I was gender queer growing up in the 1980s, in small town New Zealand and the word “gender queer” didn’t strike my ear drums or my retina until two or three years ago. I turned to the only culturally sanctioned expression of my gender queerness available to me when I came out as gay and started to become a Drag Queen in the mid 90s. Now I know Drag Queens now don’t sit comfortably with contemporary trans discourse, but at the time it seemed like the only option for me to be honest about who I was. And I loved the attention. And it runs deeper than a stage personality for me. And I don’t feel trans, I feel gender queer, but I’ve only had words for this in the last few years. During the day I’m read as male, I know that, I’m a big strapping handsome beaded man. But my language and behaviors don’t align with my presentation. And I am blessed to be working somewhere that accepts what, 10 years ago, would have been professional suicide. And sometimes I present as a Drag Queen, with beard, and I’m not mocking girls who are transitioning, and I’m not mocking cis-women. I am the echo of the decades before Facebook, before young people had access to ideas and information and language.
Posted on: Sun, 19 Oct 2014 00:31:54 +0000
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