The more I research scholarly journals about trans* issues; write more papers, articles, and blogs; and speak at conferences, universities, and random panel events, the more exasperated I feel about the inconsistent language within the trans* community.
We are a diverse community of transsexual, bi-gender, multi-gender, pangender, non-gender, gender blender, gender bender, gender gifted, gender fuck, genderqueer, drag queen, drag king, androgynous, two-spirited, third sex, and gender-nonconforming people, among many other identities. Historically, each of these labels has been classified as variations of the term transgender, but there are some who have traditionally identified as one label or another and do not simultaneously identify as transgender. Lengthy, heated debates have been hashed out in trans* forums about the transgender umbrella and people from varying identities have expressed the desire to separate themselves in order to declare self-autonomy and independence. I respect the choice each person has to select a label or non-label with which to identify. Those who are gender variant, however, have similar legal and medical concerns so for this purpose, we must band together to obtain rights on a unified front. Beyond that, individual identities can be honored and in order to promote inclusiveness, the current shift is to utilize the term trans* to represent everyone along the entire gender spectrum without limiting someone to the transgender label.
This shift from transgender to trans* is only a drop in the bucket of language problems however.
First, the term transgender is used and misused inside and outside the community. We typically accept its use as an adjective: The transgender man was talking on the phone. I have also seen it used far too often as a noun, seemingly for ease of communication: The transgender was talking on the phone. Sometimes it has been used as a verb: He transgenders from male to female. Not only that, but the ed is sometimes added at the end of the word which definitively shifts the word to verb tense. So is it transgender or transgendered? Adjective, noun, or verb?
Second, there is no clear, consistent use of the term transsexual. Originally a term developed by the medical community to describe the physical transition that happens with surgery, transsexual has been reclaimed and redefined by the community. But who is worthy of using this label? Is it anyone who is on the cross-gender binary? Can someone who has not yet had surgery claim this label or is it solely reserved for post-op individuals? Is someone who has had surgery required to use this label? Can those who don’t intend to have surgery call themselves transsexual?
How do we identity the partner of a trans* person without sounding awkward or offending that person? There are no widely accepted labels for those who are attracted to a gender variant person. It’s possible that the partner does not label one’s self as gay, lesbian, straight or bisexual. Pansexual may not be accurate, and in its technical definition pan- represents any person or any thing to which one may be attracted. Queer is not definitive, and though reclaimed out of pride by some in the community, it still has a negative connotation across generational lines. Transsensual has been tossed out as an option to define those who are specifically attracted to those who are trans*, but it is a little-known, “untested” label.
Shifting terminology not only has the community confused about which terms to use, but it also confuses family, friends, social workers, therapists, and doctors who are trying to be sensitive in their communication. Consider all of the nonconforming trans* jargon: Gender-assigned vs. Birth-assigned, Bio-female vs. Cis-female vs. Genetic woman, F to M vs. FtM vs. F2M, Gender Straight vs. Gender Normative, SRS vs. GRS. And let’s not even begin to dive into the muddled world of gender-neutral pronoun options!
We stigmatize one another with the language barriers that have been put into place. The semantics are awkward and inconsistent. With all of these complications, I propose that a major overhaul is necessary. How do we, then, unify the language in a time when there doesn’t seem to be unity within the trans* community as a whole? What group of persons would be deemed worthy enough to create a definitive language system? And if the community can come to a new vocabulary consensus, what methods do we use to perform the daunting task of educating the entire trans* community, the medical and social work communities, and global society?
Regardless of whether this is possibility or pipedream and whether each of us believe in labels or non-labels, the lack of clear, agreed-upon vocabulary hurts the cause for education and advocacy for the trans* community. It’s time to decide what terminology should be retired and which should be accepted, and to begin using semantics consistently across generational and geographical boundaries. This will empower the community, our cause, and those who are walking alongside us in our journey.
~ Julie Walsh
