LY #63 Transgender Awareness

CommProf in drag

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance at COCC, a part of the national Transgender Awareness Week.

 I thought this might be a good time to mention that I once considered gender reassignment surgery.

Picture me in the stacks at old library at Idaho State University, circa 1978, looking through books detailing how the surgery was performed and the statistics on success.  The data showed that at the time, female to male surgery was incredibly expensive and rarely completely effective.  Combine that with the (possibly inherent) prejudice for masculine height and I decided that it was better to live life as an androgynous female than as a short man.

1960s Barbie for sale on Etsy

Why did I want to be a man?  Well, it was less a matter of wanting to be a man than of not wanting to be female.  I'd never been particularly comfortable being a "girl."  From grade school on I had not dislike being put in that category.  In kindergarten, when the teachers tried to tell me that I had to play in the "girls" area where kids played house, I put up a fuss because I wanted to play in the boys area with the cars and big blocks.  (I don't know if my parents interfered in this particular fight, but I got my way and never set foot in the "girls" area again.)  In sixth grade I had enough of a vocabulary to self-identify as a "misogynist."   In seventh or eighth grade, there were various "tests" that kids gave each other to "prove" gender.  One of them was "How do you look at your fingernails?"  Girls were supposed to put their hands out, fingers spread, palms down, whereas boys supposedly  curled their fingers over an upward-facing palm.  I don't know how I originally performed the act but I started purposefully doing it like the boys.

Now, I did love my Barbie, but that was because she looked like Annette Funicello and I could imagine taking her to a dance in the amazing black and crystal ball gown my Mom sewed for her.   And, really, I cried way too often for a boy.  Even so, I thought it would be better to be a boy and be able to punch people when they were mean to one.

And, of course, it was clear to anybody with a brain that males had it "better," except for that whole draft thing.  They weren't judged as much on their appearance (so I thought) and they had more freedom of movement.

 Becoming a "member" of the queer community when I got to college eased some of the discomfort I felt being female.  Then, after about a year in my first job, I quit, went away and looked for work in the Bay Area, then returned home and fell into what I've called a "nervous breakdown" or a "major depressive event."  During the next two years when I had trouble being in the world I looked around for all the possible reasons.  It was during this time that I thought about gender reassignment surgery.

I haven't thought of it since.  I've grown used to this body and things have greatly improved since the sixties for people with without penes. 

I guess I share this because making the decision that one is not the gender one was born isn't as purely biological and unaffected by culture and history as some folks make it seem. Contrary to what the scientist Lady Gaga says, being born a particular way isn't the only thing that impacts one's gender identity or preferences.