Our Selves
In this excerpt from Trans Bodies, Trans Selves, contributors Mira C. Jourdan and Harper B. Keenan provide an overview of concepts and discuss what it means to be trans.
What does it mean to be trans? A common understanding of transgender, or trans for short, is that a person’s gender differs from the sex they were assigned at birth. However, many see the idea of being trans as more complicated — as an active process of challenging the formal structures that govern how gender is defined. For different people, and in different times, places, and contexts, gender itself can be a broad entity or a very narrow one, and in various ways, understandings of “trans” can seem too expansive or too restrictive.
Trans can be a creation story or the culmination of a story. It can be a history, a means of survival, a way of being, or a personal or political identity. It may be a response to an already-existing conversation about gender, or a wholly new dialogue about gender. Trans can create an experience of bonding and connection, or a difference that sets one apart. In other words, “trans” has no singular meaning, which itself highlights and expands our understanding of the incredible complexity of gender.
Depending on the context, I describe myself as a woman or a trans woman. The term MTF is convenient shorthand, and I sometimes use it when discussing trans issues with other trans people, but I was never male, so the literal translation does not apply.*
Trans can be a creation story or the culmination of a story. It can be a history, a means of survival, a way of being, or a personal or political identity.
We know what being trans is, for ourselves, because we have lived it. We can speak to our individual experiences and to our personal analyses of the systems that impact our lives and people in our communities, but when it comes to saying anything worth saying about our collective selves, we may struggle. Is there such a thing as a collective trans consciousness?
It would be impossible to try to speak to the infinite ways that trans people exist in the world. There is no way to do that well. We all have our own vantage points and biases. Dialogues within trans communities have the opportunity, however, to demonstrate our vast complexity.
I like the term genderqueer because it implies engagement in the process of queering gender. While some people with nonbinary gender identities do not consider themselves trans, I strongly resonate with the concept of having changed my gendered interactions with the world through coming out as a gender other than my assigned one.
Dialogue in trans communities is born from generations of conversations among people whose ways of being have challenged dominant conceptions of the meaning of gender. Obviously, there have been more contributions to that dialogue than are possible to record here. Important threads within the conversation in the context of the United States have included questions such as “Is transness inherently politically transgressive?” and “Is being trans a psychological or medical condition?” Within just these two threads, there are countless opinions and experiences.
When I transitioned, my counselor thought I was well-prepared. So did my physician. When I started living full- time, my learning curve became a shuttle launch — vertical!! I was fortunate in that I had a number of colleagues who took me under their wing like a younger sister and helped me along. What I found is that learning about privilege, politics, and then being homeless tempered me in ways I never could have imagined! I found a voice I never had. I found a strength I never had. I found a backbone I never had. Maybe even a level of courage I never had before. I would not wish this journey on my worst enemy! At the same time, I wouldn’t trade it for anything!
People who don’t fit into dominant conceptions of gender have probably always existed, but there is a lot we will never know because of the confines of how and by whom the past has been recorded. The terms used to describe what gender means have, like all language, changed over time. In a U.S. context, much of our vocabulary related to trans identity has historically been produced by non- trans doctors and psychologists — people like Magnus Hirschfeld and Harry Benjamin(1).
There was a shift toward self- definition in trans communities in the early 1990s, when the word “transgender,” originally coined by Virginia Prince in the 1970s, came into widespread use in public discourse. Although difficult to trace precisely, the use of this term was initiated in part by U.S.- based trans activists and public intellectuals like Holly Boswell and Leslie Feinberg (2). At the time, the word transgender was intended not only as an umbrella term to describe those whose genders do not easily fit within a binary system, but also as a political statement — a push toward a world with less formalized, less systematic gender regulation. Feinberg specifically argued that the binary regulation of gender was a product of colonialism and capitalism (3). Importantly, although Feinberg was a staunch anti-capitalist, to claim the term transgender for oneself today does not necessarily suggest any specific political stance. There are trans people all along the political spectrum.
Although we are all very different, there is strength in common advocacy.
Some trans people see a direct link between their gender identity and their politics. Others see their trans identity largely in isolation from other identities or affiliations. They may even maintain active membership in and engagement with organizations or groups that are antagonistic toward transness. Like most communities, every individual trans person decides for themselves where they fit on this spectrum and what is right for them.
Sometimes it’s what’s not said — binary as default. Your identity just isn’t even on the radar. Sometimes it’s well- meaning, fumbling inclusivity. Like this white dude reads a Medium article and thinks he knows all about you. Sometimes it’s subtle aggression, often masking fear — teasing at your expense, being casually dismissed or singled out, getting left out of opportunities; you’re treated differently and you don’t know why (you know why but you can never prove it). The whole skewed fabric of the universe. I hear microaggressions about gender and class every day. Race and sexuality less frequently (because people are more careful about speech). But the same shitty assumptions are there. It’s banal dehumanization, paper cut by paper cut. You’re never quite at the center of things.
Trans people are diverse, and we will never resolve the contradictions between our many views. We can all agree, however, on certain things. Trans people are real. There are many, many ways that people conceive of their own genders. This expansiveness can be creative, and it can also be a source of frustration. Trans people should not be forced to earn recognition of who they are, nor be forced to perform a narrowly prescribed gender role to be able to stay alive, to be safe, or to access community integration, legal recognition, or medical services they need. Although we are all very different, there is strength in common advocacy.
*Quotes, unless otherwise noted, come from the Trans Bodies, Trans Selves online survey.
1. Durso, L.E., & Gates, G.J. (2012). Serving Our Youth: Findings from a National Survey of Service Providers Working with Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Youth who are Homeless or At Risk of Becoming Homeless. Los Angeles: The Williams Institute with True Colors Fund and The Palette Fund.
2. District Settles Hunter Lawsuit for $1.75 Million. Press release jointly approved by the D.C. Office of the Corporation Counsel and attorneys for Margie Hunter. Thursday, August 10, 2000. GLAA. http:// www.glaa.org/ archive/ 2000/ tyrasettlement0810.shtml
3. James, S. E., Herman, J. L., Rankin, S., Keisling, M., Mottet, L., & Anafi, M. (2016). The Report of the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey. Washington, DC: National Center for Transgender Equality, p. 5.
Mira C. Jourdan, PhD (Our Selves Chapter Author) is a board-certified neuropsychologist and consultant based in Michigan, who is passionate about supporting autistic people and traumatic brain injury patients, and who engages in public and organizational education and advocacy around gender and sexual diversity.
Harper B. Keenan, PhD (Our Selves Chapter Author) has worked in the field of K–12 education for more than a decade and is currently an assistant professor of Gender and Sexuality Research in Education at the University of British Columbia.
Trans Bodies, Trans Selves is edited by Laura Erickson-Schroth MD, MA. Erickson-Schroth is psychiatrist at Columbia University Medical Center and Hetrick-Martin Institute for LGBTQ+ Youth. She is co-author of two other books, including Gender: What Everyone Needs to Know (Oxford, 2021).
