I had a conversation with a friend recently about gender construction (yes, this is what I talk about with friends) that reminded me of something I experienced last year. After it happened, I didn't share it with many people. I'm not sure why. Maybe I just never found the right platform to share the story. So, about a year later, I'm going to share my "gender-bending" experience here. But first, the obligatory word from our sponsor:
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My last semester as an undergraduate, I enrolled in a women's studies course. At the beginning of the semester, there were five of us guys in the class. Within a week or so, that number dropped to two (maybe after the other three discovered taking a women's studies class wasn't the best way to "score").
I loved the class, but of course I did, since I'm a gay pinko commie who's interested in the history of sexuality. There was just one part of the coursework I wasn't looking forward to: the "gender-bending" experiment. Gender-bending is when you purposely transgress socially accepted gender roles. Everybody in the class had to either do a gender-bending experiment of their choice or write a long essay. Of course, in many ways, openly identifying myself as a man who sleeps with other men is, in and of itself, something of a gender-bending exercise. But my professor apparently wanted something more than that. I was a little nervous about the whole idea, but the thought of having to write another essay on top of everything else I had to do drove me to take the gender-bending route.
Some students did pretty lame experiments. One girl went a day without makeup (horror of horrors!). As a male, I struggled to come up with an idea that would be obvious enough to get a reaction and safe enough to avoid being in physical danger. Finally, I decided to borrow a purse from my friend and walk down the street while wearing it. I'd probably get a few judgmental looks, and I'd write a reflection for my professor on the closed-mindedness of some people. Simple enough, right?
I really should have known better than to walk down the street with an obnoxious purse dangling from my shoulder. Having grown up gay, and having been educated in the worst way about gender lines, I should have known it was a somewhat dangerous undertaking. This is all well and good as I look back on this gender-bending exercise in hindsight. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly fine idea. I would walk in broad daylight on a well-traveled street not far from my apartment. And this was the city, not the sticks. Apparently the professor thought it was a good idea, too, because she enthusiastically gave me approval to proceed.
So, one day, I grabbed the purse, put it on my shoulder, and headed outside. Almost immediately, I started getting reactions. Some girls on the other side of the street giggled as they passed. A few people did double takes and kept walking. One woman told me, "Nice purse!" As I continued on my walk, a small group of teenage boys passed me, obviously taking interest, but not saying anything. When I turned around to see if they had a reaction after they passed, I saw they were laughing and mimicking me walking with the purse. I heard one of them say, "Gayyyyy."
Almost nobody had no reaction. I either got blatant mockery or double takes and looks of judgment.
By now, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I knew I would find some amused onlookers, but I wasn't prepared for the amount of hostility I felt.
Then, it happened. I don't know why I didn't see it coming, but I didn't. It came like a punch to the gut: "Faggot!" The slur came from a passing car that appeared to be full of fairly young, college-aged guys. My visceral reaction was to flip them off.
A few minutes later, when I thought the car was long gone, I heard what sounded like, "Hey faggot! Suck my cock, faggot!" It was the same car, which had apparently made a turn and come back to taunt me some more.
At this point, I was more than a little nervous. Even walking in the middle of the day with plenty of witnesses, I felt like I was in serious danger. Like a complete idiot, I had done this experiment alone, so here I was, walking by myself, a few blocks away from my apartment, wearing a purse while I was getting circled by a car full of homophobes. Awesome. Great move, Chrislove. You're a smart cookie.
When I saw the car turn a couple of streets down, I assumed it was planning on making a return trip, so I ran (yes, ran...and Chrislove doesn't run often) down a side street, then made another turn, hoping to throw the car off. Apparently it worked, because I didn't see the car again.
I went right back to my apartment as fast as I could. I don't remember getting any more shit on the way back, but I was walking so fast and in such fear of the car appearing again that I didn't pay anybody much mind.
I learned a lot that day. One, I learned to think things through and not do stupid shit. Two, I learned that my city wasn't nearly as progressive as I thought it was. Three, I learned (again) how concrete our constructed gender lines really are. I mean, here I was, in a city whose main street was filled with homeless people begging for money, and people were more shocked and appalled that there was a man walking down the street wearing a purse. It really drove home in a small way, for the first time since I was bullied in middle school, how truly dangerous the world is for gender- and sexually-nonconforming people.
My experience did earn me extra credit points, though...
Now, On To The Top Comments!
A special thanks to this week's Top Comments contributors!
cany submitted this comment by xxdr zombiexx in Joan McCarter's diary "regarding the incestuous relationship between a sponsor of Politico's awards."
From Ed Tracey:
In the diary by journeyman about today's anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor seventy years later - This old man recounts his experiences on that day (and after the war).
From sardonyx:
In the excellent diary "Your dreams are kind of shattered" by indiemcemopants, a very thoughtful comment from TiaRachel.
After reading Joan McCarter's front-page post When punditry fails: Rep. Paul Ryan is Politico's health care policy-maker of the year, FraidKnot asked a simple question.
Joan McCarter also had a story on another of Politico's policy-maker awards, even more questionable than the one above, which inspired this comment from xxdr zombiexx.
From smileycreek:
In Chris Bowers' New Rick Perry ad has 30,000 dislikes on YouTube and counting, citizenx wonders, What is the opposite of viral? and Setsuna Mudo may have coined a new meme with:
Spiral. As in, death spiral.
(Check out the diary to see what the up-to-date dislike count is...it now stands at 56,857 dislikes.)
In the same diary, davehouck gave the perfect written response to YouTube as to why this video constitutes hate speech.
And from yours truly, Chrislove:
NYFM makes a funny (and accurate) observation about Texas governors and their squintiness in Chris Bowers's diary about how much YouTube viewers hate Rick Perry's latest anti-gay campaign ad. Hey, if you haven't already, why don't you head on over to YouTube and "dislike" the ad?
Thomasina made me smile with her kind, heartfelt words to ISHKABBIBLE in the latter's diary A story I wrote about my depression.
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