I once saw a short documentary at a festival of film students’ projects—the name of the movie and its makers is lost in the fog of memory, unfortunately—that was about a teenage genderqueer. She was biologically female but dressed like a male all the time. She and her boi friends dressed like greasers and walked and talked like slim-built James Deans.
This particular young person had a father who was a pre-operation male-to-female transsexual—Dad had been born a male, lived as a man and fathered a child, and was by the time of filming living as a woman and hoping to have surgery to make the body match the mind.
(To complete the freakshow, both Female Dad and male-ish daughter were at the screening, and had a screaming match outside afterwards—and fell into the behaviours commonly identified with their biological genders, Dad booming her voice in exasperation while daughter cried and stormed off, signifying what, I don’t know).
Anyway, onscreen in the film there was a moment when the female-identified Dad said something along the lines of, “There’s a difference between you and your friends and me. You girls are interested in fucking with gender roles. I’m completely invested in them.”
That moment stuck with me, and the concept has long fascinated me. Unlike others in the ever-expanding alphabet soup of LGBTTTQQI-dom[1], some transsexuals are heavily committed to the legitimacy of gender roles. So much so that they believe that they need to alter their bodies to match the role they feel they are supposed to—meant to, need to—play.
One of the books sitting on my desk awaiting a spare moment is The First Man-Made Man by Pagan Kennedy, about Michael Dillon, the first person to undergo a female-to-male sex change operation. According to the book’s overleaf, he had a failed love affair with Roberta Cowell, a pre-op male-to-female transsexual. I’m interested in what it, and what female-to-male transsexuals in general, have to say about manliness.
Because obviously they’ve thought a lot about the concept. These are people who have felt so strongly that they are men that they didn’t let their bodies get in the way of their manly identities. They were not, clearly, interested in radically altering our impressions of how someone in a woman’s body should act, they instead went about radically altering their bodies so that the flesh would match their own conception of how they felt compelled to behave.
All by way of introducing this crazy-sounding item from the Advocate. A pregnant man. The first since Arnold Schwarzenegger, but this one actually real.
Of course, the guy in question was born a female, and even as he had his sex legally changed, he left the female plumbing intact. How does this fit into the scale of being a man? I don’t know.
But I do know that I’m kind of jealous. There are two reasons I’ve ever thought it would be cool to be a female—or “wished I could be,” as I’d say in a parlour game. The first, that I’d like to stare at my naked body in the mirror all day and see how it all looks and feels, is typically adolescent and faded soon after puberty.
But the second is enduring: I have always wished it could be possible for me to carry a child. There’s something magical about growing a life inside of you, and there seems to me also to be something magical about the connection between mother and child that stems from the very fact that they were once physically attached, that the child literally came into being and grew from a cluster of cells into a person inside the belly of his or her mother.
That’s powerful stuff, and my experience of fatherhood has only made my suspicion that the apparently stronger bonds that exist between mothers and children than between fathers and children begin right there in the womb. (Not in every case, obviously, and the other usual provisos—my wife Rebecca tells me that the lack of an immediate connection and ensuing alienation is a major cause of postpartum depression… let the debate rage in the comments!) A father and his baby, whether they share genetic material or not, need to get to know each other and figure out how their relationship will work. Mothers don’t. The baby came right out of them and in most cases (historically all cases), the baby continues to feed directly from Mom’s body for months after the birth. Their connection is organic.
I’m sure you’ve seen as many psychological theories as I have speculating that the male drive to create art and build monuments is a compensation for being unable to give life (and as many other theories the male urge to destroy stems from the same place). Whatever.
Not this guy. He gets to have his own baby. And whatever that says about him as a man or about his commitment to male-ness, I’m happy for him.
PREVIOUS POSTS:
Ask an Angry Man: Real problem. Fake advice.
Blood on the Ice: When is a fight not a fight?
Speaking Briefly: The naked truth, from Ralph Kramden and Barack Obama
Guys vs. Men: It ain’t (just) a battle of the sexes
[1] That’d be Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transsexual, Transgendered, Two-Spirited, Queer, Questioning and Intersexed, for those of you no longer keeping track. If we add an “S”, we could significantly ease pronunciation of that awkward initialism to “everyone”, but don’t hold your breath waiting for that.[back]
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