August SelvaggioOn August 27th, 2023, in her acceptance speech after receiving a “Streamy” award for Breakout Creator, Dylan Mulvaney proclaimed, “I think allyship right now needs to look differently, and you need to support trans people publicly… and proudly.”
A prominent influencer and activist for transgender rights, Mulvaney is best known for her Instagram video series “Days of Girlhood,” through which she has cataloged her experiences living publicly as a woman since the first days of her transition. In her speech, Mulvaney also drew a contrast between the promising future of support and success for transgender figures due to growing public acceptance, and the simultaneous increase of hostility and derision toward transgender people–– especially those in the public eye. Succinct and insightful, Mulvaney’s words hold relevance not only in the context of larger American media, but also in smaller settings–– even here at Lincoln School. As transgender identities continue to be the victims of political scapegoating, and as transgender people have witnessed the constant reduction of their humanity to a controversy, committed allyship is desperately needed to restore a sense of dependability for transgender individuals. “Compassion fatigue” is a phenomenon described by the New York Times as “when a person who wants to and has been trying to help address a problem … begins to personalize and experience the distress of those they are trying to help.” Compassion fatigue can lead to a lessened energy or investment in a cause once it becomes too painful for its supporters. Compassion fatigue can also serve as a form of “secondary trauma,” leading its victims to take on the emotional burdens of those who have been subjected to the issues they work to solve. Marginalized people, and those close to high-tension social issues, are at risk for compassion fatigue, and in our current social and political climate, transgender people feel the gravity of the hatred and lack of support for transgender people nationwide, even when we are not personally subjected to it–– and especially when we are. Each misgendering, each deadnaming, and every instance of transphobia ranging from malice to ignorance holds enormous weight. We acknowledge that not every act of transphobia is conducted with the same viciousness or venom, and we do not intend to draw such conclusions. However, we also require a greater deal of effort from our allies than ever before to counter the rifeness of such an affliction. Simply put, there is no place for indifference right now. Here at Lincoln, transgender students need your attention and commitment. As prominent contributors to our community despite our minority status, we expect the same care and respect that we bring to school each day–– especially from teachers. Continuously misgendering students long after meeting them is unacceptable, as is deadnaming them. Transgender students deserve to feel and be supported and known at Lincoln school, which, in its official Gender Admission Guidelines, promises, “Should a current Lincoln student begin to identify as male, non-binary, intersex, or gender nonconforming, the student will continue to have a home at Lincoln School… Lincoln values the safety and respect of all members of our community, no matter their gender identity.” Through projects from our GSA and affinity groups, and activism from transgender students here at school, we have been committed to educating you about the etiquette surrounding our personhood–– now make us your priority. Particularly at Lincoln, transgender students are in need of role models–– those who are transgender and those who are allied with us–– who are invested in seeing us through to flourishing futures, and who serve as living examples that advocacy for marginalized identities, as well as those identities themselves, do not end in adulthood. It is paramount that we can turn to teachers for support as we navigate a period of our lives characterized by transition in all forms. There are, of course, positive trends in public behavior as well. Because consistency in allyship means so much right now, teachers who uphold a pedagogy of support and flawless affirmation are tremendously valued, and the GSA would like to thank them for their dependability. If you’d like advice on how to improve at correctly referring to transgender people, please see my other article, “Correction: How We Can Use Language to Stop Misgendering and Start Affirming.” If you’re curious about Lincoln’s response to changing protocols surrounding gendered language and transgender identity, please consider reading my research paper, “Gendered Language in Community Interactions.” GSA thanks you for your investment in change, and looks forward to the progress we will see within our Lincoln School community.
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August SelvaggioOne truth I hold ad cordem: language matters.
I love language, but perhaps it is more accurate to say that I revere it. I understand that words carry power, and that we as individuals have a duty to use that power responsibly. Language works in tandem with our identities to inform our perceptions of each other and grant us the agency to describe ourselves. To respect one’s identity is to not only acknowledge or utilize, but to also embrace the language that surrounds it. Here at Lincoln, our linguistic identities can take many forms, though one issue deeply compelling and personal to me is a standard of addressing individuals with their pronouns and names. I’ve been at Lincoln for four years, and for three and a half of them, I’ve been out as transgender. Generally, and fortunately, I’ve found teachers to be extremely successful in gendering me correctly and using my name. In the outlying missteps I’ve witnessed in which teachers have used incorrect language for me, I’ve noticed that their errors seem to stem from a lack of knowledge about the topic rather than an absence of conviction. Moreover, based on my assessment, these are not gaps in understanding the importance of using gender-affirming language, but rather, the learning process that accompanies it. I think that many believe that action and intention are completely intertwined–– and in some ways, they are. One who does not wish to be cruel to others opts for choices that they believe will be beneficial to them. Sometimes, however, this help can be misexecuted, effecting a sort of social language barrier between two people with different definitions of consequence. But our fear of mistakes as we attempt to convey our hopes for one another should not lead to a communicative arrested development–– though in some ways, I feel that such a practice has been adopted in the context of using gendered language. At times, people are so afraid of the possibility of misgendering someone that they choose not to test fate with a committed regiment of practicing using gendered language. Subsequently, when they finally do make an attempt at gendering individuals, their lack of practice causes them to trip up, leading to discomfort and embarrassment for both parties. So, what can be done? I first think it necessary to make a few points to clear as much of this familiar anxiety as possible. Firstly, as I often remind people, trans people are the experts of our field–– when questions of our bodies, politics, or pronouns arise, we are, for lack of a better term, the scholars who can respond with the most current and accurate information, and, incidentally, the first line of defense against these inquisitions. Likewise, transgender people are conscious of the efforts that you put into affirming us. We can distinguish between negligence and lack of experience, and we are aware of your intentions when you make errors despite meaning well. Secondly, we understand that changing your perception of someone’s identity is a complex and often challenging process. It involves a full deconstruction of your previous conceptions, and asks a concerted determination κɑί λόγῳ κɑί ἔργῳ–– by means of both theory, and effort. Changing the language that you use for someone doesn’t just require a pledge to do right by political correctness, but an organized, intentional, and often kinesthetic effort to change the process by which you do so. Thirdly, in the event that you are guilty of the dreaded crime of misgendering someone, a simple four-step formula can be implemented to right the misdemeanor: first, acknowledge your mistake–– if it is made known to you by someone else, thank them for their correction. Next, take responsibility for your action: something along the lines of, “I misgendered you. I’m sorry,” should do just fine. The next step–– this one is crucial–– is to prioritize the comfort of the misgendered victim over a wanting for an absolution of guilt. A basic apology is sufficient–– but an extensive, repeated apology is uncomfortable, and burdens the victim with the expectation of assuring you that your mistake didn’t matter to them, when, in fact, it did. Lastly, the most important step: privately make changes in your life to prevent similar behavior in the future. This article would be non-substantive and unsuccessful if I didn’t include the steps toward correcting such behavior. After apologizing, sit in the feeling that comes after your misdoing. Acknowledge it–– the tension, discomfort, and regret–– no matter how much you wish to forget it. Here, I feel it necessary to clarify that I’m not suggesting that anyone should feel a prolonged guilt for making a mistake. However, accepting these emotions will remind you of why you hope to do better. After realizing your feelings, talk them through with someone close to you. During this conversation, it’s imperative that you practice referring to the individual you misgendered correctly, as these are the moments in which your mind will be most conscious of the language you use for them. Say something along the lines of, “I misgendered Sam today. He was sitting in front of me, and I called him ‘her.’ His friend Amy corrected me, and I felt so bad.” After these first two steps, you’ve done the bulk of the work–– discerning a need for improvement and beginning the process of changing your mindset. The capstone step will ensure that you achieve your goals. Finally, you must continue to practice these new skills. Talk about the person aloud when they are both present and absent using the right pronouns–– for instance, “I had Sam in class today. He shared that he went to Vermont this past weekend with his family. Isn’t that cool?” Or, “Sam says that he thinks that the answer is two! What do you think of that?” This step will make certain that your values do not end at your intentions–– rather, they become habit, and then principle, guiding your actions to reflect the ways in which you’ve chosen to live your life. Some of the most encouraging conversations I’ve had with teachers have been those in which I’ve gently shared my observance of their repeated misgendering, and have been greeted with kindness, ownership, and a willingness to learn. I’m certain that people mean well–– Lincoln is a space in which we’re lucky to be able to expect support from faculty who take every measure possible to ensure that we succeed. The duty is on us to remind them how to provide it. |
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