Many Hats

Any sufficiently unfamiliar technology...

My friend Erin made this hat. She made it with her hands and some sticks (or maybe a hook?), out of yarn that she also made with her hands. That pretty much makes it magic to me. Besides, I love blue, purple, and brown. Pink, not so much, but the pink on this hat comes in the form of a five-pointed star at the crown. That will redeem just about any color in my eyes.

When I saw it, I went through pretty much the same thought process I always do when considering items of clothing that appeal to me, but which are intended for women. It goes kind of like this: "Oh, cool! But that's a 'girly' thing. So what? So I can only use it for cross-dressing. Wait. Why?!"

Since I did not have a good answer (I never do), I accepted the hat. I finally wore it out on a walk last night, and the world did not end. I felt rather silly--not for wearing something "girly", but for worrying about the gender affiliation of a hat. It is just a (wicked awesome) hat; it is also a gender signifier, and no amount of eye-rolling will change that.

I have struggled for years to understand my complex and sometimes contradictory feelings about clothing and gender. Well, "struggle" is a strong word for it, but my nigh-complete ignorance of fashion does make this topic challenging to explore and discuss. I know what kinds of clothing I like, and some of those (e.g. skirts) are more commonly associated with women than with men in contemporary Western society.

Every once in a while--typically in winter--strangers will call me "Ma'am" or "Miss" even when I wear average, societally-approved masculine clothing. I do not bother correcting them anymore. When they hear my voice, they usually backpedal so hard that you would think they had mistaken me for an axe murderer rather than a woman.

"I'm sorry, Sir! I uh...didn't look too close." Long, awkward pause. "So, um...you like the Orioles?"

Those fumbling apologies are sometimes hilarious and sometimes annoying, but I really cannot fault those people for getting confused. By Western standards, I appear fairly androgynous--short, fine-boned, and not particularly hairy. I do not expect every single person I meet to successfully divine my gender from seeing half of my face between scarf and hat.

Ironically, my androgynous appearance sometimes causes me to shy away from dressing androgynously, which, all else being equal, tends to be my preference. Most people still look askance on men wearing anything that looks even remotely feminine to their eyes. While I could not care less about the disapproval of strangers, I really would prefer to avoid the confusion, the flustered apologies, and the jeers that come with wearing androgynous or feminine clothes.

At least two acquaintances have asked me if I prefer feminine pronouns after seeing me "dressed up" for the club. The answer was "no", but it pleased me that they asked at all. I have made peace with the fact that most people will never ask; they will make assumptions based on the clothes that I wear. Some will stare, some will stumble over forms of address, and some will mock. But, in the end, I get to wear this fabulous hat...and they don't.

The Legend of the White Snake

Shu Shian meets Xiao-Ching and Lady White.

The Year of the Snake always calls to my mind the legend of the White Snake. There are many versions of the story, but the one I heard as a child goes like this:

There once was a white snake who lived in the West Lake, beneath the Broken Bridge. She was captured by a peddler and sold to a young apothecary named Shu Shian, for the organs of snakes were useful as medicine. Shu Shian, however, took pity and released her instead.

She meditated long and transformed herself into a human woman, rescuing a little green snake from the fate that almost befell her. The green snake becomes her companion and also learns to take human form. Longing to repay her debt of gratitude, the white snake set out with the green snake, calling themselves Lady White and Xiao-Ching, to find Shu Shian.

They met on the shore of the West Lake during the Clear Brightness Festival. Shu Shian fell in love with Lady White and married her. Together they opened an apothecary, which became very successful thanks to Lady White's magic, Shu Shian's skill, and Xiao-Ching's cunning. They never turned away a patient, treating for free those who could not afford medicine.

One year, during the Dragon Boat Festival, a monk named Fa-Hai saw Lady White and recognized her true nature. He warned Shu Shian that his wife is not what she seemed. When Shu Shian refused to believe this, he instructed him to burn sulfur incense in his house and give his wife sulfur wine to drink, as is customary during that festival.

Not knowing any better, Shu Shian convinced his wife to drink the wine, causing her to revert to the form of gigantic white snake, which literally frightens the man to death. Lady White traveled with faithful Xiao-Ching to find a magical mushroom (yeah, yeah) that brought her husband back to life.

However, Fa-Hai came to confront Lady White for killing Shu Shian. He defeated her, in part because she was weak from her journey and being pregnant, and imprisoned her beneath the Thunder Peak Pagoda. There she delivered a son named Shu Meng-Jiao. Heartbroken, Shu Shian became a monk himself, leaving the child to be raised by his family.

When Meng-Jiao grew up, he passed the civil service exam and became an official, which was a pretty big deal in ancient China. Thus empowered, he went to the Thunder Peak Pagoda and wept endlessly for his mother's release The gods were so moved by Meng-Jiao's filial piety that they commanded Fa-Hai to reunite Lady White with her son.

I have also heard versions of the story where Xiao-Ching defeated Fa-Hai and compelled him to release her mistress, or where Lady White herself took down her foe with a magic flood. In each case, though, Lady White is the hero--one with a sidekick, no less!

Snakes are usually regarded as dangerous pests in Chinese stories, and women as weak or treacherous. Instead, Lady White and Xiao-Ching epitomize honor, courage, and loyalty. I guess I just like the stories that turn stereotypes on their heads? Or maybe there's something about snakes...

Skirting the Issue

Iggy Pop in a dress. Your argument is invalid.

I like skirts--long or short, on women or on men, on other people or on myself--so long as they are wide enough to permit free movement and have usable pockets. I like trousers that fit those criteria as well, and find them more suitable for some situations, but I still prefer skirts for on the basis of comfort and aesthetics.

A lot of people seem to have this mental block: they see skirts as women's garments, and cannot move past that. Men wear trousers. Women wear skirts...and trousers. Why are women permitted to wear both, but not men? They cannot be bothered to ask questions like that.

Maybe they just do not want to consider the likely explanation, which is misogyny. This is a very reductionist version: women wear skirts, men wear trousers, and women are inferior to men; it is good for women to strive for something above their station, therefore women may wear trousers; it is bad for men to sink to something beneath their station, therefore men may not wear skirts.

Other people can accept certain types of traditional men's skirts, such as kilts or sarongs, but only if one belongs to the culture that produced said garments. My partner's mother is convinced to this day that my partner's and my predilection for kilts is justified by our Irish American heritage. The number one question we get asked when we walk around in kilts is, "Are you Scottish?" After all, why else would a man wear a skirt? Is 'personal preference' that difficult to understand?

Yes, Utilikilts 'count' as skirts.

There are also people who embrace the idea of men wearing men's skirts--but only men's skirts made for men only! Strangers sometimes ask about my 'skirt', only to be corrected by other well-meaning strangers: "It's a kilt, not a skirt!" That strikes me as similar to insisting that blue jeans are not trousers. The obsession with framing men's skirts (or men's unbifurcated garments, as some prefer) as exclusively male and unambiguously separate from women's skirts seems kind of neurotic to me. It goes back to the same misogynistic message that it is more humiliating for a man to appear womanly than it is for women to appear manly.

Every culture attaches a different set of largely arbitrary meanings to clothes. Living in the Information Age affords us the opportunity to experience many such sets of meanings from all times and places. Furthermore, we have the freedom to question, change, or discard these meanings if we find them wanting. I call bulshytt on the notion that only women can wear skirts.

Queendom Come

Flowers in the Mirror (鏡花緣), written in the early 1800s, is now broadly considered a classic of satire--a kind of Chinese Gulliver's Travels. It critiqued bureaucracy, racism, and patriarchy, among other things, all while telling a charming Odyssey-esque tale of adventure in unknown lands. As a proto-geek growing up with little access to modern sci-fi and fantasy (except through Japanese animation), I adored that book.

Women playing go. Surely the patriarchy is doomed!

The protagonists' journey to the 'Country of Women' left an especially deep impression on my young mind. The Country of Women was much like dynastic China, but with all the gender roles reversed. Women wore masculine clothing, owned property, conducted business, and waged war. Men wore feminine clothing, did housework, had few rights, and generally submitted to their women.

Inevitably, the female King takes a liking to one of the male protagonists, and insists on marrying him. Held captive in the royal palace, he is forcibly prepared for his wedding. Servants scrub him clean, pumice away his callouses, pierce his ears, bind his feet, and so on. Eventually, one of his companions secures his release by performing a task for the King, but not before the man-bride-to-be is thoroughly humbled.

Even as a child, I found the message fairly self-evident: it is unjust to treat an entire sector of society as lesser beings. By then, Chinese society had long since abolished practices like foot-binding, and no longer treated women as chattel. Common wisdom, however, still regarded women as the weaker sex. Parents hoped for sons and lamented daughters, and my grandmother was seen as uncommonly courageous--but probably foolish--for leaving her husband.

My own life was full of strong, independent, and educated women. My grandmother was a voracious reader, and would have gone to university if not for the Chinese civil war. My aunt was a teacher--the most respected profession in Chinese tradition. My mother went to the ROC Military Academy, ran marathons, and regularly jumped out of 'perfectly good airplanes' (as my father liked to say).

So it seemed obvious to me from a very young age that viewing women as 'lesser' than men was patently ridiculous. Yet whenever I pointed this out--even to the strong women in my life--I was dismissed. It seemed as though adults regarded the whole idea of equality between the sexes as a non-issue either because it was unattainable, or already attained. In other words, they accepted the status quo, sexism and all.

I thought that things would be different when I came to the States, the land of promise that so many in Taiwan believed it to be. Americans talk a big game about gender equality and love to politicize it, but there is just as much sexism in the US as in Taiwan, if not more. Feminism is a far bigger phenomenon in the West, but as a movement it seems walled in by group politics.

The Nightsisters of Dathomir will kill your family in style.

Fictitious matriarchies have continued to fascinate me, not because I think it would be a good or bad idea in real life, but because they remind us to reexamine social constructs that we take for granted. Most of these matriarchies--the Amazons of Greek legend, the Drow of Dungeons and Dragons, Angel One in Star Trek, Dathomir and Hapes in Star Wars, et al.--are dystopian to some degree. Some serve to point out the injustice of sexist patriarchies, and others are in themselves sexist commentaries  on the dangers of giving women power.

Because I cannot keep up with the sociological theories or jargon of women's studies, I hesitate to call myself a feminist. Nevertheless, I hold the same conviction now that I did when I first read about the Country of Women: that no society can be truly just until it sees its members as people first. Everything else--tall, short, male, female, yellow, white--merely serves as description.

The Consequence of Humanity

I recommend reading Inherit the Earth first, but those familiar with the concept of transhumanism can probably afford to skip it. In case you are wondering: no, I did not do all of my research on Wikipedia, but it does makes a convenient quick reference for readers unfamiliar with the terms.

Jaye Davidson in The Crying Game

At last year's Dragon*Con Transhumanism Open Discussion, someone brought up the idea that transsexual rights are similar in some ways to transhuman rights. While most people are not familiar with transhumanism, they do generally have a passing familiarity with transsexualism. Public opinion and legislation surrounding gender variance may well inform us about the way society will react to emerging transhuman issues.

Transgender (gender variant) people in general face a great deal of prejudice and, in some parts of the world, denial of basic rights. Transsexual people in particular, whose bodies do not match their gender identity, often seek medical procedures to transition to their target gender. This is accomplished through sex reassignment therapy, which may include hormone therapy, genital reconstruction, hair removal, and various cosmetic surgeries.

Many social conservatives regard gender variance of any sort as a deviation to be suppressed. Even social liberals often find transsexual people intimidating, and profess discomfort at associating with them. The fear and misunderstanding of these issues has lead to the development of a 'gatekeeper' mentality in legislation and standards of care relating to sex reassignment therapy. Transsexual individuals must undergo lengthy psychological assessment, and may be barred from medically transitioning if they do not meet the criteria.

Such barriers exist ostensibly to keep people from undergoing procedures they do not require. However, the gatekeeper mentality is, like censorship, founded on society's lack of confidence in itself. Transsexual people with no access to legitimate sex reassignment therapy often seek illegal alternatives, so the 'gatekeeper' system is not really effective at 'protecting people from themselves' in any case.

It is hard to imagine anyone going through the pain, expense, and social fallout of sex reassignment without good reason. However, if a man decided that he wanted breasts, or did not want a penis, he should have as much of a right to seek treatment as a trans woman (a male-to-female transsexual). In the same way, a man should have the right to seek a prosthetic replacement for his hand whether or not the original one functioned (I did not say this is a good idea, or that the technology is 'there' yet--only that it should be allowed). Mandating therapy (for all of the above) is still a good idea, especially in the case of minors, but ultimately the choice should belong to the individual.

I do not mean that the transhumanist desire for modification is equivalent to the agony of gender dysphoria and social rejection that drives so many gender variant people to suicide. At minimum, though, the rest of society will likely see transhumans the same way they see transsexuals--incomprehensible and frightening. Legal and medical gatekeeping of human augmentation will likely come to pass as such procedures become more common. I hope that society will grow more enlightened on the topic. Until then, transhumanists should advocate for the rights of transsexual people. Not only is it the right thing to do, it sets important precedents for other changes to come.

Beards, Beer, and Bacon

I went to MAGFest this past weekend with my partner. We were both sick (apologies to anyone who contracted MAGflu from us), but had a blast nevertheless. MAGFest was distinct from most other conventions I have attended in recent memory in several ways: it was one of the smallest, most focused (in subject matter, i.e. gaming), and most heavily male-dominated (probably due to above-mentioned subject matter).

Me and River, in kilts.

You can observe all kinds of interesting phenomena at a con with a higher sex ratio than the People's Republic of China. Among other things, I found the sheer amount of facial hair startling.

I do not have much of an opinion about beards in and of themselves. Even if I did, I would stay clean-shaven, as my facial hair looks pretty tragic when allowed to grow out.

However, the popularity of beards seems to coincide with a new cult of masculinity, a reaction against the 'metrosexuality' of the 1990s. Perhaps every generation finds its own arbitrary standards of manliness, but really, how did we wind up with beards, beer, and bacon?

These standards of masculinity (short hair, preferring the color blue, interest in sports) or femininity (shaved legs, preferring the color pink, interest in...whatever adult women are 'supposed' to like--cooking?) are typically enforced by peers in a process sometimes called 'gender policing'.

As an effeminate guy, I have come to regard with vague distrust any fashion that gets too closely tied to societal expectations about gender. In fairness, I have not yet heard anyone level a charge of sissiness at a man for lack of facial hair. This frankly surprises me, given that a beard (as a male secondary sex characteristic) seems more intuitively masculine than, say, pants. Maybe it has something to do with the company I keep.

At the last Dragon*Con, someone heckled me for wearing a UtiliKilt, referring to it as a skirt in a jeering manner. Before I could give the repartee I learned from Eddie Izzard, the rest of the room shouted him down with a roar of "It's a kilt!"

On the one hand, I felt very encouraged by the intent of my defenders--they found that man's gender policing unacceptable and told him as much. However, the way in which they chose to respond suggested that A) they did not consider a kilt a type of skirt (in what way is it not a skirt?), and B) they did consider a charge of skirt-wearing for a man to be an insult.

I prefer to question the underlying assumptions: what is wrong with a man wearing a skirt? Why do you consider bacon a manlier food than tempeh? How does my interest in this particular band have anything to do with my sexual orientation? It tends to bring the gender police up short, because they expect either anger or submission, not discourse. Better yet, it might make someone think.