Leaning in...

“What do you mean there is no male privilege?”

I was doing my best to keep my voice even, to sound matter of fact – as if I were simply inquiring about the weather or his disinterest in a television show I follow. “Seriously, you don’t watch Grey’s Anatomy?” followed by a raised eyebrow and then a silly quip. 

This wasn’t about television though, this was about privilege.

“What about racism?” I asked. Reynard is a 6ft 2in black man with milk chocolate skin and eyes to match- but if he subscribed to a so-called colorblind world than I knew it was a futile argument. “Of course there is racism” he replied with a hint of “duh” in his voice. 

At least we had some common ground so I waded around in that world for a little bit. We talked about the subtle ways blackness is marked as other or different or inferior. We talk so well, we’re not like others, clutching of purses, assumptions about our rearing. The usual.

Then I took a right turn at religion. 

The religious card is easy enough for me because it isn’t something I’m vested in. One of the reasons I find it difficult to be religious is the seemingly arbitrary rules. 

“What about man as the head of the house?” I asked. “That is inherently placing a man in a superior position.”

“Not really,” he responded vaguely. Then he talked for a while in circles that reiterated that it was ok for the head of a household to be dictated by danglies but also denied that was somehow a privilege of said danglies. 

I was exasperated and, after talking myself in circles, I slunk into my seat and continued our drive in silence. 

I can’t pass judgment on Reynard even if I want to, I fear that right now I am him on trans issues.

I am ignorant. 

I had never heard or thought of trans issues (other than as punchlines that are so common on television and in movies) prior to moving to California. I was part of the mainstream and didn’t “have” to learn. But California life happened and several things converged and brought it to my attention.

·         I said something stupid to a friend and she rightly corrected me

·         I became acquainted with a trans man

·         I saw W. Kamau Bell’s set on trans issues

·         I saw Janet Mock on Colbert

Clearly exposure is key.

W. Kamau Bell talked about leaning into difficult conversations – be they racism, sexism, homophobia, or …I’m not even sure what it is to be transphobic…I guess that is the term.

Somewhere along that time Janet Mock came into my sphere of knowing and so I vowed to read her book, Redefining Realness. I want to understand. The very least I can strive for is to not be an asshole and at my best I could be an ally.

And so I’ve been trying to understand. Two-thirds into Redefining Realness I don’t feel myself understanding any better. In fact, I find myself aggravated at what feels like reinforcement of gender norms – girls should be dainty and delicate and sassy and well put together, boys should be butch and like sports and hang out with men. I want to scream…but this isn’t about my issues with gender norms, this is about my quest to understand trans issues without assuming it is a trans person’s responsibility to explain to me. 

I don’t feel substantially further along than I was when I started; I’ve gained no new insight.

I honored self-selected pronouns before reading the book. I respected choice before. 

A co-worker described it as not feeling as if you were born into the right body. And when she is talking to me it makes perfect sense and I nod my head. And then a few hours later I find myself grasping for that understanding. And it is gone. 

It is easy for me not to grasp- for whatever issues I have about how people view my version of womanhood, I feel like I fit in my body, I am cisgendered. If I understand nothing else, I know that is a luxury not everyone has.

I can easily be Reynard. I can be righteously indignant at the Supreme Court for not recognizing race privilege, Reynard for not recognizing gender privildge, and at the same time be blind to my own privildge. Privildge of citizenship, and primary language, and my body reflecting who I feel I am in it. 

In my quest to understand…and it continues…I realize that it doesn’t actually matter if I understand; trans issues don’t cease to exist or cease to be important just because I haven’t managed to grasp them yet. In the meantime, I’ll keep reading.