The first time I remember it happening, was a Saturday morning. My wife and I were at Lowes, where a little girl in the bathroom, informed my wife that she (my wife) was in the women’s restroom. The girl was notifying my wife that she, my gym-clothes-clad, backwards-cap-wearing wife was in the wrong bathroom. The little girl’s mother, who was present for this exchange, said nothing.
More recently, at a restaurant in Boston, my wife went to the restroom while I waited for our food. Back at the table, she told me that another woman, upon entering the ladies’ room, held the door to the restroom open longer than usual, did a double-take, glancing at my wife, then at the “W” on the front of the restroom door, and said, “They should make the signs more clear.” Clearly surprised, at first glance, finding my wife washing her hands in the women’s bathroom.
It is important for you to know that these are not the only incidents; there are others. At times, these misgenderings can be subtle, accidental almost, and at others, they can be much more pointed, aggressive, accusatory. We seem never to fail to be more concerned about misgendering someone’s pomeranian, than another human being. The bathroom is a quiet place, a personal place, a place you least expect to be accosted or questioned, and therefore, are often the least prepared. At one point, I vowed I would always accompany my wife to the bathroom if we were out in public. This way, I could say something, I could have a come back prepared for the moment (patiently, “We’re all in the right place;” more aggressively, “We’re old enough to read”). Just when I believe that we’ve finally made it past these issues of humanity, they inevitably resurface, always at the moment that catches you off guard. And of course, the fact that my wife identifies as a woman cannot be ignored. This story carries different weight when you misgender a trans person.
I think the scariest thing about homophobia and transphobia is not that there are people who dislike others, who are scared of others, who are made uncomfortable by others, for there will always be people who don’t like other people for various reasons, but, that those definitions include those people who are perceived as such; they include those people who are perceived as trans, who are perceived as lesbian, gay, bisexual, pansexual, etc. You don’t even have to be those things. But when someone thinks you are and doesn’t like it, that’s when shit gets real.
Bathrooms aren’t the only issue in November for Massachusetts. The law, in my modest understanding of it, does not change the laws that already exist. It does not change the anti-discrimination laws in schools, in places of employment, in job application processes. It does not change laws in place to deal with hate crimes. What it changes is public accomodations. So, one can exist in one’s school, in one’s place of employment, in one’s home, just as one is or as one wants to be, but one may not be able to exist in libraries, restaurants, on the T, in shops. A ‘no’ vote in November means that people in Massachusetts will have a license to discriminate. There will be few to no protections against the discrimination of trans people in public places. And if you’re not trans, but someone thinks you are, that means it includes you, too.
For centuries, orators and politicians have used pathos to move their listeners to feel the passion, the emotion, in their argument. Our issue seems to be a kind of pathos. Politicians know that when people are emotional, they will be moved to vote. What contains more emotion than the female body? Than bodies that do not apparently match the parts underneath their clothes? Than people who love other people who look like them? Than children? Femaleness. Bodies. Love. Children. These are emotional things. Politics are not. In November, if you live in Massachusetts, let’s vote in favor of human beings. Do you know any human beings who want to be treated lesser than you?
Vote Yes on 3.
Alexandra Sladky 