Guessing Games, Street Shame

This entry is for the Hack Gender project I found online. Wish I could remember who I found it through, but my browsing history sadly doesn’t tell me that.

The other night, I was walking down the street in my midwestern hometown with some friends, both old and new. We were a group of four guys and a girl. Or, to paint a more explicit picture, four FtMs and a MtF, but why would that matter? We were just hanging out, in the “alternative” part of town, when a group of girls walks up to us to play the gender-guessing game.

What, you’ve never played this? Good for you!

For those of you who have not played, on either side, here are the rules- A group of ignorant idiots walks up to an individual or group of people with non-traditional gender presentation. Maybe they’re gay, like some hot butch dyke, or maybe they’re like me and a giant genderfucking transrocking individual. Then the group ignorant idiots proceeds to guess the gender(s) of the non-traditionally presented person(s), and usually in a very rude way. They will get up in your face, stare at your neck, demand you to turn around, take off your hat, and generally make themselves unwelcome.

They finally decided, “Girl, girl, girl, boy… I don’t know what the fuck you are!”

I was the lone boy. We all loved that he got them completely confused, but as we were standing there, listening to this, hearing them not question me, hearing how I passed like that felt great. And then I promptly felt like shit. Yes, I want to pass, but I should have spoken up, maybe added to their confusion, or at least told them that they could take their ignorance and shove it up their asses because we are damn proud of who we are. I should have broken their assumptions and said I am proud of my cunt, I don’t want a dick that I can’t strap on… or off. I should have spoken up, and I didn’t.

Part of it was safety. When I’m back in the midwest, I don’t speak up because I don’t feel safe enough to speak up. Except how can we ever change society if people like me don’t speak up?

We were standing there, and my friends tattoos were staring me in the face from his wrists- “If not me, then who?” and “If not now, then when?”

I passed. I fucking passed. In the last few weeks, I haven’t been feeling it. Despite the T, I have not been feeling like I’ve been passing, like my face is any different, like my voice is low enough, any of it. It was the ego boast I needed, and came right about when I needed it most. It felt amazing, and seeing my friend who has been on T a year shows me how much more I have to look forward to. My voice passed, my face passed, they had no questions about me, hell they weren’t even really playing the guessing game with me because they saw no need to. My friends though, weren’t all so lucky. They were labeled by other people, labels that were not theirs, placed onto them without their consent.

It was a moment for a celebration, but rather than use the confidence generated from passing to help stand up for my own thoughts and beliefs, I stood still and silent.

Yet, the next night I was hanging out in another group of fabulous queers and maybe the flirtations of a friend had paid off, or maybe it was the passing of the night before, but suddenly I had the confidence to talk to someone and dispel their ignorance. We talked about everything from violet wands to SSC (Safe, Sane, Consensual) and RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink). No, she wasn’t playing the hateful guessing game. Instead, we were in a long discussion where I was talking about BDSM to her; yes, I was talking to her. It was a clear line of information, but the main difference between her ignorance and the idiots of the night before was her willingness to learn. The night before we were approached, taunted, verbally poked and prodded to determine “what” we were, what kind of freaks were standing there. This night though, her mind was open and we were engaging together. The information flowed one way, but the communication was multidirectional.

She didn’t label me, and I didn’t assume she was stupid. That conversation, was consensual.