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.

I take it to mean that the ultimate goal is to upend the systemic issues that have led to the explotaition and oppression of women. To examine the root causes of prejudiced thinking and behavior. I would say that prior to this reading, I believed feminism to encompass this, but I would have thought its main goal was the pursuit of equality. For me this alleviates the discrepancy that can sometimes occur when women achieve a measure of success equal to a man’s. Sometimes these achievements can seem absent of feminism, either in their motivations or in addressing the systemic issues that had been an obstacle for them. Perhaps an example of this would be Margaret Thatcher becoming the first female British prime minister. Her pursuit of that position was not to pave the way for other women (and given that it took nearly twenty years for there to be second one could argue whether or not she inadvertently did), but to achieve and measure success within the patriarchal system, thereby validating and reinforcing it. To say that men are the measure of success can sometimes feel that we are still allowing men to be the gatekeepers. This isn’t to say that these achievements aren’t important or worth pursuing, but does illustrate how without the accompanying goal to end sexism, we are still allowing for the continued subordination of women. 

I also appreciate this definition because it presents a common ideological enemy, allowing the possibility that anyone can be complicit in its perpetration. As she illustrates, we are all products of the patriarchal system, and perhaps unaware of our unconscious biases, and that “females could be sexist as well”, at times at war with themselves.  She goes on to discuss in “Feminist Masculinity” and “Feminist Parenting” the detrimental effects that sexism can have on males as well and the importance of raising children in a feminist household in hopes of stopping this cycle. She writes, “Patriarchal masculinity teaches men that their sense of self and identity, their reason for being, resides in their capacity to dominate others”. This also highlights many of the struggles men are facing in their identity, and why this fight can be so trying, because if you take away the power and domination that men have built their identities on, what do they have left.

I see a lot of parallels in debates on gender. I can say at 38 that I am a gay cisgender male, but while I am still working to develop the knowledge and vocabulary with which to discuss gender (both my own and other’s), my younger self would never have contemplated questioning gender constructs and their relation to me. “Cisgender” has only been in my vocabulary for a little over a decade. Though I started in ballet at 11 (I guess going against gender norms), I still had a deep desire to conform, which also meant not to question or challenge. It is really only in my recent adulthood that I’ve begun to examine what gender means to me; the ways in which I conform or not; how much of that is performative and why. In doing so I’ve also recognized how pervasive and aggressively defended these constructs are. Many people have so stringently shaped their identities around them, that to try and shape your own identity outside of the system is seen as a threat to their whole sense of self. Those who don’t conform are always forced to defend themselves, as opposed to those who do conform questioning why they are so devoted to these constructs. 

And I feel the same can be said for sexism and the patriarchy. These are systems that people have built their lives and identities upon, that demand adherence to survive, and thus to go against them is seen as radically destabilizing. As it should be.

Hi everyone, Neil here, my preferred pronouns are he/him/his. I am just beginning my second semester at BMCC, having returned to education later in life. I grew up outside the city in northern New Jersey. I ended up dropping out of high school in my sophomore year to pursue a career as a ballet dancer. I spent a majority of my career dancing with Miami City Ballet, eventually retired at the age of 34 due to chronic injuries. I am tremendously thankful for my time as a dancer, I believe it gave me a sense discipline which I have carried through into my life after ballet. In the four years since I retired I have continued in a creative space. I mostly worked in commercial video production, predominantly producing content for ballet companies, Broadway, and other performing arts organizations. At the beginning of the pandemic, much of my production work dried up, allowing me to gain some space and perspective. I began to reevaluate my career and what I was contributing to society. I realized I wasn’t fulfilled, and felt that I wanted to help people, ultimately leading me to apply for my undergraduate in psychology in aim of becoming a therapist. 

My hope in taking this class (and really in most of the areas I am hoping to study) is to expand my knowledge in ways that will allow me to help my future patients. I would like to serve the queer community, largely because of my own struggles in finding health care providers, in all fields, who are of my community. There is a tremendous comfort and safety that comes from having that common ground, and allows you to cut through a lot of exposition to get to the root of your problem. In this regard I am looking forward to our studies on gender. I recognize that while I have a handle on areas that relate to my own personal experience, there are many issues/topics/experiences that I may fully never have considered, or at the very least would benefit from exploring more. I am most looking forward to engaging dialogues with you all as we make our way through this semester.

And if could recommend a podcast, it would be Cerebro for any X-Men fan. The X-Men have always been a metaphor for minority groups, or anyone who is “other”. The podcast is hosted by a gay literary agent who’s father was a writer for Marvel. In each episode, the host and a guest break down one character, frequently from a very queer perspective. Though writers weren’t allowed to explicitly have queer characters, they created a deep queer subtext. I highly recommend the Mystique (Raven) episode for analysis of the character’s gender fluidity and relationship with Destiny (Irene Adler).