickup bars. Cisgender women and men who are in loving committed
relationships with their trans partners are also regularly dismissed as being “chasers”
and “fetishists.” If they want to avoid these accusations, then they have to defend
themselves via a convoluted (contradictory even!) set of claims:




“I am attracted to my trans partner,
but not *because* they are trans, but
also not *in spite of* the fact that
they are trans. Because, after all, I believe that trans people and trans
bodies are attractive and deserving of love. But by saying that, I am not
trying to imply that I am specifically attracted to my partner’s more trans-specific
traits, but at the same time, I am not grossed out by them either. Honestly, I
view my partner’s body the exact same way that I view cisgender bodies. Oh God,
I hope that last comment doesn’t come off as too cisnormative...”




Of course, this I-accidentally-fell-in-love-with-a-trans-person-and-I’m-totally-OK-with-it-in-a-completely-non-creepy-way
spiel only works if you’ve only ever dated one trans person. If your dating
history includes more than one trans partner, then good luck shaking off that “fetish”/“chaser”
label.




Way back in the past, I used
to assume that people who were attracted to trans people had some kind of a
“fetish.” But then a trans friend challenged me on this. She asked me why we
call men who are attracted to trans women (the vast majority of whom also are
attracted to women more generally) “fetishists,” yet men who limit their dating
pool to *just* non-trans women somehow manage to avoid the “fetish” label?
Isn’t the latter group more restrictive and particular in their desires? Aren’t
they the ones who really have a “fetish?” Her question stumped me. I thought
about it for days, but I couldn’t come up with a reasonable rebuttal.




Years later, it became
perfectly clear to me what she was getting at. I was doing research to debunk
the concept of autogynephilia (a psychological theory that undermines trans women’s identities). In the course of that work, I read paper after paper
by Ray Blanchard, the psychologist who coined the term. If you don’t know who Ray Blanchard is, here is a quick yet distressing introduction to the guy.
Anyway, what we lay folks call “fetishes,” pathologizing psychologists like
Blanchard call “paraphilias.” For the latest DSM manual (DSM-V; the
so-called “psychiatric Bible”), Blanchard was put in charge of defining the
term, so unfortunately, here is how “paraphilia” is now described by the
most authoritative of psychiatric texts:




“Any intense and persistent sexual interest other
than sexual interest in genital stimulation or preparatory fondling with
phenotypically normal, consenting human partners between the ages of physical
maturity and physical decline.”




I am 100% behind the idea
that consent is crucial and that adults having sex with children is wrong. But
everything else about this definition is completely fucked up! Basically, if your sexual interests or desires drift in any way outside of what *other people* perceive as normal, then congratulations, you now have a paraphilia. Welcome to the fetish concept.




By the way, the term
“phenotypically normal” means “normal” with regards to observable anatomical or
behavioral traits. And as you can probably guess by now, Blanchard does not view
trans people as "phenotypically normal." In fact, he coined the term “gynandromorphophilia” to
describe attraction to trans women. He considers it to be a paraphilia. In lay terminology,
gynandromorphophilia is the “fetish” that Mister Cee, my girlfriend, everyone
I’ve dated post-transition, and all of my trans woman friends’ partners,
supposedly have in common.




Attraction is a messy and
complicated matter. I have researched it extensively, and I can tell you that absolutely
nobody knows why people turn out to be heterosexual, homosexual,
bisexual/pansexual, or asexual. Nobody understands why some people prefer certain
body or personality types or traits over others, while other people have
different (sometimes extremely different) predilections.





I have no idea why some
people are attracted to trans people. And let me be clear: When I say
“attracted to trans people,” I am not talking about that extraordinarily rare
person (who I doubt even exists) who is *only* attracted to trans people, but
not at all to cis people. Rather, I am talking about a heterogeneous population
of people who are attracted to many cisnormative and non-gender-related human traits,
but who also (additionally!) happen to be attracted to some human traits that
are considered to be gender-non-conforming or non-cisnormative. Sure, some of these traits maybe bodily traits (these being the ones that garner the most attention and consternation in discussions about so-called “fetishes”). But such gender-non-conforming or non-cisnormative traits may also be behavioral traits (e.g., related to gender expression) or personality traits. Indeed, I have had partners tell me that they find trans women attractive because, in their experience, we tend to be especially self-assured, interesting, and critical of societal norms. The point is that being attracted to trans people can take on many forms and can vary significantly from person to person.




So to restate: I have
no idea why some people are attracted to certain gender-non-conforming/non-cisnormative
human traits (and who therefore find trans folks particularly attractive). But
I do know why most people *are not* attracted to such traits: because trans
people and bodies are highly stigmatized throughout society. This stigmatization
inflicts shame on those of us who are trans—a shame that many of us work hard
to overcome. (For the record, I am still overcoming it.)




But this shame also affects
people who find us attractive—not in the same way, nor to the same extent, but
it does affect them. Rather than seeing their attraction toward us as “normal”
and “healthy,” society teaches them to view it as a “fetish.” This shame
encourages them to keep their attraction secret—this applies to both cis people
who self-identify as “admirers,” “fetishists,” or “chasers” and purposefully
seek out trans partners, as well as to those cis people who are surprised to
find out that the person they are attracted to, or dating, or have fallen in
love with, is trans and who subsequently hides that info (and sometimes even their
partner’s existence) from friends and family.





If we want to move past all
this shame, then we need to embrace the fact that trans people are worthy of
desire, and that some cis people (as well as some trans people) will find us attractive.
To accomplish this, we need to destroy the psycho-pathologizing myth that
so-called “fetishists” and “chasers” exist. And we need to create space for cis
partners of trans people to *respectfully* discuss their desires and to
articulate (in concert with trans people) how the fetish concept demeans both
them and us. I am not suggesting that we should bend over backwards to include
cis people who invalidate our gender identities or view us only as sexual objects. But we should amplify the
voices of cis partners who are willing to challenge cissexism and who truly appreciate
us as living breathing people.




Last June at Girl Talk (a spoken word show intended to be a dialogue between trans queer women, cis queer
women, and genderqueer people), I performed a piece called “Desirable.” It thoroughly
debunks the fetish concept (more so than I have done here) and also challenges
the silencing of cis partners of trans people more generally. I received a lot
of positive feedback for the piece—to be honest, more so than for any spoken
word piece that I have written since 2007 (when I first wrote/performed PerformancePiece).
But I heard after the fact that some trans women who went to the show did not
like it. I suppose this isn’t surprising given how taboo the subject matter is.





The video of my performance
has just been made available, and I offer a link to it below. But before I
share it, I want to pre-emptively address a few misconceptions that I have
heard from other people about the piece:




1) One person told me that
they thought that I was making fun of people who hate the word “tranny.” I do
no such thing. The jumping off point for the piece is a show I curated way back
in 2004 that was billed as “The Tranny Lover’s Show” (it was a spoken word event featuring partners of trans people). As I make clear in the
piece, while this use of the word "tranny" might sound problematic or offensive to many people today
in 2013, back then (in that very different era, within the confines of the San
Francisco Bay Area trans/queer community) the word was routinely used in a
reclaimed way. I no longer use the word on a regular basis these days precisely
because many trans people today (in this very different era) find it offensive.





2) The same person also told
me that they thought that I mocked the concept of cultural appropriation in the
piece. Again, I do no such thing. I do point out how the concept of
appropriation can be (mis)used to police people’s genders and identities, and how overzealous usage of the concept often results in trans
people using it to silence our partners. Appropriation is an extremely
intricate subject, and I admit that the super-brief mentioning of it here does
not do it justice. So recently, I have written a more thorough essay on appropriation—please refer to that for my actual views on that subject.




3) I heard that some people
thought that I was mocking the concept of cis privilege in the piece, which
struck me as bizarre given that I have written so extensively about the subject
(see Whipping Girl pages 159-193 and
this follow up essay).
In watching the video, it seems that this misconception may have arisen because
I use my hand to signify quotes around the phrase “have cis privilege.” To be
clear, I meant to indicate that “have cis privilege” is something that trans
people actually say to dismiss cis partner perspectives; I was not putting the
concept of cis privilege in “scare quotes.”




Anyway, here is my reading
of the piece Desirable. I don’t expect everyone to agree with everything
that I say in the piece. But I do hope that people will view it with an open
mind and consider the benefits of moving away from the fetish concept, and
toward a world in which trans people can be seen as legitimate objects of
desire.




P.S., Here are a few other related
pieces that I have written on this topic:




“Love Rant” is a chapter in Whipping Girl pages 277-281




The Beauty In Us was a
speech I gave at the SF Trans March in 2009




Why feminists should be concerned with the impending revision of the DSM discusses Blanchard’s
expansion of the definition of “paraphilia”




Psychology, Sexualizationand Trans-Invalidations [PDF] doesn’t address the fetish concept directly, but it
does show how related psychological theories sexualize and invalidate trans
people

Considering Trans and Queer Appropriation

Within the activist circles I run in, I routinely hear
people accuse others of appropriation,
or claim that certain behaviors or endeavors are appropriative. I myself have written about how certain people
(e.g., cisgender academics and media producers) sometimes appropriate transgender
identities and experiences (discussed more below). So I am certainly
sympathetic to the concept.






At the same time, however, I have seen the concept of
appropriation used (or misused) in order to undermine marginalized groups as
well. For instance, cisgender feminists have long accused trans women of “appropriating female dress” or “appropriating women’s identities”—indeed, if you click
the link you will see that this was part of the justification for why Sylvia
Rivera was kicked off the stage at a 1973 Pride rally in New York City. On
Cathy Brennan’s anti-trans-dyke website “Pretendbians” (which I refuse to link
to), the byline at the top of the webpage says: “We don't hate you, we hate
appropriation”—the implication being that trans women cannot ever be actual
lesbians, but rather we can only appropriate lesbian identities and culture.




Recently, on several occasions, I have heard trans people claim
that cisgender people who perform drag, or who crossdress as part of a
Halloween costume, appropriate trans people’s identities and culture. Such
statements surprised me, in part, because they are so eerily similar to the
aforementioned accusations of appropriation that trans-exclusive radical
feminists have levied against us. But what struck me even more was how such
claims represent a complete about face from the direction that transgender
activism had been taking during the ’90s and early ’00s. During that era, we tended
to celebrate binary-shattering activities. Trans activists didn’t merely discuss
our own gender-non-conformity, but we emphasized the fact that most of us
(whether trans or not) transgress gender norms at some points in our lives. Indeed,
trans activists often encouraged forms of gender transgression in the cisgender
majority, as it was generally believed that such expressions would help undermine
binary gender norms throughout society.




And suddenly now in 2013, some trans people are essentially taking
the exact opposite approach by discouraging cisgender people from transgressing
gender norms (via accusations that such actions represent an appropriation of
transgender identities and culture).




In the wake of all these claims, I have done a lot of
thinking about appropriation over the last year. And I have come to the
conclusion that the issue is way more complicated than the cut-and-dried “appropriation-is-always-bad”
perspective that seems to predominate in activist settings. While we should be concerned
about appropriation (especially certain manifestations of it), we should also be
cognizant of some of the negative ramifications that can arise from the indiscriminate
or overzealous use of the concept. In this essay, I will share some of my
thoughts on this matter.




For the record, my main focus here will be accusations of
appropriation with regards to gender and sexuality, and what they mean for transgender
and queer (e.g., LGBTQIA+) communities and activism. Some of what I say may
have import for thinking about other instances of cultural appropriation (e.g.,
with regards to ethnicity, class, religion, nationality, etc.). However, LGBTQIA+
identities and cultures are unique in a number of ways (which I will address
toward the end of the piece), and this may limit the usefulness of applying
what I say here to other such instances of appropriation.




What is
“appropriation,” and why (or perhaps when) is it bad?




In the most general sense, appropriation occurs when we take
something that somebody else has created and use it for our own purposes. For
example, I can appropriate a certain chord progression others have previously
used in order to create a new song. Or I could appropriate another person’s
theory and apply it to a new problem. If I like your fashion-sense, I may
appropriate your style. Humans beings are highly social animals: We are
imitators, and we learn language, fashion, traditions, expressions, and ideas
from one another. As the saying goes, there is nothing new under the sun. Almost
everything we create has its origins elsewhere—we are constantly adopting, adapting,
and repurposing other people’s past creations and reconstructing them in novel
ways. So appropriation—in the most general sense—is an everyday part of human
life.




Within social justice movements, we typically use the word “appropriation”
in a more specific sense: to describe instances where a dominant and/or majority
group takes up some tangible or intangible aspect of a marginalized and/or minority
community. Sometimes it is the marginalized/minority group’s identity that gets
appropriated—for instance, members of the dominant/majority group may claim
that identity for themselves, or create their own depictions of members of that
group (which typically resemble the dominant/majority group’s assumptions and
stereotypes rather than the marginalized/minority group’s lived realities). Other
times, it is the minority group’s culture (e.g., their language, art, beliefs,
religions, traditions, rituals, and fashions) that gets appropriated. Often
cited examples include when Western countries appropriate art and artifacts
from nations they have colonized, or appropriate their spiritual practices and
traditions (as seen with the popularity of Yoga and Buddhism here in the U.S.).
Or in how white America has historically appropriated musical styles that had
their origins in African-American communities (e.g., jazz, rock-n-roll,
hip-hop). And so on.




So if appropriation (in the most general sense) is a basic
human tendency, why is it considered to be bad when dominant/majority groups
appropriate from marginalized/minority groups? I would argue that there are at
least three non-mutually-exclusive reasons why this is so:




Erasure: Marginalized/minority groups have little power or
voice in society. Therefore, when the dominant/majority group takes up their
identities, ideas, and other cultural creations, it tends to undermine or erase
the context in which they were created, and the original meanings and symbolism
that underlie them. In other words, the dominant/majority typically takes up
the marginalized/minority group’s creations while disregarding their
perspective. Sometimes the fact that the appropriated items had their origins
within the marginalized/minority group (rather than the dominant/majority) gets
overlooked or forgotten.




Exploitation: Sometimes members of the dominant/majority group will
materially profit from aspects or acts that they have appropriated from a
marginalized/minority group without ever giving anything back to that community.
This tends to further exacerbate economic disparities that may already exist
between the two groups.




Denigration: This can refer to a couple different things.
Denigration can mean “to treat or represent as lacking in value or importance;
belittle,” which applies to instances where important or sacred aspects of the
marginalized/minority group’s identity or culture are appropriated by the
dominant/majority group in an irreverent or disrespectful manner. Denigration
can also mean “to speak damagingly of; criticize in a derogatory manner; sully;
defame: to denigrate someone's character,” which applies to instances where the
dominant/majority group appropriates some aspect of the marginalized/minority
group’s identity or culture in order to purposefully ridicule, parody, or insult
members of that group.[1]




As I mentioned earlier, in my past writings (specifically in
Whipping Girl ), I have critiqued the
way in which cisgender media producers and academic researchers have
appropriated trans people in their art and theories, for instance, when they
hold us up as examples of gender ambiguity or liminality.[2] Such instances are
problematic because:



They erase the marginalized group’s voice and perspective (as trans people are depicted as merely symbols or metaphors, while our real-life circumstances and issues as a marginalized population are completely ignored). 
They exploit the marginalized group (as many a cisgender media producers have made lots of money capitalizing on the exoticness of gender variant lives, and some cisgender gender theorist have garnered success and built their careers upon interpreting trans people’s bodies and identities, without giving anything back to the trans community). 
They denigrate the marginalized group (in that cisgender media producers and academic researchers often outright dismiss or discount trans people’s self-accounts, fail to take trans people’s struggles seriously, and sometimes even blatantly ridicule or demean trans people in the process).




I believe that these three phenomena—erasure, exploitation,
and denigration (or “EED” for short)—encapsulate most, if not all, of what typically
concerns activists when they critique instances of appropriation.




Once we recognize EED, it becomes clear why
dominant/majority groups’ appropriation of marginalized/minority identities and
cultures can be a bad thing, but not vice versa. After all, marginalized/minority
groups have relatively little power or voice in society, and thus are not in a
position to erase or exploit the identity and culture of the dominant/majority
group. And while marginalized/minority groups may choose to denigrate the dominant/majority
group, it will only have a limited effect, as the dominant/majority group is
already taken for granted, respected, and viewed as the norm throughout
society.




Non-EED appropriation




Thus far, I have argued that appropriation is a bad thing
when it leads to erasure, exploitation, and/or denigration of the
marginalized/minority group. And most activists (including myself) would agree
that instances of EED appropriation should be challenged and critiqued. However,
there are other occurrences where appropriation (in the most general sense)
occurs, but it does not necessarily erase, exploit, or denigrate the
marginalized/minority group—I will refer to these instances as non-EED appropriation.  




Here are a few examples of non-EED appropriation of trans
people:



A cisgender academic could carry out a research project that focuses on issues and obstacles that trans people are most concerned about. This project could be done in a way that respects trans people’s perspectives and opinions, and portrays us in a realistic manner (rather than relying on stereotypes or reducing us to metaphors). The final product (e.g., an article or book) could be described as appropriative in that it uses trans people’s realities, ideas, perspectives, and experiences, despite the fact that it amplifies trans voices and has the potential to create positive change for trans communities.
There have been several instances in which cisgender students have attended school crossdressed in order to show support for a transgender classmate. Such acts could be described as appropriative, yet they are done out of respect and in support of trans people. Much like students who shave their heads in support of a student who is going through chemotherapy, such acts can help de-stigmatize and lend legitimacy toward the marginalized/minority group in question.
Over the years, I have met a number of cisgender people who appreciate transgender perspectives and culture. For instance, they might have learned a lot from trans authors, and they may recommend those books to others. They might enjoy performances by transgender spectrum artists or patronize transgender film festivals. They do this out of genuine respect, and their actions do help to promote trans voices and to put money into the hands of trans performers and writers. Yet the person in question could be described as appropriating trans culture in a non-EED sense.
Cisgender people who are partners of trans people sometimes start their own support or discussion groups. While such groups may focus a lot on partner-specific issues, they will also discuss how to be supportive of the trans people in their lives and how to challenge societal cissexism. Such groups may have a net-positive effect on trans communities, by directly supporting relationships in which trans people are involved, and by demystifying and de-stigmatizing trans sexualities and relationships. Despite these benefits, some trans people may claim that the group members appropriate trans identities (by positioning themselves as “trans partners”) and/or appropriate the oppression trans people face by discussing how it impacts their own lives.




· 

Now it is quite likely that these four examples have evoked
a range of feelings among trans people who read this. Some may have positive
feelings about the cisgender people in question—they may be described as allies
or advocates, and their actions (while arguably appropriative in the most
general sense) may be welcomed with open arms. Other trans activists might have
a negative view of said people, dismissing them as “tourists” who are
privileged in ways that trans people are not, and who are reaping the benefits of
a marginalized/minority population while not having to endure the harsh
realities of actually being trans themselves. (Indeed, I have heard these
latter critiques made with increasing frequency lately.)




In other words, while most activists would agree that EED
appropriation is a bad thing, there is significant disagreement about whether
non-EED appropriation is bad, neutral, or good. In thinking through these
differences of opinion, it seems to me that whether a marginalized/minority
group member has a positive or negative view of non-EED appropriation hinges on
two interrelated axes: stigma-versus-acceptance, and integration-versus-separatism.





Stigma versus
acceptance




The more highly stigmatized a group is, the less likely it
is that the dominant/majority group will even attempt to appropriate aspects of
their identity or culture, as doing so will only lead to them becoming tainted
by said stigma. However, if the marginalized/minority group becomes more
accepted over time, there will be less of a social price to pay for associating
oneself with that group. Thus, as acceptance of the group increases, so do the
chances that others will engage in non-EED appropriation.




From the marginalized/minority group’s perspective, non-EED
appropriation is often welcomed when the group is highly stigmatized, as the
group appreciates any genuine outsider interest and support they can get. But
as the group becomes more established and accepted in society, such
appropriation starts to feel more like an invasion, as more and more
dominant/majority members seemingly want to associate with their identity and take
part in their culture.




When I was a young adult (e.g., in the ’80s and ’90s), there
was a ton of stigma associated with being trans—way more than there is today.
Because of that stigma, very few cis people would have dared to go to a
transgender event or taken part in a trans-related demonstration, as the
cisgender majority would likely have viewed them as suspect as a result. The
rare cis people who were willing to associate with trans people back then were
often viewed in a positive light and welcomed into the community. For instance,
the first transgender spectrum support/social group that I belonged to had the
phrase “and friends” tacked onto the end of the title, and partners, family,
and friends were regularly welcome to attend meetings.[3] Even in the early
’00s, when I was active in the San Francisco Bay Area’s trans community, there
was a sense that cis partners and close friends of trans folks were a part of our
community too, and they would often take the stage at trans events. I’m sure
today that some people would dismiss this as “cis people using their privilege
in order to take up space at trans events,” but that would overlook the very
different reality of that time. Back then, very few people supported trans
people, and those that genuinely did were embraced as part of our community.




Things are very different now. There is still quite a lot of
cissexism out there, but in certain segments in our culture (e.g., especially
in queer, feminist, and social justice circles) there is an acknowledgement
that trans people are legitimate, and that cisgender people should be good
allies to gender variant folks. In such settings, being aware of transgender politics
and culture may be seen as a sign that a person is a good progressive or
activist. Indeed, this may lead to an increase in what might be called “faux
allies”—people who are not especially concerned with trans people and issues,
nor personally invested in trans communities, yet who nevertheless regard
themselves as allies of trans people because to do otherwise would potentially
garner disdain from other progressives or activists.




Furthermore, the fact that we currently exist in an era
where there is a mix of both societal cissexism and trans acceptance—and where
the former is viewed as conservative and close-minded, and the latter viewed as
progressive and open-minded—means that an awareness of trans culture and politics
can allow a person to be seen by others as worldly, cutting edge, or “hip.” Thus,
just as hipster straight folks began to appropriate aspects of gay and lesbian
identity and culture during the ’90s and ’00s, more and more cisgender people
are now appropriating aspects of trans identities and culture.




It would be relatively easy for someone like myself, who
lives in a very progressive part of the country, to pan the influx of cisgender
people who suddenly seem interested in trans people and culture. While it may
potentially be annoying, it is also a sign of our increasing legitimacy in the
eyes of society. And frankly, having lived through the past, I would much
rather be in our current situation than where we were several decades ago (or where
other trans folks in more conservative parts of the country remain today) where
trans people are viewed as pariahs, and nobody wants anything to do with us,
appropriation or otherwise.




Integration versus
separatism




Activists who have a positive or neutral view of non-EED
appropriation often imagine the ultimate goal of their activism as being the complete
integration of their group within mainstream
society. By integration, I mean that the group’s identity, perspectives, and
culture are viewed as unique, but also as a legitimate part of the culture at
large.




One can see examples of integration in how certain groups
that have immigrated to the U.S. from other countries are now seen as both
distinct yet legitimately part of the culture. For example, I am of Italian (father’s
side) and Irish (mother’s side) heritage. A century ago, when my grandparents
and great-grandparents lived in the U.S., they were highly marginalized. The dominant/majority
(primarily Protestants of Northern European ancestry) blatantly discriminated
against them with regards to employment and housing, and used derogatory slang
terms to refer to them. They were routinely ridiculed for their religion
(Catholicism), and stereotyped as criminals, drunkards, lazy, etc. Some of my
older relatives have told me about how, when they were young, neighborhood parents
wouldn’t let their children play with them because of their ethnicity. Even
during my parent’s generation (in the ’50s), many in the dominant/majority wouldn’t
have approved of their children marrying someone of Irish or Italian descent.




Nowadays, Irish- and Italian-Americans are generally seen as
part of U.S. culture, and this integration is due to both U.S. culture rubbing
of on Irish- and Italian-Americans, as well as Irish- and Italian-Americans
influencing U.S. culture.[4] Americans of various persuasions eat at Pizza parlors
and drink at Irish pubs; we all watch Martin Scorsese films and celebrate St.
Patrick’s Day. While such activities are clearly examples of non-EED
appropriation, they are not viewed by most people (both within and outside of
Irish- and Italian-American communities) as “appropriation” in the negative
sense. Rather, they are viewed more as “cultural appreciation” than “cultural
appropriation.”[5]




One can also see this integration and growing cultural
appreciation in mainstream attitudes toward gays and lesbians, at least in some
sectors of the country. The first Gay Pride events in the ’70s were far more
like protests or demonstrations rather than celebrations, and the average
straight person wouldn’t dare set a foot anywhere near them. Nowadays, Queer
Pride parades are (for better or for worse) endorsed by mainstream
corporations, covered by the mainstream media, and many (if not most) of the
audience members are straight (not unlike the countless people of non-Irish
heritage who show up to New York’s annual St. Patrick’s Day parade). This non-EED
appropriation/cultural appreciation can also be seen in the rise in popularity of
gay-themed TV shows and movies, the embrace of gay artists and celebrities, and
so on.




As these examples illustrate, when marginalized/minority
groups are highly stigmatized (as Irish- and Italian-Americans were in the
early 1900’s, and as gay people were in the ’60s and ’70s), they tend to be
relegated to their own communities, and there is not much culture permeability between them and the dominant/majority group.
But as stigma lessens and integration begins to occur, the marginalized/minority
group and the dominant/majority groups inevitably become somewhat culturally permeable.
And non-EED appropriation plays a major role in this process, as both a contributing
factor to, and the net result of, that permeability.




Of course, not all members within a particular
marginalized/minority group will strive for integration, or welcome the
cultural permeability that comes with it. Some individuals may feel that their
unique identities, language, and traditions are being watered down or made
impure by mainstream non-EED appropriation. Such people may want to keep their
culture pure via taking a more separatist stance, such as discouraging or limiting
the dominant/majority group’s access to their culture. Such people are way more
likely to critique non-EED appropriation as “oppressive appropriation” rather
than “cultural appreciation,” and to view it as just as bad as (or as merely an
extension of) EED appropriation.




It should be noted that people who take on more separatist
stances typically look down upon members of their own group who strive for
integration, often dismissing them as being “assimilationists.” For example, separatist-oriented
queers who complain about straight mainstream folks who appropriate Queer Pride
and queer culture more generally are also likely to dismiss LGBTQIA+ people who
dress gender-normatively, or same-sex couples who seek out legal recognition of
their marriages, as being assimilationist. This usage of the word
“assimilationist” is meant to be pejorative, and synonymous with the words “sell
out” or “traitor.”




This conflating of integration with assimilation is rather
off the mark. After all, true assimilation would be to completely blend in with
straight culture—to be “closeted” or “stealth.” In contrast, someone who moves
through the world as an out queer person (regardless of how they dress), and
who is part of a visibly same-sex marriage, isn’t engaging in assimilation by
any means. Rather, they are part of an integration process.




So one might ask: What purpose do these accusations of
“assimilation” serve? It seems to me that they are meant to undermine members
of one’s own community who strive for integration, by insinuating that such
individuals are traitors, and thus illegitimate or inauthentic members of the
group. This sort of identity policing helps to maintain a level of cultural
impermeability between the marginalized/minority group and the
dominant/majority group. Indeed, understanding this allows one to recognize that
accusations of “assimilation” and non-EED “appropriation” are essentially flip
sides of the same coin: the latter maintains cultural impermeability by
delegitimizing members of the dominant/majority group who cross identity or community
boundaries, while the former delegitimizes members of the marginalized/minority
group who are perceived as doing the same.




Now, I could make some grandiose claim like, “Integration is
the righteous path, whereas separatism will ultimately lead to our doom” (or
vice versa), but I am not about to. In my book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive ,
I decry such one-size-fits-all approaches to activism. The truth is that both
approaches have some negative drawbacks. Separatism generally favors sameness
over difference, and in doing so, it leaves behind many members of the marginalized/minority
group in question. For instance, separatist-oriented queers who decry
assimilationists and instances straight people engaging in non-EED
appropriation seem to want to preserve some kind of idealistic notion of queer
culture that they have experienced, enjoyed, and/or felt empowered by in the
past. That version of queer culture probably resonated with them because they were accepted within that culture.
In contrast, while I am politically queer, I have never felt fully welcome in
queer communities and spaces, mostly because I am a transsexual woman, but also
because I am bisexual and femme—three identities that often lead me to be
dismissed as an inauthentic or illegitimate queer in those spaces.




Of course, I could turn around and create (or participate
in) femme, or bisexual, or trans woman separatist movements. But even if I did
feel welcome and empowered in such communities, there would inevitably be many other members of my marginalized/minority group who would feel excluded from them. 




While I tend to fall on the integrationist side of the
spectrum, I do understand why separatist tendencies exist. Some
marginalized/minority group members may feel irrevocably injured or violated by
the dominant/majority group, and as a result, they may not want to have
anything to do with them. As a result, they might view people (like myself) who
seem to blur strict distinctions between queer and straight (on the basis that
I am bisexual, femme, and/or trans), and who strive for integration rather than
separatism, as potentially threatening because we “undermine the movement.” (And
of course, whenever people refer to “the movement,” what they really mean is “their movement.”)




Furthermore, while I will never feel welcome or relevant in certain
queer spaces—such as the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival,
which explicitly excludes trans women from attending—I nevertheless recognize
that such separatist communities do develop their own unique culture, and that the
cultural permeability that comes with integration and non-EED appropriation
would inevitably change that culture. While I might view such an evolution in a
positive light, I understand that others would view it negatively, and perceive
any such changes as a loss of the original culture that they very much cherished.




So rather than frame integration and separatism in terms of
a good-versus-bad binary, I believe that it is more useful to recognize them as
two general tendencies that always seem to arise within marginalized/minority
groups. And while we (i.e., integrationists and separatists) might agree that
EED appropriation is a bad thing that should be challenged, we will invariably
view instances of non-EED appropriation very differently.




The case for cultural
permeability with regards to gender and sexuality




While disagreements about integration versus separatism exist
within most marginalized/minority groups, there are a few additional reasons
why those of us who are marginalized because of our genders and/or sexualities should
think twice before enforcing cultural impermeability via accusations of non-EED
appropriation.




The first has to do with what I refer to in Excluded as the insider/outsider myth. The myth assumes that some of us (for instance, members
of a particular LGBTQIA+ subgroup) are legitimate members of the group—that is,
“insiders”—who are allowed to freely participate in queer cultures, whereas
other people (e.g., the straight majority) are “outsiders” who can only
appropriate our identities and culture.




This sort of insider/outsider mentality may make some sense
in thinking about cultural appropriation based on nationality, ethnicity,
religion, etc., where some people are born into and socialized within that
culture, whereas others are not. Of course, even in such cases, there will
always be people who are of mixed nationality, ethnicity, religion, etc.—people
who Gloria Anzaldúa famously described as living in the borderlands
between two identities or cultures.




However, this insider/outsider framing completely falls
apart when considering the identities and cultures of gender and sexual
minorities. After all, almost all of us grow up in straight families and
communities. While we may have experienced ourselves as different from the
straight majority in some way as young children, we did not initially have LGBTQIA+
identities or culture to help us make sense of our lives. Rather, we tend to discover
these identities over time: We hear someone mention the identity, we seek out
books and websites to learn more about them, we try these identities on for
size ourselves, we connect with other people who we believe are “like us” in
that way, and so on. The first time we enter a particular LGBTQIA+ space (whether
it be a gay bar, a trans support group, or an asexual online discussion group)
we often feel like outsiders, and we experience a steep learning curve in
trying to understand the language and customs associated with the group.




In other words, we discover
LGBTQIA+ identities and cultures. And one could say that all gender and sexual
minorities are appropriators, as virtually all of us have adopted identities
and participate in cultures that others created before us, and which we were
not initially socialized into. Indeed, the only
people who are immersed in queer cultures from the start of their lives are
children of queer parents, and the majority of them turn out to be straight!




Permeability between straight and queer identities and
culture is essential for LGBTQIA+ self-actualization and empowerment.
Furthermore, when a straight person engages in a stereotypically queer
activity, it may be an act of appropriation, but it could also be experimenting
or questioning on their part. I have heard queer people accuse straight people
who make out with one another of “queer appropriation”—when I do, I often
reply, “Well how do you know that neither of them will come to identify as gay/lesbian
or bisexual someday?”[6] And even if the people in question do end up being
straight, isn’t the fact that nowadays people can engage in same-sex kissing without
being ostracized a sign that that heterosexist norm is eroding?




Along similar lines, don’t instances where cisgender people crossdress
or engage in other forms of non-EED gender-non-conformity help to deteriorate
binary gender norms? Shouldn’t we be celebrating such instances of permeability
between genders and sexualities rather than condemning them as appropriation?




And if we do decide to call out certain people’s genders and
sexualities as “appropriative,” then where exactly do we draw the line? And who
gets screwed as a result? Doesn’t the claim that heterosexuals-shouldn’t-appropriate-queer-culture
pretty much leave bisexual/pansexual folks especially vulnerable to accusations
of appropriation? And doesn’t the claim that men-shouldn’t-appropriate-women’s-oppression
leave trans women especially susceptible to similar criticism?




This leads us to another crucial point: Accusations of
appropriation are essentially claims about authenticity.[7] Specifically, they
create a binary wherein certain people (i.e., the marginalized/minority group)
are considered to be authentic when they engage in a particular activity,
whereas others (i.e., the dominant/majority group) cannot authentically engage
in that same act. Rather they can only appropriate it.




This specter of “inauthenticity” isn’t nearly so troubling
when it comes to other forms of cultural appropriation. For instance, the implication
that white folks/Westerners are “inauthentic” when they perform reggae or
practice Yoga is not meant to be an indictment of their natural abilities.
After all, nobody is born performing reggae or practicing Yoga—these are leaned
skills and traditions. Rather, the “authenticity” that is invoked simply refers
to whether one was socialized within the culture that originally created these
practices versus whether one was raised in an outsider culture and only discovered
and took up such practices later in life.




In sharp contrast, there is ample evidence that sex, gender,
and sexuality naturally vary in the population, not only because of culture and
environment, but also because of biological variation.[8] And all of us are
socialized into cultures where there are a multitude of different expressions
of gender and sexuality. Some of these expressions may be considered feminine,
masculine, or androgynous. They may be described as queer or straight, or as unusual
or normal. But regardless of what labels and meanings others might project onto
these different gender and sexual expressions, all of these variations exist within the society in which we are raised.
They are arguably all a part of our culture.




While sex, gender, and sexuality naturally vary within the
population, we live in a world where such expressions and identities are highly
policed. And they are primarily policed via the tropes of “authenticity” and “naturalness.”




In the culture at large, feminine gender expressions and
attraction toward men are viewed as authentic and natural when expressed by
women, but not by men. Masculine gender expressions and attraction toward women
are viewed as authentic and natural when expressed by men, but not by women.
Penile-vaginal penetration sex between monogamous partners is viewed as the
only authentic and natural form of sex, whereas most other sexual interests and
acts are dismissed as inauthentic and unnatural.




The concepts of “authentic,” “natural,” and “real” lie at
the heart of almost all manifestations of societal cissexism. The notion that
transsexuals are not “authentic” women or men, or that genderqueer people have
not chosen an “authentic” gender, enable the cisgender majority to dismiss our
identities as “inauthentic,” and thus misgender us as they see fit. The “trans
panic” phenomenon is steeped in assumption that trans people are deceivers who
pose as an “inauthentic” gender while hiding our supposed “real” gender. It is
commonly presumed that people who partner with trans people do not experience
“authentic” attraction to us, but rather that they are driven by some kind of
“fetish”—a word derived from the Portuguese word for “artificial.”




The point is that, while gender and sexuality naturally vary,
sexual- and gender-non-conformity is rigorously punished in our society via
accusations of inauthenticity, whether it be claims that trans people’s gender
identities are “inauthentic,” that asexual/bisexual/lesbian/gay people’s sexual
attractions (or lack thereof) are “unnatural,” or that straight cisgender
people are not “real women” or “real men” because of some relatively minor gender
transgression they may have committed (e.g., not shaving their legs, expressing
too much emotion, or having a gender atypical occupation). And calling
someone’s non-EED expressions of gender or sexuality “appropriative” is really
just another way of dismissing them as “inauthentic” (which is precisely why trans-exclusive
radical feminists so frequently accuse trans women of appropriation, as it
depicts us as merely fakes, pretenders, impersonators, and imposters).




There are no “authentic” expressions of gender and
sexuality. There are merely those that are deemed legitimate in society and
those that are dismissed as inauthentic. While I understand why some LGBTQIA+
people might be inclined to describe non-EED acts of sexual- and
gender-non-conformity as “appropriation” (especially when the person engaging
in them appears straight, cisgender, etc.), I fear that such accusations may only perpetuate the real/fake, natural/unnatural, and authentic/inauthentic binaries
that are so often used to undermine our own genders and sexualities.




Conclusion




This essay was intended to illustrate that the concept of
appropriation is way more complicated than many people seem to realize, and
that non-EED appropriation is not necessarily a bad thing, depending on your
politics and perspective. Furthermore, I hope that people will recognize that
cultural permeability is an absolute necessity for LGBTQIA+ communities to
exist and flourish, and that claims that certain non-EED expressions of gender
or sexuality are “appropriative” will only lend support to existing binary
gender norms and to the false notion that certain genders and sexualities are
more “natural,” “real,” or “authentic” than others.




Moving forward, I believe that we should continue to
critique instances of EED appropriation, but it would help if we were more
explicit about why such instances are bad. Specifically, rather than simply
crying “appropriation” (which often conflates EED and non-EED appropriation, and
can also implicate acts that merely resemble those that occur in
marginalized/minority groups), we should explicitly discuss how such acts either
erase, exploit, and/or denigrate the marginalized/minority group in question.




Notes:




1. Definitions from Dictionary.com .




2. See WhippingGirl , pages 195-212.




3. For the record, the group did occasionally have closed
meetings where only trans folks themselves could attend. But many, if not most,
of the meetings were open to partners and friends as well.




4. It must also be said that these groups were more easily able
to integrate because they are both white and Christian, and thus they did not
have to overcome the entrenched racism and Christian-centrism that continue to
proliferate in the U.S.




5. I have appropriated the phrase "cultural
appreciation" from Susan Scafidi, Who
Owns Culture?: Appropriation and Authenticity in American Law (New
Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2005); see pages 6-11.




6. Here is a real life example of this: Way back before my
transition, I played in a band. And on a few occasions, a male friend
from another band and I would make out on stage during our set. We did it primarily
for the same reason that Kurt Cobain and Krist Novoselic of Nirvana famously
kissed on national TV—to make homophobes uncomfortable, to challenge
heterosexism. I suppose that some people in the audience could have viewed us
as two “straight dudes” who were trying to garner “indie-cred” by appropriating
queerness, but in reality, both of us had been sexual with men previously and
we both eventually wound up identifying as bisexual.




7. This is discussed in great length in Scafidi, Who Owns Culture?, especially pages
52-66.


































































































































































































































































































































8. See Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements MoreInclusive, pages 138-168, and references therein.

Julia Serano update - NEW BOOK release & tour dates!

So in the last few days, I've sent out news/invites to my new book release and tour to my email list and Twitter & Facebook accounts. For those who aren't "socially connected" to me in those ways, all the pertinent info is listed here. (and btw, if you want to join my email list, you can do so here.)



Julia's NEW BOOK release and tour!



So my second book is coming out:



Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive

click the link to read excerpts and reviews about it!



It officially comes out October 1st, but a lot of stores (including online book sellers) have it in stock already!



I will be touring in support of Excluded - the following book readings are confirmed:



Berkeley, CA

Thursday, October 3, 2013 -- Pegasus Books (2349 Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley, CA), 7:30pm.



San Francisco, CA

Thursday, October 10, 2013 -- Modern Times Bookstore, (2919 24th Street, San Francisco, CA) at 7pm.



Boston, MA

Thursday, October 17, 2013 -- Calamus Bookstore, (92 S St # B, Boston, MA 02111) at 7pm.



Philadelphia, PA

Friday, October 18, 2013 -- Giovanni’s Room, (345 South 12th Street (at Pine), Philadelphia, PA 19107) at 5:30pm.



New York, NY

Monday, October 21, 2013 -- Bluestockings, (172 Allen St., New York City, NY 10002) at 7pm.



Chicago, IL

Thursday, November 7, 2013 -- Women and Children First Books, (5233 N. Clark St. Chicago, IL 60640) at 7:30pm.



Cincinnati, OH

Friday, November 8, 2013 -- book signing (not a reading) at the Seal Press booth at the National Women’s Studies Association conference at 4pm, then a reading at Joseph-Beth Booksellers (2692 Madison Rd, Cincinnati, OH 45208) at 7pm.



Toronto, Canada

Sunday, November 10th -- Glad Day Bookshop, (598A Yonge Street, Toronto, Canada) at 7pm.



Portland, OR

Tuesday, December 3, 2013 -- Powell’s City of Books, (1005 W. Burnside St., Portland, OR) at 7:30pm.



Seattle WA

Wednesday, December 4, 2013 -- Elliott Bay Book Company, (1521 Tenth Avenue, Seattle WA, 98122) at 7pm.



I also hope to give readings and presentations about the book at various colleges/universities over the course of the academic year. If you are affiliated with a college - especially if you belong to a LGBTQIA+ and/or feminist-related organization - please consider bringing me out to your campus!



Feel free to share this info with anyone & everyone! -julia

Myriad Double Standards

So last week, my new book,
Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive,
was reviewed in Publisher's Weekly - you can read the review here.
It is generally positive and I am pretty happy with it! However, there is one
line in the review that I feel misconstrues what I was trying to say in the
book. Namely, the reviewer describes my supposed ‘denial of the existence of a
“gender system”’ and how it ‘flies in the face of much social research.’




I could imagine that people
who read that review without having read the whole book might presume that I am
denying that gender norms, assumptions, stereotypes, etc., often work together
in a coordinated way to legitimize certain people but not others. Or that I am
denying that gender-based oppression is institutionalized and entrenched in our
culture. I can assure you that I do not deny any of these things.




When I discuss “gender systems”
in the book, I am not talking about these sets of gendered norms, assumptions,
and related double standards themselves, but rather the abstract theories that
we create in order to describe and explain those systems. Some feminists have
described this set of institutionalized double standards as “the patriarchy,” “the
sex/gender system,” or “compulsory heterosexuality.” Various LGBTQIA+ activists
have described them in terms of “heteronormativity,” “the heterosexual matrix,”
or “the gender binary.” People who take a more intersectional approach might
conceptualize them in terms of “kyriarchy.” And so on.




In Excluded, I describe these “gender systems” - whether it be
patriarchy, the gender binary, and so on - as being models that provide a
fairly decent approximation of how sexism and marginalization function in our
culture. However, like all models, they are necessarily incomplete, and there
will always be instances where they do not accurately describe the world.




For instance, when cisgender
radical feminists talk about the patriarchy, their model includes traditional
sexism, but generally not cissexism/transphobia. And this omission enables them
to completely ignore societal cissexism, and to mischaracterize trans people as
“male oppressors” (as seen in depictions of trans women as “appropriators” and
“infiltrators,” and trans men as “traitors to the feminist cause”).




Similarly, while the gender
binary concept accounts for numerous forms of sexism, it does not really
account for monosexism/biphobia. This omission often enables trans activists to
ignore societal monosexism, and to assert that people who identify as bisexual“reinforce the the gender binary.”




In other words, when we
subscribe to one particular gender system concept (whether it be patriarchy,
the gender binary, etc.), we will write some people's experiences with sexism
and marginalization out of our theories and analyses, thereby excluding them
from our feminist or queer movements.




For this reason (and other
reasons not discussed here), I make the case that, instead of conceptualizing
sexism and marginalization in terms of fixed gender systems, we should
recognize that there are myriad double
standards. As I put it in the book:




“Some of these double
standards are pervasive, even institutionalized, while others are fleeting,
temporary, or loosely held. Some double standards change or disappear over time
while others remain entrenched for century upon century. Some double standards
are obvious to us while others may remain beyond our awareness. We may fight
with all our might to overturn certain double standards, yet at the same time
we may consciously or unconsciously hold or enforce other double standards.” 




Elsewhere in Excluded, I say: “Thinking about sexism
and marginalization in terms of myriad double standards implores us to
challenge all double standards: those that are prevalent, and those that are
rare; those that negatively impact us, and those that negatively impact others;
those that we are currently aware of, as well as those that are currently
unknown to us. Having such a mindset can make us more open to learning about
new double standards when they are first described to us (rather than outright
dismissing them because they do not fit into our worldview), and more mindful
of the fact that we ourselves are fallible (as we may be unknowingly engaging
in, or enforcing, certain double standards ourselves). Perhaps most
importantly, thinking in terms of myriad double standards encourages humility,
as it forces us to admit that there are many aspects of gender and sexism that
we do not personally experience, and therefore cannot fully know about. For
this reason, it would be conceited for us to project our fixed and limited
perspective of the universe onto other people.”



So anyway, that is a brief
seven paragraph explanation of a concept that I layout over the course of
several chapters in the book. There is more to it than this, but this should at
least give people a bit of an introduction to the idea. Recognizing that there
are myriad double standards compels us to devise approaches that challenge all
double standards simultaneously (even ones that we may not be aware of), and I
discuss a number of such strategies over the second half of the book. So stay
tuned! 




The book officially comes out on October 1st, more info about
it can be found here.

Two new articles about trans women in queer women's communities

So in the last two days, two articles have come out about how trans women are often excluded from, or made to feel unwelcome within, lesbian and queer women's communities.



The dyke-oriented magazine/website Velvetpark just published my piece "How to Be an Ally to Trans Women." It is an excerpt from my new book Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive, which officially comes out October 1st, but may appear in stores as early as mid-September, so keep an eye out for it!



The other article appears in the Huffington Post, and is called "Are Queer Women Leaving Trans Women Behind?" Several trans women are interviewed in it, including myself.



Some much needed attention for an issue that is often overlooked or ignored... -j.