A couple of weeks ago I decided to start attending a different trans group - one for "adults" instead of "youth". In the youth group, there were others who were around my same age and who I related to extremely well. Yet, my age was up at the tip of the elderly ice berg. Even though I related to others in their 20s, there were other participants who were just little boppers in high school, with experiences that differ a great deal from mine.
And I'm a big boy now. Moving from diapers to underroos', into an entirely new world of canes and dentures, back problems and aching bones.
And, with that, I decided to pack up shop and frolic over to the adult group. Well, as fast as an elder can frolic, that is. More like hobbled. This wasn't easy, not just from the slow pace of hobbling, but also due to what feels like a huge generational gap between the experiences trans youth have today in contrast to what trans adults experienced 20, 30+ years ago. Simply put, it's as though they come from a frame of reference from a cultural milieu that is now a decade or two removed from this profoundly changed time.
I've only recently experienced bits and pieces of this gap, where anything dominated by older trans individuals has zero youth presence and vice versa; both riddled with stereotypes and complicated intergenerational communication.
Just to clarify, I don't believe that adults or youth represent a homogeneous collective (for example, there are trans 'youth' who haven't had access to resources like the Internet due to geographic, economic, and/or technological isolation and there are trans 'adults' who aren't hip to the binary gender groove and entirely receptive), but it is clear that there's a whole buttload of division going on, and I'm right smack on a cusp. Not to mention that saying "youth" and "adult" is a lot more flattering than "younger" and "elder".
It's as though change has been so frickin' swift and broad that existing trans cultural systems couldn't absorb it. Whereas my generation and current generations grew up with the Internet, where we could connect with oodles of resources, information, and support - most of today's trans adults didn't. Or growing up with multiple avenues of interpersonal contact - cell phones, instant messaging, email ... or, on the other side of the coin, my generation didn't grow up through the era of the Vietnam War, the HIV/AIDs epidemic, or through social movements like the shifting attitudes about women's place in the world.
I mean, only 30 years ago the American medical and psychological establishments decided that homosexuality was not a mental illness. Less than 35 years ago the modern "gay rights" movement was inaugurated at Stonewall. Most of today's trans adults can recall feeling that they were the "only one" and feared complete rejection by their families, friends, and associates should their identity become known.
Or witnessing attacks not just from society in general, but even from those in the gay and lesbian community, like how in 1975 New York TransActivist Silvia Rivera was followed at a Gay Pride Rally by Jean O’Leary who denounced transgendered people as female impersonators profiting from derision and oppression of women.
Change has happened really fast. Just in 1992, when I was 10 years old, Jean Burkholter was ejected from the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival by transphobic festival organizers (which I remember secretly reading about when I was 13 years old, and then about the corresponding "Camp Trans" protest). In 1993, "March On Washington" organizers included bisexuals but refused to include TransGender in the name of the march, upsetting TG activists that had worked hard for inclusion.
And despite what I've experienced (just in 1996, in order to block GSAs in Utah, Salt Lake City became the first school district in the country to take the drastic step of banning all student clubs not related to the curriculum - we had to meet in teacher-sponsored classrooms after school, but met nonetheless), there are now a slew of GSAs all over the nation and the groundwork my LGBT elders set.
There are openly gay politicians and civil unions; trans activism galore; debates about same-sex marriage (no one even talked about this 20 years ago, and nowadays it's a key theme in political discussions at both local and national levels), - and, most importantly, a plethora of websites and social groups aimed specifically at trans people. Plus, growing numbers of LGBT youth actually find their families and friends supportive rather than rejecting, like mine. And our communities, too. Hence the more upbeat, positive dynamic I've experienced in the youth activist/support groups and events vs. the adult ones.
Because of all of this change, trans youth in the 2000s get to acknowledge and embrace our trans identities more quickly and depend on each other, rather than the medical profession, for support and validation, like older trans people frequently had to (if that, even. Many were completely hidden, even to their loved ones - like transgendered man Billy Tipton who died in 1989 and was 'outed' by the coroner. He lived fifty-six years as a man, not telling even his wife and kids.)
Anyhoo, there IS a generalized disconnect. And it seems to be compounded further by the very nature of our community, where the contact between generations isn't intrinsic (which is different in most other communities that face oppression by virtue of their members' identity - e.g. racial, ethnic, religious, etc.)
Instead, contact has to actually be arranged somehow with the explicit intent of creating cross-generational interaction, otherwise the temptation to continually segregate is difficult to resist. It's this self-sustaining, lack-of-interaction web maintained by these stereotypes that each group seemingly has about the other - where older trans people often see youth as too radical, and trans youth often regard our elders as out of touch.
Point being, because of the radical discrepancy between the lives of trans people today and that of our elders when they were young - and some interactions I've had and witnessed thus far - I'd become a bit reluctant about attending the group with ages ranging in the 30s-70s+. I feared that I'd be entirely misunderstood, seen as illegitimate, have my perspectives dismissed, or just be entirely unable to connect.
Fortunately, the above concerns were almost entirely myth, because I learned that yes, there is that intergenerational communication gap, but more importantly, it was a very accepting, tolerant, and receptive environment. And it will only get better the longer I keep hobbling in.
I think the most difficult aspect was in realizing just how difficult it was for a lot of older trans individuals growing up. Being isolated, harassed. Not coming out until their 40s, 50s, or later. Being rejected by their families and even the LGB community. Living most of their lives hiding who they are, even from those closest to them.
The tone of the group was a lot more fearful and solemn than the youth group. Yet, there were some individuals that, despite growing up in a very different day + age and coming out much later, had learned to own who they are and to feel entirely confident and wonderful about it and also excited to include other types of trans people.
Anyway, change is exciting. Throughout my teenage Internet explorations of the 90s, "transgender" always just seemed to be shorthand for "transsexual". And nowadays it's increasingly recognized as an umbrella term that includes a myriad of genderqueer, and other gender-diverse, identities.
Which, I reckon, is making it a bit more difficult every day for society to foster and enforce a male/female gender dichotomy. Oh the riveting woe.
And I'm a big boy now. Moving from diapers to underroos', into an entirely new world of canes and dentures, back problems and aching bones.
And, with that, I decided to pack up shop and frolic over to the adult group. Well, as fast as an elder can frolic, that is. More like hobbled. This wasn't easy, not just from the slow pace of hobbling, but also due to what feels like a huge generational gap between the experiences trans youth have today in contrast to what trans adults experienced 20, 30+ years ago. Simply put, it's as though they come from a frame of reference from a cultural milieu that is now a decade or two removed from this profoundly changed time.
I've only recently experienced bits and pieces of this gap, where anything dominated by older trans individuals has zero youth presence and vice versa; both riddled with stereotypes and complicated intergenerational communication.
Just to clarify, I don't believe that adults or youth represent a homogeneous collective (for example, there are trans 'youth' who haven't had access to resources like the Internet due to geographic, economic, and/or technological isolation and there are trans 'adults' who aren't hip to the binary gender groove and entirely receptive), but it is clear that there's a whole buttload of division going on, and I'm right smack on a cusp. Not to mention that saying "youth" and "adult" is a lot more flattering than "younger" and "elder".
It's as though change has been so frickin' swift and broad that existing trans cultural systems couldn't absorb it. Whereas my generation and current generations grew up with the Internet, where we could connect with oodles of resources, information, and support - most of today's trans adults didn't. Or growing up with multiple avenues of interpersonal contact - cell phones, instant messaging, email ... or, on the other side of the coin, my generation didn't grow up through the era of the Vietnam War, the HIV/AIDs epidemic, or through social movements like the shifting attitudes about women's place in the world.
I mean, only 30 years ago the American medical and psychological establishments decided that homosexuality was not a mental illness. Less than 35 years ago the modern "gay rights" movement was inaugurated at Stonewall. Most of today's trans adults can recall feeling that they were the "only one" and feared complete rejection by their families, friends, and associates should their identity become known.
Or witnessing attacks not just from society in general, but even from those in the gay and lesbian community, like how in 1975 New York TransActivist Silvia Rivera was followed at a Gay Pride Rally by Jean O’Leary who denounced transgendered people as female impersonators profiting from derision and oppression of women.
Change has happened really fast. Just in 1992, when I was 10 years old, Jean Burkholter was ejected from the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival by transphobic festival organizers (which I remember secretly reading about when I was 13 years old, and then about the corresponding "Camp Trans" protest). In 1993, "March On Washington" organizers included bisexuals but refused to include TransGender in the name of the march, upsetting TG activists that had worked hard for inclusion.
And despite what I've experienced (just in 1996, in order to block GSAs in Utah, Salt Lake City became the first school district in the country to take the drastic step of banning all student clubs not related to the curriculum - we had to meet in teacher-sponsored classrooms after school, but met nonetheless), there are now a slew of GSAs all over the nation and the groundwork my LGBT elders set.
There are openly gay politicians and civil unions; trans activism galore; debates about same-sex marriage (no one even talked about this 20 years ago, and nowadays it's a key theme in political discussions at both local and national levels), - and, most importantly, a plethora of websites and social groups aimed specifically at trans people. Plus, growing numbers of LGBT youth actually find their families and friends supportive rather than rejecting, like mine. And our communities, too. Hence the more upbeat, positive dynamic I've experienced in the youth activist/support groups and events vs. the adult ones.
Because of all of this change, trans youth in the 2000s get to acknowledge and embrace our trans identities more quickly and depend on each other, rather than the medical profession, for support and validation, like older trans people frequently had to (if that, even. Many were completely hidden, even to their loved ones - like transgendered man Billy Tipton who died in 1989 and was 'outed' by the coroner. He lived fifty-six years as a man, not telling even his wife and kids.)Anyhoo, there IS a generalized disconnect. And it seems to be compounded further by the very nature of our community, where the contact between generations isn't intrinsic (which is different in most other communities that face oppression by virtue of their members' identity - e.g. racial, ethnic, religious, etc.)
Instead, contact has to actually be arranged somehow with the explicit intent of creating cross-generational interaction, otherwise the temptation to continually segregate is difficult to resist. It's this self-sustaining, lack-of-interaction web maintained by these stereotypes that each group seemingly has about the other - where older trans people often see youth as too radical, and trans youth often regard our elders as out of touch.
Point being, because of the radical discrepancy between the lives of trans people today and that of our elders when they were young - and some interactions I've had and witnessed thus far - I'd become a bit reluctant about attending the group with ages ranging in the 30s-70s+. I feared that I'd be entirely misunderstood, seen as illegitimate, have my perspectives dismissed, or just be entirely unable to connect.
Fortunately, the above concerns were almost entirely myth, because I learned that yes, there is that intergenerational communication gap, but more importantly, it was a very accepting, tolerant, and receptive environment. And it will only get better the longer I keep hobbling in.
I think the most difficult aspect was in realizing just how difficult it was for a lot of older trans individuals growing up. Being isolated, harassed. Not coming out until their 40s, 50s, or later. Being rejected by their families and even the LGB community. Living most of their lives hiding who they are, even from those closest to them.
The tone of the group was a lot more fearful and solemn than the youth group. Yet, there were some individuals that, despite growing up in a very different day + age and coming out much later, had learned to own who they are and to feel entirely confident and wonderful about it and also excited to include other types of trans people.
Anyway, change is exciting. Throughout my teenage Internet explorations of the 90s, "transgender" always just seemed to be shorthand for "transsexual". And nowadays it's increasingly recognized as an umbrella term that includes a myriad of genderqueer, and other gender-diverse, identities.
Which, I reckon, is making it a bit more difficult every day for society to foster and enforce a male/female gender dichotomy. Oh the riveting woe.
I had forgotten about Women Fest thing. I remember reading it in the local gay rag but you brought it to my attention how not to many yrs ago transgender wasn't even seen as a "okay thing" by even many GLB groups. I think it's a great thing you are doing moving to the adult group. You can pave the way for some of the younger ones because you know some of their fears and anxietys.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting how pervasive the lack of intergenerational dialogue is - a friend of mine did an ethnographic project at the LGBTQ center on Halsted St. here in Chicago, and she told nearly the exact same story.
ReplyDeleteMonkey Outlaw: Isn't it astounding, how much has changed? Obviously there's still a long, long way to go - but I'm fortunate that things like that happened and people before my time fought the good fight. :]
ReplyDeleteraedances: I think it's the most pervasive throughout the LGBQT community. Probably due, for the most part, to that non-inherited disconnect, like not being the same race as one's parents, or raised with a particular religion and surrounded by that community, etc. It's interesting and frustrating, fo' sho'.
ReplyDelete