Gender Bias vs. Trans Bias

The other night something very interesting happened to me. Sharon and I went to a pub that we like to visit that is just on the border of Leicester Square and Chinatown. We go to this place at least once every other week or so, and as a result we're not strangers to the place.

Well, we walked in and found a table by the door. I then headed for the bar to get our drinks. As I walked by, this drunk bozo, his drunk girlfriend, and a couple of their asshole friends just started pointing at me and laughing their heads off. The bozo then started to mime having large breasts by bulging his cupped hands out in front of his chest. This led his friends into another gale of laughter.

Suffice it to say, I was pissed. As I walked back to our table, I thought about smacking the bozo's face, but I held my temper in check. That said, I was still very hurt and angry about the whole thing.

As I sat back down, I started to steam.

I'm not a good one at letting things like this go. I told Sharon what had happened, but it continued to bounce around in my head for far more time than I should have let it. But for once, all that bouncing around led me to do some productive thinking on the events.

You see, I'm pretty used to getting hassled by jerks. The world is a pretty trans-phobic place, and I get uncomfortable glances and comments pretty frequently on a daily basis. Think about it… If I only get read by 1 or 2% of the population, I still come in contact with many hundreds of people each and every day. London is a BIG city! In addition to the day-to-day crap, I get more escalated reactions at least once a week. These can range anywhere from people making a public scene, to outright acts of harassment and discrimination.

But these are all trans-phobic responses.

What I realized while all those thoughts were bouncing around in my head was that I had just been the victim of gender bias, not trans bias…

The drunk fool wasn't laughing at me because he saw me as transgendered. He was laughing at me because he saw a big woman with large breasts. What I had originally interpreted as a trans reaction was in reality a gender reaction!

Now, this was a revelation to me. I'm a pretty insecure person, as are many of the transgendered. This reaction comes from being held under a microscope by the people around you. But, the fact is that women as a whole are often held under a similar microscope. Perhaps this gender-scope isn't as blatant or obvious as the trans-scope, but perhaps it is even more dangerous for being somewhat hidden by society.

A woman must walk a thin line in many respects. If she is too soft in the business world, she is a pushover. If she is too hard, she is a bitch. If she dresses one way she is a slut, another and she is too old fashioned. If she chooses a career versus a family, she is criticized. But she is also criticized for making the converse decision!

This constant scrutiny and criticism carries an emotional cost as well as an economic cost. Sure, we've all read about the gender gap in the popular press, but it is so much more real when you were a member of the favored group and then suddenly find yourself in the persecuted group!

Because of my background, I'm in an interesting position to explore these issues further. That said, I admit that any observations that I make would carry the bias of my non-female origins and my transgendered insecurities. Just the fact that I was socialized in a male role as a child makes my lens somewhat flawed. Still the same, not many people get to see the world from both sides of the gender divide!

I'll probably post more on this subject here in my journal as events unfold and I try and interpret them in this new understanding.

As a footnote to the bozo in the pub I'll tell you that a little later on in the evening I walked back to the bar for another round. As I approached the asshole, I slowed and then stopped right in front of him. I then peered down toward his pants. I pointed at his crotch, and then I took my index finger and my thumb and held them about three inches apart. I shook my head and reduced the gap to about an inch and a half.

And then I broke out in gales of laughter…

-Jess