When I decided to
retire, it was never one of my fantasies that I would hang out on the golf
course or sit on the couch eating bonbons and watching soap operas (although
the bonbon part has a certain appeal). I know that some folks long for a
retirement steeped in leisure, but my own particular penchant is for keeping
busy—in fact, not keeping busy is
actually dangerous for my mental health. And I guess it’s no surprise that as
someone who spent 60 years going back to school every fall, my idea of “busy”
includes a whole lot of learning new stuff. Sometimes, this means taking
classes—a pastime I have recently raved about here. Other times, though, it
just means keeping my eyes and ears open for chances to learn something. Being
in a college town helps, of course, as does having partner who is equally eager
to keep learning.
This last weekend,
I had just such an opportunity. On Friday and Saturday, CU’s GLBTQ Resource
Center hosted the 7th annual “TRANSforming Gender Symposium,” a
two-day focus on (perhaps obviously) transgender identity and experience.
Notice, that’s 7th annual! Given that trans issues are just
now filtering into public (as opposed to activist or academic) consciousness, the
fact that this is number 7 is really impressive. Each year, this remarkable
event brings in nationally known experts on trans issues, adds a bunch of films
and workshops led by local folks, and then invites the whole university and the
surrounding community to come learn. The conference is designed to serve both
the trans community and folks with other interests in the topic—personal, academic,
professional, or simply human interests.
As with other conferences
that I’ve written about, I struggle with how to discuss this experience: a
“book report,” a story line, an attempt
at synthesis, a “highlights” reel? This time, I think I’ll just tell you about the
very best parts of the conference (IMHO), thinking you might add these things
to your list and leap at any opportunity to experience them yourself.
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1. The opening keynote: Eli Clair is a genderqueer writer and
activist who has cerebral palsy, which expands his activism in complex and
enlightening ways. Eli’s talk was about shame. Specifically, it was about body
shame; more specifically, about body shame experienced by trans people and
people with disabilities. His presentation was so powerful—lyrical and moving, and
at the same time full of information and challenging analyses. I heard one
participant refer to it as “academic poetry.”
Eli’s talk wove together personal
experiences, links among queerness, disability, class, gender, and race, a poem
about eating watermelon, and a recurrent admonition to resist shame. Deep and
moving barely describe it. And then came the “Q and A,” which he prefers to
call a “community discussion,” insisting he has no answers. But he sure had
some thoughtful insights. For example, on the notion of trans identity as
biologically based, Eli first acknowledged the importance to some trans folks
of a medical diagnosis—it’s the only way to get insurance coverage for
transition-related medical procedures and hormones. But on a more fundamental
level, he wondered aloud what we tell ourselves when we excuse our identities
by an appeal to a lack of choice, a “born that way” argument. Why, he asked,
would anyone think that making an ethical choice is less valid than somehow
becoming who we already are?
As for marriage and the all-out push for
marriage equality, he says, as others have, first, it’s the battle we have.
Whether or not it’s the one we might have chosen, it’s the one we have. But as
it moves forward, we need to pay attention to who’s left behind. Sure, it will be
nice for people to pass their pensions on to their partners. But what about
those of us, he asked, who don’t have pensions and never will?
While it’s true that I agree with the points
Eli made—although he made them far more persuasively and poetically than I can—there
was so much more to his presentation than his personal positions on thorny issues. His comments about shame, his poetry, his
personal recollections were, simply, beautiful. I’m finding it hard to convey
the impact of Eli’s presentation, so I’ll just encourage you to watch for a
chance to hear him. You’ll be glad you did.
2. The movie “Intersexion”: This is one of the
very best documentary movies I have seen in a very long time. If you click on the
link above (“Intersexion”), you can see a trailer that’ll give you a hint. I went
to see this film because although I knew some stuff about intersex identity, I really
didn’t know much. The “I” is only
occasionally included in our alphabet soup (LGBTQI). When it is, the discussion almost always turns immediately
awkward because (a) few folks know anything at all about intersex issues—at best, only that
it describes folks who don’t fit the “gender binary”; and (b) people are
uncomfortable with the topic—not least
because it involves discussions of genitalia and it so totally disrupts what
seems like the most obvious of divisions: the biological division of people
into female and male.
The movie is based on interviews with a number
of intersex folks who have had a range of experiences—from multiple involuntary
(and typically futile) surgeries to validating, supportive parents, and
everything in between. Some still struggle mightily as adults; some are
comfortably at home with their lives. The film also includes some interesting
historical, medical, and other assorted factual information—some of which was
new to me and some of which I knew about only through psychology’s sort of
feeble attempts to address the issue.
Here are some of the things I learned:
Intersex is not nearly as rare as we might think. About 1 in every 2000 kids is
born with some constellation of characteristics that identify them as intersex.
Yet we rarely (if ever) hear about it, so carefully have we hidden it from
view, so invisibilized have all these folks been. As one person in the video
says, “Intersex isn’t uncommon; it’s just unheard of.” Intersex isn’t just one entity;
it includes a wide range of variations on the usual she/he, male/female
dichotomy: variations in genitalia (differences
in the presence/absence and/or size of the penis, vagina, labia, testicles);
differences in chromosomal make-up (combinations other than XX or XY, like XXY, X0, XYY, etc.); differences in
internal organs and their correspondence to external ones (penis with uterus,
vagina with male gonads, all or none of the above, etc.); and lots of others.
The sample of folks interviewed here are
likely more at ease with their identity than are many other intersex people—otherwise,
they wouldn’t be willing to be on film. They surely represent a tiny slice of
the whole population of intersex people. Watching the movie, I wondered to
myself which of the many thousands of people I’ve known in my life might identify,
if only privately, as intersex. How thoroughly we have stigmatized this human
experience—this human variation that challenges our most simple and concrete certainties about
the nature of reality—and at the expense of how many people.
So, those are my personal favorites from a
symposium with many other programs to choose from. I’ll be watching for it to
come around again next year: the 8th annual TRANSforming Gender Symposium. Maybe you will too. They welcome out-of-state folks.
So much to learn, so little time.
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