Listen up feminists and LGB
Tactivists! Yes, you who worship the holy trinity of “sex, gender, and sexuality” in your educational literature! Yes, you who suddenly discovered transgender folks sometime during the 1990s and decided that, for their sake, it would be super important to draw a clear distinction between “sex” as a biological, bodily fact and “gender” as a mode of social identification!
You’re doing it wrong.
Sex is not “what’s in your pants.” Sex is not chromosomes. Sex is not hormones. Sex is not biology. Sex is neither a penis nor a vagina. Sex is not breasts, nor is it chest hair, prostates or ovaries.
I’m a transgender woman. For the next few months at least, what’s in my pants is a penis. I have a prostate gland. I have a Y chromosome.
“Aha!” you say. “So your sex is male but your gender is female! That’s what makes you transgender.”
Wrong. Try again! “Sex” is a social decision made at the moment of birth (or earlier if your parent[s] get a sonogram). We only assign children a “sex” because of gender, because we feel the cultural imperative to sort people into two dichotomous populations based on the presence or absence of a tiny bit of flesh. “Sex” is gender in doctor’s clothing: nothing more, nothing less.
Yes, we have bodies. Yes, those bodies have characteristics. Yes, those characteristics have gendered meanings in a cisnormative world. But this “sex” you keep on looking for, that you incorporate into your ostensibly trans-inclusive curriculum? It. Doesn’t. Fucking. Exist.
The only people who need to know details about my body parts are my doctors and my lovers. Do you fall into one of those two groups? No? Then you don’t need to know what’s in my pants! You don’t need to know what my chromosomes are. You don’t need to know my estrogen levels (although they’re quite high, thank you very much).All you need to know is that my name is Samantha, I use she/her pronouns and I pee behind the door with the dress on it. Guess what? We can teach people all of those things without them knowing anything about my body.
In fact, you should just quit talking about “sex” altogether. Try using “assigned sex” to talk about doctors’ decisions and the ways in which those decisions affect peoples’ lives. But quit trying to act as if we can empirically sort bodies into two categories that pre-exist gender norms. We can’t. And you’re hurting precisely the people that you think you’re helping with your convenient sex/gender split.
“Sex” is gender in doctor’s clothing: nothing more, nothing less.
i found these pictures on google and i’m laughing because it’s like arceus is so annoyed at its three children screaming
I got a talking to today because my manager had OKed that an older couple could go over the (very strict) limit on our back-to-school sales items and then not let me know about it, so when the customers came up to the counter and I told them there was a limit they flipped their shit and were rude and loud as they could be and threw the biggest stink ever and only THEN does my manager let me know that he’s OK-ed them to be over the sales limit of no more than 3 of each item. So I got yelled at by the customer, and reprimanded by my manager, for following the store sales rules while my manager didn’t see fit to inform me he’d bent them for this particular set of customers. fml
First the shit-ton of Blade Runner references in Rainbow Dash’s micro comic, and now the title “Do Princesses Dream of Magic Sheep” which is a parode of the book Blade Rummer was based off called “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”
IDK, maybe it’s the same one clearly saw The Big Lebowski and decided to put a few characters in the show
complete with Jesus Quintana
who was suspiciously gone in the 100th episode
I’m not saying… I’m just saying…
They’ve been Canon since the cutie pox episode I believe.
