As a queer activist, I am delighted to see Stanford’s live arts groups more aware than ever of how they deal with jokes around sexual orientation. For the most part, I can see them making a conscious effort to curb heterosexist remarks and humor in their dialog and skits. Of course, I still see assertion of hyper-masculinity through the rejection of gayness, the pigeonholing of lesbians as stone butches, and the use of female bisexuals as fodder for straight male fantasies. We operate in a framework where heterosexuality is the norm and often our ideas about attraction and sexuality go unquestioned. Accordingly, all these tropes, and more, are still used — I just see them decreasing in frequency. Instead, I’m seeing now a different, alarming trend: Stanford arts groups are using gender identity as a source of humor.

Perhaps I should offer some examples. I have seen shows that used men dressed in wigs and high heels as stand-ins for “really ugly girls.” This type of drag is not playful, and insults both women and trans women. (A note to my readers: trans is an abbreviation of transgender, which is an umbrella term that encompasses anything outside of the norm that dictates that XY-chromosomed people must be men and XX-chromosomed people, women. Trans women, then, refers to individuals born biologically male but identify as women, regardless of their surgical status). I have seen skits that imply that athletic, overly masculine women “have more balls” than many of their male companions. I have seen dialogs in which the “dangerous surprise” a girl was hiding from her male partner was that she was biologically male. I have seen too many performances that focus on guessing at or questioning an individual’s gender based on the presence of a mustache or certain body characteristics. Yes, these are only instances of theatrical groups showing off their creativity, but in doing so they devalue the identities of several members of our community.

I am not one to curb free sexual expression, or put a damper on anyone’s fun. I think a certain level of gender transgression (or gender****ing as it’s often called) and questioning can be a free-spirited and quite healthy part of an artist’s repertoire. Let me say that another way: gender-play can be fabulous. Stanford’s Queer-Straight Alliance each year hosts Genderfuk, a drag show gala which is indeed fabulous. But the difference here is that Genderfuk probes and deconstructs the gender binary (the idea that gender only comes in two flavors: man and woman), while less self-aware performances only reinforce hurtful norms.  And the most insidious part of this kind of transphobia is that it largely goes unchallenged, and most of us don’t even register it as a fundamentally offensive.

Everyone is negatively affected by gender policing in media and performances. Perpetuating ideas about gender norms boxes us in, and makes us believe there is only one right way to be a man or woman. Yet these norms disproportionately impact queer people, and especially trans-folk. Last week was transgender awareness week on campus, hosted by the Emma Goldman Society for Queer Liberation. One of the guidelines discussed for being a better trans ally was not to tolerate transphobic remarks or humor in public spaces. We would not tolerate outwardly racist, homophobic, or sexist comments in our performances (I hope), so why should transphobic ones be treated any differently?

I realize that gender norms are deeply entrenched in our culture, and that many of us don’t give them a second thought on a day-to-day basis. I’m not asking that everyone immediately break out of this framework (though that would be wonderful!).  I am just hoping to highlight several instances of transphobia on our campus. This is a case where we can take immediate action. If you or your friends are in performing arts groups, I ask that you speak up when you know that something is off and the gender jokes have gone too far. If you are uncertain whether a certain performance borders on offensive, seek advice from groups like Emma Goldman and Queer-Straight Alliance. Yes, I’m asking for some extra work on your parts, dear readers, but I feel you’re smart, talented, and compassionate enough to handle it.

– Janani Balasubramanian ’12