In Greek mythology, Tiresias was out walking one day when he came upon a mating pair of snakes. He struck them with his walking-stick, in the hopes that he might see which was male and which female, and Hera (displeased, as always) interceded, transforming Tiresias into a woman. He remained as such for seven years, until again he stumbled across copulating snakes; this time, he either trampled them or let them be, (depending on who is telling the story) whereupon he became a man again....

This episode in the story of Tiresias is - as all Greek myths are - steeped in the bygone culture (and rampant misogyny) of ancient Greece; and it is the same with all stories of gender variance floating around today. Take, for instance, the comedic trope of a man who discovers that the hot babe he's been hitting on is "actually" a dude- but I'd rather chat up gender identity with Tiresias than either of those fellows. He, at least, gained some perspective on the matter.

I am fascinated by the myriad ways in which people negotiate their own complex relationship to gender and the genders of others. No one can ever tell us what our own gender is. Our experience of it is purely subjective and internal - yet, it has wildly far-reaching influence on how we live our lives, and there are few other aspects of human experience and behaviour for which society (so to speak) has gone to such great lengths in attempting to naturalize and police brazenly artificial boundaries and limitations. I am not an advocate of dissolving all gender categories, or in any way against the traditional categories. I do, however, endorse the position that all boundaries are permeable, and the wider gamut of gender identities are equally deserving of recognition and respect.

This blog is my way of prodding the knot of snakes with my walking-stick - it is my way of celebrating and exploring gender variance through stories, visual art and entertainment.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Playing with Barbies c. aged 6: a Dramatic Reenactment



This performance video is of myself, approximately age 6, playing with Barbie-dolls, dramatized with but a few small embellishments over memory (ie. I don't believe I knew the word "metaphorical" at the time; my hair, though near that length, was not black and red - though I'd wished it were; and though other children have destroyed Ken in the oven/microwave/incinerator, I have not - but he was usually drafted to play the King/wizard/some other guy and the more plentiful Barbie dolls were required to pick up the other male roles). This little performance video is in the name of reminding those who would condemn Barbie as some sort of instrument of patriarchy that the intentions of a toy company, and the way in which children actually play with toys are two very different arenas. The meaning of a child's playing with dolls is neither fixed nor necessarily predictable. For myself, Barbies were aides to the imagination - never role models or any kind of ideal - ideal only in that they were big enough to dress in appropriately complicated clothing, yet small enough to carry around more than one at a time.
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