Transgender Culture: What Is It? Or Is It?

The moment you talk about a "culture", you're not part of it.

Perhaps it's trite to say that. But, like so many other statements that become cliches, it is so trivialized, not because it's not true--if anything, it's cliched because it's so true--but because it's uttered so often and so glibly by people who feel smart or wise for using it.

Anyway, the first sentence of this post sums up the problem I've always had with the use of the term "transgender culture."

Now, there are cultures--like the Hijra of South Asia--consisting of trans people.  They indeed have their own customs, rituals, mores and, some might say, language.  And their culture can be said to be a function of the symbiotic relationship the cultures surrounding them (i.e., those of India) have with them.  Returning to the example of Hijra:  They are treated as a separate caste and have suffered increasing discrimination as India has become more Westernized and Christianized. But people still call on them to officiate at weddings and funerals, to offer blessings for other occasions and to ward off evil spirits.

But, as Kat Callahan points out, almost anyone who speaks of a "transgender culture" is talking about a Western or American idea of what it--or culture generally--is.  And, as Ms. Callahan points out, the speaker is almost always cisgender.  

What she doesn't say, but probably thinks, is that most Americans, to the extent that they think about "trans culture," define it in much the same way people used to talk about "gay culture" or "queer culture":  bars, clubs, balls and such.  There used to be talk about "queer spaces" where lesbians and/or gays--particularly young ones--could meet.  While such things still exist, I think they are dying out, as lesbians and gays have less of a need to simultaneously assert their identities and integrate themselves into their schools, workplaces and such because of the wider acceptance--or, at least acknowledgment--that your favorite aunt or uncle or most talented co-worker might be gay.

As Ms. Callahan points out, we, as trans people, are taking our place in that world.  That gives us less of a need to create insular identities and customs; of "trans culture", whatever it means, she writes, "It is unnecessary before it even has come to exist."  

Most poignantly, she says, "I am not part of it."  I feel the same way. Perhaps that is the reason why I have had so little involvement with trans, or even LGBT-related "culture" or events:  I don't know of any secret handshakes or kisses, or have any particular habits, beliefs or customs that are emblematic of trans people.  We don't have particular foods, ways of dressing, a language, a body of artistic expression or geographic locations that define us.  Certainly, we don't have anything resembling a common religion:  I've met trans people who are atheists, devout practitioners of mainstream religions, Wiccans and everything in between.  For that matter, I even wonder whether we have a common history, as the current definitions of trans people didn't exist through most of human history.
  
In other words, we can be nothing more or less than trans people in the culture(s) of which we are a part.  No one else can define what that means for us.

Condoms and diaphragms can't always protect us.  Sometimes we need an umbrella:

From Prezi

 

Seat Belt Safety Video: Good For Trans People?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a ruling from India's Supreme Court that says, in essence, that transgenders are a third gender.  This, I believe, is both good and bad:  On one hand, people do not have to be bound to the gender binary that prevails in most cultures.  On the other, such a law can make further stigmatization--particularly of the hijra--possible.


In that context, it's especially interesting to see hijra in a new video urging drivers to use their seatbelts. In it, transgender actors mimic airline flight attendants giving an in-flight safety demonstration. 


Most likely, the actors were chosen because in traditional South Asian cultures, hijra were believed to possess special powers and, for that reason, were asked to bless births and marriages and are, to this day, sometimes found blessing motorists in return for cash.


On the other hand, that is one of the reasons why hijra have been stigmatized:  People fear those very same powers.  However, it must be said that the most virulent prejudice against them has come as India has become more Westernized.


And, another reason why the video might not be such a boon to gender-variant people is that it casts trans people in one of the most stereotypically female--or, more precisely, feminine--roles: that of a stewardess.  Then again, some might regard that as a validation of us as women.


In any event, here's the video:

A Third Gender In India

Quite possibly the most revolutionary piece of legislation regarding gender identity and expression was passed two years ago in Argentina.  In essence, it says that any Argentinian aged 18 or older can live as whichever gender he or she chooses. It also authorized doctors, surgeons and other medical professionals to provide the necessary care for those who chose not to live in the gender to which they were assigned at birth.  And, for those who couldn't afford those treatments and therapies, the government would foot the bill.

Now something arguably as radical--or, perhaps even more so--has happened in India.  A couple of days ago, that country's Supreme Court ruled that transgenders are a third gender.  So, for starters, all official forms must allow for trans people to indicate their gender as such, just as males and females check off the boxes that correspond with their sex.  It also allows transgenders to receive government benefits and partake of the social programs to which the rest of the country's citizens are entitled.

On one hand, I am pleased with this development.  Although I identify as female, and would continue to do so even if I were offered the option now available in India, I do not believe that people should be bound to the gender binary if they feel it's inappropriate for the way they identify and express themselves.  

On the other hand, given India's history with transgender people, this development could be troublesome.  I am thinking specifically of the hijra, who are both venerated and stigmatized in the subcontinent's cultures.  

Traditionally, hijras lived outside of the gender norms of Indian society and were believed to have special spiritual (and paranormal) abilities cisgenders don't have.  So, they were often called upon to officiate at weddings, funerals and other ceremonies and to cast, or cast away, spells.  But, even with such a status--which, for the most part, they've lost as India has become more influenced by the West--they were still very poor and begged or even engaged in sex work.   To this day, people give them money simply because they don't want to take the chance that a spurned hijra will send some dark enerty their way.

Given such a history, I have to wonder whether India's new ruling might actually further stigmatize the hijra, as well as other trans people.  I can't help but to think about a trans woman who was a hijra in India and was seeking asylum here.  From what she told me, even though some people still believe hijras have special powers, they can be killed with little or no penalty to those who kill them.  And, according to this trans woman (who will remain nameless, for obvious reasons), many men in her native country "accept" trans people insofar as they can use us sexually, or simply as lurid curiosities.

I guess time will tell what how the Indian Supreme Court's ruling will affect the lives of trans people. 

Hijras: From Scorn To Running For Office

The first thing I read--a long time ago--about hijras made it seem as if they were accepted, or at least tolerated, in their native South Asian cultures until said cultures were "corrupted" by Western/Christian influence.

I wish I could find that book just so I could quote it more accurately and learn more about who wrote it.  I think he or she was a cultural anthropologist who somehow was warped by one of those gender theorists who said things like "gender is performative".  Or, perhaps, he or she was one of those gender theorists but was trying to pass him or her self off as a cultural antrhopologist.

Whatever the case, I thought it was suspect then.  Now I realize my instincts were right.  For one thing, Indians and Pakistanis I've met have told me otherwise.  Their stories have been confirmed by other readings I've done on the subject.

"Hijra" has been translated as "transgender."  Until recently, people used "transgender" as a  catch-all term  to include post-operative transsexuals, hermaphrodites, people who were born male but live as female and  cross-dressers.  That is more or less the way "hijra" has been used, which is probably the reason why it was so translated.

In India and Pakistan, they have long faced scorn, ridicule and even violence.  They live apart from the rest of society, as non-citizens, and have traditionally worked as circus performers, sex workers, dancers and beggars.  Sometimes they are paid to perform at wedding ceremonies, bless babies (In India, their prayers were considered especially powerful.) or simply to stay away from "respectable" communities.  But it has been rare to find any employed in the same ways as other members of society.  

Standing for elected office was out of the question--until now.  Last year, the Pakistani Supreme Court ruled that hijras could obtain identity cards that identified them as neither male nor female.  In essence, a "third gender" was created under law, and people could register to vote, work--and run for office--under it.

Now, a handful of hijra candidates are running for local and national offices in elections that will be held tomorrow.  "Before, no one cared about us.  There was no benefit for politicians in paying us any attention," says Naina Lal, one of the candidates.  "But now they are calling me, asking what we want and how they can help."  

It's heartening to see that Lal actually has support in a conservative Muslim country like Pakistan.  It's even more of a sign of change that the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz, one of the most conservative elements in Lal's hometown of Lahore, are courting Lal and other hijra candidates.

But somehow it's not surprising.  After all, Lal and other hijras are campaigning on issues like the high rate of HIV infection, skyrocketing food costs and frequent power outages: things about which hijras care just as much as everyone else.

Running Here For Their Lives

In an earlier post, I described the ordeal of "Fahrida," who was in one of my first support groups.  Now I will tell you something you might have guessed from her name:  In her home country, she was a hijra.  In Western countries, they are often classified as transgender or intersexed, but those terms are not exact equivalents to what hijra are, much less the roles they play in those societies.


As a feminine boy, she was outcast by her family and community.  While she could demand fees for appearing at weddings and such, and could even extort men or do sex work, she did not want to do those things.  Anyone who's ever done, or known anyone who's done, sex work realizes the risk of experiencing violence--or even being murdered--that goes along with such work.  Those risks are even greater for the hijra, who, like transgender and other gender-non-conforming people, experience the most brutal and gratuitous kinds of violence.


She cited these risks in her appeal to remain in this country.  That appeal was denied, as was her request to return to this country from a third country where she now lives.


What a lot of people don't realize is that LGBT--especially T--people who come to this country are often, literally, running for their lives.  Even though they can meet with grisly, violent deaths here, the risk is somewhat lower, and there is more of a chance of finding individuals or groups of people who will accept them.  They will not be confined to living among other bands of outcasts, as the hijra are in countries like Pakistan.


Plus, if they can stay, there is at least some chance of getting an education and doing something besides sex work--even if it's driving a cab, as Fahrida did when she was here.

Transgender Day of Remembrance: For The Truth About Amanda Gonzalez-Andujar

Today is Transgender Day of Remembrance.  For those of you who are just learning about it, this day commemorates those who met violent deaths on account of their actual or perceived gender identity and expression.  It commemorates the 1998 murder of Rita Hester in the Boston suburb of Allston.  


Like so many murders of transgenders--and that of Matthew Shepard, which preceded hers by a few weeks--it was notable for its gruesome overkill.  For all of those who think that we're trying to make our deaths, and the ways in which we are victimized, seem more important than crimes against everyone else, I want to say just a couple of things.


First of all, murders of transgender (and other gender-variant people) have some of the lowest "solve" rates.  When I wrote an article about the issue five years ago,  92 percent of such murders committed during the previous 30 years hadn't been solved, according to Interpol. That has much to do with the fact that they are not taken seriously by authorities in many places; among those in law enforcement and criminal justice, there is too often the attitude that we "had it coming" or that no one will miss us.  The latter notion is, too often, true, for many of us have been cast aside by the families into which we were born or the ones we made.  (In that sense, I am luckier than most, as my parents have been supportive even though they don't entirely approve of what I've done.)


Second, as I've mentioned, our deaths are some of the most gratuitously violent.  In those cases in which investigators actually investigate our deaths, much less take those investigations seriously, police officers and coroners as often as not say that our murders are the most horrible they'd seen.  As an example, just two weeks ago, a cross-dresser and a eunuch were tortured--Their eyes and nails were removed--and burned beyond recognition.  


You might be tempted--as I would have been, not so long ago--to say, "Well, that's Pakistan.  Things like that happen there."  Indeed it is a conservative Muslim country.  But there, as in India, there is a class of people--of which the two murder victims may have been part--called the hijra. They have been tolerated if not afforded equal status, but they have been increasingly marginalized, and even stigmatized, during the past sixty years or so.  Still, the fact that they were even tolerated--if only for their usefulness as sex workers--makes them without parallel in most of the Western world.


(Ironically, "Hijra" is also the migration of the prophet Mohamed and his followers to the city of Medina in C.E. 622.  Most Americans and Europeans know of that journey by its Latinized name, "Hegira." )




To his credit, the Police Superintendent Syed Amin Bukhari has actually formed separate investigative teams for each murder.  And while some people still seem to think that they brought it on themselves by "bringing misery to the streets," as one commentor said, others have lamented the brutality of those slayings.  


However, to find any of those attitudes expressed, or to know how brutal the murder of a gender-variant person can be, one needn't go to Pakistan.  At least, I don't need to.  All I have to do is ride my bike about half an hour from my apartment to Ridgewood, Queens, where Amanda Gonzalez-Andujar lived and died in March.  Hers is one of the (too) many names being read at Transgender Day of Remembrance events this year.   


Somehow, I don't think this will be the last time I mention her name.  I know that there are others--some of whom I saw at the vigil held in front of her apartment--who will also keep her name, and thus her memory alive, for themselves and in the minds of those who investigated her killing.  Even though they made an arrest and are to be commended for their work, I don't want them to forget, for her sake as well as that of anyone else who meets a fate as terrible as hers.  


And I want to remember, and be sure they remember, her and the others because of what Voltaire said:  On doit egards aux vivants; on ne doit aux morts que la verite:  To the living we owe respect; to the dead, we owe nothing but the truth.