13 August 2014

Beyond Mathematical Discovery: What Having a Woman Fields Medalist Really Means

There is no Nobel Prize in Mathematics.  And while the Norwegian government has managed to fund a separate prize called the Abel Prize with a similar monetary award and the Israeli government issues a coveted Wolf Prize in the discipline, no mathematical prize means more in mathematics or outside it than the Fields Medal.  The monetary value is only $15,000 Canadian, but the prestige is priceless. This year, for the first time, the Fields Medal, which can be awarded to as many as four people every four years, was awarded to a woman, Maryam Mirzakhani, and awarded to a mathematician from the global south, Artur Avila.  The press is making a big deal of the woman thing and not a big deal about the global south thing, which should not surprise anyone.  The press is also trying to diminish the significance of a woman winning the Fields Medal by stating that no woman has yet won either the Abel or Wolf Prize in mathematics and talking statistics on the sex ratio of Ph.D.s in mathematics.

These prizes are all awarded for mathematical discovery in particular, not pedagogy, compilation of resources, or many of the other things that academic mathematicians do in their work. All but one recipient of the Fields Medal has been an academic.  When you think about mathematical discovery, you think about a bunch of dead white guys having eureka moments in their bath tubs with a crown.  And maybe, if you are the child of mathematicians like me who was the right age in 1994, you think about Andrew Wiles holing himself up in secrecy for seven years to prove Fermat's Last Theorem.  And, if you read the news, you might also think of the one non-academic Fields Medalist Grigori Perelman, who proved the PoincarĂ© conjecture.  Even if you are the child of two mathematicians, you probably don't think about your mother running Maple calculations about complex manifolds while cooking dinner, or a young mathematician taking a break from writing a paper to nurse her child.  And you don't think about how the ability of even a brilliant mathematician to devote the time and energy to amazing discovery and to get the resources she needs is dependent on her gender.  Only 30% of mathematicians are women, and far fewer are tenured faculty at the world's top research institutions.

Before getting to the Fields Medal itself, let me push the other prizes to the side.  The Wolf Prize has only existed since 1978, and it is a lifetime achievement prize.  Its recipients are the authors of your college mathematical textbooks, the provers and conjecturers of Big Theorems, and the founders of new mathematical disciplines.  Among its recipients are many Fields Medalists, and it has no age cap.  This means that the gender bias in its recipients spans not just the last 20 years (assuming start of real mathematical work around age 20) but of the last 50 to 60 - Shiing-Shen Chern received the prize at age 73.  So, when looking at a Wolf Prize awarded in 2014, we need to look at the gender biases in mathematics at least back to 1964.  The Abel Prize has only been in existence since 2001, and despite its 6 million kroner ($1 million US) prize, is not discussed as a goal in mathematics.  Its recipients are mainly winners of the other two prizes, and I think it is still working to establish itself as a legitimate prize, and picking winners helps in that.  It is worth noting that my mother's thesis advisor, Isadore Singer, shared the prize with Sir Michael Atiyah in 2004 for the Atiyah-Singer Theorem, which won a Fields Medal for Atiyah but not for Singer, as singer was too old to win the prize at the time.  Similarly there is no age cut off for the Abel Prize, which is also in the process of making up for its years of not existing.  It is therefore not surprising that it has not yet been awarded to any women.

Now for the Fields Medal, which is awarded for outstanding discoveries by young mathematicians.  For young mathematicians to succeed in quests for discovery, they need to be in the right environment and have support and the time to make their discoveries.  This includes being in a research environment full of other talented mathematicians, usually ones in your own field, and having the support to do independent and collaborative research as well as teach.  Additionally, being able to make mathematical discoveries is not usually a matter of Eureka moments but of extensive contemplation and research, something which taking the time to bear and raise children, even if not taking time off from academic teaching responsibilities, can severely hamper women's progress in mathematicians.  While plenty of men mathematicians spend time raising children and caring for their families, they also have the option of having children later in life (which they do) and passing off care responsibilities to their partners in ways that are not acceptable for women.  The consistent gender imbalance of faculty at elite institutions makes it even harder for women to get the resources they need to overcome these challenges.  Top young women mathematicians are often given excellent positions at 2nd tier schools who are interested in attracting young mathematicians to keep and expanding which fields they have faculty in.  They take these jobs because tenure is hard to come by and they are then set for life.  But it makes incredible discovery harder.

I am hopeful with these latest Fields Medalists.  The inclusion of a mathematician from the global south means that meaningful mathematical educational structures are developing there.  The award going to a woman under 40 at a top American institution means that we are on the way to fixing the gender disparity in mathematics.  If she can now get the support she needs at Stanford, others will be able to as well, and more women will want to become mathematicians.  Programs will have to be more attentive to specific needs and concerns of women.  And maybe fifty years from now, the Fields Medal, the Abel Prize, and the Wolf Prize in mathematics will all be able to be given to amazing mathematicians of many genders on a regular basis.

05 August 2014

9 Av

This year I find that my fast has been easy so far, with three hours left to go.  Not that that's the point of Tisha b'Av, but it's noteworthy.  I feel appropriately in touch with brokenness and conscious that our world remains unredeemed. But Tisha b'Av as mourning doesn't feel meaningful, maybe because I'm already mourning.  In addition to the loss of Mr. Boy, this year Tisha b'Av is my grandpa's yahrzeit.  The metaphor of a bottom speaks much more to me this year.  It feels like the world, the people Israel (not to mention the land), and my life have all hit bottom.  I wish I could write more on this, but now is not the time.

Anyway, some 9 Av meditations if you are in need.  Not standard ones.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRPwFAoQwxc

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jul/20/sayed-kashua-why-i-have-to-leave-israel

01 August 2014

Peace is a Radical Pursuit: A Poem for Shabbat Jazon

Peace is a radical pursuit
Not the desire of polite society
To avoid the drama and chaos
Of conflicting human instinct
The pundits cry out for the moderates
"Where are the reasonable voices?"
They ask for the confrontation-averse
They call for the champions
Of maintaining the status quo
The wise who would rather
Continue to live in a world
Of unchallenged hypocrisy
Where occupation is sustainable
And terrorism acceptable - for now -
As long as it doesn't flood
The news feed or clog
The air waves or clutter
The rabbi's disagreeable sermon

The pundits cry out for the peacemakers
"Where are the reasonable voices?"
They ask for the confrontation-averse
They call for the champions
Of maintaining the status quo
The wise who would rather
Continue to live in a world
Of unchallenged hypocrisy
Where occupation is sustainable
And terrorism acceptable - for now -
As long as it doesn't flood
The news feed or clog
The air waves or inflame
The imam who is a foreigner
Anyway - from the Bronx
How exotic - And always
Jews first and Muslims after

Peace is a radical pursuit
Not meant for civility
Peace is not easy or quiet
It does not make way
For celebrity gossip
Or whatever it is that
Normal people care about
Peace is abnormal, anomalous
A miracle, I say, all say
Peace means I must care 
About your happiness
As much as I care about mine
It means I must hurt about your pain
As much as I hurt about mine
Peace means that I know
That the word naqba
Emotionally translates to galut
That it is real and
That it will be felt
Statehood or not
For the rest of forever
Until mashiaj comes

To be a Jew means that I believe
With perfect faith that she is on her way
Already, though she delays
To be a Jew means to believe
In the radical notion
That peace is possible
Even now, especially now
Achieving peace as a Jew
Means I must be like the disciples
Of Aaron - loving peace and pursuing it
To be a Jew is to be a storyteller
Of exile - of survival
That inspires the Dalai Lama
To be a Jew is to respond
To the most heated argument
With the affirmation
That these and these are
The words of a living God

The merciful, the compassionate
In which I may not believe
To be a Jew means
To not oppress others
Because I know oppression
To be a Jew means I must beat
My swords into plowshares
And my spears into pruning hooks
And then I must beat my plowshares
Into trumpets and my pruning hooks
Into guitars - to be the folk song army
To be a Jew is to turn
To turn my song into prayer
To be a Jew is to end
All my prayers with prayers for peace
And to pray not only with my words
But also with my feet

Peace is a radical pursuit
Not for those who justify any
Violence against tunnelers
Who are obviously up
To no good at all
Not for those who try
To figure out who
Has the moral high ground
Peace does not blame or shame
Peace is not the absence of violence
It is the hurling of understanding
Against hatred, of love
Against fear, of kindness
Against all types of aggression

Peace is a radical pursuit
It is the humble admission
That I don't know
What it's like to be you
That I will never know
What it's like to be you
But that I wish for you
To have everything that I want
And everything that you want
Peace is a radical pursuit
It is the acknowledgement
of guilt and pain and sorrow
Peace is a radical pursuit
It is an offering
Of the broken self
To experience 
Further vulnerability

Peace is a radical pursuit
Peace is not the prophet's vision
Peace is not the musician's hope
Peace is not the artist's aspiration
Peace is not the poet's dream
It is her job
Peace is as close to us
As the air we breathe
And as perplexing
As that breath we spend
So many hours trying to find
Welcome to the world's
Most hazardous occupation

Peace is a radical pursuit
It is not standing with anyone
It is sitting with everyone
It is for the brave-hearted
It is for the strong-willed
It is for the faithful
Peace is the proclamation
That in the face of every
Unimaginable provocation
As well as the expected ones
We will not feed the trolls
Except at the dinner table
Where they should eat more

Moderation perpetuates
Hatred and violence
It exacerbates
The pain of the status quo
Moderation is unreasonable
Peace is the reasonable alternative
Peace is a radical pursuit
Impatient, chutzpadik, a loud
Call to prayer at sunrise
Peace is a pundit
Demanding that we abandon
Being perpetrators and being victims
Peace is an activist
Fighting for its presence
Peace is an organizer
Asking you: Are you radical enough?

25 June 2014

How The Religious Institute Aims to Improve the Lives of Religious Bisexuals

In my life, I have been seen by others as a straight woman, a lesbian, a gay man, and even a straight man (which still baffles me).  Once people get to know me, they learn that I say I have attractions to people of multiple genders, but they don't often believe me.  When I started dating Mr. Boy, many of my friends who met me after my previous relationship with a man were shocked.  Even though I had stated my bisexuality (for lack of a more convenient term), my friends assumed that was talk and I was really only attracted to women.

In religious contexts in particular, even in otherwise queer-friendly spaces, this invisibility is worse and I have often encountered outright biphobia.  I think part of the reason bisexual invisibility is increased in religious spaces is the focus on finding one person to share your life with (I say one here because religious groups, as a whole, have not caught up to ideas of non-monogamy).  When people are in a relationship, this is praised in religious communities to an extent that erases sexual orientation.  This is particularly true in liberal Jewish communities where the reaction to someone saying they have a partner of the same gender is to ask if that partner is Jewish (another conversation for another time).

The Religious Institute today releases a book-length guide which will improve the experience of bisexual folk in religious communities.  The first resource of its kind, Bisexuality: Making the Invisible Visible in Faith Communities, is a comprehensive guide for religious communities to welcoming and inclusion people who have attractions to more than one gender whether or not they identify as bisexual.  The book asks the reader to consider whether the B in LGBT actually gets heard at her congregation.  Parts 1 and 2 of the book present an overview: Part 1 focuses on what bisexuality is and how people experience it and Part 2 on the justifications for inclusion of bisexuality on religious grounds from a variety of religious perspectives.  Part 2 also contains a brief contextualization of the "problematic" passages about LGBT folks from Tanakh and the New Testament.  The third part of the book outlines how to create a "bisexually healthy" religious community.  And the last part of the book outlines additional resources.  In short, the book attempts to address the issue Emily Alpert Reyes describes in her column "Why Bisexuals Stay in the Closet", which, incidentally, gets quoted in the book (props to friend and fellow University of Chicago Alum).

Suggestions in the book range from the often-overlooked-but-easily-implemented (writing out lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender so that the B isn't functionally silent) to the takes-specific-training-and-is-hard-to-implement, like the model of pastoral care it advocates.  That and the background information in Parts 1 and 2 enable this guide to be used by clergy and lay leaders regardless of prior familiarity with the issue, but also allow those with much experience to go even deeper.  The beginning of the introduction best describes the intricate issues examined in the book:

Imagine the following situations in your faith community:
• A congregant comes to you for pastoral counseling. He is excited, yet distressed that 
although he has always identified as straight, he has fallen in love with someone 
of the same sex.
• You are on the search committee for a new pastor in your community. One of the 
applicant’s profiles states that she identifies as bisexual. 
• A married woman in your congregation finds explicit homoerotic websites on her 
husband’s computer and comes to you for advice.
• A person everyone believes to be gay comes to a congregation party holding hands 
with a person of another sex.
• Two middle school students in the youth group announce that they are bisexual. 
Is your faith community prepared for these situations? Is your faith community open to 
people whose sexuality does not fit into the categories of gay/lesbian or straight? Does 
your faith community have access to resources about bisexuality and bisexual people? 

Even if you think you are good at theses issues, I encourage you to read through this book to see if your practices fall into some of the pitfalls the Religious Institute has identified.  I was surprised that some behaviors I thought were inclusive (hello big many-gender-loving trans guy here) could actually be detrimental.

Things the book does really well:
* Casts a wide net on what constitutes bisexuality that is well-explained.  The authors explicitly state who the guide is intended to help include, even, and perhaps especially people that don't use the term bisexual to describe themselves but experience same and other gender attractions on at least one dimension of sexuality.
* Combats the gender binary by using terms like "another gender" and "another sex" instead of "opposite sex" or "opposite gender".
* Talks about the ways in which bisexuals contribute specially to religious life and spiritual awareness.
* Presents nuanced and well-informed definition of sexuality and accounts of bisexual experience. I love the multiplicity of bisexual narratives in the book.
* Breaks down suggestions in a way that any congregation can start to implement immediately.

Things I don't like about the book:
* The phrase "bisexually healthy".  I assume it is meant to parallel the organization's use of the term "sexually healthy", but I don't think the usage is parallel and I think the term is confusing, even after it is defined.  I would advocate the words "friendly" and "safe" for bisexuals instead.
* The book is extremely monogamy-normative and does not address the issue of how to include and pastor to bisexuals who are not monogamous.  I personally think that the attitudes can exhibit the same poly shaming that is normative in many religious communities.  As a poly ally, this rubbed me the wrong way.
* Christian buzz-word terminology.  Uses of the terms "welcoming and affirming" and "faith communities" that originate or were popularized in Christian contexts present a barrier to non-Christians reading the book.  We would use "inclusive" and "religious communities."

Things that should be improved for the next edition:
* Better representation (particularly resource-wise) of religious traditions other than progressive Christian denominations.  In one resource list, Christian resources are divided by denomination, but no Jewish movement resources are listed.  Instead, there is one sub-header "Jewish" that lists Keshet and Nehirim.  This sort of listing, combined with the Christian-centric terminology
* More testimonials, with special effort to include testimonials of folks who are partnered to someone of the same gender.  Where partners are discussed in personal narratives, they are always of another gender than the writer of the narrative.
* A consistent use of gender instead of sex when the authors do not mean to focus on phenotypic, genotypic, or legal sex.
* Expansion to non-Abrahamic traditions - the book as it is now relies on the shared context for expression of values of Abrahamic faiths and the shared values of the Abrahamic religions.  Many other religious traditions are sexually healthy and would like to be safer, inclusive spaces for bisexual folks, and this guide would not be useful for them.  The authors state that it is intended for Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Unitarians.  But this sort of inclusion is necessary in all religious spaces.

In all, this is an incredibly practical and useful resource, and every religious (or faith, I suppose) leader should invest.  Good work, Religious Institute!

19 June 2014

Nuanced Perspectives, Digital Media, and Human Beings

After a deliberate absence from digital media following the death of Mr. Boy, I have been re-immersing myself in digital content lately, returning to getting my news online, keeping up with my twitter feed, and catching up on my webcomics, fanfiction serials, and blogs.  Facebook still remains elusive, as any time I log on, somebody is still congratulating me on my marriage, and I don't yet have the strength to change my relationship status.  While on my calculated hiatus, I read the news in the local paper and also the New York times, and kindly bowed out of any discussions regarding new developments on the interwebs.  Returning, I have a new perspective on the way media is produced and reacted to online.

We make big controversies over things that are trivial and minimize or sideline those things that terrify us.  Fierce debate can occur about what really happened in the elevator with Jay-Z and Solange, what should have happened, and how all the players in that situation should act following the incident.  Since none of us have power over what happens in the Carter-Knowles family, we could speculate without consequence.

But when Elliot Rodger killed 6 people and injured 13 others because he felt entitled to have women who rejected him, the internet quickly broke into 3 camps that did not converse with each other.  I'll call the first camp the extremist camp.  This is the camp of people who believe Rodger was justified in doing what he did, or at least that he wouldn't have done it if women had been more reasonable.  Some members of this camp have since been arrested.  The second camp was the feminist camp, which saw Rodger's crime as part of a systematic hatred of women that should not be tolerated, exemplified here.  And the third camp is the isolated crazy person camp, which puts forward Rodger's history of mental illness as explanation of what happened.  After each camp responded, they moved on, focusing on other facets of existence.  They were able to do this by compartmentalizing the killings, either as part of their own crusade against uppity women or as an extreme case of a systemic societal problem (either as perpetrator or victim).  Although their voices on the internet are louder than proportional, advocates of mass murder are few, and the world treated the killings, if not the motivation behind them, as an isolated case.  We compartmentalize mass murder because to treat it as something that could happen to us or by us terrifies us and if we really stopped to consider how anyone could become or be a victim of mass murder, we would cease to be productive citizens.

Still, the approach of over-analyzing topics that we can wrap our heads around and not analyzing those we can't is extremely problematic, as Jonathan Z. Smith outlines in his essay about the White Night.  The essay, entitled "The Devil in Mr. Jones", counters the assertion that Jim Jones was an isolated case in religion and the best approach is to move one.  Smith argues that if we dismiss how the Peoples Temple was started, how it grew, how it developed into Jonestown, and how the White Night occurred as unrelated to the study of religion, we will not understand how Jones manipulated religious phenomena in a way that caused the deaths of over nine hundred people.  If we say that atrocities are only committed outside of a societal framework, we don't correct the societal framework in a way to reduce the occurrence of atrocities.

I've recently read some flame wars on the use of PrEP (a medical phrophylatic approach to reduce risk of contracting HIV).  A bit about the treatment: Truvada is administered to HIV-negative patients who are at high risk of contracting HIV, including men who have sex with men, sex workers, and injection drug users.  Early studies suggest that the prophylaxis is highly effective for males who are compliant with the protocol.  So the flame wars, instead of discussing how we can provide PrEP cheaply to those who may benefit, weigh the merits of advocating PrEP instead of condom use (as if we only have space to do one or the other), and whether we should even be trying to convince gay men that they should alter their behavior to avoid contraction of HIV.  People are arguing over how gay men act or think instead of how to allow this resource to be useful to as many people as possible.

As a Jew, it's been hard to escape the news about the recent kidnappings of students at Yeshivat Har Etzion.  Before going further, let me say the non-nuanced, unequivocal things I think about the situation.  First, these students are victims of a crime.  Second, it is the wish of any decent human being that they be returned safely as quickly as possible.  Third, I believe that the modern State of Israel has a right to exist and a right to govern the land it currently occupies.  Fourth, Palestinians are human beings and have a national identity and have a right to self-determination in their own land.  Fifth, a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the solution most likely to eventually achieve lasting peace and stability in the region, which should be a desired goal for the entire world.  I've followed reporting from various sources with various political inclinations regarding the kidnappings.  But the internet is in two camps: either Israel is at fault for its occupation or the Palestinians (as a whole) are at fault because Jewish teens were kidnapped..  There is no nuance to the argument.  Even Samuel Heilman's article urging a systemic look only advocates that Israel and its yeshivot do more to protect their students to prevent students in yeshivot from getting kidnapped in the first place.

In my own head, the argument is very nuanced.  It starts with compassion for the teenagers and worry about their lives and safety.  I am angry at the kidnappers, but am reserving judgment on whether they acted as a part of a larger organization.  Whenever conflict is at the brink of resolution, violence escalates.  And yes, while Heilman may not think it does much, I am reciting Psalms for the missing boys.  Then, my head goes to the point that Gush Etzion is in the West Bank, and in my mind it is immoral for Jews to occupy the area, and I don't understand any Jew who lives, studies, or sends their children to the area.  And I also know about the four villages in Gush Etzion that existed prior to Israeli Independence that were destroyed by the Arab forces in 1948 and their predecessor Migdal Eder.  And I know the land they were built on at that time was formally purchased despite the fact that it fell on the Arab side of the Partition Plan.  And I know that K'far Etzion was founded in 1968 in part by the families of people who had lived in Gush Etzion prior to 1948.  But, in my view times have changed, politics have changed, and the best way to have avoided the kidnappings in the first place is for Jews to withdraw to Partition Plan borders, or for Jews who do not want to to live under the authority of a Palestinian state.  Currently though, Jews, particularly those involved in perpetuating and expanding formal Jewish structures, living on Palestinian land are part of the problems of occupation.  Yet I know the reality of moving an established yeshiva is not simple.  And I know those kids.  Well, not Naftali Frenkel, Gilad Shaer, or Eyal Yifrah, but those like them.  They are reasonable men who took gap years, or occasionally grew up in Israel and studied at the yeshivot in Gush Etzion, some of which were prestigious.  The range of their politics about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict mirrors that of the Jewish community as a whole: from staunchly anti-Zionist to extremely pro-Israel.  They are, on the whole, nice Jewish boys, who taught me how to identify which yeshiva someone had attended by the specific type of kippah srugah he wore.  And the ones I lived near in college opened their homes to me, a non-observant (by their standards, at least) queer Jew because that was how they wanted to celebrate Shabbat.  And when I married the Catholic Mr. Boy, they sent us the well-wishes of mazel tov and sheva brachos [sic] because they wanted to be a part of our happy occasion.  They are the fiercest pronoun police and can't stand it when anybody does it wrong for me.  And they have taken down mechitzot so I may pray with them.  So, when I hear the developing news and I watch the minutes tick by, I don't see Naftali, Gilad, and Eyal.  I see Yoni, Rafi, and Zach*.  I see Asher, Avi, and Daniel*.

I don't have a way to reconcile my image of settlers helping perpetuate a system of apartheid with the providers of shabbes tisches and blessings for my big gay interfaith wedding.  And absorption in the internet's way of forming camps doesn't help.  But people do.  Being open to making friends with people I never thought I'd interact with, both online and in person, allows me to see the nuance in situations.  It allows me to know that unless someone can have access to a stable living environment and follow up care, he is not likely to be compliant with a PrEP regimen.  It allows me to recognize that Palestinians and settlers are human beings, both when they are living well and when they are choosing poorly.  And it allows me to admit that the stuff that horrifies me horrifies me because it is horrifying, whether it be the mass suicide of an entire religious movement or the kidnapping of boys, and I need to try to understand it rather than compartmentalizing it.

*Names changed to protect identities.

06 February 2014

Stop Questioning My Gender Identity: On Piers Morgan, Janet Mock, and the trans narrative

Twice a week, on average, my Twitter feed erupts in some sort of controversy.  Like many activists, only "one side" of the issue appears in my feed, as I've constructed my twitterverse to be full of people whose thoughts, opinions, and interests are in concert with mine.  I have plenty of avenues to read the thoughts of people I respect that I disagree with, so I don't bother cluttering my twitter feed with homophobic, antichoice, conservative, transphobic, racist, procensorship, or interventionist sorts unless I also happen to be friends with them.  To be exposed to the opinions of people with whom I disagree, I need only read the newspaper, and if I want to be inundated with them, I can watch FOX News.  My twitterverse is therefore a space where I want to hang out: comfortable, welcoming, inviting, interesting, and safer, if not always safe.

The most recent controversy that popped up on my feed is the controversy over Piers Morgan's initial interview with Janet Mock.  The controversy has been extensively chronicled in the media, so I'll avoid rehashing it at length here.  In short, Janet Mock objected to the way Piers Morgan framed her story as being the story of someone who was formerly a boy and man and became a woman the moment she had vaginoplasty in Thailand.  Janet Mock's fan base got defensive and attacked Piers Morgan, calling him transphobic, and telling him he owed all trans* [sic] people everywhere an apology.  Piers Morgan objected to the criticism, accused Janet Mock of orchestrating abuse of him, and cited an article to justify his framing that she had been a man that Janet Mock did not write herself and critiques in the book, Redefining Realness: My Path to Womanhood, Indentity, Love & So Much More, which she was on the show to promote.  Morgan painted Mock as someone who was out to destroy his reputation, said that she did not object at the time, and repeated that he is a supporter of transgender rights.  Morgan's painting of the controversy fed into mainstream cultural narrative of transgender women: that they are deceptive, as did his overemphasis on Mock's coming out to her romantic partner, insinuating that if she had chosen not to do so, she would be a liar - a man trying to deceive another man into believing that he is a woman.  I do not believe Morgan meant to feed into this myth, but I also don't believe he did enough to avoid its presumptions.  Because of the controversy, Morgan invited Mock back to the show.  In the second interview, he asked her why he was being villified, what he did that could be interpreted as offensive, and why she did not object initially if she had a problem.  She explained (over and over) that she was assigned male at birth, she never identified as a boy or a man, she did not object initially because she was appreciative of the opportunity and scared about how an objection would be taken, and she reiterated that she did not villify Morgan.  She called him an ally and asserted the importance of him getting it right because of his platform as an ally.  She advised that we follow how trans women identify in order to describe them, rather than projecting our own assumptions on how they must identify or feel.  Morgan could not understand what a trans woman of color could possibly find scary about a straight white man.  The interview had several interruptions, but by the end, Mock seems to have communicated that there is a difference between sex and gender, if not that there was a power dynamic that made her fear of speaking out at the time justified.  While Redefining Realness is primarily about intersectionality, and Mock has stated that she cannot live a single identity, Morgan still reduces her appearance to a coming-out narrative and did not let her talk about the book.  Both interviews seem as though the questions were prepared only from the Marie Claire piece about Mock rather than a read of her book.

If Morgan had stopped after the second interview, it would have been an amazing thing for both of them.  Mock had the opportunity to explain what she found problematic, and Morgan had the opportunity to frame himself as an ally, trying to do his best to be supportive, and trying to understand if and how he failed so as not to repeat the mistakes.  However, then there was a panel, in which Ben Ferguson asserted that Mock was a man and boy and Amy Holmes said that the only reason that Mock appeared on Morgan's show is because she is trans (not, for example, that she had written a book as part of her activism).  While Morgan did a good job containing and reiterating what he had learned in closing the panel, there was no reason to have the panel for him to acknowledge he had learned something new.

Other than his insistence that he is a victim in the situation and his defensive stance, Morgan did exactly what allies should do: he asked questions, he listened, and he learned.  Mock, for her part, did exactly what she should do: she spoke up when she felt able that something an ally had done bothered her, and she patiently explained why while reiterating her understand of him as a supportive person.  As far as apologies are concerned, I don't believe anybody ever owes anybody an apology.  An apology is an expression of remorse for wrongdoing.  If Morgan wishes to apologize to Mock for mischaracterizing her story unintentionally, he is free to do so, and if Morgan wishes to apologize to his viewing public for not treating a guest in the most respectful manner possible, he may do so.  As far as all transfolk everywhere? The fault there lies with society, not with Piers Morgan.  We must give our allies the benefit of the doubt when they misstep.

Back to my Twitter feed: I felt alone, even though I'm not alone.  I identify as a man, but I have not always.  I used to identify as a woman, and I used to identify as girl.  I was never a boy.  Sure, I was a tomboy, and that led to many trying to impose the identity butch on me, but tomboy is a fundamentally girly gender expression.  I owned it.  I was the girl who liked sports. I was the girl who could spit farther than most boys.  I was the gamer, the geek, the stagehand, the techie.  I had Shirley Temple curls past my shoulders, wore mostly flannels and birkenstocks, and took pride at being able to get along with the men better than with other women.   was the kid who wanted to be an astronaut because Sally Ride's story inspired me (and also space is cool).  I still answer the curious question, "I didn't know women wear yarmulkes" with a strategic explanation that outside of Orthodoxy many women choose to.  I joke that it took me so long to come out as a man because I wanted to be Julie Silver whe I grew up. I still do, by the way.  I was raised on feminist literature and feminist ideals, and the women and men in my life emphasized the amazing women in the world.  I still took many of the amazing women in my life, particularly many of my early teachers, for granted. I looked forward to joining their ranks.  My eulogy for my grandpa was about his support of me growing into a strong woman.  Then my identity crashed.  As I learned more and more about the way the lens of gender is constructed, I learned that I my conceptions of my gendered self don't match how femininity has been constructed or how feminine masculinity has been constructed, and "woman" became too uncomfortable a term.  So I stopped using it.  For a while, I tried to be outside the constructed gender binary, but I identified with particular kinds of masculine constructions of gender identity, and I ended up feeling that the box "man" is broad enough to include me.  When I identify as a man, people see me for me, and I can interact without the gender dysphoria I used to have. When I identified as a woman, my masculinity was the most important, visible aspect of my identity.  Now, as an effeminate man, neither my effeminacy nor my masculinity stands out.  I sometimes am read as a butch woman, sometimes as a gay man, sometimes as delightfully androgynous (and therefore genderqueer - another problematic assumption), sometimes as a queer man, and very rarely as a straight man.  When I talk about the times in my life when I identified as a girl or a woman, I use feminine pronouns for myself, and when I talk about times since I stopped identifying that way I use masculine pronouns for myself.  This sometimes shocks the people I'm around; I've been known to make jaws drop when I say I used to be a Girl Scout.  Being socialized to be a girl and become a woman is an important aspect of my identity.  I don't compartmentalize me, and I know that it grants me a queer perspective compared to other men.  When trans activists claimed to speak for me that the language Morgan used would be wrong for any trans person, they were wrong, and they made me feel like my narrative wasn't valid.

Allies, haters, the indifferent, and trans activists should not discount my story because there are people who have always identified with a gender that does not match the sex they were assigned.  By being open about having been a girl and a woman, I am being true to myself at those times.  By identifying as a man, I let my gender presentation fade into the background, so I get to interact on a level that takes my gender as a given instead of a question.   And isn't that what Janet Mock wants for herself?

16 January 2014

The Menace of HIV/AIDS

I'm sick of correcting people about Mr. Boy dying.  Oh, so he died of cancer?  Well, no, but cancer killed him.  He died of AIDS.  The kind of cancer he had is rarely fatal for those with "normal" immune systems, but the 2-year survival rate for HIV+ folks who get it (because of HIV) is 50%.  But we still don't like to say people died of AIDS.  A long illness, or the secondary cause of death does better, because then we can live in the illusion that AIDS isn't scary anymore.  We can live in the illusion that health care is good enough that as long as HIV+ people have access to it they will be healthy for an indefinite period, and it won't be AIDS that they die of, but something else, and we can protect ourselves from infection.  And we can live in the illusion that there's no longer a stigma about being HIV+.

Maybe it's that I've had a positive partner, or more than "my fair share" of people in my social circle who are positive, that makes me so sensitive to this.  In the US, 1.1 million people are HIV+.  There are more than 315 million people in the US.  1.1 million people represents about one third of one percent of the population.  About 20% of my social circle is positive, and this was also true before I knew Mr. Boy.  In 2010, more than 15,000 Americans died of AIDS.  In 2013, three people in my social circle (including Mr. Boy) died of AIDS.

But the stigma of AIDS is still prevalent in our society.  When I was read as a gay man walking down the street with Mr. Boy, the assumptions of AIDS on people's faces was easily readable.  And in news stories, the assumptions between the lines make me crazy.  There was recently an article in the New York Times shaming gay men for not taking Truvada as a preventative measure.  And the small piece about  Walter Reed blood samples getting mixed up and what Walter Reed is doing to try to find a positive patient is full of stigma.  In the article, the person is assumed to be infecting others through unprotected sex or sharing needles, because the author assumed the risk of having someone who has HIV and does not know it must be elucidated for the reader.  The biggest segment of new infections of the disease is actually the monogamous partners of males who are not monogamous, contracted through heterosexual sex.  Maybe the author knows more about the patient details than I do, but if so, the details should be put to help finding the patient, not toward creating a scare of one HIV+ person who does not know she is.  The CDC estimates almost 1 in 6 positive folks don't know.they are positive, totalling to almost two hundred thousand people.  If that's your story, make it your story, but otherwise, make the story about the inability of military hospitals and their private contractors to maintain accurate patient data.