This is a group of pieces I did starting in 2020 about my own gender identity. It consists of sketchbook entries, long term projects, and watercolor paintings. Art has been an outlet for me to process, a way to reflect on my identities and relationships to them. I wanted to show this group because I wanted to add something personal to the archive, a selection of pieces about my own gender journey.
The first painting is from 2020, when it was the start of the pandemic and I was back home. I was in my parent’s’ house, all my classes were on zoom, and I was in a painting class. I had been reflecting on my coming out in comparison to where I was with my gender at the time. I was two years on T and getting close to a year since my top surgery. I was strides ahead of my past self that was struggling with being trans and being in high school. My HRT routine was a moment of solace in the start of the pandemic, something familiar but newer than being in my childhood bedroom again. At the time, I wanted the piece to be something simplistic, it was based off a photo of me doing my t shot, capturing a singular and personal moment.
The most recent piece and last in the slideshow, was worked on in a much different place, my own apartment and in my senior year of college. I have been out for over 5 years and my understanding of my own gender is still evolving. I wanted to show something that felt more queer, more fluid than the past pieces. In comparison to the 2020 painting, I have been thinking more about the future. The idea of a trans adulthood feels more real than it did when I first came out, or even more so over the past year. My transition has been very much taking one day at a time, but I have settled more into myself and entered my early twenties, the idea of my own future and adulthood is real. Trans adulthood feels unmapped. I wanted this piece to be about self love, growth, and comfort in my body. It comes from a more concrete place and less abstracted than many of the early pieces. I wanted it to be celebratory with pansies and whimsical elements for my queerness and movement forward.
As the title says, this is an amateur’s guide for trans femmes/women (or anybody in that proximity, myself and trans femme) attracted cis-gendered men. No, I won’t be getting into queer identity terms. You can quickly google those. Although! I will provide a link to a glossary and suggest you look into the terms gynosexual, anrodesual, and skoliosexual. This isn’t to say they are the most “efficient” terms, but they are a good starting point to explore terms that fit the bill. I agree that labels can be exhausting, but sometimes finding a name for it feels good. It makes it tangible, possible, and accurate. And to expand on that feeling, I will be providing resources in the hopes that they will aid in your journey of exploring your sexual/romantic attraction/s! It might seem like So, with that being said…
Just take the pieces that feel good, and you can leave the rest behind. 🙂
This video gives a quick rundown of trans attraction, and is pretty accessible to those who learn the language of queer identity labels- we’ll call them.
The presenter is Dr. Wendy Ashley who has a Doctorate in Clinical Psychology. She has practiced therapy and counseling for over 25 years.
I figured this would be a great start to your journey.
Cute, you thought you were gonna get away with having to read. I know this book is ancient, but sometimes it’s helpful to just get down to the basics. The past usually tends to figure out the basics for us.
This book is essentially a curation of academic articles that highlight the prominent concerns and challenges with men’s sexuality. Writing is pretty accessible, FYI. And through my lived-in-experience, it seems to me that those concerns and challenges are exacerbated when the relationship is with a trans femme/women person
Concerns and challenges include, but are not limited to…
– Nonrelational sex – The Centerfold Syndrome (one of my faves!) – Appearance obsession – Don Juanism (ooh, this one’s good too.) – Sex as a commodity – Sexual Harassment and rape – Male gender socialization – Perpetration of sexual abuse – and more!
As suggested by the concepts and topics discussed in this book, I should give a…
TRIGGER WARNING!
Friendly reminders to be gentle with yourselves, lovies. ❤
And so now, I present…
Box No. 512 Podcast: Grown Black Women Talk hosted by Aeon and The Lioness.
They are both trans women and speak the truths they have acquired throughout their lived experiences.
to connect the dots between Men and Sex,
I RECOMMEND THE EPISODES:
– Trans Women as the Default – Yes Cis, That Was Transphobic
The episode should be listened to in order, and I believe they are the second and third episodes.
I believe they’ve stopped doing it for a minute, but it’s a great podcast!
So! Trans Bodies, Trans Selves. This is basically the bible for trans people that pertains to anything and everything. An exagaration onviously, but it’s a good one!
Each chapter explores a diffeent issue within the limitless potentialities of what a trans* person’s life can look like. Issues and guidarnce all the way from medical transitions to relationships to race to etc!
It’ll be helpful to have something aroung when you discover a trans* something that you don’t know about. It gets really laborous if you turn to your tran* partner to educate about everything.
Look how cute the cover for the second edition is! I have the first edition, and this is like the first time I’m actully buying an additional edition of the same book.
So there you have it; these books helped me understand the perspectives and considerations of wanting to be in partnership with cis-meen, and that’s alright. There is definitely a shortage of perspectives Also, there are so many books about the trans experience out there. Give it a google, give it a browse. Good luck on your journey! TRANS* LOVE FOREVER.
Adrian, Domingo, and Rudolf graciously gathered some of their favorite clothing items and allowed me to photograph them as they are, as trans masculine beauties in the year of twenty twenty-two. During this process, we discussed our experiences with the concept of femininity, and how that experience shaped our transitions.
adrian (he/they)domingo (they/he)rudolf (he/they)
Before transitioning, feminity felt like looking how people expected you to. I dont think there was a language to explain… –Adrian
My creativity was roped into my femininity, but who has that energy to police themselves? –Rudolf
Transmasculine people on the internet in the mid and late 2010s set the standard that you have to hate yourself to be trans. Being queer and trans wasn’t reflected in that experience, and that influential internal misogyny was everywhere. I just knew that that kind of masculinity wasn’t me. –Adrian
..I was so busy hating it to think about the femininity, but trying to be cis became so tiring. Not being taken seriously is too much to handle. –Rudolf
In the begining of transitioning, youre wiping everything thats been feminine about yourself. -Adrian
A lot of trans people feel shame for their childhood. I spent time trying to never aknowledge that I was socialized as a little girl. Now, I awknoledge the little kid I was, through all the memories that I buried because I thought I was supposed to. I can look in the mirror and know whats going on there, and not really care. –Rudolf
I hope us being us can give other queers some hope that you can be fruity and trans. -Adrian
Transitioning changed my perspective on embracing femininty as I embraced trans-gayness. –Rudolf
milicent (she/her)
“I identify and percieve every lens of life through womanhood, and its really cool to have a set of terms that feel comfortable”
“It took me understanding transness as a deeply political identity, especially as a trans feminine person. After the shooting at Club Q, my transness became hyper-visible. People look at me like they had never seen a trans girl outside an article about her death.”
“Statistics of trans women, of black trans women, shoe the danger that comes with more intersections. So many cis people on social media only see trans people in times of crisis, when their mutual aid posts are being shared, and choose not to engage.”
Below is a collection of work by Pace Taylor, a trans, non-binary, neuroqueer artist from Portland. They describe themselves as being “emotionally preoccupied with intimacy, and who we choose to share it with”. I was introduced to Taylor through a friend and began following them on Instagram, pace__taylor. I was instantly attracted to their art because of the bright pastel colors contrasted by heavy graphite. After exploring more about them and their art I learned that they create their scenes from found or self-produced images of “assumed queers”, who they depict as genderless.
Taylor received their BFA in Digital Arts from the University of Oregon in 2015 and are currently represented by Nationale. They’ve displayed their art in studios throughout Oregon including three solo exhibitions and a number of collaborative projects, most of which are geared towards visibility and awareness of trans lives and artists. Their art is concerned with community, acceptance, communication, belonging, tenderness and so much more. They also claim that their art is of and for queer people, and so I wanted to share it with you all!
I’ve done my best to display their art in chronological order and have included quotes I’ve found from interviews and their Instagram that either accompany the images themselves or were from the time they were working on a particular series. I also found that a few of the studios they’ve shown for have some beautiful missions, so I included some information about them as well. I hope you enjoy!
Five Oak’s exhibition Gender Euphoria: Contemporary Art Beyond the Binary, July 2020.
Due to the pandemic, the exhibition was converted to an entirely online experience in order to maintain visibility of the artists and access to the audience. The following is a statement from guest curator Becca Owen (they/them).
“In this shift of Gender Euphoria to a virtual form, I hope to demonstrate the adaptability and fluidity that characterize many individual’s experiences of transness and genderqueerness…The exhibition resists dominant heteronormative culture by bringing together images of gender euphoria, envisioning a world that respects the diverse lived experiences of trans contemporary artists and their communities…The exhibition depicts diverse truths about gender identity, and opposes the reification of a singular, dominant narrative of genderqueerness. This exhibition of contemporary art by trans and genderqueer artists shares goals of collective liberation and justice with the Black Lives Matter movement…All Gender Euphoria events and programming are free and open to anyone who would like to register.”
Inside Sounds .o4Eating Together Means Everything To MeLoving Addendums .o4 Place, becoming Feeling. Feeling, becoming PlaceMemory fails; a flower
“Recently, I’ve been thinking a fair bit about Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower. In it, she writes ‘Taking care of other people can be a good cure for nightmares.’ I believe that the act of making art is a form of care. Perhaps not as direct as active community support through check-ins, wealth redistribution, etc., yet vital to emotional well-being. The role of the artist throughout history has been to write or paint or sculpt or code the emotional landscape, both crystallizing these moments in time and shaping possible futures. In this strange time we’ve found ourselves in, I hope we can continue to collectively dream of better futures.” pace__taylor
First solo exhibition at Nationale, March-April 2021 – I hear voices from the other room, but I can’t make out the words
“In my work, I am moved by the presence of touch, of color, of bitter sweetness, of elastic memory, and the possibility of connection. I am motivated to make images so that I can process the world I walk through as a non-binary trans person, and as an autistic person. I look to the queer people walking through history as giants; long and large steps through difficult landscapes. I take comfort in knowing that even though they might not have lived as visibly as they wanted to at the time, I can see them clearly now. I like to think that time is not linear and that my witnessing of the people in the photographs I work from brings them into the present, or at least a space outside of time where they get to live freely and deliberately.”
So LongingWho am I in the nightNorma Jean’s DreamEmbrace .o1Embrace .o2Embrace .o3
Topical Contemporary’s Transformation Residency, September 2021 – Pieces from I am a Witness, a collection of drawings and sketches of hands and arms presented on found paper.
The Transformative Residency program, partnered with Trans*Ponder, “aims to lessen the social, political, and economic barriers to artistic creation”, specifically that of Oregon based trans and gender nonconforming artists, by providing financial sponsorship.
“As I was installing yesterday, I was reflecting on why I feel this series is a queer work, and why I felt compelled to make it in the context of a residency centering trans experiences. I ended up considering how my trans identity is made up of many moving parts, often picked up from my relationships with other trans people (friendships, romances, reading strangers’ stories, film, fashion, etc), and all overlapping, sometimes obscuring parts, and at other times highlighting them. I would not have been able to contextualize myself without the help of others. Being in a body is hard! But it’s a little easier, and certainly more fulfilling, when you can share it with others.”pace__taylor
In June 2022, Taylor held their Second solo exhibition at Nationale, June-July, 2022 – Breath when you need to
The series, Breath when you need to, is Taylor’s nod to gender-nonconforming surrealist artist Claude Cahun, whose art involves self-presentation and self-preservation through the use of “masking”. Taylor conceptualizes masking as a “multi-dimensional term that relates to their creative process, to autism, and to gender identity.”
Under this mask, another mask. I will never be finished removing all these faces. —Claude Cahun
Eye Contact IEye Contact IIYou add to yourself, a wrinkleThe bather (a very cold winter)
Mirror, mirror (in blue)
Third solo exhibit La Loma Projects, November 2022 – Dancing feels a lot like falling
“I looked to Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, a film about a detective who falls in love with a woman who does not exist, as a grounding device for this body of work. Hitchcock, for all of his many flaws, created a film that reflects upon and deconstructs his controlling nature and desire to mold women to his ideals. These qualities of perfectionism and control are rife in queer spaces, where watching and being watched underpins any night out. I’ve found myself participating in this desirability dance, leaning into an idealized version of myself; one removed from a lifetime of slow rejections, at least for one night. At times, that version of myself has permeated into relationships, and I’ve willed myself to become another person, only to find myself lost. Fear of rejection is as important as the desire to be desired, though these two impulses are at odds with one another. In Dancing, there is no murder mystery or thrilling conclusion, just questions:
‘What made me this way?’
‘What made you this way?’
‘How may we meet each other honestly?'”
It’s not for me to sayPeople needing other peopleKissing in the Dark (Make Me Over)Table for One
“Trying to parse out Intimacy throughout my life has been a consistent but troubled fascination. I spent most of my free time growing up consuming media steeped in romance (albeit heteronormative and problematic) and built my interpersonal lexicon around the language – verbal and otherwise – wrapped up in the big and small screen, and I’ve spent my few adult years unpacking and replacing those problematic ideologies with new ones. And I’ve realized, now knowing that I am autistic and queer, that romance and intimacy are not binary. They are not set. I’ve realized that in queering these concepts you leave a lot more room for personal evolution and capacity for care. I don’t know if all of this comes across in my drawings or not, but I draw for myself and in doing so I hope that that leaves room for others to join me.”
I always knew that I was different, but for a long time, I didn’t know how. It didn’t occur to me that my gender could be different from what everyone told me it was. That I could be transgender. I barely even knew what transness was. It took me a long time to realize that I was trans, even though there were many signs.
In elementary school, for instance, I was more comfortable around the girls than I ever was around the “other boys.” I simply felt like I had more in common with the girls. Most of my closest friends were girls. In one of my classes, I would often try to sit with the girls, but I usually had no luck, as the class had tables of three, and the three girls in the class were friends. During recess, I would often be on the girls’ team for freeze tag (we called it “Boys Chase Girls” or “Girls Chase Boys” depending on which team was “it”).
Throughout middle school and the beginning of high school, though, the signs were much more hidden, and they became mostly internal. Mostly, I would just daydream about becoming a girl. I would often fantasize about swapping bodies with a girl (I usually justified this fantasy in my head with the thought that either it was done to me or everyone else was doing it as well). For a week, I experimented with wearing a makeshift skirt under my jeans, and felt a lot of gender euphoria from it, even though I didn’t know what that was at the time. It was around this time when I read Rick Riordan’s Magnus Chase and was first introduced to gender fluidity through Alex Fierro, a character in the series. I did question if I could be genderfluid while reading the series, but my only reference to gender fluidity was this character who was only either male or female, so I assumed that that was what being genderfluid meant. Deep down, I knew that I wasn’t ever male, so I rejected the idea at the time.
I drew this piece of art to symbolize societal pressures and attitudes toward trans individuals. The person on the right is holding an umbrella as a way to shield others from the rain, or the pressures of society. The person on the right has been struggling with trying to please other people and fit into the boxes that society wants them to fit in. But they don’t fit in the boxes, and they don’t want to. They are realizing that they can be themselves and are starting to smile because they don’t feel so alone anymore.
I struggled for a long time with pleasing others. As a trans person, I felt that I had to choose to please society instead of making myself happy for most of my life. But not fitting into what other people wanted and figuring out who I really was is when I truly found myself and learned how to be happy.
What is pregnancy? Pregnancy includes the conception, gestation, and birth of a child from an individual with a uterus and ovaries (Trans Hub). Almost all teachings and media surrounding pregnancy are aimed at cis women and do little to support the inclusion of trans men and nonbinary people. Teachings of conception and pregnancy in the classroom are almost always centered around a cis female model with cis language (e.g., female pronouns, feminine descriptions of body parts) and fail to include trans men and nonbinary people even though many of them have the capability to conceive and carry a child. There is also often a presumption that trans men do not want to have children (which can be true in some cases) when the ability to do so is not limited to just cis women (Leeds University).
Gender Affirming Care and Pregnancy Many trans people undergo different methods of gender-affirming care, such as hormone replacement therapy (e.g., testosterone shots for trans men), top surgery (e.g., mastectomy or breast augmentation), the removal of natal reproductive organs (e.g., hysterectomy), and genital reconstruction surgery (e.g., vaginoplasty or phalloplasty/metoidioplasty). Some trans people receive gender-affirming care as a part of their transition, but not all do. For trans men who make the decision to keep their natal reproductive organs (organs they were born with), they may possess the ability to conceive and carry a child. While trans men who take testosterone may no longer have menstrual cycles, testosterone is not a contraceptive, and it is still possible to become pregnant (Thornton, et al). Previous usage of testosterone has not been shown to have a negative impact on the individual’s pregnancy or birth (Trans Hub), and common complication rates of disorders such as preeclampsia and gestational diabetes have been comparable to cis female pregnancies (Obedin-Maliver and Makadon). However, if continuing with a pregnancy, testosterone cannot be used as it can have unhealthy impacts on fetal development (Thornton, et al).
How does cis pregnancy culture affect trans men and nonbinary people? Trans men who have the desire and ability to become pregnant often face exclusion from the medical and parenting community (Obedin-Maliver and Makadon). Due to the social norms of cis women being the only people who can go through pregnancy, trans men and nonbinary people may feel singled out or even face discrimination. From “women’s health” clinics needed for obstetric care and the gendered language surrounding the topic of pregnancy, going through a pregnancy as a trans/non-binary individual can be dysphoric and upsetting, and they are most often misgendered repeatedly in medical and social settings. This can put a strain on the person’s mental health, and without proper care during and after pregnancy, it can also increase the risk of post-partum depression. There are also legal barriers associated with trans and nonbinary pregnancies. Even if a trans man has male gender markers on his identification documents, most places will refuse to list him as the “father” on the birth certificate if he is the one giving birth, even though this will likely cause more confusion down the line with the child’s documentation. This is an additional challenge for non-binary parents, as most places do not have the option to register as “parent” on the birth certificate as opposed to “mother” or “father.” Few resources on the legality of gender markers on parentage for birth certificates can be found online (most of it appears to be based on those trying to have their gender marker changed on their own birth certificate rather than trans and nonbinary parents having children), and as of 2021, it appears that Wisconsin is presumably the only U.S. state to allow a gender-neutral marker for a parent on a birth certificate (Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction).
What can trans men and nonbinary parents do for their own reproductive health and pregnancy? First, if there is a desire to become pregnant, trans men and nonbinary patients can meet with their healthcare provider to discuss possible options. This may include stopping hormone replacement therapy and finding or getting support systems into place (such as Facebook support groups). It could also include the preservation of eggs to use in the future if they are not wanting to carry a child or are wanting gender-affirming care/surgery that may disrupt the ability to have a child (Obedin-Maliver and Makadon). Parents or parents-to-be can share their preferred name, gender, pronouns, and even preferred names for body parts with their healthcare provider (Trans Hub). Some of these preferred gender-neutral names for different body parts or organs that may need to be discussed could include chest/chestfeeding (as opposed to breast) or front hole (as opposed to vagina) (Trans Hub). A source with a list of some of these options is included at the end. The usage of a doula or midwife during pregnancy could be a possible option for some parents. A doula/midwife is someone who would be able to help ask and maintain the usage of preferred or gender-neutral language in medical settings and can also accompany the pregnant person to appointments to provide support (Trans Hub). Trans/non-binary parents can also discuss preferred birthing methods, such as opting for a c-section as opposed to a vaginal/front-hole birth (Trans Hub). Having a vaginal birth could be disrupting or dysphoric for a trans or non-binary parent and having a c-section may be a preferred route for some. Lastly, it’s important to discuss post-partum care and plans with a healthcare provider. This could include plans to breastfeed/chestfeed and how to bind safely to resuming hormone replacement therapy after birth (Trans Hub). As a side note, breast tissue is breast tissue regardless of whether someone was AFAB or AMAB, and it is possible for some trans women to breastfeed/chestfeed as well, which can be discussed with their healthcare provider (Trans Hub).
How can reproductive and pregnancy care be more inclusive and less cis-centered? Educators and all medical staff (including any staff a patient would meet, such as a receptionist) should incorporate and include inclusion and diversity policies in their healthcare settings to make all patients feel more comfortable and recognized (Trans Hub’s “10 Trans Questions to Ask a Doctor,” located in resources). Doctors and staff should consider how inclusive their settings are for anyone experiencing a pregnancy (or anyone seeking healthcare period). Do they have more options than “Male” or “Female” on patient information forms? Do they use inclusive language on pamphlets they give out on pregnancy health? Are doctors and nurses advocating for their patients? Are they honest about their inexperience or limited knowledge of trans and non-binary pregnancies, and are they educating themselves rather than relying on their patients to explain it to them? These are all questions anyone participating in a reproductive health care setting should ask themselves. Healthcare providers treating trans and non-binary patients should not make presumptions about their sexual statuses or reproductive goals and should include the option of fertility/pregnancy discussions with their patients (Thornton, et al).
How is cis pregnancy culture harmful to cis parents as well? The adverse effects of cis pregnancy culture are not limited to trans and non-binary parents, but to cis men and women as well. The idea that cis mothers must be kind and maternal is harmful and places pressure on women for wanting to go back to work after having children. The social beauty and health norms surrounding cis women judge pregnant women for gaining weight or having stretch marks, and pregnancy ads and pamphlets often focus on slim, beautiful, and able cis women, which places shame on cis mothers who gain weight, are lower class, who maybe don’t meet society’s social norms, or women who are disabled or are living with any type of condition. This cis-pregnancy culture also does little to acknowledge post-partum depression, which about 1 in 7 (presumably cis) women experience (Mughal, et al). In these negative societal norms, fathers can be thought of as being at work all the time, being without emotion, and being disinterested in their children. This is extremely harmful, as many dads take paternity leave (which isn’t even available in some places) or stay at home with their children, and the idea that cis fathers cannot show emotion or aren’t as involved in their children’s lives is rooted in toxic masculinity.
Overall, cis pregnancy culture affects both trans and nonbinary patients as well as cis patients. There are resources for inclusivity and support for LGBTQIA+ parents struggling with being excluded and everyone must realize that 1) being pregnant does not equal being a cis woman and 2) trans pregnancies happen and the cis pregnancy culture we have and the norms we uphold are damaging and excluding and must be addressed.
Historically, trans representation in film has been problematic. The first movies that represented trans women are primarily portrayed them as cross-dressing men in comedic fashions. They’re viewed as something to be mocked by an audience, but being a joke in media was far from the reality trans women faced outside the camera lens. Today, trans people, especially trans women, still endure the most extreme forms of discrimination and hate crime violence. It wasn’t even until the late 1970’s when you couldn’t be arrested for cross-dressing. Although there have been large strides towards a more accurate representation of trans women in film, there’s still a lot to critique on. For instance, movies that cover stories about trans people but solely casts cisgendered actors to play the roles perpetuates the narrative that trans people are just dressing up. Another common issue are character tropes that depict trans people as mentally ill, tragically sad, or dead, which erases the complex lives they individually live. It wasn’t until shows like Orange is the New Black where Laverne Cox’s character became a pivotal point in trans representation in film. However, despite the growth of trans women in mainstream media, trans men have been either continually left out or severely underrepresented. Additionally, trans women greatly outnumber trans men in all forms of media representation. Here, I’ll critique two films that portray transmasculine characters in concerning ways and then give my personal insight on why I think invisibility of trans men in Hollywood exists to the extent it does.
One example worth looking at is the character Max in The “L” Word. Max (played by Daniel Sea) is a trans man in the show who develops into a monstrous person after taking testosterone hormones. Throughout the show, he becomes more aggressive and possessive, and his character slowly becomes more ostracized by the other characters. This depiction of Max’s character perpetuates negative stereotypes about trans men who take testosterone. Additionally, much of the dialogue exposes the transphobic undertone that mimics how some view trans people in real life. For instance, trans men are often viewed as “traitors” to women and feminist movements, while trans women are often viewed as not real women at all. This is especially common in the lesbian and feminist communities, hence the label TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist).
Another important movie to discuss that portrays a trans man is Boys Don’t Cry, a tragic true story about a trans man named Brandon Teena (played by Hillary Swank) who’s violently murdered for being trans. This movie is argued as being the first (and only) mainstream film that accurately portrays a trans man. The movie itself is emotionally powerful, but again, the movie is worth criticizing. On one hand, it exposed the grim reality faced by trans people which made the audience view Brandon as a victim but also a hero. However, on the other side of that, those who identified as trans and watched the movie viewed it as a warning sign for what could happen if they came out to the world. Plus, the fact that the trans man was played by a cisgendered woman demonstrates that the movie was made by and for the hearts of cisgendered people rather than the trans community.
A reason why I think trans men have such little representation on the big screen is because of antifemininity. In masculinity studies, antifemininity is understood as something that perpetuates masculine stereotypes. For most men, they are socially rejected and often punished by their peers or families for acting in feminine ways, creating a lot of animosity towards women as they get older. In contrast to that, women are usually encouraged to reject their femininity for masculinity, which perpetuates this idea that femininity is intuitively less than masculinity. So, a reason antifemininity can play a role in trans representation is because men who dress, act, or identify as a woman are more intriguing for outsiders to view because it’s so taboo. Trans women thus become an object of interest; someone who you’re intrigued by as a viewer because how could anyone want to be feminine? Therefore, invisibility of trans men in media could be argued that it’s due to lack of interest because it makes sense why a woman would rather be a man. We see this example played out in another movie called Just One of the Guys where the main character Terry decides to dress like a man because she’s being discriminated against as a woman. This narrative thus uses transmasculine archetypes as a metaphor for feminism rather than a real experience as a trans man.
I think it’s vitally important to acknowledge how trans men are being misrepresented in film. Although we are making great strides towards trans inclusiveness, there’s still a population that’s being overlooked. Not only does this affect trans men but it also affects non-binary people as well. So, when examining LGBTQ+ representation in media, we need to be critiquing just how diverse that representation is.
Movies Shown in Picture:
Victor/Victoria
Yentl
Just One of the Guys
Boys Don’t Cry
Grey’s Anatomy
The “L” Word: Generation Q
The “L” Word
Degrassi: The Next Generation
Work Cited:
Feder, S. (Director). (2020) Disclosure [Documentary]. Bow and Arrow Entertainment
We’re all aware of the various political and religious assaults on trans and gender non-conforming rights today from bathroom bills, medical discrimination, and sports participation, to assault on the rights of parents of trans children and continual accusations of corrupting or “converting” children. On the other hand, there is a much quieter movement where we see many Christian denominations (typically in Urban environments) embrace and affirm LGBTQ+ members and guests. Within the last few decades, there has been a significant increase in this acceptance, a stark contrast to the conversion therapy movement of the 1990s that continues in some circles today. The goal of this post is to investigate the history of gender non-conformity within Christianity and to specifically look at a few impactful and influential figures.
Disclaimer: While I don’t identify as Christian, I am a cisgender gay man from a conservative evangelical background. Most LGBTQ+ people have at least some working knowledge of or experience with the influence of these structures on our political landscape. With this in mind it wouldn’t be much of a challenge for me to simply recite the knowledge of oppression within evangelical Christianity nor would it be accurate for me to try to speak to the experiences of other queer people on a broader religious level.
This information isn’t supposed to be a “gotcha” to American evangelical Christians nor is it a biblical analysis deconstructing various passages. The deconstruction of passages is often a performative attempt to legitimize queer Christians in the eyes of their historical oppressors. It is common for cisgender white gay Christians in particular to use this tactic. An example of this occurred during the 2020 democratic primaries, where Pete Buttigieg attempted to use biblical passages to point out the hypocrisy within the republican party1. These tactics aren’t particularly effective, as the foundation of spirituality and religion is emotion and self-perceived experiential understanding.
Xenophobic social contagion is also a huge contributor to bigotry. The point of bringing this up is to say that simply calling out hypocrisy isn’t an effective change agent, and many evangelicals wouldn’t recognize these figures as part of their history (though there is some overlap with Catholicism). When looking at this history, however, we can gain insight into the erasure of gender nonconformity and perhaps see archival queer activism as a means to contextualize the lineage of queer experiences.
Spiritual beliefs such as those within Christianity have transcended the constructs of gender, sexuality, and culture. Denominations often emerge as a result of cultural wedge issues. When discussing this topic it is important to call out how much of a grey area it is. Our specific modern language around transgenderism doesn’t fully apply to these historical figures, but there is enough information to infer the presence of gender non-conformity on some level for each.
A concept I’ve always found interesting is that of sainthood within the church. While researching for this, I found a surprisingly large number of articles about this topic (though still had to dig quite a bit compared to the readily available information on other canonical saints). While many of these figures haven’t been “erased from history” per se, their gender identity or non-conformity is rarely included in their remembrance. A particular common thread woven into these stories is that of women assigned at birth working to pass as men. Again, we can’t do a one-to-one comparison as the efforts to appear as men could have been an effort to be afforded the same opportunities. At the same time, we shouldn’t speculate that this was their only motivation. The risk involved was significantly high and potentially fatal if they were discovered. Like today, many of these figures changed their pronouns to reflect their identity. Many also underwent significant physical and aesthetic changes seeking masculinization.
Saint Hilarion (pictured above), was assigned female at birth but later identified as male. He eventually lived a significant portion of his life in solitude as a monk. As a result, he was seen as one who acquired significant wisdom through the years he spent alone. He has several miracles attributed to him, such as curing women and children of diseases.
Marinos the Monk was also assigned female at birth with the name Marina. He lived out his life as a male monk and is celebrated by both the Episcopal and Catholic Church yearly in June. He believed his soul was at risk if he didn’t fulfill his vision of joining a male monastery. He is also known as an early example of a transgender parent, raising a son who is said to have only seen his father as a father3.
While not considered to be a saint, possibly the most interesting gender-nonconforming religious figure is a prophet named the Public Universal Friend, a singular person who changed their name given at birth. They are considered to have been an influential religious figure during the American revolution. Many writers use both male and female pronouns, though “The Friend” saw themself as neither male nor female. This perhaps indicates a non-binary or possibly bi-gender, identity (Taken from the book “The Public Universal Friend” Introduction). The Friend had a large and dedicated following, including close disciples who used he/him pronouns to describe their leader who was assigned female at birth4.
While this clearly isn’t a comprehensive or exhaustive list of gender-nonconforming early Christian figures, this information is nevertheless intriguing. Much has been excluded or glossed over by historians as well as influential religious voices. The nuance of history is easy to ignore, especially confirmation bias relates relates to upholding norms considered to be objective (like gender). On the flipside, it’s also easy to ignore the nuance within Christian beliefs, especially those held by trans people. Many who identify this way have religious trauma but have chosen to hold on to their foundational belief in God, or something bigger than themselves in a general sense. This is one of many ways that trans and gender nonconforming people have reclaimed what is rightfully theirs: the freedom to choose their beliefs and to be themselves within their chosen community.
While I don’t do much portraiture, Jess Dugan has been one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to photography. That’s why for my archival project, I decided to do something inspired by “To Survive on this Shore” as I’ve wanted to do for years, but have been uncertain how to approach it. Firstly, I was unsure of what people or community close to me that I would photograph. Secondly, many of the communities that would work for me doing this project were those I interact with more online. In those communities there’s a variety of different people with different experiences. I then had the idea that I could do a series of photographs in a virtual setting, with multiple groups of trans and queer people I interact with on a regular basis. With that inspiration, I chose three groups of people that were close to me and were more than happy to help. I was able to get my Destiny 2 clan, one of my online friend groups, and then my sister.
This first set of photos are of various members of the Destiny 2 clan I’m a part of, the Gaylord Bros. I’ve been a part of this clan for over a year now, and they’re one of the few mostly queer groups on the internet I’m in that are still active. I was aiming to both capture the feel of community I’ve got, but additionally wanted to assist my friends in being depicted how they wanted to be in a digital setting.
This second set of photos is of one of my groups of online friends on Ponytown, which is a social game themed off of My Little Pony. These people are some people I know both in the real world, but also people I’ve only interacted with online. While not lending itself as well to more traditional looking photography, I think it was still worth doing, as I wouldn’t have been able to depict these friends in other environments all together easily.
The last set is the nearest and dearest to me. My sister is also trans like me, and doesn’t like photos being taken of her. However, she was willing to do photos in Team Fortress 2, which we’ve been playing together for years. To me, situations like this are why I feel it’s important to show people where they’re most comfortable, even if it isn’t in a physical space. Outside of my sister, I have many other friends who are out to varying degrees and don’t want traditional photos taken of them. I hope to be able to do more work like this in the future so people can be seen as themselves no matter the setting.
Trans Studies Archive 