Changing Gender Perception, Not Performance
A thorough understanding of gendering, gender entitlement, and cissexual privilege challenges both the mainstream assumption that cissexual genders are more “natural” and legitimate than transsexual genders, and the recent focus among gender theorists and activists on how all people “do” or “perform” their genders.5 These performance-centric models of gender can vary quite a bit, but they generally stress the idea that each of us actively creates gender differences by “doing” or “performing” gender in particular ways. According to this view, femaleness is not a natural state, but one that we reproduce when we call ourselves women—when we act, dress, speak in what are considered feminine ways—and similarly for maleness. Some of the more extreme variations of this theory leave little room for intrinsic gender inclinations, leaning toward the notion that our gender and sexual identities are merely unconscious repetitions of the socialization and gender norms that have been foisted upon us. Because many theorists and activists view gendered performance as the means by which gender privileges, expectations, and restrictions are propagated in our culture, they have argued that the most effective way to counteract oppositional and traditional sexism is to refuse all gender and sexual identities, or to subvert those categories by “doing” gender in nonconventional ways (e.g., drag, androgyny, and so on).
Many gender theorists and activists have embraced performance-centric models, praising these models’ potential to free us from oppositional gender norms and to challenge the idea that straight genders are more legitimate than queer ones. But I see several problems with such theories. For one thing, such models display several of the flaws that regularly plague gender theories, which I described in detail at the end of chapter 6, “Intrinsic Inclinations.” Further, I believe that the central tenet of performance-centric models of gender—that social gender arises and is propagated by the way individuals “do” or “perform” gender—is problematic. Many of us who have physically transitioned from one sex to the other understand that our perceived gender is typically not a product of our “performance” (i.e., gender expression/gender roles), but rather our physical appearance (in particular, our secondary sex characteristics). This makes sense if you think about it. After all, if you look like a supermodel, you can act as butch as you want to, but other people will inevitably gender you as female. And if you look like a linebacker, you can act as femme as you want, but others will still gender you as male. While the way we “do” gender may influence whether people perceive us as queer or straight, and may tip the scales for those whose appearance is somewhat gender-ambiguous to begin with, the vast majority of us are gendered primarily based on our physical bodies rather than our behaviors.
Personally, I used to have a performance-centric view of gender when I was living as a male, when I used to crossdress and “pass” as a woman in public. The amount of time and effort I had to put into altering my appearance and behaviors to accomplish that feat made it feel like a performance in many ways. But when I eventually did transition, I chose not to put on a performance—I simply acted, dressed, and spoke the way I always had, the way that felt most comfortable to me. After being on female hormones for a few months, I found that people began to consistently gender me as female despite the fact that I was “doing” my gender the same way I always had. What I found most striking was how other people interpreted my same actions and mannerisms differently based on whether they perceived me to be female or male. For example, when ordering drinks at bars, I found that if I looked around the room while waiting for my drink (as I always unconsciously had prior to transitioning), men started hitting on me because they assumed I was signaling my availability (when I was perceived as male, the same action was likely to be interpreted simply as me scoping out the room). And in supermarket checkout lines, when the child in the cart ahead of me started smiling and talking to me, I found that I could interact with them without their mother becoming suspicious or fearful (which is what often happened in similar situations when I was perceived as male).
During the first year of my transition, I experienced hundreds of little moments like that, where other people interpreted my words and actions differently based solely on the change in my perceived sex. And it was not merely my behaviors that were interpreted differently, it was my body as well: the way people approached me, spoke to me, the assumptions they made about me, the lack of deference and respect I often received, the way others often sexualized my body. All of these changes occurred without my having to say or do a thing.
I would argue that social gender is not produced and propagated because of the way we as individuals “perform” or “do” our genders; it lies in the perceptions and interpretations of others. I can modify my own gender all I want, but it won’t change the fact that other people will continue to compulsively assign a gender to me and to view me through the distorted lenses of cissexual and heterosexual assumption.
While no gendered expression can subvert the gender system as we know it, we are nevertheless still capable of instituting change in that system. However, such change will not come by managing the way we “do” our own gender, but by dismantling our own gender entitlement. If we truly want to bring an end to all gender-based oppression, then we must begin by taking responsibility for our own perceptions and presumptions. The most radical thing that any of us can do is to stop projecting our beliefs about gender onto other people’s behaviors and bodies.