It’s true that I started noticing issues regarding gender and sexuality relatively recently, let’s say around 2010, probably, when I was merely 15 years old. It was actually thanks to manga and anime that it was brought to my attention in a positive, natural light (have you watched Number 6? That’s it, the slow relationship between Nezumi and Shion, which I was not expecting at all when I started it, was the beginning). Before that, it was not really discused in my family (neither positively nor negatively), and only mentioned jokingly in my circle of friends and school -- though not really in a malicious or derisive way, just a joke or two cracked here and there (though I know now that “even just a joke” can be very harmful).
Slowly, I started noticing that the world was not divided into “men” or “women”, “hetero” or “homo/gay”, but that it actually consisted of many more “categories” -- and that even then, some people didn’t really “fit” any of those.
I’d like to make a brief mention here about categorizing, stereotyping and all that jazz that comes bound up with society rules. They are trash. They are garbage. They are useful only to help us not to be overwhelmed when we’re faced with something we don’t understand for the very first time. That’s it. For the very first time. Then, we learn. As we’ve been doing since we were born, we ask why, and who, and how, and we slowly break down those stereotypes and accept the unknown for what it is, we make it known.
Or, that’s how it should be. That is how it was for me, at least.
I’ll make this a little longer, and I apologize, but bare with me. I’d like to tell you a story.
I was fifteen, and I entered the Theater Club at school with one of my best friends. There were many people there, girls and boys of fourteen up to nineteen. Our teacher was an actress, a happy-go-lucky woman with big dreams and a heart of gold.
I was shy, and many other were, too. (It’s really curious, how many shy, introspected people I’ve found that like acting and theatre.)
The first class we were all looking around, many not knowing anyone else there, small groups of classmates sticking together like glue. Caro (that was my instructor) guided us through a set of excercises to stretch our muscles and loosen our bodies, and then voice excercises to prepare our throats. She made us change partners at the clap of her hands, and introduce each other in the seconds we were doing the excercises together.
There was a boy there, during those excercises, that I immediately found different. As the excercise finished before we had to work together, I didn’t know his name, or if he was actually a he. I wondered, but didn’t ask, as I felt it would be too rude and I was certain that sooner or later I’d know. I wasn’t really uncomfortable, just... unsure.
My friend asked me afterward if he was a boy or a girl. I told her, truthfully, that I wasn’t sure.
Later that year, I discovered that he was a trans boy. He had a facebook where he explained about himself and what the change meant to him, to his family, to his friends. How society saw him, how he himself saw him, what struggles did he face. I was intrigued, so I followed him. I can’t say we are close, we never really were, but I respect him immensely.
He had successfully changed his name and started with the hormone therapy just a couple of years ago. The troubles with his family had abated, he was accepted in school (well, I like to believe that, because I hadn’t heard any nasty or demeaning comments about him), and finally, after much struggle with doctors, finally went through surgery.
For him, it was a milestone conquered.
But even then, he is still not completely happy.
Because he faces discrimination and segregation and uncooperativeness with every new group of people he mets. Because he fights his damn hard to be recognized, to be treated as the man he is, to be considered an equal to other “real” men. Because it is still not enough.
Because people asks him over and over again the same stupid questions (“But, aren’t you a girl?”, “If you are trans, that means that you used to be a girl?” “So, you’re a girl who wants to be a boy?”) and make the same assumptions and rude comments (”You’re just a lesbian, why would you say you’re a boy?” “You’ll never be a real man” “You’ll always be a girl to me”).
I’m not saying that not knowing is wrong; I’m not saying that asking is wrong. But there are ways of asking and ways of asking. And there are questions that we can solve for ourselves without having to resort to making someone uncomfortable.
I was reading a post today about genders and the pronouns. Then about terminology and how people can get easily offended when you don’t refer to them correctly. I wondered who, I wondered why, and I wondered what can I do about it, how can I improve my behaviour? and decided to search for answers in the web. You know, the Internet? It’s an amazing source of information. Just -- select from it carefully, as (just the same as society) it is full of garbage.
I found and read through this site: http://transwhat.org/confused/ ... and I found it very informative. Simple, for someone that really didn’t have much idea, as I myself didn’t. Now I know a little bit more, now I think a little bit more. Hopefully, it’s a good first step (or second, perhaps) to become a better person. To help trans people (and others, too) feel a little bit more accepted, a little less judged.
I’m not part of the LGBT community, but I CARE.
I sincerely believe that everyone should.
