I didn't realize you were in Sociology

Last night I was joking around with my housemates about this recurring situation, but it's something that I've been thinking about, and I think it's worth sharing.

Many of us in the Sociology department have just finished a 3 week TA training program. Since the Women and Gender Studies Department is fairly small, their students came to our training. A few facts must be stated at the onset: I met many graduate students for the first time at the TA training; my only interaction with many of the grad students was at the TA training; the Sociology graduate population is mostly female and fairly straight.

I've been starting to get my footing more and more at school. I'm on top of my work, I'm understanding what I'm learning, and I'm engaged. I'm beginning to feel like a grad student in Sociology. At the last few training sessions, I was having conversations with other soci students. During these conversations, I figured out that everyone thought I was a Women and Gender Studies student. This is despite introducing myself as a Sociology student. Hm.

In total I was asked 3 times last week if I was in Women and Gender Studies. That's 3 people out of about twenty (including around seven who are in my cohort and know for certain what department I am in and thus would certainly not ask). Well, that's just plain interesting. The trainings were predominantly Sociology students, so it was usually a safer bet to assume someone was in soci. I always said I was in soci. Why, then, would someone think I was in Women and Gender Studies?

Of course, everyone I tell this too immediately knows. Look at me, I just look like the type of person who would study gender. And I do study gender. I study it through the Sociology department, but I study gender and sexuality and feminism and all that super gay stuff.

I think this is super interesting because people see me, take in my identity, and then immediately create ideas about what I must be interested in and concerned with. Now, I happen to study gender; however, there are many queermos out there who do not and that's totally great. Just because someone cannot walk down the street without everyone noticing the salience of their gender identity or their sexuality, does not mean that those concepts have to make up the primary focus of their lives.

I mean, what would be the comparable response in a given situation - when a heterosexual, white woman is surprised to learn that I am not in the Women and Gender Studies program? Oh, you're in Sociology? I thought you were studying...what? What is the stereotypical subject for a straight, white woman to study? Maybe it is Sociology. Maybe that's why there are so many straight, white women and, if it's possible that I could have another affiliation, they assume it's so.

I'm not offended by an affiliation with Women and Gender Studies, clearly. I hail from a Feminist, Gender, and Sexuality Studies background. I study gender. I am in the Sociology department to study gender and sexuality in a way that will provide me with more opportunities.

I do not, however, like being reduced to my identity in that way. Also, shout out to all queer and genderqueer folks out there doing non-gender work and breaking down those barriers.

I was just resting my voice

I don't have classes on Wednesdays, which means that I am not slotted to be on campus. As a grad student, I am expected to attend various seminars, workshops, and lectures that occur frequently over the course of a week. When I open the email, I just cross my fingers that the 'optional' event will not fall on a Wednesday. It's a nice campus, but it really breaks up my day to throw in a 32 km roundtrip bicycle commute.

Today I did have to be on campus (woot!). I gathered up my laptop and some books and headed for a local coffee shop on the drive. I spent the majority of the day working through various assignments and readings. In the late afternoon I headed back, puttered around, made some delicious kale-inspired dinner, and then got back to work.

Now it's 8:30 pm, and I've realized that I've about 3 actual interactions with people today. Yikes. I ordered an americano from a woman this morning. That was a consumer-based interaction. I was paying for the treatment I received from her. I had a couple brief interactions with folks at the coffee shop. They were not sustained conversations; they were in reference to some shared observation.

Typically my housemates and I have a pretty good interaction going on throughout the day. However today we seem to be on different schedules.

When I don't actually communicate with people for a day, I feel like less of a person. By the end of the day, I have an urge to call someone (or everyone that I know) and tell them everything that I noticed throughout the day. Or to just start talking out loud. I'm not calling anyone though. I'm blogging. Why?

Well, it seemed appropriate because I think that one of the reasons I can go a whole day without actually talking to someone is because so much happens on the internet. I did have some conversations on gchat with friends. I also exchanged several emails with family members, fellow grad students, and professors. In fact, I was receiving emails from the Sociology department all day long. In some ways, I was in constant contact. My phone, gchat, email. Why privilege face-to-face interactions over virtual ones? Now that I live on the other side of the border, I have come to rely heavily on technology to keep my connected with my community back in Seattle. For the first time I have a phone that accesses the internet. I also use Skype.

Since I am still relatively new to Vancouver, I just don't know that many people. I think that part of learning how to be comfortable with that type of newness, is feeling comfortable with your own silence. When you are part of an established community, you often have at least a couple opportunities throughout the day to express yourself in relaxed settings- maybe with a partner or out with friends. I'm realizing that to be settled with this transition, I need to allow for the time that it takes to develop those spaces. That process will necessarily involve times of loneliness, isolation, and silence. Those are not necessarily negative things though they have a negative connotation. There is a lot to be learned by sitting with yourself.

In the meantime, technology, though it does not replace face-to-face interactions, can provide a means for a certain type of very necessary communication.

Are you scared of loneliness and silence? Why?

Number 1 or number 2?

I want to talk about bathrooms. I have been thinking about this issue for a long time.

Unless you stumble upon some special progressive washroom configuration, there are always two choices for bathrooms- men or women, boys or girls, ladies or gentlemen, or, if you're in a beach themed restaurant, maybe it's buoys and gulls. As a person who presents gender ambiguously, bathrooms represent one of the ultimate demonstrations of how poorly I fit the mold or, I would argue, how poorly the mold fits people like me. I can go through most of the day without incident and then bam! there's the bathroom dilemma. Society's bathroom dyad asks me- are you sure you're a woman? Do you look like a thin line atop a triangle skirt?

Outside of queer spaces, I get nervous going into the women's room. This anxiety is not unfounded. I have had many incidents in the bathroom. They have ranged from benign elderly women asking me if they are in the right place to aggressive, intoxicated cisgendered heterosexual women at straight clubs invading my personal space and verbally harassing me. I still have not figured out a response that I feel comfortable articulating in these situations.

I want to recount my most recent bathroom incident because a) it wasn't hostile and b) I think it explains something really interesting about people's reaction to the presence of person with a variant gender expression in 'their' bathroom.

I was eating dinner and having drinks at a restaurant in Vancouver that hosts musical performances. When I went to the bathroom, there were two women around 60 years old in there standing by the sink. One of them gave me a prolonged look as I entered. She then turned to her friend and said, "Is there a men's washroom?" Her friend answered that there was. She next asked, "Are we in it?" Her friend answered that no, they were not. I laughed a little because it seemed ridiculous at the time and walked into a stall.

Her basic line of thought upon seeing me was: Are you in the right place? Am I in the right place? And if we're both in the right place- how?

I find this confusion interesting because it really underscores the gender policing that happens on a daily basis. People have such rigid notions of 'woman' and 'man' that the presence of a person who opens up that construct or maybe openly defies it is threatening. But really, what would be so terrifying about a non-woman entering the woman's washroom? There is a tremendous amount of fear of the Other fueling people's responses.

What do you think are good (read: appropriate, educational, witty, empowering) responses for bathroom confrontations?

Orient yourself

What a week! Graduate School Orientation was Thursday. I moved Thursday night. Then International Student Orientation was Friday.

Orientation was just plain exhausting. From 9am-5:30pm the entire new graduate class at UBC was herded through welcome remarks, info sessions, meet-and-greets, and workshops. Throughout the day we were encouraged to mingle with our new colleagues. However, we were all just lumped in there together, in overwhelming proportions.

When I see I a new group of people and know absolutely no one, I look around for people that I can identify with, based on different reasons. The first thing I look for is if they have a similar gender expression or seem to be presenting as queer. However, I also look for people who might be carrying a bicycle helmet or who have interesting tattoos. Sometimes it's an attitude thing, a dress thing, a food thing, or a presence thing. The point is that I'd rather scope out the scene a bit and approach someone I think that I might have a couple things in common with then just strike up a conversation with every Finance major that stands next to me (no offense to the friendly man from Montreal, and good luck with your studies).

I have a few reasons for relying on this tactic. One is that I actually get kind of nervous in overwhelming social situations and tend to shrink back. Another is that, I admit, I'm a judgmental person. I'm working on it. Finally, the reason I make those judgments is largely based on a survival perspective to social encounters.

I am a queer person with an intentionally gender ambiguous presentation. I'm a sex educator, I'm vegan, I'm culturally Jewish but a practicing atheist. Over the years I've realized that to some my identity is anything but benign. I am proud of who I am and the experiences that brought me here. Thus, I seek out communities and people who will understand and appreciate that.

I saw many people at Orientation just sitting down next to anyone and starting conversations. It is a privilege to not have to consider your race, gender identity, sexual identity, or identity at all during an interaction. Folks who are not in the dominant group do have to consider (to many different degrees) their identity at all times. For instance, I have to consider my gender and sexual identity; however, I am not forced to consider my race. I must actively choose to be aware of my racial privilege.

I look for people with similar gender expressions or for queer people because I feel safer around them. When I had trouble finding such people on Thursday, I felt incredibly alone. Not just alone because I didn't know a single person at the Orientation (or in Vancouver) but because I didn't see a single person "like me". A single person with a similar identity.

It is not that I think that I will not get along with people who have different identities. I made a few friends later in the day, all of them non-queer identified. However, as someone who does have to consider my identity all the time, it's important to have friends/a community who reflect that for the seemingly simple reason that around them, I would not have to consider my identity.

What makes you feel safe in a new social situation? What do you look for in new people?