Maybe I should raise my dose? My spatial skills have always been absolutely terrible. I’m so clumsy that I occasionally walk into doorframes: I’ll overshoot a little, or accidentally swerve right or left just as I’m going through the doorway, and bam! Iincidentally, I have gotten a teensy bit better at reading maps and following directions, but I think that’s because I’m not dissociating from everything around me anymore.
Anyway, bitch/lab linked to this article on Max Wolf Valerio, a longtime activist and writer whom I respect a great deal (darkdaughta and I had an abortive discussion about his take on the word “transsexual;” I should really get on that reasoned response I was gonna write).
The article talks a lot about hormones, specifically testosterone; Valerio believes that they’ve changed his brain a whole lot:
But for Valerio, the real surprise was the way testosterone transformed his brain. “If I looked at an object, it seemed more defined, more three-dimensional,” he says. Words came with more effort, and emotions became harder to articulate. His sex drive soared.
When Valerio was still Anita, she and her lesbian friends thought men’s leering, lustful behavior was nothing but posturing. Now, he’s felt male lust for himself.
And someone in comments nailed why this shit makes me so uncomfortable:
I always worry that this kind of oversimplified story makes things harder, not just for those in trainsition (”shit – my spacial reasoning skills don’t seem to be increasing – this must not be working”, but folks around them (”crap – are you feeling male lust for me?”.
It’s sexist! Sexist, sexist, sexist! The idea that there’s more of a difference between than within is sexist! And if Valerio sincerely believes it as a general rather than a personal statement, he’s being sexist! And sexism is not good for transpeople!
What if Max had said that he felt exactly the same, or that testosterone made him weepier, sweeter, kinder, clumsier, more in touch with his emotions? All of those things have happened to transguys in transition; they’re all true of plenty of cissexual men. Transsexuals are used to support other people’s pet theories about what makes a man and what makes a woman all the time. People such as the author of this article will cling to the tiniest, most strained data set as though it means anything:
Scientists have studied transsexuals seeking clues to male-female brain differences. Ruben and Raquel Gur of the University of Pennsylvania worked with a female-to-male transsexual, also named Max, and found that as the testosterone kicked in, he improved on spatial-skills tests, but got worse in verbal fluency.
Their findings back up larger studies from Europe, offering tantalizing hints to our inborn differences.
One person! I should care? And how did the scientists control for the skills this Max believed he was supposed to be developing?
We’re not some sort of perfect control group. We didn’t grow up in cages, and we don’t enter them when we get our first shots. We are not sex sans socialization. Transmen face the same pressure to be masculine as men; in some ways, that pressure might be even more focused. And, just like men and women who don’t transition, we seem to vary a great deal both in terms of expression and in terms of talent.