(edited 2.7.09 because i completely underestimated the reaction people would have to it, & did an injustice to the sensitivity of the topic in the way i wrote about it. i will, at some point, when i’m feeling less cranky about it, try again to explore the idea.)
(edited 2.19.09 because i respect Kate Bornstein too much to allow anything here, or anything I’ve written, to hurt her. I’m sorry, Kate, for having hurt your feelings.)
It’s yet another case where there is an experiential difference between those raised female and those who transition to female.
I think you might need just a few more data points. 🙂 I’ll let you know how I feel when I’m post-op. Somehow, I doubt that racecars or even plumbing and electricity are going to come to mind.
I.m not sure if its specifically objectification. We are asked “Does it work?” … we have to come up with something!
Whoa, Helen, can we talk out of context? My plumbing and electricity comment was made on national daytime television in 1988. I don’t think it’s fair to put my words from over 20 years ago into an equation that includes all “those who transition to female.” My goodness! It was a quip.
there is no theory, kate (& everyone else)! it was something she called out because it had come up two out of three books we’ve read so far… & in fact JFB’s comment was also made on national television.
we’re talking about all of that, about media messaging, about why trans women need to talk about their genitals *at all* when other women don’t have to, etc. etc.
i really should have added a third bullet: that both were jokes said by people in the national spotlight (& the hotseat of the time).
i *am* going to stick to my guns that my student was right to point it out if it bothered her, mostly because that’s the whole idea of teaching this stuff: to find some of the fault lines between trans / feminisms, exactly because there is still residual tension between these communities.
You’re sticking to your guns that the student was right to point it out?? What did she point out? She said she was “tired of hearing about vaginas described…” etc. Two occurrences, and she’s tired of it???
Aside from mine and Jenny’s, what *other* mechanistic descriptions of vaginas have you or your students (or any of your online readers here) heard from MTF trans people? Any other mechanistic descriptions of vaginas from me or Jenny except for those single instances? How was your student right to point out that she’s tired of MTFs talking mechanistically about vaginas when it’s only happened twice?!
In your original post, you say “that women born with vaginas may find those same metaphors objectifying.” How about post-op transwomen who find those same metaphors objectifying? How about post-op MTFs finding it objectifying whenever someone asks us how our vaginas work? That’s something I’m tired of. It’s happened more than twice.
It’s painfully obvious by the strike-through text (that anyone can read) that you’re sticking to your guns, Helen. And I sure don’t feel comfortable seeing myself in your crosshairs. Right, I’m hurt and I’m angry. This is what it reads like when I am.
I think it’s a perfectly good idea to explore, but I wonder just how many instances your student was talking about. As Kate asked, just two, in very specific circumstances? If so, your student would not be the first person to make a broad statement based on very little evidence. I deal with that all the time in a discussion forum where I participate. Then again, maybe she’s really heard more of what she’s objecting to. At this point, we don’t know. That would be my main question — just how well founded was her objection?
My experience with post-op friends so far is that they do not talk about their genitals, unless someone asks. Maybe I need more data points too.
Oh, doG, this is a sump. GGirls especially twenty something GGirls don’t have the cultural background to discuss the trans experience, especially in remarks that were probably made before they were born.
How do we relate to our genitalia? Cripes, that is one of the most loaded questions in our entire culture. The next time one of your students rises up on her feet to snap at you, gently remind her, that until the 1980’s her vagina was the property of her husband. That until Roe v. Wade the state had a complete right to intervene in what she did with it. In most states, the state still does.
If transwomen try to come up with a metaphor for the people created genitalia they have now, it will always be weak. There is no way to speak of this profound subject without upsetting someone.
Wow. Those same “GG’s” certainly have enough cultural background to not appreciate being condescended to by someone calling them girls.
Nowhere did Helen say anybody snapped at her. Nowhere did Helen say anyone became distraught, frantic, demanding, standing up militantly, argumentatively. I find it interesting that a person may think someone did, or said it that way. And I find it disappointing the degree to which people here and elsewhere will happily attack a student who is purposely trying to learn about trans stuff by taking an elective-something she didn’t have to take at all-and expressing an honest feeling about something she saw in rapid succession in two works that are often lifted as exemplars.
The answer to how we relate our genitalia–if someone even asks us–is to just be an adult and use plain english. I understand the context in which the electricity and plumbing thing originates; however, it has become a common enough analogy in trans circles, at least in my experience.
Yes, SavoyTruffle. Everyone should remember that Helen’s student is presumably not someone with a wide background of education on trans issues, trans lives, or trans use of language.
That’s why she took the course. To learn. Like anyone else in college takes a course.
My immediate reaction was similar to Kate’s. That two examples is hardly enough to constitute “often.” But in the context of the course reading, yes, it did seem like “often” to this student. And as a student, she’s *supposed* to ask questions, *supposed* to give her reactions to what she reads.
How else is she going to learn?
Donna
I’m kind of just blown away by this whole thing. Blown. Away.
Let me get this straight: A student in a class about transgender lives notices in two separate texts references to vagina’s using metaphors that made her uncomfortable. Helen mentions this because a) it’s interesting and b) worthy of thoughtful debate.
But that’s not what happens.
Instead people just lose their shit. Assumptions abound, feelings are hurt, many angry words exchanged, reputations impugned… cats and fucking dogs living together!
I genuinely do not understand why this has upset so many people.
Does anyone actually think that Helen posted this to fucking hurt someone’s feelings? Seriously? Does anyone think that this student’s opinion is fixed and immutable? Does anyone remember the point of school? To learn? To question? To examine?
Jeebus On A Stick, people.
I am beginning to think the issue here is not my student, but that people think I have come to some kind of theory about trans women’s language & their vaginas as a result of what she noticed.
But honestly I’m mostly feeling like I stepped on a landmine & I’m really not sure what the landmine consists of, or why, in fact, Kate or JFB should be as upset about this as they are.
Perhaps we need to back up a few steps & have that explained.
It’s your blog, Helen, and your post originally, but I feel like I’m getting lost in the shuffle here. I have not expressed anger. That’s because I’m not angry. My focus is on the student. I’m curious as to why “she was getting tired of hearing about vaginas” described in mechanistic terms after reading two examples.
OK, yes, I did focus on what you said as well. It’s totally legit to ask questions, but I do wonder whether these two data points provide enough evidence for broad conclusions.
I don’t doubt that there are experiential differences between cis women and trans women. There would have to be. And it might be interesting to discuss those differences.
On my sorry response in calling a twenty something a “girl”. It is an effect of my dealing with them on a daily basis and realizing the tremendous distance in everything that a twenty something has from a fifty something’s perspective. I don’t automatically give twenty year old males the title “man” in fact if anything they are more “boys” than their female counterparts are “girls”.
It was a slip of the fingers. Please forgive me.
RBF – I had the feeling it was something like that – their inexperience coming out as “girls” & not you trying to make them less than adult.
Veronique: I know everyone isn’t angry, & thank you for that.
If you look at it this way: my student saw it in 2/3 trans books she’s ever read, which is more than a data point, it’s a majority. Moreso, however, she is certainly aware that the two authors in question are well-respected and maybe even authorities viz trans issues nationally, if not internationally.
I will be honest & say that it wasn’t something I ever noticed myself, even if JFB’s “car” joke on Oprah offended me very much at the time.
Both Bornstein and Boylan have said it was meant to be a joke. And they both were. But both were reprinted in their books, and both mimes have spread; the plumbling/electricity line is repeated *all the time.* For that reason, it’s useful to look at it, & maybe ask why it seems to sum up something for trans women. Frankly, if it didn’t summarize something, it wouldn’t be repeated so often; that’s one of the things that makes a writer great, no? That they tap into things even they themselves may not be aware of.
For me, the ongoing problems between trans feminist and non-trans feminists makes an issue like this worth looking at, because frankly I’m tired of hearing about the shite attitudes of feminist women toward trans women and vice versa. Surely looking at language that may contribute to that divide is worth looking at & engaging, no?
Helen’s right in saying that the plumbing and electricity comment gets repeated and has become a meme. I’ve seen it on trans groups many times. And, people have probably come up with it independently of Kate, too. As innovative as Kate is, the plumbing analogy gets used a lot is cisgender conversations about genitals, too. And electricity is a common metaphor for sexual attraction or arousal.
Certainly, trans women’s experience and cis women’s experience are different, though of course there’s a lot of overlap, too (I suspect that the differences between outliers in each group are always going to be bigger than the differences between the average members of the group).
One way in which a post-op trans woman’s life experience seems to differ from that of a cis woman is that she gets asked a lot about her genitals, and especially that she gets asked a lot whether they work, and how well. A cis woman would rightly find such a question offensive in most contexts, but trans women are expected to put up with it.
Naturally, they come up with a pat answer so that they can move past that part of the Trans 101 conversation, and on to other things.
I’m guessing it’s probably that simple: cis women don’t often need a metaphor to quickly describe how their genitals work, and trans women often do. If the student is tired of it after seeing it in two out of three of her texts (and I can see how she could find it tiresome and/or objectifying), imagine how trans women must feel after hearing the question for the tenth time, or the hundredth.
And, I’m sure that nobody blames Kate if she’s tired of it, since she’s been out in the forefront for so long, and probably heard the question more than most.
🙂
Grace
Helen, I don’t blame the student for her reaction (though I might point out to her that “dehumanizing” is probably more likely to forestall honest discussion than “objectifying”). But describing 2 out of 3 as a majority is generous. It’s still far too little data to use for extrapolating to all (or even most) trans females — particularly those with different narratives or demographics.
As for the authors being well-respected, I have no doubt that’s true — but perhaps moreso outside trans circles than inside them.
I’m the admin for a forum for younger transitioners, and Ms. Boylan’s book has never been particularly popular there. It’s just one in a series of biographies that relates the dominant narrative of transitioning. Perhaps the best written, but many people do not relate to this narrative, and the invisibility of other narratives makes many people unhappy (though this is not Ms. Boylan’s fault). I don’t really have much of an opinion about her or her book. I glanced at her book, but it didn’t resonate with me so I didn’t complete it. I must confess, I sometimes get Jenny Boylan and Donna Rose confused.
I’d never heard of the race car metaphor until you posted about it. I wouldn’t make that comparison (and I find it rather objectifying), but I hardly think it’s a major meme in trans circles. I’m not sure where you’ve been hearing it repeated, so perhaps there are demographics where it is popular (but if so, youngish transitioners isn’t one of them).
As for Kate Bornstein, I’ve never actually read any of her books. I have been intending to read her Gender Outlaw book, because I’ve heard good things about it (ironically enough, primarily from cis gendered people at a local feminist bookstore). I’m not certain if this metaphor is from that book, but I’m pretty certain that the plumbing and electricity metaphors predate’s Ms. Bornstein’s use and are widely used. I wouldn’t use these metaphors either, FWIW.
I’m still inclined to believe that before we try to determine why trans females are different than cis females with regard to using such terminology, it is first necessary to establish that there is a difference (and no compelling evidence of such a difference has yet been offered, IMO).
Anyway, I’m rather under the impression that non-trans feminists are not really reacting to the words or deeds of actual trans females, so while looking at language of this sort might be interesting, I’m not sure it will give us much insight into the nature of the divide. If I wanted to study this divide, I’d first study the small segment of feminists who passionately hate the inclusion of trans females in women’s spaces, to try to understand their motives.
But I live in an area where trans acceptance amongst feminist and women’s groups is so high that I’ve never met a feminist in real life who was willing to publicly admit being anti-trans.
thanks, Lisbeth – for treating me as neither hateful nor stupid.
As I said on the boards, my student never made the claim that only trans women use these metaphors, & I didn’t either: she just happened to notice that two trans authors who are read by many did. I suspect it would have bothered her no matter who used the metaphor.
& Of course 2 of 3 books is a majority but not a real sample. Based on her experience it was, of course. I would also be curious to hear, Lisbeth, which books your generation of transitioners *do* like, if there are any.
But again, thank you. & I’m glad to hear it about the feminists near you. It certainly isn’t our brightest minority of the feminist community, & eventually I hope there won’t be any feminists at all who take that tack.
Helen, even from my brief encounters with you, it’s very clear that you are neither hateful or stupid. I’m sorry if I occasionally sound dismissive or condescending. I understand why you thought (and think) it’s an interesting question. Based on the disturbing number of trans folk who replied to you without disagreeing with the premise that they are disassociated from their genitals, it probably is.
For the record, I’m Gen-X and among the older regular posters at that forum. I believe I’m older than Betty. So I’m in your generation. Though for various reasons, such as my going back to college, my being socially active in the femme/butch scene, and my modding a forum filled with trans people under 25, most of my friends are much younger than me (and my world view is partly shaped by my peers).
I’m afraid I’ve never read your books, and while I’m interested in them now, I don’t anticipate reading them anytime soon for personal reasons. The only trans book that I’ve read that I really liked was Whipping Girl. It’s sort of a trite answer, because that’s easily the most popular trans related book on “that forum”, but I genuinely liked some of her essays quite a bit. I’ve heard really good things about “Mom, I need to be a girl,” but I’ve never gotten around to reading it.
Personally, when I’m not reading textbooks or researching papers, I read gender and lesbian books more than books that are specifically trans. I’m fascinated by femme/butch. I’m really looking forward to the Femmethology volumes coming out sometime in the spring.
Lisbeth, your comment that “[b]ased on the disturbing number of trans folk who replied to you without disagreeing with the premise that they are disassociated from their genitals, it probably is [an interesting question],” resonates with me. Because, as I mentioned, my initial reaction was similar to yours: that two doesn’t equal “often,” and that this really isn’t much of an issue, because I’d never actually heard any trans women using such mechanistic metaphors to refer to their genitals except in the most ironic sense of making fun of the metaphors themselves, as in “how’s your plumbing and electricity, ha ha ha.” And, of course, plumbing metaphors (for the urinary system) and electricity metaphors (for orgasm) are hardly unknown among cisgendered people in any event.
But some of the responses on the boards were so angry, bitter, and vitriolic in what appeared to be a defense of the use of such metaphors (rather than a disagreement with the premise that they’re often used), that I began to wonder if this kind of language really is more common than I thought. Certainly, though, it’s impossible to make any generalizations about the language that trans women do or don’t use or the way we do or don’t think of our genitals (either before or after genital reconstruction surgery); there’s probably as much diversity among trans women as there is among non-trans women on such matters. And, to the extent there is a divide, it isn’t necessarily on generational lines (as, again, I’ve mentioned before). I know that some earlier transitioners tend to “other” later transitioners, sometimes for entirely justifiable reasons — just as later transitioners often tend to objectify and idealize earlier transitioners — but on this particular issue at least, I don’t think that’s a valid way of categorizing opinions.
This reminds me of the xkcd about how sexism works: http://xkcd.com/385/ I imagine there are other women, both trans and non-trans, who don’t like these metaphors. It’s an interesting opening to talk about how different bodies of experience might affect a person’s language or response to it. But framing it as a blanket comparison of trans women vs. “women born with vaginas” just totally sounds like it belongs on some chalkboard list of marginalizing dualisms. It doesn’t have the option of being a neutral comparison: either you explicitly acknowledge privilege, or you are probably going to reinforce it.
I don’t think race cars are a particularly good metaphor for vaginas. If taken seriously, this is not only a sexist thing to say, it’s, I don’t know, just kind of odd.
This statement was said to me by a female friend originally, which I think is not insignificant since the person who came up with this had indeed been raised and socialized as female. The exact quote is not so much describing vaginas per se as the idea that someone would go to great time and expense to “acquire” something which they then do not use. This woman compared the fact that I am celibate to a race car “left in the garage” and not driven.
I don’t like having to talk about my genetalia on TV or anywhere else; it bugs me that people are so fixated on this, and whenever I’ve had to do this I have always tried to move the conversation somewhere else as quickly as possible. (I believe on Larry King I said to him, “do we REALLY have to talk about this?” and he simply said, Yes. If you look at the tape you can actually see me thinking, FUCK ME.)
I know, I know: nobody made me go on TV. I take responsibility for agreeing to pitch my book in the spotlight when I’m asked. I do this in part to educate people about trans stuff, even with all my shortcomings as a public person, and, sure: in part because I am desperately trying to keep my books in print.
When I’ve used this quote it’s for two reasons, neither of which is that I think my vagina is particularly like a race car. I’ve done it to talk about being celibate, which is my absolute least favorite thing to talk about in the world, and the source of lots of ongoing personal pain; and 2) I do it in order to make a joke. Maybe not the people in Helen’s or my classes, but plenty of people find trans stuff very hard to talk about, embarassing, insane. I have found that humor (which is what I have instead of an actual intellect) has helped to make people less uncomfortable, and over the years, it’s being funny about all of this deadly serious stuff that has enabled me to survive, and that has built a bridge to so many cisgendered people who’ve never even stopped once to consider my humanity, or that of any other trans person. If acting like a goofball, or saying outrageous things helps to achieve that end once in a while, well hell: I’ll do it. (I did in fact, just yesterday, intentionally fall over a chair and fall to the floor screaming in class (to illustrate the concept of “praxis,” or dramatic action) on Wed, which either makes me an idiot, or a Beloved Professor: You pick.)
I think that Helen’s student is absolutely right to raise this question, and sure: to object to this as a metaphor for female sexuality in general and vaginas in particular. She’s right. Anyhow, that’s what students are supposed to do: ask questions. Helen’s students are lucky to have someone who actually knows the answers present when their questions get asked.
I’ll also say that I believe that cisgendered women’s experience IS different than that of trans women, in all sorts of ways. I’m the result not only of being trans, but of 40 years of male socialization. I don’t think that makes me better or worse than cis women, but it does make me different, and that’s fine.
Whether using a really strange metaphor to describe something that “only women who were formerly men” would do, or whether this is something a “woman born woman” would NEVER do seems like murky territory to me. I know lots of women, both cis and trans, and they say and do all sorts of shit. It’s hard to categorize. I know a woman who actually has a accordian covered with sequins: is she cis or trans: you guess.
I too have noted the vehemence in the discussion of this. Maybe part of it is just people’s natural contentiousness. Maybe it has as much to do with individual personalities as the topic itself. Maybe trans women get defensive when it sounds like someone is saying, “You talk a particular way, or do a particular thing, because you’re different.” Maybe it’s all sorts of things that I’m not able to be articulate about.
I think it’s perfectly legitimate to wrassle over things writers have said. I have said plenty of things, and written things, over the years, that I wish I had not said, or written some other way. Hell man, when Doris Lessing died, the first thing I thought of was one sentence in one novel she wrote 40 years ago that pissed me off.
If I get defensive about my work, maybe it’s because I feel like I had to fight very very hard to write it, and to get it into the bloody public eye, and that I think there is value in my writing; I feel like it has done good in the world, and if I were to die of a big stroke tomorrow, I could reasonably feel like my time on earth had been well spent because of having left this work behind. When people criticize that work, it hurts– especially since I presume that my chops as a feminist shouldn’t have to be defended at this point of my career.
So when someone asks, “Isn’t it obnoxious that Jenny and Kate use these images?” you have to forgive us for feeling a little bit like the question is, “Aren’t Jenny and Kate stupid?” Or: “Are Jenny and Kate real women?” I know that wasn’t what was implied. But you know. I have never failed to seize any opportunity to take something the wrong way, or to get my feelings hurt.
I hope that readers would know that I want to be judged in the end, not by my vagina, or whatever fool thing I say about it in an attempt to make people laugh and open their hearts to what I am trying to say– but that I will be judged by having done some good in the world for trans people and those that love them.
And I will say the same about Kate– surely she knows that her innards and PVC piping and electrical wiring are different. I don’t agree with everything Kate has said, or written, and we have taken each other to task now and again for all sorts of things. But no one can question her credentials as a writer, as a feminist, and someone who has made life better for trans people.
I’ve seen Kate’s show. I love the truth; I love the anger, and sure: I love the jokes too.
Anyhow, as Elvis Costello says, I’m not angry. I’m grateful– grateful that the issues are being raised and discussed in colleges (and high schools!). I’m glad people are talking about this, and thinking. I hope people are buying Kate’s book. And mine. And Helens. And talking to each other. With compassion, and with love.
anansi – fyi, thanks for the analogy. funny because i use that cartoon to teach sexism & difference theory viz gender. go figure.
but it made the point, & aptly.
i am wondering now if anyone has come across any studies on the way people who have had surgeries relate to/talk about their bodies. i was reminded of it because an older lady i know recently presented herself at the hospital by saying “i’m here to be spayed.” she was undergoing a required hysterectomy (& is not trans). i assume some people would probably find that terminology offensive, too.
anyway, i’m thinking more about binaries & privilege.