After being heckled by a 14 year old ("It's a hermaphrodite", which I surprisingly have not heard before), I thought I'd just feel lonesome and a bit disempowered. But there has been a surge of 'butch' media in lesbian cyber space, and the feeling was a little different. In the past week, Autostraddle ran this:
http://www.autostraddle.com/butch-please-butch-buys-a-drink-149798/
Which I quite empathised with, and then there was this too:
http://www.afterellen.com/content/2012/11/casey-legler-our-new-favorite-woman-working-male-model
As well as another one about African American butches in another online publications (ok, I lost that link).
And I know like it's not just me out there fucking with gender, so I didn't feel lonely like I usually do. But that's a double edged sword too, because in this regional high school four hours from my cosmopolitan lifestyle, my edgy butches comrades seemed as far away from me as . But I still had the knowledge that they might feel the things I do and, perhaps, they elicit the same reactions from people that I have. Sure, they do it elsewhere (on another continent, actually). But just like I was alone in the school that day, there is a butch somewhere bracing herself to go to a public bathroom. Or considering her clothing choice for that day and what that will mean for how her friends/strangers/colleagues will read her. Or some baby butch buying clothes from the menswear section for the first time.
So as I moved past lonesomeness I found a surprising roaring fire of rage. I was really pissed at this kid (and the one day before, and the one on the weekend), and pissed for other women in my shoes. The OUTRAGE was kind of liberating. And even if we're separated by distance and politeness (I wasn't going to start chatting to the cop in the street), we have a common bond. And just knowing that, not even acting on it, well, that's pretty powerful.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Friday, September 21, 2012
Hair cut
I keep my hair short, and always have. But I just got it cut shorter still. Parts of it are clippered and it looks awesome and feels amazing. I can't work out what it is about a fresh, sharp haircut that makes me feel like million bucks, but it does.
It's term break here, so I won't be back in school for another two weeks, but I'll still be looking sharp. To me. Perhaps not to others. It's weird that (apart from seeing the odd dyke in the street) I'm the only one who loves this look. And even though my family might not love it and kids will be weird, there is something so affirming about the clean lines on my head.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
No To Homophobia
I'm pretty impressed with my home town, today. Some pretty solid community groups, with government support, launched a national TV campaign against homophobia yesterday. I really like the ads - they are ultimately targeted at non queer folk and their complicity in homophobia, which is a necessary shift, I think. There is an argument that these ads promote the GLBT community as 'victims', but homophobia is not a victimless crime.
I also like that it's not trying to say lesbians and gay men blend in and you might not know someone is gay. The dykes in the ad look like dykes and they're treated badly because of it. I, of course, love that they have a woman being singled out for bring butch. It's actually validating to see it on TV, even though it's a 'negative' ad.
I have no doubt it will polarise some, but you can make up your own mind:
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Hiatus
Work. I have limited excuses beyond working as to my silence.
And in that work, I again find myself confusing teenagers and now even my boss. Well, he knows I'm female (and a dyke), but I ended up in a class with him where kids were asking if I was a boy or a girl. I handled it with my usual smooth skills (hold your breath for that post) but it was interesting thinking about it later. My boss is a nice guy, no dramas there. But normally, if a conflict like that arose about anything else, he'd want to talk about it.
Not this. How would he raise it?
'Do you know the students thought you were a man?' or perhaps
'How do you think your haircut affects your work?' (not a good idea, HR doesn't like that kinda talk)
'How do you feel about your gender presentation at work?'. Nope.
Even the most politically correct boss isn't going to find a good way to mention gender presentation with 'clients', even if it's just to see how you feel about it. Of course, I could have raised it, but I have no clear answers to give and he's not going to someone who will have them. So it would have been me exposing my lack of clarity and him feeling like he should help but being a bit out of his depth.
We've never spoken of it. And of all the dilemmas for a butch looking dyke in education, this is a pretty mild problem. Just not one with an answer.
And in that work, I again find myself confusing teenagers and now even my boss. Well, he knows I'm female (and a dyke), but I ended up in a class with him where kids were asking if I was a boy or a girl. I handled it with my usual smooth skills (hold your breath for that post) but it was interesting thinking about it later. My boss is a nice guy, no dramas there. But normally, if a conflict like that arose about anything else, he'd want to talk about it.
Not this. How would he raise it?
'Do you know the students thought you were a man?' or perhaps
'How do you think your haircut affects your work?' (not a good idea, HR doesn't like that kinda talk)
'How do you feel about your gender presentation at work?'. Nope.
Even the most politically correct boss isn't going to find a good way to mention gender presentation with 'clients', even if it's just to see how you feel about it. Of course, I could have raised it, but I have no clear answers to give and he's not going to someone who will have them. So it would have been me exposing my lack of clarity and him feeling like he should help but being a bit out of his depth.
We've never spoken of it. And of all the dilemmas for a butch looking dyke in education, this is a pretty mild problem. Just not one with an answer.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Winter
I know, everyone in the northern hemisphere is all sweating and summery. Well, except for the British, but I don't think they have summer.
But here, it's cold. Icy in the morning, grey during the day, miserable at night kind of cold. There are some perks though. The fashion, for one. What's not to love about a good coat? Or a cosy jumper (sweater for the Americans). Wandering the streets it's all black and slate grey with the occasional dapper looking scarf. I can't help but feel people look classier in winter. Maybe I feel too much flesh looks trashy, but sometimes it does. Not such worry in winter -all those layers and even skinny jeans get covered in a coat and a good pair of boots.
And while these wonderful bundles of fabric keep me warm, there is an unintended side affect. I inadvertently pass a lot more in winter. No tell tale curves, lots of dark colours, limited gender cues and I think I just speak less in the cold. And in the back of a classroom, when I'm all rugged up and trying to stealthily observe someone else teach, all the kids can see is a big coat and short hair and they wonder who that guy is in the back row. Public toilets become more of a battleground and I find myself paying in cash, to avoid pulling out a credit card and having to manage the confusion of having SUCH A GIRLY NAME (thanks mum).
Welcome to winter.
But here, it's cold. Icy in the morning, grey during the day, miserable at night kind of cold. There are some perks though. The fashion, for one. What's not to love about a good coat? Or a cosy jumper (sweater for the Americans). Wandering the streets it's all black and slate grey with the occasional dapper looking scarf. I can't help but feel people look classier in winter. Maybe I feel too much flesh looks trashy, but sometimes it does. Not such worry in winter -all those layers and even skinny jeans get covered in a coat and a good pair of boots.
And while these wonderful bundles of fabric keep me warm, there is an unintended side affect. I inadvertently pass a lot more in winter. No tell tale curves, lots of dark colours, limited gender cues and I think I just speak less in the cold. And in the back of a classroom, when I'm all rugged up and trying to stealthily observe someone else teach, all the kids can see is a big coat and short hair and they wonder who that guy is in the back row. Public toilets become more of a battleground and I find myself paying in cash, to avoid pulling out a credit card and having to manage the confusion of having SUCH A GIRLY NAME (thanks mum).
Welcome to winter.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Compliments in the strangest places
Working with someone new, who seems like a nice enough guy. On the way to lunch, out of nowhere, the following occurs:
Colleague: Have you read any of Alison Bechdel's work?
Me: (stunned) Um, yeah..?
C: You look like her.
M: Really? (I can't refuse a well placed compliment, even though being a lean short haired dyke with glasses doesn't make me as good looking as she is).
C: Yes. Have you read her work?
M: Um, yeah. I liked her last graphic novel... Have you read her stuff?
C: Oh yes! I loved 'Fun Home'. It was...
He proceeded to wax lyrical about 'Fun Home' and we spend the rest of the day talking about it and other books. A couple of days later we ended up at a comic book store where I bought (political) graphic novels under his guidance. Turns out he loves the genre (I have really only read Bechdel's work and some of the Maus series) - and his enthusiasm was contagious.
What I loved was that he compared me to a intelligent (butch?) dyke who he knew and respected. It wasn't one of those weird "I like The Ellen Show so I am ok with lesbians" conversations. It was about common ground and it wasn't straight common ground. It was dyke territory. And I'm so nice when people are on my turf.
Ok, so I admit it. I am totally susceptible to flattery. So sue me.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Travel
There has been a break in blogging due to travel. Admittedly, I went to the USA where they have the internet, but I was also working so didn't get a chance to come back to this corner of the web.
I was a little tentative about my journey, mainly due to both US and Australian security who generally make getting onto a plane more stressful that it already is (21 hours in transit is no picnic). However, I got off lightly. Only once was I frisked and even though a few people got pronouns confused, it didn't cause me to be scrutinised and analysed and generally held up. Even those creepy scanners were fine, as was the retina and fingerprinting at US customs (really, you need all that?).
Suffice to say I arrived in all destinations safe and sound and even in travelling round, gender was not a big deal. Sure, I was in a major US city, but I still thought there might be tangles. However, the less I freaked out, the less others did. But when I was called sir I went with it, and if/when they corrected themselves I brushed it off. It's easier to be self contained away from home, and much easier to be carefree with others perceptions of you. Here I am with friends/colleagues/etc when gender confusion strikes, so I need to take other people into account, and what they think and feel. Maybe I'm saying travel can allow you to be selfish? Or maybe it's just about the ability to reinvent yourself.
I was a little tentative about my journey, mainly due to both US and Australian security who generally make getting onto a plane more stressful that it already is (21 hours in transit is no picnic). However, I got off lightly. Only once was I frisked and even though a few people got pronouns confused, it didn't cause me to be scrutinised and analysed and generally held up. Even those creepy scanners were fine, as was the retina and fingerprinting at US customs (really, you need all that?).
Suffice to say I arrived in all destinations safe and sound and even in travelling round, gender was not a big deal. Sure, I was in a major US city, but I still thought there might be tangles. However, the less I freaked out, the less others did. But when I was called sir I went with it, and if/when they corrected themselves I brushed it off. It's easier to be self contained away from home, and much easier to be carefree with others perceptions of you. Here I am with friends/colleagues/etc when gender confusion strikes, so I need to take other people into account, and what they think and feel. Maybe I'm saying travel can allow you to be selfish? Or maybe it's just about the ability to reinvent yourself.
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