Come on and tell us… We need to know!

"Come on and tell us… We need to know!"

These words came out of the mouth of a virtual stranger that I met in a pub a few nights ago.

"It's alright, love, you're among friends…", one of his mates went on to say.

I've been thinking about this exchange for a little while, and I wanted to write about it. To be honest, I really don't know what I want to write. I just feel emotions welling up inside of me and I hope that by letting my fingers fumble around this here keyboard I just might be able to get some of them out. As a result, the following entry just might be a little disjointed and rambling. And it might have a few choice swear words in it. Ah, well, as the writer I guess that's my prerogative. Read something else if you'd prefer sweet and coherent…

Going back to that bloke's question, I want to ask my own question.

Why?

Why do you need to know?

Of course, what these folks wanted to know was what equipment I had down under my skirt.

Ok, so I want to break this down a little bit.

First, even just asking the question means that they sussed out that there was something fundamentally different about me. Damn, I hate that. Yes, I'll admit personal responsibility for my own appearance and presentation, but I am still just a babe in the woods. I get things wrong sometimes. Hell, I get things wrong a lot of the time. I'm still learning and working on it.

In their defence, they didn't know that. They didn't know just how much their simple question hurt me. Their only experience with anything trans was undoubtedly from popular media where, for some reason, trans people sometimes feel compelled to share their secrets with the world.

I'm not being critical of the women who choose to talk about the subject. In the majority of the cases, I'm kinda proud of them for having the courage to risk public scorn and humiliation in order to try and educate the public on the subject. Of course, this doesn't include the nutcases on Jerry Springer, but that's another subject.

Back to the blokes.

So society and popular media might have taught these guys that it's somehow OK to ask a total stranger about their genitals, *if* they think that stranger might be transgendered. Hmm, well, that's just kind of messed up all by itself, now isn't it?

Why are the rules of propriety negated for me?

Would it be OK to ask some woman how big her breasts were? Or if they were real? If you saw a guy with an obvious bulge in his pants, would you ask how big his tool was?

No. Of course not.

So why is it somehow OK to ask me about my crotch?

Alright, let's set the issue of propriety to the side for a second and look at the effects of simply asking the question.

So, by just asking the question, a person is communicating any number of things:

* This is a masculine woman.
* This might be a guy in drag, or even one of those transsexuals I saw on TV.
* The subject of someone's gender is more important than other concerns such as their skills, personality, interests, merits, etc..
* They don't deserve the same respect I would give another human, therefore it's OK to ask totally inappropriate questions.

If I had to pick-and-choose, I guess that I would pick the first. Well, I don't get to pick, and that usually isn't what the inquisitor is communicating, and, even if it was, it's not a very flattering thing to say about someone, now is it???

"Hey, you look like a masculine woman… let me ask you about your genitals…"

Ah, but like I said, even if that unflattering form of the question might be the preferred choice, it's usually not the form that the questioner is using. At least not when the question is directed at me. When I get asked the question it's because the person wants to know if I'm a transsexual. They are telling me that they think that is the most interesting or the only interesting aspect of who I am. And, most derogatorily, they are saying that I don't deserve the same respect that they would give anyone else.

Woah! Stop right there, Jessica! I was just curious when I asked the question, that's all… No harm intended.

Bullshit.

Would the first question that you ever asked some black man that you just met be if the old saw regarding their penis size was true?

If you saw a total stranger gently rocking on the subway, would you ask if they have Parkinson's disease?

If you heard a kid in the park make an unusual noise, would you ask their parent if they were retarded?

No, of course not. Because one would hope that you are guided by the rules of appropriate behaviour, and asking such a question would not be appropriate.

Except, of course, if you think the person in question might be a transsexual.

So, am I somehow less of a human? Do I deserve less respect than anyone else?