| By Jacob Anderson-Minshall Published: May 10, 2007 | ||
Asian American transgender activist Pauline Park considers the push for gender-neutral pronouns in the U.S. “profoundly ahistorical.” “Gender-neutral pronouns are not native to the English language,” she argues. “And—unlike in Chinese, for example—[they] feel extremely artificial to speakers of English.” Park says she’s come to understand that the historical roots of transgenderism differ in various cultures. For instance, she contends, “There was a pre-modern trans identity in virtually every Asian society, and I think it’s important for transgendered Asians to envision themselves in light of their precursors.” Co-founder of the New York Association for Gender Rights Advocacy (NYAGRA), the first statewide transgender advocacy organization in New York, Park is best known for spearheading the successful campaign to pass the New York City transgender rights law enacted in 2002. After leading that campaign, she (www.paulinepark.com) helped draft guidelines—adopted by the Commission on Human Rights two years later—for implementation of the statute. NYAGRA (www.nyagra.com) is a founding member of a coalition that secured enactment of the New York City’s Dignity in All Schools Act, a law making schools safe for gender-variant children. Likewise, the organization supports the statewide version of the Dignity Act—currently pending in the New York state legislature—which would prohibit discrimination and harassment in public schools throughout the state. Park argues the law is essential because transgendered and gender-variant students face “pervasive discrimination and bullying and bias harassment in schools…throughout the state.” Unfortunately, she says, “[The Dignity Act] has passed the [New York State] Assembly several times but never the Senate, whose Republican majority refuses to consider any bill with gender identity and expression in it.” At least 10 states (including California) and dozens of New York localities have passed comprehensive anti-harassment measures for their public schools. Park also serves as vice-president of the board of directors of the Transgender Legal Defense & Education Fund (TLDEF). Last December, the TLDEF (www.transgenderlegal.org) honored her work by establishing the Pauline Park Fellowship. And in 2005, Park was chosen as the first openly transgendered grand marshal of New York City’s LGBT Pride march. The inexhaustible transgender activist also authors a regular blog on BigQueer.com, and has a piece in the upcoming anthology Homelands: Women’s Journeys Across Race, Place, and Time. In her essay, “Homeward Bound: The Journey of a Transgendered Korean Adoptee,” Parks writes of coming to terms with her gender identity as well as her identity as a Korean adoptee. White fundamentalist Christian adoptive parents in Milwaukee raised her and her non-transgender twin brother. “Being born in Asia and adopted and raised in the United States,” Park says, “enabled me to understand that all identities are social constructions. Just as I have come to realize that I have a distinct identity as a Korean adoptee, I have come to understand that I have a distinct identity as a transgendered woman that is different from that of a non-transgendered woman.” Although her identity may be a social construct, Park admits she can’t step away from it. “It’s not as if I’m Asian American one day and transgendered the next. When people meet me for the first time or see me on the street, they may or may not read me as transgendered, but the first thing they see is my Asian face and features, and they often make assumptions based on that Asian physiognomy.” Park says that transgendered white people need to understand that discrimination and harassment based on gender identity or expression differs in important ways from that based on race or ethnicity. “There are so many challenges facing transgendered people of color both within the transgender community and in their own communities of color. And non-transgendered people of color need to understand that there are important parallels and similarities between those two different types of experiences despite significant differences.” Trans writer, Jacob Anderson-Minshall, co-authored Blind Curves, the first in the Blind Eye Mystery series, available now. Contact jake@trans-nation.org or visit Anderson-minshall.com for more information. |
After a shift in gender identity, Cliks' Silveira finds new freedom in rock 'n' roll
AUSTIN, Texas -- Halfway through his band's set at Momo's here last month, Lucas Silveira had an asthma attack. He was struggling for air, which is a major impediment to rocking, and not rocking would have defeated the purpose of bringing his band, the Cliks, all the way from Toronto to Texas for the South by Southwest music festival. Happily, an alert festival volunteer located an inhaler and ran it up onto the stage. A few puffs later Silveira was back at the mike, wild-eyed, full-throated, and even more intense than before he nearly stopped breathing.
Adversity builds character. It's been the source of not a few killer tunes. In Silveira's case, adversity has been nothing short of transformational. The day before the Momo's gig he was splayed on a couch in a hotel lounge, analyzing the confluence of events that has led to this fine musical moment. Some of his experiences, like a great love affair and painful split, are familiar to anyone with a beating heart. Others may not be familiar at all, like living your whole life feeling unsure if you're a boy or a girl.
"What spurred the songwriting for this new album was a big breakup," says Silveira, who brings the Cliks to T.T. the Bear's Place next Thursday. "But beyond the fact of coming out of a relationship I felt very settled in, I had become completely aware of the fact that I'm transgendered. A lot of the music came out of that confusion, and going to a place that was not so nice, but coming out the other side, being able to climb out of a hole and do what I had to do."
The songs on "Snakehouse," which comes out next Tuesday, brim with urgency and fortitude. Rhythms are primal, riffs are sinuous, and Silveira sounds invincible. "Oh yeah oh yeah I've fallen down/But I can get up," he sings on "Oh Yeah," and you can actually hear him swagger. He wrote the song two years ago, right about the time Lillia Silveira changed her name to Lucas. It was more forceful and more passionate than anything he'd done in the past. Looking back, Silveira realizes that as his gender identity shifted, so did his musical identity.
"People can see through anything," Silveira says. "I think when you hide, whether it's purposely or subconsciously, people can see that. I came to a very real place in myself and I think that being in touch with who I was made me create some of the best music I've created."
Rosie Lopez, head of A&R for Tommy Boy Entertainment, first heard the Cliks in 2004. She liked the band, but didn't fall in love. Two years later Cyndi Lauper's manager sent her the track "Oh Yeah."
"I was like, 'My God. It sounds like a whole different band. ' "
Lopez signed the Cliks in January, and she concedes that the fact that Silveira is transgendered is both a compelling back story and a significant marketing challenge. The band's audience up to now has been largely gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered, and in June the Cliks will join Lauper, Debbie Harry, Erasure, and the Dresden Dolls on the True Colors tour, designed to raise awareness of issues facing those communities. But both the band and the label are dedicated to broadening the Cliks' fanbase.
"I'm learning what it's like to work with someone who doesn't fit into a box, and realizing how much people need boxes," says Lopez. "The best thing we can do is put it out there and let people decide on their own. So far we're getting as much attention from the rock press as we are from the gay press. But this isn't going to be easy. They're going to encounter some resistance. At the same time something magical is going on, and it has everything to do with Lucas being centered and comfortable."
Silveira blurs the line between male and female. Gay men, straight women, and lesbians flirt with him at shows. The band's MySpace friends include punky kids, middle-aged New York Dolls fans, and Joan Jett. Silveira's had what's known as top surgery but has no plans to further alter his anatomy. His energy onstage transcends stereotypical notions of gender, but then rock music has always been a safe haven for outsiders.
"I remember seeing the cover of 'Ziggy Stardust' and going 'I know that's a boy but he looks kind of like a girl,' and Chrissie Hynde wearing jeans and playing guitar, and somebody like Debbie Harry who had this very feminine yet masculine vibe to her," says Silveira. "All these things that confused me, they made me feel really thrilled. I always took my cues from music. Nina, my guitarist, was just saying 'Rock 'n' roll is your freedom card. You can be whoever you want to be.' "
Silveira is clear-eyed. He knows that right now his story is as much a selling point as his music. More important, his story and his music are inextricably bound.
"The songs are an extension of what you become as a person," he says. "But it's interesting, because I find that the stronger I get as a songwriter the stronger I become as a person. I feel so liberated when I'm onstage now. I think there's something really sexy about feeling comfortable in your own skin."