The Economist Gets It

This week, The Economist published an editorial that left me pleasantly surprised.

I often read the magazine simply because it's more literate and has a broader horizon than most other magazines.  Their book and theatre reviews are among the best.  However, I don't always agree with their political and economic views, which always seemed to the right in a Thatcherist (if not Reaganesque) kind of way.  

As this week's editorial rightly points out, there seems to be a growing divide in this world when it comes to LGBT rights.  Now most western European countries, and some in Latin America and Asia--along with Canada and nineteen (as of this writing) US states--have legalized civil unions or gay marriage.  And those countries, along with others, have struck down old laws that criminalized homosexual acts.

On the other hand, some countries are developing ever-more-repressive policies toward LGBT people.  Those countries, mostly in Africa and the Muslim world, are--to some degree--reacting against the increasing tolerance of the West (and Far East).  But Russia's anti-gay policies cannot be laid solely at the feet of Vladimir Putin:  Polls indicate that about three in every four Russians disapprove of homosexuality.

Could the reaction of such countries be, in some way, a tacit admission that the world is changing?  Could they be left behind in other social areas, as well as economics, if they don't follow the rest of the world?  The editorial seems to imply as much:  In those countries, as in the rest of the world, the population--particularly the young--are becoming more urbanized and educated.  And, of course, they use the Internet.  So, perhaps, old prejudices and taboos could simply fade away as those younger people take their places in the world.

Fading Away

Lately I find that this blog is about the only place in which I discuss my experiences of having transitioned and gone through the surgery, or my life since then.  It seems that the surgery itself is less momentous an event than it was at the time I had it, or during the days that followed.  And the transition that led up to it doesn't seem quite as important now.  Some might say that I'm starting to take those things for granted.  They may be right.


What I am noticing, though, is that there are things that I simply don't see the same way as other people.  As an example, I got into an e-mail argument/discussion with a couple of colleagues about bigotry against racial and ethnic groups.  Someone thought I was somehow implying that white people have never suffered discrimination.  I never said that; instead, I explained that indentured servants (to use an example said colleague mentioned) faced bias, but not on account of being white.  Furthermore, none were brought here against his or her will, as African-American slaves were.  And, I added, indentured servants could gain their freedom after completing their period of servitude, which was usually about seven years.  African-American slaves had no such option.


The colleague said that our conversation (which included other colleagues) was "strange."  I didn't ask her to elaborate, but she did:  "I never heard a white person say those things before."


What I didn't tell them was that now I understand what it's like to face bigotry over some congenital trait rather than something like class.  Plus, if I do say so myself, I have some idea of how fearfully complicated life can be.  People's actual or perceived identities are simply a reflection of that.  So it makes sense, at least to me, that I am seeing--and being seen, at least by some--as someone who's more than just a bunch of therapy sessions, a couple thousand doses of hormones and the surgery.  Somehow I think that's, at least in part, the reason why I find myself not talking about those things, and thinking less and less about them.  Now that I think of it, that was one of the goals of everything I did.