I can’t really tell you why I’m here saying I’m non-binary instead of saying I’m redefining cishet masculinity. One just feels more true to me than the other, and I say that with huge amounts of love and respect to everyone of all genders.
—Jonathan Alexandratos, “How Geek Culture Made Me Realize I Am Non-Binary”
I’m trans/nonbinary. I use nonbinary pronouns such as they/them, and I came to this bit of self-knowledge through the science fiction and fantasy (SFF) community.
Somewhat surprisingly, I didn’t come to this realization about myself while in college while I minored in women’s & gender studies. I minored in gender studies because I liked thinking and talking about feminism, racial justice, art, culture, politics, and activism. I also really liked talking about gender. I thought that was just because I hated sexism, the patriarchy, and toxic masculinity. In college, I didn’t begin to think: maybe I like talking about gender because I’m trans/nonbinary. And why would I? I knew trans and nonbinary people existed, but they weren’t on my radar.
Back in college, I had heard of nonbinary people, but that was about it. I rarely encountered anyone who was nonbinary or genderqueer. As far as I was aware, I didn’t personally know any trans people. I knew the definitions of transgender and cisgender, but I didn’t know all that much about trans or nonbinary people. I had never really been asked to make space for trans people, and I hardly ever saw others make space for trans people. I rarely came across media representation of trans or nonbinary people, much less good representation, much less consistent good representation.
In my gender studies program, we talked incessantly about how sexuality and gender intersected with race and class, but honestly, we just didn’t talk all that much about trans people, especially nonbinary trans people. I don’t fault my program for that — I graduated from my small Catholic college in 2015. A lot has changed since then. And if I wasn’t going to encounter trans representation while minoring in gender studies, where else would I have come across it?
Turns out I would come across trans voices and narratives in the genre community, specifically in the queer/trans nook of the literary SFF world.
I’ve been a science fiction geek for as long as I can remember, but I really fell down the genre rabbit hole after I graduated from college. In college, I read all kinds of fiction for fun: classics, contemporary literary fiction, adult genre works, children’s stories, etc. But after college, I lost my taste for anything that wasn’t somewhat genre, for anything that wasn’t speculative and/or fantastic. I didn’t have enough genre geek friends in real life, so I tried to connect with the community online. I started writing a monthly short fiction review column for Skiffy and Fanty, and the good folks at Skiffy and Fanty told me to get on Twitter. I was selective about who I followed, and my Twitter feed could have been described quite well as “queer/trans literary SFF.” By “literary,” I mean to draw a contrast between written fiction on one hand and film and television on the other. In my experience, representation in film and television lags significantly behind the written word. (I should probably also draw a contrast between novels and short fiction. As I read more short stories for my review column, it became clear to me that the short fiction scene was doing noticeably better with trans representation.)
Within the queer/trans literary SFF community, I encountered something that I had never before come across: consistent and good representation of trans people. In fiction, I was routinely reading stories that centered trans characters, and through Twitter, podcasts, and the blogosphere, I routinely saw trans people who were seen and accepted by their community. In this world, trans representation was consistent. In this world, trans representation was broad and multifaceted — I came across binary trans people and nonbinary trans people, people in transition and assimilationists, genderfluid people and people who use neopronouns, even (in fiction) societies and cultures with entirely different genders. In this world, trans representation was (often) good in all the other ways that make representation good. I encountered trans/nonbinary #OwnVoices. I read stories that avoided problematic tropes and went beyond trans 101. I came across both tragedies and happy endings, romantic trans heroes and badass trans villains, stories where characters just happened to be trans and stories that were fundamentally about a character’s trans identity. I read stories with trans characters written by trans authors edited by trans editors.
This is not to say that trans representation in SFF is perfect. It’s not. I still would like to see more trans editors. I still want to see more trans people actually getting paid (and then paid fairly) for their work. But when compared to everything else in my life, the queer/trans nook of the literary SFF world sometimes feels like Disneyland. It can be a singularly joyful and shameless place.
I think that’s because trans artists and fans are boldly, bravely, and repeatedly claiming our space, and also because we have allies who are doing the work as well. I also think that SFF stories are especially fertile ground for trans narratives. In our genre, we routinely begin stories in worlds with zero connection to our own, in societies that are fundamentally different. In these worlds, the limitations and prejudices of mainstream culture need not apply. Do you want body-altering tech to be effective and easy to access? No problem. Do you want space cadets and starship captains to wear badges displaying their pronouns for all to see? Done. Do you want to create a culture with five genders? Beautiful, go for it.
As I read these stories, grappled with them in my reviews, and watched these conversations playing out in virtual spaces around me, I went from thinking this is interesting to this is cool. I saw nonbinary people accepted as who they are, and I thought, that’s an option? I started to think I want that and then I realized I … am that.
In my gender studies classes in college, we talked a lot about why good representation is vitally important. I intellectually understood that. But it wasn’t until June 2018 (pride month!) that it finally hit home for me and I understood on a deep emotional level why good representation matters so dang much. I had resigned myself to masculinity. I hated it. I could critique it, I could try to change it, but really I just wanted out from it. Being nonbinary — being neither a man nor a woman, being able to act, dress, and talk how I feel and have people make zero comments or assumptions about my gender — is something that I’ve always wanted. It just never seemed like a valid option in society, like something that people would understand or accept without making inane comments about. But then I discovered the queer/trans literary SFF community, and suddenly it was an actual, honest option. Good representation matters because it wasn’t until I joined this community that I finally realized that me being nonbinary — being who I am — is an option.
Good representation matters because it gives us possibilities. It unlocks rooms within ourselves that dominant culture has locked and hidden. This is nothing new. People have been talking about why representation matters for decades. But what strikes me about my own experience is that (1) it turns out that intellectually knowing that and emotionally understanding that can be two totally separate things, and (2) I understood these arguments for years before my own stake in it became apparent to me. Representation really does delimit the boundaries of what we believe is possible.
I don’t think this essay can be complete without two more things. First, I want to thank Skiffy and Fanty for being such a shining force for positive, diverse SFF fandom. Second, I need to shout out some artists and some reads. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to write this essay today.
- Bogi Takács
- M. Spzara, and in particular: “You Can Make a Dinosaur, but You Can’t Help Me”
- Merc Fenn Wolfmoor, and in particular: “I Sing Against the Silent Sun” (co-written by Ada Hoffmann)
- Charlie Jane Anders, and in particular: episode 14 of her podcast Our Opinions Are Correct: “The rise of transgender science fiction”
- JY Neon Yang, and in particular: The Red Threads of Fortune
- Nino Cipri, and in particular: Finna
- Margaret Killoy, and in particular: The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion
- Andrea Tang’s story “Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings”, published in GlitterShip
- “Beyond 101” by Katherine Cross, Margaret Killjoy, Ana Mardoll, K.M. Szpara, and Vanessa Rose Phin, published in Strange Horizons
- Capricious Issue 9: Gender Diverse Pronouns, edited by Andi C. Buchanan
- Vulture Bones Magazine: Spec Fic from Trans & Enby Voices, edited by B R Sanders
- Provenance by Ann Leckie
Additionally, my friend Emily Rose Win recently interviewed me about trans SFF on her podcast Our Daily Beard. If you’re interested, in that interview I go into much more detail about these stories and others, squeeing and geeking out about how exceptional and brilliant trans SFF can be.
