The Search for Trans Meaning
On why we're here.
I transitioned in late 2017 while living in Connecticut. I now live in Massachusetts as a university professor with a loving partner. While there were many periods of loneliness and I still face many barriers to where I can exist, I have always had access to hormone treatments, surgeries, and other trans resources, including community members. I undeniably have a sense of purpose, place, and meaning in this world: I am an educator, a mentor, a partner, a friend, a DJer of parties, a baker of yummy cookies.
This is a tremendous success for the trans people who came before me, but I’m one of the lucky ones. Many of us transsexuals (most of us?) are pushed out of American life on the most fundamental of levels. They lack to autonomy to decide what they do with their own bodies (hormones, sex changes, etc.). They are pushed out of careers. They are denied the love and respect they deserve. They are forced into riskier situations—riskier jobs, riskier sex, riskier relationships—and thus have worse health outcomes, higher rates of murder, higher rates of suicide. All of this contributes to the feeling that they, and by extension trans people as a group, do not have a place in this world.
With the state of my country as it is right now, trans people everywhere are trying to figure out where it all went wrong and what to do next. Did our community make a mistake by trying to become more visible in the early 2010s? Were we too demanding or too confusing in some way? Was it just bad timing given the Trump administration and late-stage capitalism of it all? Or were we simply destined to fail because this is America, a land that will never know gender equality due to its own original sins?
As someone who’s contributed to the Trans Visibility Industrial Complex, I’m particularly concerned with the answer to this question: I write this newsletter with trans4cis education as a goal and I give talks to companies and universities about how to be more trans accepting (book today!). At my most recent event, I decided to add a new slide to my talk explaining that, in the current climate, many trans people may not even choose to come out at work. I shared honestly that I wasn’t sure what my host, a green hydrogen company in Massachusetts, should even do about that, other than the limp offering that they should make sure that the trans resources they compile be made available to all employees, “just in case”.
I worry that this prospect—that trans people are seriously considering becoming invisible again—is too dark for a cis liberal audience whose main (only?) goal for the past ten years has been, by our own instruction, to increase our visibility. And yet, it must be reckoned with. The best piece of media I’ve yet found that explores this problem is Lily Alexandre’s “Trans Day of Vanishing”, which I’ve shared before. Like Alexandre, I doubt we trans people were too demanding or too confusing. Our requests were: respect for our dignity, legal protection from discrimination, health care, and mostly to be left alone. Not to mention the fact that thousands of hours with of patient, accessible “Trans 101” content have been produced over the past 10 years. We are possibly the marginalized community who is the most patient, the most willing to explain “our whole deal” to those who are curious.
But therein lies the problem: most people are not curious. Most are happy to passively believe the lies spread about us by conservative media. And even if they did do the reading, it wouldn’t matter. The barrier to what trans people need (hormones, surgeries) is not acceptance (getting everyone we can on board with the idea of giving us these things). We know this because we already have acceptance—a majority of Americans (55%) say they think “families and physicians should be the ones making decisions about transgender youth medical care, not the government,”—yet we’re losing our rights anyway. The problem is that public opinion is fully decoupled from public policy. Money talks, and Republican think tanks have a lot more money than we do.
Still, we shouldn’t deny the importance of interpersonal discrimination. It’s not like if we magically reversed the Citizens United decision then trans people would automatically be 100% safe. There’s one more issue to contend with, something even deeper: in modern America, trans people simply don’t have an easy-to-slot-in place in society. We lack meaning, purpose, dare I say destiny.
It’s worth acknowledging that “destiny” can be construed as a somewhat right-wing coded term. “It’s woman’s biological destiny to be a submissive baby-maker, men’s destiny to own her, etc.” Take the old conservative mantra on why men actually need to be toxic: “Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.” To conservative men, being “strong” (at worst, tyrannical, emotionless, unempathetic, warmongering) isn’t just one type of masculinity of which there are many valid types; it’s what all men must do to be part of a cosmic cycle, it connects you to history, to purpose. This hard-and-fast belief in the cosmic destiny of (cis) men and women is why trans people will never be accepted by conservatives as a whole, though some individual conservatives may conditionally accept a perfectly assimilated trans person (has had all the surgeries, fulfills their traditional gender role perfectly, rejects solidarity with all other trans people). Other than practitioners of liberational theology (King’s “moral arc of the universe” bending toward justice), the largely secular Left tends to push away from the entire idea of destiny, deeming it oppressive (women’s supposed “destiny” sure seems to be what is convenient to cishet white men).
However, even if you don’t personally believe in cosmic purpose, it’s undeniable that human beings need some kind of purpose. Since we’re not going to be handed one at birth by The Powers That Be, trans people should probably go looking for one. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs places “self-actualization” at the top of its pyramid (the last thing you need after your physical survival needs like food and shelter are established). However, this framework was directly inspired by Siksika (Blackfoot) teachings, which places self-actualization at the very bottom (the first thing you need). Above that are things not even displayed on Maslow’s chart, which seems to emphasize individual enlightenment as opposed to the Blackfoot needs: community self-actualization and cultural perpetuity.
This gives us a clue as to what the trans community may be lacking, which will help us as we seek next steps. First, self-actualization: as a trans person, what is your purpose here on Earth? You can decide this for yourself, but many have argued that trans folk are here as teachers. Trans therapist Sebastian Barr writes that cisgender people can learn a lot from us as a “blueprint of possibility” and as a guide for their own liberation…
I think trans people remind everyone that the rules are made up, that there’s more to life than institutions and rigid societies show us, that we ultimately do have autonomy, regardless of what the powers that be say. There’s so much you non-trans folks can learn from this. (This is why fascists hate trans people, by the way.)
Conservative gender roles need not be upheld to locate a place for trans people within it. Far from it, trans people are the balance-keepers of the world, preventing cis people from falling too far into these dimorphic conservative roles, a case I always make in my own speaking engagements…
Both our bodily changes and our general freedom from gendered rules highlight that what people think they know about sex and gender is constructed and ultimately as flimsy as you want or need it to be. We know that cis men’s wellbeing is affected by gender role pressure and socialization that promotes disconnection from emotion. We know that cis women’s wellbeing is affected by the misogyny that is enacted by gender hierarchies that assume immutable differences between men and women. And everyone’s mental health is affected by feeling pressure to perform inauthentic versions of ourselves. Trans people remind the world that there are ways beyond these oppressive and harmful systems and ways of relating to oneself and others. And we have done a lot of work to promote change societally that allows non-trans people to be more liberated from gender, as well.
Then, community actualization: relationships to each other and our elders, taking part in ceremonies, participating in mutual aid. When we’re separated from one another, we lose our place in reality and thus our own health. Writing about a time she asked Native communities in the Cheyenne River about poverty, Dana Arviso recalls…
“They told me they don’t have a word for poverty,” she said. “The closest thing that they had as an explanation for poverty was ‘to be without family.’” Which is basically unheard of. “They were saying it was a foreign concept to them that someone could be just so isolated and so without any sort of a safety net or a family or a sense of kinship that they would be suffering from poverty.”
Finally, cultural perpetuity: a sense of continuity for one’s community, that it has always been there and will always be there. For Indigenous communities, this can mean speaking your native language, stewarding your land, and sharing stories such as founding myths with new generations. Trans people are perhaps the most lacking in this category: we don’t have a shared founding myth or formative narrative, nobody can empirically say where trans people “come from”.
Fortunately, there’s one story that can ground us here. Tr4nbie, an interdisciplinary artist perhaps most known for Instagram meme-based commentary, recently put to words the idea that’s been swimming in my head since I first sat down at a Thanksgiving dinner table with a trans elder and a freshly-cracked egg: “We are all just one doll in the long line of dolls that extends as far as we can see in front of us, and reaches back as far as we can see behind us.” This brings into sharp focus the one thing that trans people all must do: survive. Survive at all costs, survive for the next generation.
Cultural perpetuity also seems to be the central theme in The Black Trans Archive, an interactive art piece that I personally consider to be the holiest place on the Internet. If you haven’t experienced the Archive, please set aside some time to do so as soon as physically possible. To avoid spoilers, I’ll just say that the piece touches on all three of these core human needs: self-actualization in the Hormone Tower, community actualization in the Gym and Spa, and cultural perpetuity in its stunning opening moments. Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley and her collaborators have truly created something amazing that goes beyond mere words. Full screen, headphones on, phone on DND, do it now. https://blacktransarchive.itch.io/transarchive
When we stick together, we are wealthier than any billionaire. In a previous essay, I attempted to outline what trans people believe about themselves and their purpose, referencing the 5 things required for a “tradition” to take place:
A Formative Narrative: Trans people have always existed, and our rich history has simply been erased by colonialism. Nonetheless, we will never go away, for we represent balance, fluidity, transformation, self-actualization, and resilience in defiance of all we have been through.
A Celebration of that Narrative: Coming together as a community to celebrate someone’s coming out, someone’s legal name change, someone’s first doses of HRT, and someone’s anniversaries of any of these. Trans Day of Remembrance, Trans Day of Visibility, attending Pride events, and pilgrimages to queer cultural centers like Stonewall.
Governing Laws & Values: We resist capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, colonialism, ableism, anti-Semitism, and everything else that marginalizes the weak to benefit the already-powerful. Trans people are meant to bring balance to all systems of power, including gender. All trans people, everywhere, are connected to one another across space and time, as long as they hold true to this mission and commit to divesting from systems of domination to the best of their abilities.
A Method of Disseminating Information: Talking to our elders, zines on safe sex, spreadsheets of which doctors to go to and which to avoid, tweets about how to shave to avoid razor burns, transition timelines, and archival projects about our own history.
A Method of Practicing Laws & Values: Mutual aid, centering & loving Black & Indigenous trans folks, walking each other home, protecting trans kids, lending each other hormones when we run out, t4t love, mentoring trans youth, holding each other to a high standard, and calling each other out/in when we promote racism, sexism, etc.
Maybe, with all of this, we’re luckier than we think.
Currently Reading
A new pre-print on ChatGPT use has everyone talking about education again. I’d like to reiterate my position that the education system incentivizes students to take shortcuts by devaluing critical thinking.
I’m switching to TIDAL since the behavior of Spotify’s CEO has become impossible to ignore. Join me, won’t you?
Watch History
Verity Ritchie’s new video essay on how fashion is depicted in sci-fi.
Addie LaMarr’s take on how social media warps our perception of public opinion.
Li Speaks’ kid-friendly deep dive into online safety.
Intelexual Media’s cultural reset on the state of sex positivity.
Annamarie Forcino’s hilarious commentary on a stride pride festival held last month.
Bops, Vibes, & Jams
Kesha’s new project “.” (pronounced “period”) is a fun romp! Fav tracks: “JOYRIDE.”, “DELUSIONAL.”
Lorde’s new album “Virgin” is covers everything from gender trauma to regular trauma. Fav tracks: all of them.
Great Grandpa’s “Patience Moonbeam” is the folksy album I always wanted. Fav tracks: “Task”, “Junior”.
And now, your weekly Koko.
That’s all for now! See you next week with more sweet, sweet content.
In solidarity,
-Anna