Google the term, “transgender,” and there is a wiki site that purports to help a person to decide if he or she is transgendered.
There is a graphic of a young woman holding a toy truck and a young man holding a doll.The author tells us that boys who chose dolls are not identified as male.
Girls who play with trucks…well, it is self-explanatory. These images create a very rigid narrative, and people who find themselves preferring non-stereotyped activity are questioned. It goes on to say that if you chose these toys, you are expressing a binary identity.
What fucking rubbish!!
Play into archaic sex-role stereotypes why don’t you!!
Many an afternoon, Janet and I were content to take dozens of Dinky toys onto my gravel driveway, and with our bare hands, scoop out roads for the cars and trucks to travel along. Cities filled with schools and shops, parks and houses. We did not stop to think of ourselves as boys. We were Builders of Empires.
As my father did not own or drive a car (oh my…what a girl!) we were left all day to imagine our worlds with our powerful drive for control and domination. No real car to interrupt our imaginary kingdom on the driveway. My father would walk past and smiled at our miniature world. There was no Wiki writer to spoil our vision, to upset our identification, to tell us we were identifying as boys. My Word! Could Janet and I have been true revolutionaries? Rejecting the Binary? Maybe we were boys with vaginas?
Hey Janet, did you ever tell me that when you shared your mother’s sex ed lecture about bleeding between our legs that was coming soon to a body near you! The Bleeding was kind of a frightening and mysterious shroud that made us women; I never thought to ask if boys had it too
Back to the graphic narrative…..it also says that a person is never too old to act on their identification with the opposite sex. Above the man’s head is a large light bulb, implying that eureka moment that only geniuses and Oprah Winfrey must have. For Janet and I, we were never thinking about our gender identification. We were simply kids trying out life, in every permutation we could create.
Of course, we knew we were girls; the requirement to wear a skirt to school pretty much verified that designation for kids like Janet and me.
We did not choose our dress code, but when we arrived home, the skirt was dropped on the floor and pants were pulled up to our waists in its place. Easier to play in, and we didn’t get our underpants dusty in the gravel.Trucks for boys. Phooey.
Trucks for boys……Phooey.