Monday, August 10, 2009

Response to GenderKid

I have been reading the blog Genderkid ( for a while now and occasionally we comment on each others blogs, looking at my blog earlier I found this comment and as I wrote my response I found myself wanting to post it in a way that people would be more likely to see it-

Comment on the last blog post (Memories, 8/5/09):

"I really liked this poem. I haven't been in any situations like that, but I'm also afraid that, when I'm perceived as male, people will see me as menacing. They probably won't --I'm small--, but I still do my best not to look intimidating when I see a woman walking alone at night. Even if I'm just as scared as she is."
Genderkid (

"yea, I definitely try to be aware of how my perceived masculinity can effect women in ways that I may not even notice, because in many of the negative experiences I have had with men were not overt, but rather there are subtle ways that masculinity is enacted that establish men as dominant over women.

Also, I totally hear what your saying about being as scared as she is though, it is strange because the violence that is enacted on me is enacted and felt by me because of my female body, and yet I also participate in systems of masculinity that perpetuate violence.

I wonder is it possible to operate masculinity without playing into misogynist gender roles and privilege? "

The concept of transmasculine misogyny as well as the delicate relationship among transmasculine folks, masculinity, misogyny, and straight men is something I hope to continue to touch on with more posts, but I wanted to keep the discussion going.


Wednesday, August 5, 2009


Cotton Underwear, newly cleaned
5-year-old tighty whiteys
That was the first time.

Everything else is a blur
Until the words come to me at age 12
campfire, telling stories
take back the night

and then the blur comes back
photographs of memories
so much hard work to forget
but his body is always the same
spread out,
gripping onto doorways,
and bus seats, same pose, same male body stance
fighting back

I always managed to get away, after that first time
And I thought it couldn’t happen again
And I thought it couldn’t happen with a woman
Until that sweaty afternoon when I told her to stop.
but I never fought back when she didn’t.
She couldn’t have done it, she said she loved me.

And now as my body becomes more like his
I know that it is the subtle movements become my memories
I fear that I am creating these memories for others.