Phallic Friday - transgender

I keep running across TV shows and articles about transgender lately, so it's on my mind. So often it's men transitioning to become women, and I wondered if there were women who wanted to become men, and then I saw this article here. It's about an upcoming documentary, It's Not Just Me, following the transgender process of four women, transitioning to become men.

When I was a kid, I always said I should have been a male. Being a female had no interest because I couldn't do the things I wanted to do - play sport, be an altar boy (although this may have been a godsend in hindsight), get dirty, be allowed freedom, wear shorts and trousers, play rough, pee easily in the outdoors. I had no brothers, so I didn't know what being a man was, I just saw being a woman wasn't my thing. I was as tomboy as I could be within the confines of my life - I don't think that's changed.

I can't imagine the difficulties people face when they want to change their gender. It horrifies me to think of the constant barrage of rejection and question and negativity they have to face.

As a young teen, I remember Dad working in a position where he had a transgender employee. I was a kid with big ears, so I doubt he told me the problems, but I have no doubt about overhearing his conversations with others and embellishing these with my imagination. In thirty odd years, society's views haven't changed much about gender reassignment and identity.

I think the most difficult issue Dad faced was over toilet use. As a kid, this seemed ludicrous to me - at home we all used the same loo, what was the difference?

I can see now that there is much behind the bathroom issue and it's not as simple as a bathroom issue. It has a lot of fear and misunderstanding behind it. Fear, because so often unwanted/seedy sexual encounters happen in bathrooms/toilet blocks. As a kid I was warned never to use the toilets at a park or public place on my own. Never go to the bathroom alone is drummed into women, with the inference being that 'bad things' happen to those who disobey. It's like monsters under the bed - except worse. So these fears are carried over when a transgender person wants use of a bathroom that they 'shouldn't' be in. And then the misunderstanding of who transgender people are and want to be, adds to these fears.

Society seems to view anyone as different, as dangerous.

I keep coming back to this, but openness and education is, I think, the way to change these perceptions and biases and fears.

If only we could talk about these issues, openly and freely.

If only we didn't want to box people into confined squares and stick labels on them.

If only we could allow people to live their life, accept their choices (especially when they pose no harm to others).

I think this sums it up beautifully. It comes from Simon, and is a quote from the article:

"At the end of the day people have their own opinions and religions and beliefs and whatever else and that's absolutely fine.

"But I'm not upsetting anyone by being who I am, it doesn't matter, I'm just being me, and I think everybody in the world should have that freedom to be who they want to be — we're all human."

Sunday Story - Rugby League vs Rugby Union

I've been noticing, but it came to a head this week, that I'm extremely passionate about making the distinction between Rugby Union and Rugby League. This simplest reason for this is that I'm a sports nut, and they are two different games.

But there are a heck of a lot deeper reasons for my reactions, which has taken me a while to dig deeply into, and be willing to share. Here's what I've found:

I grew up in Sydney in the 1970s and 1980s. It wasn't like it is now. Football was a suburban game, and although allegiances weren't quite as parochial as in Melbourne with Aussie Rules, there were 'unwritten' allegiances that I didn't really understand - from years before when Sydney was less like it was then. I didn't know that but I became conscious of it as I grew up, or maybe upon reflection.

Rugby Union was on TV on Saturday afternoons, Rugby League on Sundays. I watched both. I admired both. Rugby Union had some unbelievable tactics that weren't available/used in League - like the fullbacks' kicking duels, pushing scrums to gain advantage or to score, and twisting scrums for penalties or field position. League seemed rougher, coarser, tougher. Union was played with an intellect that I didn't quite understand, and I had no idea how to explain/question the differences I saw. I read books and books on both sports trying to understand the differences. It was fascinating trying to fathom this.

In my late teens I babysat neighbours' kids. Somehow I scored a job babysitting for a guy who was huge in Rugby Union. A tough forward. A great intellect of the game. Maybe even a commentator (I can't quite remember). I was stoked. I was going to meet a hero. When I arrived, he opened the door for me. He didn't look at me or greet me. I stuck my hand out saying that I was very pleased to meet him (which I was, but I was trying not to fangirl). He gave me a limp fish handshake and turned away. His wife gave me the rundown. They left. He had no interaction with his children that I saw, or his wife. I babysat. I never asked for an autograph as had been my plan. He shattered my image, of him, but now I look back, I think it may have been the beginning of the shattering of my love for rugby union.

I moved to country towns then. I had no idea that I had to choose between union and league but I was soon told by the union supporters that there was no way on earth I could support both. Maybe they were joking, but when a few of them all had the same reaction and they didn't know each other and weren't with each other at the time, I had to conclude that the sentiment was real and not a jest. I still went to games. I knew a couple of guys from my touch footy team who played for various teams and codes. I lived near a union ground so my dogs and I would often spend a sunny arvo watching a game.

Then there came more comments. What was I doing at the union when I wasn't a property owner (ie large landowner, farmer from the right side of town)? Surely I didn't imagine I could mix with the union players (or the women who followed the game) when I was new to town? Girls had waited their turn to date XX, didn't I realise I couldn't be here drinking with them? I was a work colleague, and hadn't imagined I was dating or trying to date the guy. I was watching a game of footy and drinking with them after the game.

It took an old bloke at the pub telling me that rugby union was for those with money, and I'd be better off sticking to league. Yep. Apparently football had a socio-economic barrier that hindered fans...or maybe it was only female fans. It was never quite clear.

I didn't stick around watching either game. I went back to watching on TV. But Rugby Union had lost its joy. I'd been hurt, badly, by the judgement of people involved in that sport. I didn't want to have anything to do with it.

I do still watch the Wallabies. I still admire some of the technical differences between the two games. But my love of the game was ruined by a limpfish handshake, and a class distinction that I wasn't even aware existed in Australia.

That's why I write Rugby League stories, and why I'm passionate about the distinction.

If you're not a sports nut, there's no difference. In my mind, there's a world of difference.

Phallic Friday - coarse language

Yesterday there were some tweets that prompted this post - great tweets that made me think.

My publisher wanted an excerpt from Team Player to go on the blog. I'm not fond of picking excerpts because there's 80 000+ words, which ones do I pick?!? What do I want to convey? How far into the story should I pick? It's a nightmare. Anyway, I picked one - you can read it here.

Kate Cuthbert is my esteemed publisher, and she tweeted it with a NSFW (Not Safe For Work) warning, but made it fun by saying how those words were safe in her work.

They are in mine too (funny that!).

Kate's follow on reply to a comment, said she had a running tally of how many uni students she could offend with her "cunt is a feminist word" lecture.

I laughed when I read that, but then I got to seriously thinking. We don't have a lot of words to describe the female body. I refuse to use 'pussy' because it's a cat and I can't use it for a female body part, sorry. I can use scientific/technical terms like labia, vulva, vagina, clitoris, but you can only use them so many times. And in this extract, I wanted something that described the whole part, because Hannah was wearing jeans, so technically, Charlie couldn't be touching any of the individual parts. I run into a missing part of our language. What word can I use to describe this?

I can say - He shoved/placed/held his hand between her legs, or thighs - but it's not technically correct either. There are words to describe every other body bit. The equivalent area for men we have cock, dick, penis, manhood, balls, scrotum, sacs, junk, and however many others you'd like to use.

Please don't tell me to use 'lady parts' - I feel like I'm five.

I want a word to use. Quim is okay - but I'm not writing an historical.

I use 'cunt'. I use it proudly. I'm using it as a word to describe a body part. I'm not using it to swear, or using it in a derogatory manner. I wouldn't mind having another word so I could mix it up a bit...but I don't really have one.

I want to be mature about sex, so 'lady parts' or 'wet bits' or 'squishy softness' or whatever description like that really doesn't get the tone I'm after.

I'm not deliberately trying to provoke. I'm trying to use language I'm comfortable with, given my limited choice of correct words.

And I use swearing in my stories too. I could leave it out, but if I'm using cunt and people get upset, I may as well use the language many people use in casual conversation, like fuck and shit and damn and bloody. I'm writing contemporary erotic stories.

My clean other half writes without these words, and also without sex, so I know it's possible. However, I make a conscious choice to use these words. I make a conscious choice to write without censorship. I make a conscious choice to write about sex, to write it explicitly, and to keep it fun. I have no problem if you choose not to read it. 

After much thought, I agree with Kate that 'cunt' is a feminist word. It's a word we need to reclaim from derogatory connotations, because it's one of the few we have to uniquely describe our full genitalia. I'll keep on using it, proudly. Let's get it away from being 'crude'.

Sunday Story - covers

Here are my two B&W covers side by side. Both are footy stories but they're otherwise not linked.

What do you think?