Gender in Quarantine
Before I dive in I want to share a quote from a 2017 piece: Trans Liberation, not Assimilation by an anonymous writer as an acknowledgment that so much of the language used in our day to day lives (as well as in this piece) is a product of the colonized idea of gender that has caused harm to our communities for so long.
“Even the term transgender is a colonialist way of defining that which is undefinable: i.e. it erases pre-colonial histories of people of color all over the world and devalues and replaces terms that contain unique meanings and histories, like hijra (India), mahu (Hawaii), muxe (Mexico), wakashu (Japan), and the asog (Babaylan) or transekswal (Philippines), with the rhetoric of a single English word. Most aboriginal nations would not consider that being transgender is neither playing into masculine nor feminine roles but rather is the sacredness of having a body with more than one spirit.”
As a trans actor and photographer going through the all too familiar experience of the 20-something-creative — navigating the mounting desire for a sustainable life (decent healthcare, expendable income & the ability to redistribute wealth, a job that provides a reliable salary and benefits, etc) alongside the drive to push forward in my creative careers that I spent the entirety of my post undergrad adult life cultivating — COVID shutting down the NYC Theatre industry in early 2020 left me with over a year to ponder the things that matter to me and the type of life I want to lead. I, like so many people, find myself at a potential turning point unsure of what comes next.
In this uncertainty I found myself connecting with my community more than ever. Hungrier than ever for the thoughts and voices of people who have been silenced for so long, especially within the theatre industry where I spent the last five years building a home. This, in conjunction with personal questions coming up within myself about my gender and the way I experience the world lead me to want to create a space where trans people could tell their own stories. To amplify, document, and uplift- hopefully creating something that someone somewhere will benefit from seeing.
In creating something for and by trans folks I want to be clear on the intent of the piece and for that reason I am going to revisit the title of the article from the quote at the start of this piece:
Trans Liberation, not Assimilation.
The conversation regarding how to decenter oppressors within liberation movements is ongoing, especially as TGNC people gain more agency largely thanks to personal social media pages where their voices can be heard. For me it begs the question: With the ever-expanding community accessible to us via the tiny screens we scroll through every night, how do our identities shift and grow? TikTok has facilitated and documented gender awakenings over the last year where folks, mostly Gen Z and younger, spent time rethinking their identities, presentations, pronouns, and more. With this rise in accessible representation come terms like “normalization”. Thoughts like “we need to normalize pronouns” or “normalize gender nonconformity”, but we want Liberation, not Assimilation. We don’t want to be normalized, to be colonized or inducted into mainstream culture. We want liberation. We want protection. We want healthcare, housing, job security, and accurate representation. When people like Harry Styles, or more recently Kid Cudi who wore a dress on SNL, break away from typical gender norms it does, in the broader sense, add positively to the conversation about gender presentation. But when cis men are continually uplifted and celebrated for their “brave” fashion choices as our government works to pass legislation in various states across the country that would make it illegal for parents to support their trans children, does any of that matter? In a sense we are being normalized, assimilated, so much so that our struggles are being erased as affluent cis people pick and choose what seems the most fun about our identities and leave the rest of us, the parts that need housing, financial support, and community funding to rot. We don’t need to be normalized, watered down, or made nice for cis consumption. We need to be protected. We need a broader awakening from self-proclaimed allies: to support trans people is to be against all of the systems that would rather us assimilate than be liberated.
I know the work that I do now — regardless of what I grow to be — as an actor, as a photographer, as someone who uplifts the voices of those smarter than me — as an individual — wont make a dent in solving these issues. They are ingrained in our society, in the way things have to be for the white cisheteropatricary to keep power. If I have one hope for anything I create including this piece of Photojournalism it is that it be an addition to the work being made for and by trans folks, and that in a time of such evil oppression someone somewhere may take comfort in seeing themselves represented and celebrated without being curated for a cis audience.
Going into this project I was not entirely sure what the end result would be; would I ask everyone the same questions, would I be able to navigate my own financial and time constraints in creating something for the sake of creating alone? In my dream world I can afford to rent a studio for a week creating a piece that features hundreds of people. Trans people, like every marginalized group, are not a monolith; there is no one experience or truth, and wanting to amplify that reality became the overarching theme for this tiny window into the worlds of five people navigating their lives and their genders after such a tumultuous year.
Below are photographs of five TGNC folks along with some of what they shared.
Joey
(they/them)
“I definitely do think that being out of the eye of society had some affect on my gender identity. Not so much that I discovered something “new” about myself, but that I possibly became more comfortable with myself without the pressure of constantly being perceived.”
“I think that the isolation allowed me to explore new vocabulary and find people who I relate to like- “Oh, that is what I am!” or “This is what I feel like I look like”. Something that really helped was seeing trans and nonbinary people on social media talk about their experience. Their stories really resonated with me and I felt like “Oh, that’s why I feel the way I do, and its ok.” I also think being away from the theatre industry has been a big factor for me as well. I felt like I was always taught to strive to look a certain way and act a certain way; I have been told countless times “Do you only want to play gay roles?” “You act too feminine, no one is going to cast you.” “You need to be more butch if you want to work.” OR “You have to work on how you speak and walk. You walk too gay and speak like a woman.” SO, naturally, I have always strived to look and act like the perfect “gay man” or “cis white man” because I all want to do is work in theatre. (Yes, it does sound very unhealthy). I kind of rejected the parts of myself that made me feel comfortable and at home in my body because I wanted jobs. Being away from a serving job where I have to wear a button down and tie was helpful too. I could never do my hair how I wanted. Never have my nails done. Always being in a very transphobic and homophobic environment was really eating away at me. I definitely feel more in my skin now than I have before. I think the freedom away from work, societal norms, and pressures to conform have been wonderful for me.”
“Looking up other people who were nonbinary like Jeffery Marsh and Mason Alexander Park really affirmed my gender identity. Seeing their pictures or video’s online, and even reading Jeffery’s book, was really affirming to me. Looking back to times before; seeing pictures of Alan Cummings in Cabaret or watching HEDWIG or ROCKY HORROR growing up really made me feel like “That’s what I look/feel like”.
“A big moment of euphoria for me during quarantine actually happened because of my mom. She is a nail technician and she was doing her nails and I asked if she would do mine too. At first we were like “Sure, we aren’t going anywhere, why not?” but then she just kept doing my nails and I just felt so beautiful. I have always wanted to ‘look’ like my mom since I was a kid. She always has her nails done. She wouldn’t do my nails when I was young because “boys don’t have long nails”, but here she was doing my nails and it just made me feel so good, and I think it made her feel good too. Also, when I was younger, I would wear her heels and I would put on her makeup and her dresses and I just remember feeling so powerful. I still wear her clothes, and I still feel powerful in them. My hair growing longer than I’ve had it in a while was also very affirming to me too. Seeing myself with long hair in the mirror just feels right.” — “I don’t think the euphoria necessarily comes solely from appearance stuff. I think the way we talk or move in our bodies is super euphoric as well. I hate having to walk/talk ‘like a man’ or whatever that means. Can’t I just walk and talk how I do? Going to the store with a mask on and being gendered differently was also a wonderful and beautiful experience. When someone said ‘excuse me ma’am’ my heart pitter pattered. I am not a ma’am, but I am also not a sir, but anything other than ‘sir’ just feels good. Something about the mask made people in the midwest actually look at me more clearly and more correctly.”
“I feel silly because it is a very interesting feeling to put into words. I feel words like “beautiful”, “right”, “powerful”, and “good”, don’t really describe gender euphoria how it should. For me, it’s a feeling that kinda starts in the chest, like butterflies, then trickles down into my stomach and then back up to my head. It feels like taking a cookie out of the jar, but wanting to get caught. I hope that doesn’t sound corny, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”
Sagan
(they/them)
“I’d been toying privately with names for maybe a year or two, mostly trying them at coffee shops or with takeout and online orders, and seeing how I felt. Downside of that was when I could feel judgment when the name was called or confusion when I gave a name that was very gendered male. The funny thing is that I think subconsciously I started the list a long time ago as a “when I have children” list but I don’t think I even realized that there weren’t any traditionally female names. And I think a part of the struggle for me was also when I ventured into conversations with other people about different names, it felt like SUCH a vulnerable moment, that if the response from someone close to me was anything close to disdain, it really put me off. I put way too much stock behind whether or not my people “liked” a name. When I really should have focused on the fact that if it felt good to me, and I made it my name, it simply WOULD BE MY NAME, and people would need to respect that. Of course, it’s gets further complicated by the fact that any names I’m choosing in English, I had to unpack the desires behind that, the assimilation vibes, etc. I was told a lot that I needed to move away from “white boy” names, and while I understood the intent, I also secretly relished in the idea that I could completely upend someone’s idea of what an “Everett” or a “Beck” looked like, you know? For a few months I tried to land on a Chinese name, and grappled a lot with the implications of that with my acting career. To be honest, I was afraid. I knew that having a “foreign” first name in addition to my last name was going to make things tougher for me, and I honestly wasn’t ready to handle adding that on top of the explaining and thinking I already felt like I had to do about my gender every time I had an audition or a gig.”
“I really liked the name Sage, and I liked the way it was the color green- my favorite, but slating my name as Sage Chen felt clunky, and I started really liking the way Sagan Chen sounded and looked. Plus — the associations with Sagan were mostly about Carl Sagan, which seemed wholesome enough for me. Haha — plus, informally it gets defined as “billions and billions of stars” in honor of him, which I love! Starting to ask other people to use it was scary, and I definitely parsed it out little by little. My roommates came in super clutch for sure. From the moment I mentioned it there wasn’t a single slip up. Plus the pandemic meant I wasn’t really meeting new people as often as I used to. I remember REALLY clearly actually — meeting a liquor rep when I stopped by my neighborhood liquor store, and having a nice chat with him about whiskey, and at the end of the interaction I asked him what his name was, and it was Carl — and he asked me and the name “Sagan” just came tumbling out. Then he said “Nice to meet you, Sagan.” And I left, and inside I was FREAKING OUT.”
“I will say that during lockdown not having to wear clothes to present any specific way for society was freeing — I have a tendency to bind WAY too often and WAY too long everyday. When I moved to Brooklyn last September I tucked away all of my older clothing marketed towards women and haven’t unpacked or worn any of it since. Ordering clothing marketed towards men and getting to try things on at home and be affirmed by my roommates was a nice safe way to try new gender affirming clothing out.”
“I have to be honest, I’m still struggling with trans joy! Some moments I can recall include theater collaborators entrusting me with roles that mainstream/commercial casting refuses to see me as. That’s been nice. I think the most important thing has to be just to not be afraid to try. Try that shirt, try that name at a random coffeeshop, try safely approaching conversations with loved ones, try packing or tucking or binding or makeup or wigs or asking for different terms of endearment — and trust your gut that what you feel is true to you. Just because your transmasc friend likes to bind doesn’t mean you have to. If lipstick doesn’t make you feel pretty, don’t wear it. If your partner isn’t ACTIVELY supporting you in your exploration, have a conversation and let them know how you would like to be supported. I know it’s so much easier said than done, but as someone who has had to trial and error their way through the doing, I know I’m better for it.”
Omi
(he/him)
“My favorite way to describe my gender is with the word “prettyboy”. I’m very sure of myself as a gay man, and it’s partly because I’m gay that I love embracing femininity when it comes to my gender presentation. This, coupled with my decision not to go on hormones, at least for the moment, often leads people to become confused because when I tell them I’m a man- they immediately assume I want to fit the cishet ideal of that (usually cishet people, but some cis lgb people I meet can have this problem as well). So because I don’t fit their idea of what a man ought to be, they refuse to even try to see me as one. I try not to be bothered by it but it’s hard when it’s someone close to you.”
“In 2017 I came out to my school and my parents as a trans man in a monologue I’d written and performed in a school showcase. I said very explicitly in the monologue that I’m a man who likes to wear skirts and nailpolish. My dad understood what I was saying, and though it took him time he has come around to using my correct pronouns and has been extremely supportive of me getting top surgery. My mother however has been pretty much the opposite. Since performing that monologue I felt like I was finally free to dress as femininely as I wanted while still being acknowledged and understood as a man, so I did just that. I guess my mom chose to interpret that as me finally presenting as a woman, so when I told her I was getting top surgery she was very upset and felt blindsided, as if I’d never come out to her at all. So now I feel I have to walk this line of presenting masculinely enough around certain people to not have my identity questioned while also trying not to betray myself.” — “It makes me feel constricted and limited trying to figure out how much of myself I’m allowed to be in any given situation. I shouldn’t have to downplay who I am just to be respected not only as a man, but as an adult who knows what he wants and can make his own choices.”
“Quarantine for me has been strange, really. I got a job back in August that has kind of forced me back into the closet. I didn’t say anything about being trans in my interviews because I knew I didn’t pass and didn’t want to be rejected because of it, and since then I’ve had a hard time telling my coworkers. Contrast this with the acting work I was doing before quarantine, where I felt much safer being out, especially since for many auditions I knew walking in that the auditors would know I was trans, which allowed me to feel much more self-assured because I knew I didn’t have to explain myself to them. For me quarantine has largely meant having less opportunity to be myself because when I do leave the house it’s usually to go to work where almost no one actually knows who I am.”
“Whenever I go somewhere that isn’t work, I try to affirm myself by presenting my gender in the way that feels best for me, whether that’s a skirt and fishnets, or a crop-top and jeans. On occasions where I could really use a gender euphoria boost, I’ll spend some time just going through my clothes, dressing up in my favorite things, and having a little photoshoot for myself. Being home with my dad also helps since I get to hear him gender me correctly. I’m hoping that it’ll be easier for people at work to accept that I’m trans should I decide to come out to them since I look more “like a man” now.”
“I’m definitely looking forward to this summer! My dad has concerns about me going topless in public because of potential bigotry, but I won’t let that stop me from fully enjoying the beach. As for recovery, I’m feeling great! I’m two weeks post-op now, and I got my drains taken on out on Tuesday! I’m so immensely happy to look at myself in the mirror now, and I’ve noticed that I’ve even felt less dysphoric about other parts of my body like my hips, which in the past have been a huge source of dysphoria for me.”
JJ
(they/them/he/him)
“A recent moment of euporia was taking my shirt off in Central Park for the first time and, my goodness, the breeze was miraculous. I felt so wholly myself but also so sure that someone would come yell at me. I was so nervous that I kept crossing my arms over my chest. It was very clearly right for me but I was afraid of how others would react.”
“I feel like I am asking myself when I don’t correct someone on my pronouns; what are you waiting for or why do you think you don’t deserve the small breadcrumbs of just being seen as you are? And I think I am determined to become my biggest advocate, to be seen and referred to as just myself. Ultimately, we’re asked to take simple needs — like your friends referring to you with the right pronouns — and feel like we should be exponentially grateful when they’re met. I AM grateful for every time that happens but I want there to be room for trans youth who don’t see that as extraordinary, they see it as incredibly mundane because it is simply accurate.”
“It was so strange to live alone directly after surgery for a few weeks. Honestly, it sucked. I was finally feeling in some ways like more “me” and no one was around. I saw no one. I was in so much pain, but I couldn’t be seen! But I learned how little I need it to be seen by others. Quarantine forced me to internalize everything for myself, without the validation of someone else seeing my identity. I was fully my trans nonbinary self every day learning and exploring more of myself alone. And that’s felt super powerful. I think I always felt like I needed my tranness mirrored back to me by cis people for it to be valid. I’m still learning to let go of that in certain moments but it felt like an immediate paradigm shift in that idea. All the exploring and juicy lovely bits of gender I find in myself are for me and only me.”
_________________________________
Irene
(she/her)
“During quarantine I was able to disconnect the notion of my womanhood “requiring” makeup. Now I am comfortable existing as myself without that once necessary armor at work, in public, with friends, wherever. The time alone helped me embrace my naked face and find beauty in it just how it is! I have also learned that, for me, surgery is not a quick fix for body image issues. During quarantine I was lucky enough to have two gender affirming surgeries which have made me feel at home in my body for the first time but concurrently, I have been struggling immensely with an eating disorder and am experiencing the most body dysmorphia that I have in my life. So healing from that in quarantine and living that dichotomy has been interesting.”
“Quarantine was hard in the beginning, but now I am almost thankful for some of the downtime. In general, I don’t like time off, so at first I tried to work as many shifts as I could because it has been a good distraction from mental health issues in the past. Unfortunately, work started really triggering my ED, and I was completely running on empty. I finally hit a wall and broke down in front of my boss. I was able to step away for a couple weeks and assemble a care team, which I am extremely thankful for. If it weren’t for this strange time with employment and the pandemic, I wouldn’t be able to take time off to actively take steps toward recovery and healing. Personally, I don’t feel like COVID had an impact on how everything manifiested, I had been struggling with food for a couple years and I think this was unfortunately going to come to a head either way. I definitely think the time I was isolated may have sped up the process due to the sudden elimination of the extreme NYC schedule I was used to.”
“Before my gender surgeries, I think I was placing my body dysmorphia on my gender dysphoria’s shoulders; as in, I thought gender affirming surgeries could “cure” my body dysmorphia. Of course, this didn’t happen, and my body image issues only grew worse after that expectation fell through. I feel extremely lucky now though, because I was able to use the down time during COVID to get a few gender affirming procedures done, so my gender dysphoria is currently at an all time low! I also finally gave myself full permission to invest in laser hair removal. Facial hair is incredibly triggering for me, and definitely the most consistent struggle I’ve had with physical gender dysphoria. Every time I go to an appointment I thank myself because I am taking a huge step toward fully realized gender euphoria!”
“Not every trans or nonbinary person has a need for gender affirming surgeries, but for those who do, these procedures are life saving. Period. There is a plethora of statistical data saying that suicide rates go way down when trans people have access to gender affirming care, it is very often a case of life or death. I would tell the people who want to limit or ban trans people’s access to care to look to the evidence that shows how necessary it is, and renounce the ignorant views that uphold a baseless gender binary within our delusional heteronormative society.”
Photographed, interviewed, and authored by Kat Griffin (they/them) @ Nonbinary_Eye on Instagram.
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