The naming of parts

Or, rather – what words can you use when the words typically used don’t make sense for the person you are? And how do you communicate those words to others?

To be less obtuse – for the trans person who would like to avoid the traditional labels for their genitalia – what are the options out there?

It’s not something I’d really given much thought to, being a rather vague and romantic person – hazy and/or humorous seems the way forward in general conversation. And double entendres and bad puns do, sadly, make me smile. Regardless of whether someone is cis or trans, male/female/both/other – it seems only polite to follow their lead in what words to use. Language being, after all, malleable and ever-expanding, and bodies, at the end of the day, unique and fragile and fundamentally separate from the signifiers used to refer to them – no matter how many times those signifiers have been pressed into our psyches.

I also thought that a central tenet of feminism was the deconstruction of the kyriarchal systems of demarcation within language, particularly gendered language. And, of course, bodily autonomy. So it actually left me laughing when I saw that some self-proclaimed “radical feminists” (really?) thought it worth their time to compose a list of terms trans guys use to describe their genitalia, and to pontificate on the wickedness contained therein. I won’t link to the blog GenderTrender as it really is rather nasty – but I will quote the list in full – look how imaginative people are!

Junk

Stuff

Fred

Nethers

It

Them

Those

That

Neo Phallus

Neo

Nightsaber

Box

Vag

Muff

Crotch

Downstairs

Bits

Private Parts

That Thing

Downstairs Bits

The Short and Curlies

Jewels

Gems

My Royals

Shorty

Hanging Bits

Dicklet

Cock

Front Hole

Tranny Cave

Bonus Hole

Cockpit

Plumbing

Manhole

Male Slot

Boyhole

Tranny Cock

Clit Dick

Mangina

Up Front

Down There

Guy Pie

I think “Nightsaber” is my favourite – an allusion to Star Wars with a general air of trashy romance novel? Perfection.

I know this is a bit of a silly post, but I wanted to make a more serious point – that one of the things I love most about being trans, and about other trans people, is the constant overall transition from dysphoria and suffering into beauty and celebration. From the physical substance of our bodies, to the philosophies and systems that those bodies mutate and enrich – it may begin from a place of pain, but where it ends is somewhere truly glorious. We’re a continual reminder of the diversity of Nature – the unstable element that keeps things in motion. Like the archetypal figures of The Fool or The Trickster God – a threat to the fixed order of things, and a prompt to the repetitious “why?”

Just think – all of that just from allowing ourselves to freedom to use language in our OWN service, rather than that of the powers that be. Doesn’t that make you happy?

So, in that sprit – any awesome terms that were left off that list? Trans women, genderqueer people – anything to add? And in solidarity – I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours – after the jump…

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A reason to get up in the mornings

And to keep getting up, every single morning, and working and working and working until a group of trans people can have a quiet drink in a pub WITHOUT a total stranger thinking it appropriate to shamelessly ask for their picture.

After that? Then we have to get up to celebrate.

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May 1st, 2011 – Uphill Sessions

It's not the kind of posture to aspire to

Hello lovelies – you know the drill. I’m performing at the Uphill Acoustic Sessions on May 1st – 7pm onwards on a glorious London evening. There’ll be cookies. And bitching. And whisky, and general wit. I think you’d like it. You should definitely come. After all – what might we be saying behind your back?

The Harrison

28 Harrison Street

WC1H 8JF

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Trans-Jactivist Carrot Cake

Oh, did you hear the news? The Royal College of Psychiatrists has just announced the cancellation of the “Transgender: Time to Change Conference.” Do you know what goes well with the sweet, sweet taste of justice? Carrot cake, that’s what.

The lovely Paris Lees has already been kind enough to share her recipe for Julie Bindel Lemon Drizzle Cake – and, I must say, it’s sweeter and more delicious than that  journalist’s writings will ever be. As a playful kind of riposte to that particular “rad fem” crowd’s insistence  on faux biological absolutes and love of transphobic slurs, I present to you the Trans-Jacktivist Carrot Cake.

I'm in your cake-tin, destabilising the fixed sweet/savoury binary.

Some outdated and unimaginative people insist that carrots and cheese are only for savoury dishes. Nonsense. By ignoring irrelevant cultural tropes, these ingredients have followed their true calling and transitioned, if you will, into one of the loveliest desserts you could ever hope to taste. So call your activist friends around, and get baking.

For the cake, you will need:

• 350g carrots, peeled and grated (or use a food processor)
• 3 eggs, beaten
• 225g soft dark brown sugar
• 125ml oil (something with no particular flavour, like sunflower)
• 225g plain flour
• 4 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp mixed spice (vary to taste – a little extra cinnamon, ginger or nutmeg can be lovely)
• 50g desiccated coconut
• 75g raisins or sultanas

1) Preheat your oven to 150C and line a brownie pan.

2) Mix all the ingredients together. That’s it. Done.

3) Pour into pan and bake for around 40-45 minutes. You’ll know when it’s done – it’ll spring back when touched and a skewer inserted into the centre will come out clean.

4) Leave to cool.

Don't eat it yet! There's more deliciousness to come.

For the cream cheese frosting:

• 300g icing sugar
• 50g room temperature butter
• 125g full-fat cream cheese
• Flavouring of your choice – I’m fond of orange zest, but lemon zest, lime zest or vanilla are all excellent options.

1) Mix together until smooth with an electric mixer.

2) Spread lovingly onto the cake. Don’t forget the love – it makes everything taste better. Sprinkle liberally with glitter.

3) Spend busy day saving the world. Come home. Put feet up. Reward yourself with cake. And repeat.

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Grandstanding or transphobia? : The Royal College of Psychiatrists’ “Time to Change” Conference

Currently ignoring their own motto "let wisdom guide"

If you’re a member or ally of the London trans community, no doubt you’ve already heard of the planned “Transgender: Time to Change” conference, hosted by The Royal College of Psychiatrists. Hell, you may have the concurrent protest marked in your diary. Brilliant articles on the suspiciously transphobic nature of this conference have already been written by Jane Fae and Natacha Kennedy – if you haven’t already then rush rush rush to read them. The issue that’s been troubling me the most though, to be totally honest, is not simply the transphobic nature of the event. It’s the fact that, for whatever combination of odious reasons, a transphobic, outmoded op-ed journalist has been invited to speak at a conference that claims to explore “…the most recent academic, clinical and contemporary thinking on transgender issues…”

Oh, Julie Bindel. The first time I came across her was in my late teens, when the sucker-punch of her hateful Guardian article made me feel, yet again, like an easy target for disgust and ridicule. Made me feel, in fact, just as the bullies throughout my schooldays had made me feel. Trying to take on Julie Bindel is, apparently, a right of passage for young trans activists. Frankly, I don’t see the point. There seems little to be gained by trying to engage with someone who has shown, time and again, that their groundless beliefs matter more to them than the wisdom and knowledge upon which any belief system should be based. And who, like a playground bully, replies to critiques of her work with arrogance, vitriol and, finally, cries of victimisation. The brick wall doesn’t care if you batter your head against it. But, I think, it is becoming increasingly necessary to engage with those cis people who hold Bindel up as any kind of expert on trans issues, and to explain just how inappropriate that action is.

I admit that, as a doctoral student in my twenties, my knowledge and experience of academic life is still in its infancy. But I was shocked to see the inclusion of a speaker whose “credentials” include neither clinical experience nor academic research. No training in any of the therapeutic or scientific fields related to the study of the mind: psychology, psychiatry, psychotherapy, counselling or neuroscience. No studies undertaken. No data analysed. No full literature review. No clinical practice. Nothing but a notoriety achieved through a dismissal of past and current research in favour of self-aggrandisement, juvenile taunts and deliberate misrepresentation.

I fully believe that there is a need for academics to be reminded of the “real-world” nature of their research – that to look up and realise the interconnected nature of our research with others’, and our research with actual lived experience provides an antidote to the idea of research for its own sake, or for the sake of career advancement. Regardless of the necessary paring down that comes with higher intellectual study, I feel that an holistic view and an open mind are necessary to remind ourselves of the purpose behind our work. To that end, it would have been entirely appropriate to invite representatives from the UK trans community to offer some perspective on how current treatment methods are viewed by trans people, what effects they have on our lives, and what criticism has been levelled at them. But to invite a cis journalist, whose hostile opinion of trans people is a sorry relic of some feminist thought of the 1970s and 80s, serves as much purpose as would inviting Richard Littlejohn to speak at an academic conference on improving health services for racial minorities.

So, why would they do it? I can’t think of an answer that doesn’t leave a bad taste in the mouth. Ignorance, perhaps? Inconceivable. Transphobia on the part of one or more of the organisers? Likely, given the presence of Dr Az Hakeem, and the response with which enquiries from trans people have been met. Or perhaps, like so many institutions today, The Royal College of Psychiatrists is more interested in dumbing-down for the sake of attention than the quiet and considered elevation of a subject, and in provoking shit-stirring arguments rather than setting up respectful, valuable debate.

I’ll see you at the protest.

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Trans beauty: Part Two

Well, this is going to depend on your definition of trans. But, for me, someone who’s spent their life twisting and exploring and fucking with gender? Someone boyish enough for Robert Mapplethorpe and Allen Ginsberg? Who came up with one of my favourite lines EVER?

 

As far as I’m concerned, being any gender is a drag.

 

I’d say that warrants an inclusion under the enormous and flawed umbrella of general trans-ness.

 

Oh my lord, those cheekbones

 

I spent hours as a teenager staring and staring and staring at pictures of Patti Smith, listening to Peace and Noise, Horses and Easter on obsessive loops, going crazy over The Coral Sea. And, yes – I do the same thing as an adult. Complete hero. The fearless, fuck-you spit, the extreme exposure of her vulnerability, painful tenderness – jesus. I’m off to read Just Kids again. Mind that you do the same.

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One thing I would like cis people to learn

It’s a thought that often comes to me, when talking to cis people about trans issues. I was giving some (hopefully) wise words about transphobia in the media to DIVA magazine today – and felt it again.

Do you understand that I haven’t come from the space you inhabit to the space I inhabit? That for you to think of a false transitioning is nothing like my decision to live honestly, and help myself accordingly? My gender is as simple as breathing. It may not be as common as yours, but it is perfectly and sublimely and thoughtlessly natural. My body needed and needs a little help – that’s all.

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