Transparency
Written in collaboration with Andrew Uhrig
Photography by: Andrew Uhrig
Models: Des, Sadie Williams
Many of the stories we see in the media of trans/gender noncomforming (GNC) people — and marginalized folks generally — follow a script of laying out their trauma for a disengaged audience. Though doing so can be cathartic for subjects, what does it mean for audiences to consume these narratives? Joel Calfee writes in collaboration with Andrew Uhrig to explore what it means for mainstream audiences to need these narratives in order to think of trans/GNC people as people.
“There’s this quote from Janet Mock that I often think about and sometimes I have to go rewatch the video, just so I can hear her say it. The quote goes something like this: ‘We are a mesmerizing constellation — so vast it can’t be contained, so plentiful it can’t be denied, so brilliant it shines through the dark.’ I just think that’s really beautiful.”
This quote is one that metaphorically refers to trans and gender non-conforming individuals as celestial beings. This metaphor paints for us an inspiring image of spirits who are bright enough to light up the universe, but also inserts the subtle notion that these people are required to project themselves through an expanse of darkness in order to be seen.
“we need the sun to thrive and any time we see sunlight we want to be in it.”
Too often, trans stories are characterized by overwhelming darkness. Trans, nonbinary, and gender non-conforming folks may be forced to endure a debilitating amount of trauma throughout their lives, but this pain is frequently highlighted and exploited by the media. Mainstream journalism covering trans issues lingers in the spectacle of trans death. Chosen families are left to mourn the lives of those lost, wondering how long it will take for the threat of violence to disappear.
Since trans and gender non-conforming (GNC) people are so often associated with suffering, they are seen solely as victims. This is not to say that we should disengage in dialogue about specific obstacles trans/GNC people face, as this would ignore institutional transphobia. However, dialogues about trans people should not reduce them to victims because this process both dehumanizes trans people and distorts mainstream perceptions of them. For a collection of people who are constantly battling the warped lens through which the public sees them, this is a premise that needs to be dismantled.
Since trans and gender non-conforming (GNC) people are so often associated with suffering, they are seen solely as victims.
“I think we are all here for a reason, whether or not we know [the reason].”
While it is important to recognize the constant threat of violence against trans people, we need to change the ways in which we think and talk about gender more broadly.
“I am beautiful, I am bold, I am sensitive, and I am soft. I am courageous.”
For our cover story this semester, ROCKET used a new approach. We sent out a form to LGBTQ+ groups on William & Mary’s campus and asked for anonymous submissions from trans/GNC folks. In an effort to promote visibility for trans people while deconstructing the harmful narrative the media spins around them, we told our respondents to share their stories openly and that we would keep their identities private. Anything they wanted to say, we were grateful to hear. Whatever joyous, outrageous, acrimonious, or effortless thought that popped into their head was fair game.
“I love my gay boyfriend.”
“I think the only thing that makes me feel at home in my body is walking. The steady movement of my feet against the ground, my self transited forward, ever forward.”
“I’m happy when I’m cooking dinner with my friends and I’m happy when we sit on someone’s bed talking for hours and I’m happy when we play board games.”
"Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, my breakfast is a piece of cake (literally).”
“I'm passionate about writing, about dance, about movement, about creativity of the body, spirit, and mind.”
This is a collection of stories written by trans people, but the focus is not on whether these are “trans stories.”
“I’m a sucker for full bookshelves, and I’d love to own a house someday with floor to ceiling shelves.”
The emphasis is not placed on the pain that trans people have to endure, even though this suffering is valid and can be a significant part of trans people’s lives.
“When I was younger, [sometimes I thought] about how much I wished I didn’t exist. Because existing meant being misgendered and isolated and excluded, by everyone, forever. I hated being trans.”
Instead, we wanted to focus on the complexity of these individuals.
In theory, this concept seems absurd. Why do we have to humanize transness at all? One might think that we are at a historical moment where we don’t need to tell stories that explicate the full scope of a human (trans) experience. Needless to say, we are still at a point where trans lives are misunderstood.
More often than not, the visibility that trans people get is not the visibility they need. When we think of trans/GNC folks in the spotlight, there is often an immediate concern with their pasts and the intimate details of their lives. Trans autobiographies and memoirs abound because audiences look at trans people like mythical creatures that they want to understand. Consumers desire “the private past,” “the concealed suffering,” and “the wearying transformation” of these individuals. Spectators try to probe into their medical histories and uncover the “truth” about their bodies. They make damaging and violent references to deadnames and childhood appearances, or they ask scrutinizing and inappropriate questions about their sex lives and romantic partners.
“I had a vision of distorting twist of bluish light, a lens creating a hologram named [deadname].”
Cis audiences, both queer and straight, are upset by anonymity and non-conformity because it forces them to turn inward. In our cultural context, we feel the need to identify others, and it frustrates us when we can’t. Cisgender people are armed with a finger to point whenever someone transgresses gender boundaries. They don’t realize that the fabricated gender binary which dictates our society is not sustainable. Cis people want to pin trans folks down like insects and classify them in an effort to deal with their own insecurities and reaffirm the gender binary to which they are accustomed. When everyone is easily grouped, then no one is forced to look introspectively. It can be difficult to reckon with the fact that no one can be easily categorized.
“I often walk around thinking about how many of the other people around me also lack a sense of home in their bodies.”
“I often walk around thinking about how many of the other people around me also lack a sense of home in their bodies.”
This story is an attempt to take that power away from audiences who objectify and exploit trans, GNC, and nonbinary individuals. We are giving space to allow these individuals to have their stories told without having to put themselves in the public eye or put forth distressing anecdotes. We asked them to be real with us, and their responses fell nothing short of that request.
Many concentrated on how they experience an overwhelming sense of love. They talked about all of the people in their lives who care for them and the sense of community that they’ve created.
“Being around people who love me exactly how I am makes me want to love myself too.”
“I’m currently in love with someone and it’s like magic. I’m happy I’m alive.”
“I love my chosen family. I love the people I call home. I love that I have come to this campus and was welcomed into a world of beings who love me for me and who have come to know me, beyond the narrative that I once created for myself.”
“My friends make me so glad that I exist… Being around people who love me exactly how I am makes me want to love myself too.”
“One day, we will set the world aflame with our love.”
The language of love can be a powerful tool in reenvisioning how we talk about transness. Forming public discourse around love for trans people because of their trans-ness, rather than pity for trans people because of their suffering, has the potential to create radical shifts in our understanding of gender. This focus on experiences of love and joy contributes to the wholeness of trans stories. Without the inclusion of these pieces, we see fragments of the trans and gender non-conforming lives all around us. It is stories such as the ones we collected that tell us everything. This is a collection of stories written by people.
“When I was 15, I didn’t think it was possible to be trans and happy. But I’m so happy.”
“I have a very ambitious and specific dream of what I want to do with my life.”
“I am empowered by the people I love, and seek to find the good. I am thankful for this body, for this time, for this.”
Originally published in ROCKET Volume X, Issue 1
**This article appeared as the cover story in this issue