Black Woman? Black Man? Neither or Both? Intersections of Identity and the Social Sphere

I have been grappling with the intersection of gender identity and race lately. I feel as if the concept of gender is entrenched in the black community- if not the pillar of it. Roles have been defined for black women and black men and the socialization of black women vs. black men is intriguing. As I've come out as genderqueer I have found it difficult to imagine disassociating myself from black womanhood. So much is tied to a black woman's identity. The Struggle of a black woman --the burden on her back--the solidarity in calling each other "my sister" is something I have come to own and appreciate, slowly but surely. I feel that in taking on the trans identity and calling myself genderqueer that I am betraying my sisters in some way. I also feel that I am rejecting the women's spaces which I felt so comfortable in for years and years. I am becoming an outsider to the community of women of color that I fought so hard in the past to understand and be a part of and protect through my academic writing.

As I was accepting the fact that I am genderqueer...that I am masculine of center. That I may not have been socialized as your typical female and had always seen myself as androgynous or leaning more toward the masculine spectrum-- I began to panic. Well...that means I'm a black man! OHhhhhhh great! !@#$%^& Not only do I face oppression on so many other levels, but now I've got this new added burden of being perceived as a black man, should I choose to transition or present myself as male *which I've done for years now. Now I would have to routinely see white women clutch their purses and turn up their noses, and white men feel threatened/disgusted by my very existence. I did not, do not...want to be a black man.

But- unfortunately, I don't have much choice in the matter. And I'll explain what I mean- I am not a woman. I have the body of the woman but anyone who knows me or gets to know me will quickly find out that ...well, I'm not. I was not exactly socialized as a girl as a kid. My mother was this strong alpha-female who never said anything about people wanting to hold me back for being a black woman. She climbed the rungs of the police department slowly, steadily. In short, my mother was a warrior who did not let her femaleness identify her. She didn't revel in femininity, she didn't talk about feminist politics...in fact, she wasn't especially feminine except when she went undercover some nights.

I always saw myself as a boy. By the time I was around 6 or 7 and it was socially unacceptable to do "boy things" I started keeping this to myself. I let people call me "she" and "her" -- but it never really fit. Everyone assumed I was a tomboy. My stepfather and mother tried their hardest to make me dress like a little girl. I was actually punished by my stepfather for whistling among other things (which he thought was what boys do) and wasn't allowed to wear certain boyish outfits. They tried really hard...but, all that happened was that I repressed this and felt really disconnected from girls. I never really felt like a girl. I mean they told me I was a girl- and I tried to accept it. I tried to do the things that girls do...I always felt like I was in drag when I wore dresses. I just did the "girly" thing to fit in-- but in my senior year I chucked all that to the side and started wearing my flannel and plaid and corduroy and boy shoes...I have always felt more comfortable--read:more ME in men's clothing. It took me a while to realize that this was not just me trying to "genderf*ck" (once I learned this terminology) but that I, in fact, was genderqueer.

I let people tell me that I was a lesbian. I never really owned that label though, it just didn't fit though I found solidarity with female-bodied people who liked women. It took me a decade to realize that something was up with the fact that I thought women were ridiculous for not dating me because I'm "not a man". (chuckling to myself.) Let me try to explain that further. In my head- I was a man. Men accepted me as this mixture of male/female in the banking/financial industry that I worked in for 6 years. I grew into not wanting to wear the woman's dress code relatively quickly, since I felt like I was in drag and they accepted this and thought of me as one of the "boys". In my head...I was male.male.male. So when these straight women would flirt with me and then say "But I don't date girls." In my head this didn't compute. I mean, did they see what I was wearing?? I wasn't a girl! I was a strapping, handsome, young boi. And if they'd only date me, they'd figure this out. Well, they weren't buying it. I had no penis and as far as they were concerned---I was no man. Sigh.

In my lesbian relationships--I didn't take on a butch role. Read: I am not a butch or a stud or an AG. I really don't embody any of that particular type of masculinity. I just am a boi. I am devoid of femininity, except for my facial features,long eyelashes and tiny hands. (shrugs). I guess by the way I dress, people don't expect me to be a high femme. I'm not exactly oozing with femininity while wearing ties,vests,men's dress shirts, men's hats, and men's shoes. And when men hit on me- I honestly wonder what their deal is.

Anyways, sometimes people make assumptions about me being female- this is understandable. I mean, my face is feminine. Thinking waaaaay back, I started to wear more masculine clothes because a) I didn't like male attention b) it felt more like me and c) it balanced out my feminine face --thereby making me feel more like ME.

So back to assumptions. As I was coming out as genderqueer I wondered--well should I take hormones, should I get chest surgery? I didn't want to- but it seemed the only way that people would accept me for how I felt. Even though I don't feel like an FTM (female-to-male). Let me explain, I don't really trust this whole gender binary thing and I feel that if I own the label FTM that I am somehow owning this whole twisted social construct that is the gender binary. In doing that I would be saying--- well I am that M and not that F. I wholeheartedly accept what inkling of femininity I have coursing through this body. While I'm indifferent to my female parts- I do not reject or resent them, though I do sometimes feel guilty for binding them and stuffing objects in men's boxerbriefs to mask them (packing). But I only feel guilty for a second- then I feel empowered because I am being authentic. I am being ME.

Power. This was an issue for me---because well, I'm an anti-oppression facilitator and activist. Not to mention a feminist and womanist. Was I really buying into this whole power from masculinity thing?? This really tortured me for a long time. Was I subconsciously considering men to be worth more than women?? Deep down did I hate being female because of society's view on females and the oppression faced by females? Well- this takes me back to talking about the solidarity present between women of color. This also takes me back to all my friends that are women healers, curanderas,homeopaths,naturopaths,etc. who have tapped into their feminine power and use it daily. I don't hate that. I love that! And this is what has really, really made me sad. I don't want to leave those women's healing circles, drumming circles...etc. I don't want to be an outsider. I was watching the film "Still Black" (a film about black transmen) and I cried when one of the men said he visited women's spaces for a year --kind of as a goodbye. Yes, unexpected tears came down my face. I am so tied to women's spaces. I never wanted to give up the power inherent in being a woman.

And - sigh- I don't want to be a black man. Either way I will struggle. And skating the ice between the two genders seems like it will get me in trouble in some spaces as well. The transmen want to know why I still have breasts, why I don't take hormones--why am I so *gulp* feminine looking...why do I still identify with women of color...healing women. The feminists want to know why I pack...why I bind...why I consider myself masculine of center. The men want to know- why I even hang out with the women when I am so obviously one of them (male). Why I don't buy into (some) of their hypermasculinity. Why I don't like talking nonsense about women. I am an outsider to them too because I can identify with their (women's) plight and am intuitive and know why their girlfriends,wives,sisters are feeling what they are feeling. But this goes both ways because I have always understood men's thinking patterns (no matter how irrational it may seem at times) and while women have appreciated that I can do this- it has really put me on the outskirts when I myself do not possess the same ways of communicating and thought patterns and "socializing tendencies" of a woman. I just can't go there...I don't get it, if you will.

I am not completely any of them. I am not LGBT...I am not a woman...I am not a man...I flirted with the idea of being bigendered but then there goes that whole gender binary again. Agendered---meh. Andro-- but I'm masculine of center.

Basically there is no label for who I am ...except Toi. And maybe I feel guilty for being this unlabeled entity that moves through these circles with my fluidity. Now let me explain, I feel guilty because they all want me to take up allegiance to them and I am their ally but I am not exactly completely "them." In short, I belong to all and none at the same time. (Which reminds me that I need to blog about religion and spirituality soon---same tune).

Sigh. So I will continue to support women's spaces, hang out with men/transmen, and the queers who understand me the most, even knowing that I might be mistaken as one of "them"...I will purge this guilt in my heart. I will try my best to explain what I have explained to all of you who are reading this blog and to every single person that asks and is confused. I will try to keep an open heart and be full of compassion when clearly people think that I am an anomaly, a freak, a weirdo, not one of "them" any longer.

This is all I can offer:
Dialogue. Compassion. Authenticity.