I think the shortest benign and obvious replacement I’ve seen is “transfolk;” “trans*” is shorter but not nearly as clear. Are there other replacements you would recommend?
As a trans person: Use trans as an adjective, and with about the same heuristics you would for noting some other aspect of a person.
“Cindy is a tall woman” is socially-comfy if it’s relevant that Cindy is tall. If you always refer to Cindy as a “tall woman” specifically, omitting opportunities to drop the adjective or including it even where it’s not obviously pertinent information, it usually comes across as awkward. If you emphasize it or bring it up pretty much at random even in situations where it’s clearly not relevant, people begin to notice the unusual emphasis you place on it and wonder if there’s some reason you’re doing it: Does Vaniver dislike tall women for some reason? Or find the idea so difficult to take at face value, when paired with the more obvious, mundane, un-adjectived noun that they cannot not notice it? The difference is that since most cis people don’t know anyone who’s trans and aren’t reliably given the cultural context for understanding and including us in their “just folks” category, the fact that someone is trans can seem disproportionately interesting or relevant. Your best bet is to counter for that—not necessarily ignoring that someone is trans, but not calling special attention to it either.
Different people also have different preferences, of course, but it tends to signal casual acceptance and respect for trans folk to a pretty thorough extent.
As a trans person: Use trans as an adjective, and with about the same heuristics you would for noting some other aspect of a person.
Sure. To make the purpose of the grandparent comment more explicit: I find that adding object-level positive examples to my suggestions makes people more likely to act on them. If all someone knows is that tranny is a slur, and they want to refer to trans people in general, then tranny is still the most available word. They have to choose in the moment between making their point conveniently and impolitely or spending time determining how to make that point politely (maybe ‘people who are trans’? Yeesh, that’s so long). Giving them a tool- “instead of using tranny, why not use ‘transfolk’?” that respects their concerns (it’s hopefully intelligible to outsiders, about as short, memorable, and they have another person’s judgment that it’s not likely to be considered a slur) signals mutual understanding and is more useful to them.
Except some fair portion of trans people do find it alienating and weird when it’s affixed to the word like that. “Use ‘trans’ like you’d use the words “tall” or “blonde” to describe somebody” doesn’t have nearly as wide an exceptional case and it’s also very easy to remember.
Well, m’self for one. Any number of other trans people I’ve met in person and online.
As for the why: one of the really core issues trans people face is invalidation of our identities, both overt and subtle. Marking us off as “other” in situations where it’s not relevant is a part of that—even non-bigoted folks often consciously or subconsciously perceive us as not really who we claim to be, and while they don’t wish to antagonize us directly, they can’t quite bring themselves to take our claims of being men or women at face value, at par with those of cis people. (Not even getting to what nonbinary folks face there.)
One thing some of us have observed is that using “trans-” as a prefix is a way to keep us comfortably-other, mostly in a subconscious way. Would you expect to ever see someone regularly and preferentially referring to Alice as a blondewoman, or Sally as a fatwoman, or Cheryl as a blackwoman? Not barring some kind of long-term shift in colloquial English use.
Basically, for some trans folks “transwoman” and “transman” just come off as fenced off from “woman” and “man” in a way that amounts to a sort of compromise, one we aren’t comfy with. This is not universal; even for people who have that pet peeve, it’s not something they always bring up at every juncture, but it’s probably worthwhile to know about.
But the term that was suggested in the ancestor to which you objected was “transfolk”. I can see—barely—the issue with “transman” and “transwoman”, but I don’t comprehend the implied extension to “transfolk”.
Further thought, now in relevant quote form (translate as appropriate):
“There are the occasions that men—intellectual men, clever men, engaged men—insist on playing devil’s advocate, desirous of a debate on some aspect of feminist theory or reproductive rights or some other subject generally filed under the heading: Women’s Issues. These intellectual, clever, engaged men want to endlessly probe my argument for weaknesses, want to wrestle over details, want to argue just for fun—and they wonder, these intellectual, clever, engaged men, why my voice keeps raising and why my face is flushed and why, after an hour of fighting my corner, hot tears burn the corners of my eyes. Why do you have to take this stuff so personally? ask the intellectual, clever, and engaged men, who have never considered that the content of the abstract exercise that’s so much fun for them is the stuff of my life.”
I am not arguing for fun, I don’t think I’m being some kind of intellectual bully—but I object to constraining my speech for reasons I do not understand.
I never found that one convincing. Clever arguing for fun seems to be a personality trait much more than a function of topic. I know I’ve toyed with the stuff of my life until my interlocutor with no stakes blew their top.
one of the really core issues trans people face is invalidation of our identities
One of the interesting sub-issues here is whether one naturalizes gender or regards it as a construct. That is, a person might defend their right to be regarded as female or male despite their birth anatomy, on the grounds that this has always been their true gender; or they might defend it on the grounds that gender is a person’s choice. I see much greater cultural receptivity to the first idea, and yet I also see fantasy, socialization, and escape from contingent gender norms playing a large role in why people want to transition.
I see much greater cultural receptivity to the first idea, and yet I also see fantasy, socialization, and escape from contingent gender norms playing a large role in why people want to transition.
I’m not quite sure what you’re pointing at, but suffice it to say, the dialogue around this is skewed by history: recognition of trans people as a distinct group (in the West) was pretty much driven by the psychiatric system, and controlled by gatekeepers who basically had veto authority over whether you’d get access to support, hormones and surgery. These gatekeepers used their own personal aesthetics to filter patients, often in very blatant ways (“could I see myself being attracted to this person if they were presenting en femme”, as an example); their theories and inside jargon also became the basis for what they told patients was going on with them, and what they felt constituted evidence of that.
The trans communities with seniority and connections mostly date back to this. They used to have nearly absolute power to shape the dialogue; that changed by and by, with the internet as a resource for gathering and talking, but the fingerprints of that period are still all over trans communities on and offline. There’s a generation gap effect; on one side you get mostly trans folks who remember those days directly and are much more likely to conceive of their identity in such terms, and on the other side you have a big scattering of various ideas about and attitudes to transition, facilitated imperfectly by medical practitioners who take a more pragmatic, nuanced line about the issue.
I think the shortest benign and obvious replacement I’ve seen is “transfolk;” “trans*” is shorter but not nearly as clear. Are there other replacements you would recommend?
As a trans person: Use trans as an adjective, and with about the same heuristics you would for noting some other aspect of a person.
“Cindy is a tall woman” is socially-comfy if it’s relevant that Cindy is tall. If you always refer to Cindy as a “tall woman” specifically, omitting opportunities to drop the adjective or including it even where it’s not obviously pertinent information, it usually comes across as awkward. If you emphasize it or bring it up pretty much at random even in situations where it’s clearly not relevant, people begin to notice the unusual emphasis you place on it and wonder if there’s some reason you’re doing it: Does Vaniver dislike tall women for some reason? Or find the idea so difficult to take at face value, when paired with the more obvious, mundane, un-adjectived noun that they cannot not notice it? The difference is that since most cis people don’t know anyone who’s trans and aren’t reliably given the cultural context for understanding and including us in their “just folks” category, the fact that someone is trans can seem disproportionately interesting or relevant. Your best bet is to counter for that—not necessarily ignoring that someone is trans, but not calling special attention to it either.
Different people also have different preferences, of course, but it tends to signal casual acceptance and respect for trans folk to a pretty thorough extent.
Sure. To make the purpose of the grandparent comment more explicit: I find that adding object-level positive examples to my suggestions makes people more likely to act on them. If all someone knows is that tranny is a slur, and they want to refer to trans people in general, then tranny is still the most available word. They have to choose in the moment between making their point conveniently and impolitely or spending time determining how to make that point politely (maybe ‘people who are trans’? Yeesh, that’s so long). Giving them a tool- “instead of using tranny, why not use ‘transfolk’?” that respects their concerns (it’s hopefully intelligible to outsiders, about as short, memorable, and they have another person’s judgment that it’s not likely to be considered a slur) signals mutual understanding and is more useful to them.
Except some fair portion of trans people do find it alienating and weird when it’s affixed to the word like that. “Use ‘trans’ like you’d use the words “tall” or “blonde” to describe somebody” doesn’t have nearly as wide an exceptional case and it’s also very easy to remember.
What, really? I have never seen this. Why? Who?
Well, m’self for one. Any number of other trans people I’ve met in person and online.
As for the why: one of the really core issues trans people face is invalidation of our identities, both overt and subtle. Marking us off as “other” in situations where it’s not relevant is a part of that—even non-bigoted folks often consciously or subconsciously perceive us as not really who we claim to be, and while they don’t wish to antagonize us directly, they can’t quite bring themselves to take our claims of being men or women at face value, at par with those of cis people. (Not even getting to what nonbinary folks face there.)
One thing some of us have observed is that using “trans-” as a prefix is a way to keep us comfortably-other, mostly in a subconscious way. Would you expect to ever see someone regularly and preferentially referring to Alice as a blondewoman, or Sally as a fatwoman, or Cheryl as a blackwoman? Not barring some kind of long-term shift in colloquial English use.
Basically, for some trans folks “transwoman” and “transman” just come off as fenced off from “woman” and “man” in a way that amounts to a sort of compromise, one we aren’t comfy with. This is not universal; even for people who have that pet peeve, it’s not something they always bring up at every juncture, but it’s probably worthwhile to know about.
But the term that was suggested in the ancestor to which you objected was “transfolk”. I can see—barely—the issue with “transman” and “transwoman”, but I don’t comprehend the implied extension to “transfolk”.
Not sure I have the energy at this point. Trying to explain stuff like this in a space like this feels a bit like whispering into a tornado.
Further thought, now in relevant quote form (translate as appropriate):
“There are the occasions that men—intellectual men, clever men, engaged men—insist on playing devil’s advocate, desirous of a debate on some aspect of feminist theory or reproductive rights or some other subject generally filed under the heading: Women’s Issues. These intellectual, clever, engaged men want to endlessly probe my argument for weaknesses, want to wrestle over details, want to argue just for fun—and they wonder, these intellectual, clever, engaged men, why my voice keeps raising and why my face is flushed and why, after an hour of fighting my corner, hot tears burn the corners of my eyes. Why do you have to take this stuff so personally? ask the intellectual, clever, and engaged men, who have never considered that the content of the abstract exercise that’s so much fun for them is the stuff of my life.”
I am not arguing for fun, I don’t think I’m being some kind of intellectual bully—but I object to constraining my speech for reasons I do not understand.
I never found that one convincing. Clever arguing for fun seems to be a personality trait much more than a function of topic. I know I’ve toyed with the stuff of my life until my interlocutor with no stakes blew their top.
One of the interesting sub-issues here is whether one naturalizes gender or regards it as a construct. That is, a person might defend their right to be regarded as female or male despite their birth anatomy, on the grounds that this has always been their true gender; or they might defend it on the grounds that gender is a person’s choice. I see much greater cultural receptivity to the first idea, and yet I also see fantasy, socialization, and escape from contingent gender norms playing a large role in why people want to transition.
I’m not quite sure what you’re pointing at, but suffice it to say, the dialogue around this is skewed by history: recognition of trans people as a distinct group (in the West) was pretty much driven by the psychiatric system, and controlled by gatekeepers who basically had veto authority over whether you’d get access to support, hormones and surgery. These gatekeepers used their own personal aesthetics to filter patients, often in very blatant ways (“could I see myself being attracted to this person if they were presenting en femme”, as an example); their theories and inside jargon also became the basis for what they told patients was going on with them, and what they felt constituted evidence of that.
The trans communities with seniority and connections mostly date back to this. They used to have nearly absolute power to shape the dialogue; that changed by and by, with the internet as a resource for gathering and talking, but the fingerprints of that period are still all over trans communities on and offline. There’s a generation gap effect; on one side you get mostly trans folks who remember those days directly and are much more likely to conceive of their identity in such terms, and on the other side you have a big scattering of various ideas about and attitudes to transition, facilitated imperfectly by medical practitioners who take a more pragmatic, nuanced line about the issue.
I sometimes say “transpersons”, but “transfolk” or just “trans people” is probably the best thing.