Sofia Martins Identity Paper 9/24/17
Identity Paper
Although this may seem like a cliché, I’m still not sure if I completely know who I am. I do not always know how I want to dress, who I want to spend time with, and what I want to spend my time on. I know very little about myself. I know that Sofia is too formal for my liking, so I go by Sof. I know that some days I feel like a boy, and some days I feel like a girl. And I know that I have not always fit within the traditional black community, or so I thought. I was always very sure about my gender. I was certain that I was a cisgender female, and I was most comfortable with identifying as that. I always kind of dressed ‘differently’ than the people around me, and was not afraid to play with gender. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a fashion designer. When I was younger, I wanted to strictly design mens clothing. Once I got to be about 13 and I realized that gender in clothing is a ridiculous construct, I began to play with androgyny. I decided that that was how I felt most comfortable, some days dressed as a boy, and others as a girl. To me, I like the idea of being able to switch up my styles, and my boy style and girl style are drastically different from one another. Not until about a year ago did I realize that I identify with being genderfluid. Being genderfluid to me isn’t necessarily one of my biggest identifiers, but I think it is important to notice how it alters the things I associate myself with. On both sides I am all black. I grew up in a nuclear family. One mother, one father, and an older brother. One girl and one boy. My brother and I were both into the things that traditionally correlated with our genders, me dolls and makeup, him sports and tools. My brother was always more outgoing than I was, more willing to put himself out there. He was unintentionally raised to assert male dominance, and I was raised to speak my mind as long as what I had to say was relevant. Oftentimes, I realized what I thought was relevant to me meant nothing to what seemed like everyone else in the black community. At first I had a hard time with this, being singled out and estranged by the people who look most like me. The divide between my brother and I was large. There was one thing that we both relied heavily, though. Art. Through the art world, I found a relationship with my brother where we could both like the same things. Through art with my brother, I found ways to express myself that I may not have had the courage to do before, but with his validation I was unstoppable. Through art with fashion, I realized that gender is simply a construct I do not wish to follow. My brother has always been into fashion and pays a lot of attention to his appearance, and because of this, many people assume he is gay. I once asked my brother if it bothered him that people were making assumptions about his sexuality, and all he said to me was, “No, but what if I were gay? Why would that be a problem.” And the thing is, it most definitely would not be. I soon realized that if my brother felt that he was able to do things that did not fit the gender roles unintentionally forced onto him, then neither did I. At first, I felt as though I did not have a choice. I am a black girl. Black people ‘do not experience gender questioning,’ that is “a white people thing.” As a concept, I thought I knew what this meant. I always knew that there were things that white people did and things black people didn’t. But not until recently did I stop to think about why. Since I have been as fortunate as I am to be raised in the accepting environment I was born into, I never really had to think about this other than a joke. But for many black youth my age, it is not a joke. Black people do not listen to indie rock and surf punk. Black girls do not dress in baggy clothing and have a shaved head. Black girls do not take up space. When I was younger, I had all of these ideas in my head. Although I was afraid, I continued to ‘listen to white people music and dress like a boy.’ I know that I am extremely lucky to have a family that supports me no matter what, even though they might not always understand, because I know for some people, that is not the case. My family has never told neither my brother nor I that the way we have chosen to express ourselves is not right. If anything, they push us to navigate ourselves in the world whilst being the most ‘ourselves’ (whatever that may mean) that we can be. Because my family is so accepting, when I was tasked to think about this, I had a hard time making sense of it. But finally, I came to this conclusion: white people don’t have to worry about how their interests might affect their place in society. Since white people have historically dictated what is and isn’t right for others, they may subconsciously pay little attention to the social constructs amongst themselves. And because black people have been ridiculed for years on end, and have been shamed for their interests and stylistic choices, I have been conscious of things that my white friends haven’t. Because our media is whitewashed, the idea of expression only really applies to white people, and anyone who is not is seen as a conformist. I realized by liking “white culture,” some people thought that I was refusing to identify with my own blackness. Sometimes I even wondered if I was trying to be something I am not. Once I realized that I can like what I like and dress how I dress does not determine my blackness, I became more comfortable with presenting myself the way I do. Although I still struggle with liking myself and even having a sense of self, I no longer think that what I like doesn’t belong to me as it does to my white peers. I am now more comfortable with myself than I have ever been, and I directly relate this to my realization that gender fluidity is not a ‘white people thing.”