Gender Chameleon: Pronouns and the performance of gender
“Why do you have to make it so difficult for me? “
“You know my 9th grade teacher told me that ‘they’ is not singular? It’s just not good English.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
This is my daily life. These comments come from friends and strangers alike.
You see, I began using gender inclusive pronouns of they/them/theirs in 2015 yet today, in 2020, I’m still misgendered regularly and told “But you don’t look transgender!” and “It’s just too hard to get used to this pronoun thing.” Even people who lead diversity work have repeatedly misgendered me, even after being gently corrected. I can’t begin to tell you the personal anxiety caused from the newest version of my imposter syndrome: not being “gender queer enough”.
So why are pronouns important?
Beyond one’s name, a pronoun in most languages is an important indicator of one’s gender. Gender inclusive singual pronouns have been part of the English languge for many centuries. Many authors, even as far back as the foureenth century have used singular gender inclusive pronouns in their works. I use the term “gender inclusive” rather than “gender neutral” because my intention is not to neutralize gender, but to expand and complicate it.
I am, and always have been a gender rebel, one who refuses to let the binaries of gender impact who I am and more importantly how I choose to express myself. From fighting with my parents to let me learn the Indian classical dance form Bharatanatyam to wearing three-inch wedges to my doctoral graduation, I have always felt most myself when I am blurring external expectations of who I am and how I’m supposed show up. And yet, such rebellion comes at a cost. I can’t begin to tell you the number of nights I have spent overthinking interactions with friends and family, trying to make sense of if something I did or said made me ‘not enough’. Though misgendering me seems unconscious to them, I can assure you I notice it. And sometimes I’m just too exhausted to say anything. This is my self-preservation. As someone with multiple intersectional and historically marginalized identities, I’m used to many forms of internalized “-ism’s” showing up and that makes it even more complicated. Trying to figure out which marginalized, or even dominant aspect of my identity is causing this self-doubt and sleepless nights.
Pronouns, like names, are important indicators of who we are. When I first began using they/them, I did it as an act of advocacy for my students. I was working in an LGBT campus resource center and saw that many of my trans and gender queer students were having to face continuous experiences of being misgendered and misnamed, especially by faculty and university administrators. I figured, I could use both masculine (he/him) and gender inclusive (they/them) pronouns so that my peers and campus leaders could practice using these unfamiliar pronouns while also giving some grace if they screw up. In doing so, I unexpectedly saw that I felt more comfortable expanding my gender expression by wearing nail polish, long earrings and even dressing in more culturally feminine ways; things I have always done in my own home or with friends but never at work. Even as the director of a center, I had not realized how, as Kenji Yoshino would put it, I was “covering” my gender for most of my life. I remember years of hiding my gender queerness by intentionally removing these identifiers in parking lots and bathrooms before going to work or family events to uphold my own internalized binaries of gender.
As I began to broaden my gender presentation, I felt more in my skin and decided to use they/them full-time. I made quite a bit of grace for my peers and folks that misgendered me because I know change is hard but when people would continue to use he/him, even when I’m in the room and after repeated correction, it was painful. At first I tried to ignore it and felt silly for feeling such shame and pain for someone else’s misstep but then realized it’s because such misgendering brought up my own insecurities and demanded that I not apologize for someone else’s inability to see my genderqueerness. I even had a friend say, “if only you wore long earrings or something all the time, it would help me remember.” That one hurt. Requiring me to meet some invisible standard of gender-bending was still asking me to accommodate an external source for my own validation. Some days, most days, I don’t want to wear long earrings or heels. And that’s ok. Sometimes it’s because I don’t have the emotional energy for the the threat of physical harm or even just the awkward stares. While at other times it’s because I just don’t want to. My ability to be fluid with my gender, to be inconsistent, is my right.
I’m aware that I have the privilege of being a gender chameleon, choosing how I express my gender and how I am perceived. Many folks don’t have that choice. In some ways, I choose more feminine expressions because that makes me less threatening then being seen as a brown bearded terrorist. While at other times, I lean into my masculinity as a shield again homophobia and transphobia. This is the complexity of intersectionality, I am always having to make calculated guesses on how to present in ways where I can be authentic and safe while navigating the broader systemic restrictions on how I am perceived.
Even writing this piece has taken me over a year. I’ve been wanting to write it but the fear of naming my feelings in this way seems threatening to my relationships and cultural notions of gender that have been hard-wired into my being. I have spent days just staring at an empty document…wanting the courage to be me, speak my journey and name these experiences. Given the tumultuous world we are in and the hundreds of other injust socio-political happenings, I felt guilty about naming my need to be addressed by my pronouns. Then I realized that I cannot be a full human being and advocate for so many other issues if I’m not able to even share my own voice and journey.
I use they/them because it liberates me from the boxes of masculinity and femininity, challenges my internalized toxicity of masculinity and pushes me to be comfortable in the unknown space of being both/and. I’ve also just learned the pronoun “kin” as an option and I’m exploring it! Somedays, I like “he” but find myself struggling to deconsruct if that’s because I actually like that pronoun or if it just makes it easier for other and reduces my own pain of being constantly misgendered. Thankfully identity is a journey and not a set destination so I can continue to explore. We have the power to undo and rearrange our sense of self with every breath.
As with many forms of privilege, pronouns may seem trivial for those that hold culturally normative gender identities and expressions. For those of us in the borderlands, pronouns have the power to solidfy or shatter our sense of self.
Pronoun Resources:
https://www.glsen.org/sites/default/files/GLSEN%20Pronouns%20Resource.pdf
http://transstudent.org/graphics/pronouns101/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iKHjl5xAaA
