I believe that for Alok, moving beyond the binary is to move away from our strictly confined definitions of gender, and away from the policing of gender. As Alok refers to, society tends to assume “that there is one stable definition of manhood or womanhood”, and that frequently these assumptions are treated as gospel and used to subjugate and oppress people who fall outside of those definitions. I believe that Alok means to move into a world where gender is not used as a determining factor in societal expectations, structures, or policy in a way that is exclusionary of anyone. 

It is an interesting task to contemplate my gender identity and the way I conform or don’t, because it makes me recognize how it has not been fixed in the course of my life, and how the points where my identity came into conflict with societal norms have shaped me or how they have developed in the course of my 38 years. Up until probably my early teens I was frequently mistaken as girl. I was late to develop, so I was much smaller than most of the boys my age, I also had softer features and a high pitched voice. I was taunted by my school mates and occasionally my teachers, calling me a girl or gay before I even had any idea of what that was. As such, I began to hate and suppress any part of me that did not conform. I also began to moderate the way I dressed, choosing more “masculine” colors or doing away with color altogether. I was physically talented, and good at a lot of sports, but removed myself from them as much as possible because any shortcoming seemed to reveal my feminine nature and open me up for ridicule. I ran or threw a ball “like a girl” for instance. I was artistically inclined, but refused to participate in any group school arts activity in fear it would reinforce people’s views of me. And when I entered into ballet, I attempted to hide it from my classmates, assuming correctly that it worsen my bullying. My circumstances changed somewhat after I dropped out of high school and continued to my professional ballet career, but I still tried to conform. Despite what people’s suppositions about men in ballet may be, or perhaps because of them, there is a firm desire for men to conform to conventions of masculinity. “Do it like a man” was a frequent critique from both my male and female superiors. So I would say it wasn’t until I retired from ballet that I began to soften some of the restrictions I had place on myself and explore my gender identity and expression more fully.

Time has chiseled away the soft “feminine” features of my childhood, I now wear shorter hair and a beard. I now have my ears pierced, something I had always wanted as a child but eschewed because I was worried it was too feminine. I wear nail polish and occasionally makeup, and probably have more pink in my wardrobe than any other color. What I’ve also found interesting in the past couple of years is how I code switch depending on my environment. During the isolation of the pandemic, rarely encountering people outside of my immediate circle, I began to dress the way I wanted and felt comfortable. Then, last summer I was fortunate to spend the summer in the Pines on Fire Island. In the safety of this gay and queer community, seeing all types of gender expression, I felt comfortable wearing anything, dresses, caftans, enormous jewelry, large dangly earring, short shorts. But immediately upon my return to the city I would feel uncomfortable. I immediately knew that I could not dress in that same way, and that if I were to do so I would garner unwanted attention or feel unsafe. I realized how much of my gender expression is performative for society’s expectations and for self-preservation. How I mold myself to conform, but also the privilege I have in my ability to blend in if I choose, and the adversity that those who can’t must face.