Not the focus of this blog, but something I plan to be touching on more. Just before I went offline I started a blog with Hollis called “I love Genderqueer.” I stopped it for a couple of reasons. First, I started getting nervous it might hurt Hollis’ new job. Let me be clear, she never told me to get rid of it, but being someone who’s been fired and black balled, more than once, for being Gay I was afraid. She had just started a new job with a big, global corporation. A corporation similar to the ones where I experienced discrimination. She was only offered a 6month trial contract. I didn’t want anything I wrote to be the cause for why they decided not to give her another contract. Second, and this is still part of my prior transphobia I will admit, I was getting tired of explaining to people, “Uhm no I’m not trans, I don’t want to be a man. That’s not any more right than being called a woman….[insert sigh and eye rolls].”
Quick aside, and more on this in later posts: I can say now, I’m not offended by being mistaken as trans, FTM. Thanks to the help of, well, some of my trans friends. And not by any overt conversations we’ve had, but just by knowing them. And more importantly, they all still call me their friend. They still accept me as their friend even though I did not decide to follow their path.
This may sound weird, but not all, let’s say “non-straights/non-cisgendered” accept all. There is discrimination in our ranks. Just like many Gay men don’t like those that are “too Gay,” there are other variations of “too this,” vs. “not really that enough.”
Also, my ability to claim or reclaim Genderqueerness solidified during the few months of volunteering for the Louisville Youth Group. Meeting and just plain observing the number of non-binary members, who were so strong in their non-binaryness. Seeing how unapologetic many of the young adults were about declaring their gender identity, even if it occasionally clashed with what us “older folks” might consider their gender expression. Then hearing a few of the older than me folks saying “these kids just need to pick a side,” and realizing how wrong that is. How dangerous. But even in face of ignorant elders these, “kids” knew who they were, fought for who they were and could be, without apologies. It was amazing to see.
I still remember vividly when some guy who was there to talk about personal finances asked the group a question and looked at one of the young adults with their hands up and sheepishly asked, “Ma’am?” Then was answered with a very direct and very strong, yet still polite, “Sir.” At that age I would never have corrected an adult. Actually, I’m not sure I ever have. Although, I can blame a fair amount of my reluctance on the fact that sir didn’t feel any less wrong, or more correct, than ma’am.
Hmm, wrote way more about that than I planned. Anyway, my point today was to talk about naming. But names and titles get mixed up with gender more often than not. As many of you know, I am currently engaged. And what the hell will I be referred to in the future? I’ve always dreaded, no abhorred the word “wife.” Yes, there are strong women who claim wife, but to me it throws back to the old legal status of property. Adultery was originally considered a crime against the husband, “taking of property.” Not only did I not want to be anyone’s property, I did not want my partner in life to be considered or reduced to my property. The word is just filled with images I am repulsed by.
So, what will I be called?
A brief internet search didn’t help much. (See Gender Neutral/Queer Titles from the Tumblr Gender Queeries). Partner, sounds too business like, and Significant Other, seriously, that just takes too long to say. The shorter SO sounds stupid to me, and spouse, I guess is OK but… Imzadi? I’ve never heard of “Imzadi,” and the explanation alone most likely results in raised eye brows followed by a quizzicle, “seriously?” The best I’ve come up with is Companion. Not great, but it reminds me of a song I love by Mark Cohen, “True Companion.”
Names, and nicknames seem to follow me, from sensei, and odd to Pepsi-no-ice, left behind, and Jim. It’s possible I’m worrying too much about nothing. I’ve carried so many and varied nicknames, it should seem natural that a new one will find me when the time is right.
“My grandfather would have loved to have met you,” he told her huskily. “He would have called you ‘She Moves Trees Out of His Path.’ ”
She looked lost, but his da laughed. He’d known the old man, too.
“He called me ‘He Who Must Run into Trees,'” Charles explained, and in a spirit of honesty, a need for his mate to know who he was, he continued, “or sometimes ‘Running Eagle.’ ”
” ‘Running Eagle’?” Anna puzzled it over, frowning at him. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Too stupid to fly,” murmured his father with a little smile.”
~ Patricia Briggs, Hunting Ground