#thirdgender

This is what I mean when I say I’m 3rd Gender (not something I say offline cause that’s a weird sentence grammatically to say out loud) I mean that my gender is so concrete, so solid in my own mind, but in a way that is neither male nor female.

I know there are cultural specific third gender (Hijras and Muxes come to mind) - but as a White™️ person whose closest connection to “culture” is being raised Catholic & southern, I don’t have a cultural label I can grasp.

It drives me nuts. 

This semester my professor was talking about two-spirit people, and he opened the conversation up more broadly to gender diversity in modern America. And he said something along the lines of “Yeah, we have lots of diversity in this program. I’ve had men, women, and transgender students.” And he said something about two-spirits “tricking” westerners and a few other stupid things I can’t remember.

In the case of two-spirit people, from what I understand at least, they functioned as a third gender, but that is not the way most transgender people work in modern American culture. 

Third Gender Portrayal in Bollywood An Analysis of Sadak

by Toyeba Mushtaq | Dr. Aaliya Ahmed "Third Gender Portrayal in Bollywood: An Analysis of Sadak" 

Published in International Journal of Trend in Scientific Research and Development (ijtsrd), ISSN: 2456-6470, Volume-3 | Issue-3 , April 2019, 

URL: https://www.ijtsrd.com/papers/ijtsrd21636.pdf

Paper URL: https://www.ijtsrd.com/other-scientific-research-area/other/21636/third-gender-portrayal-in-bollywood-an-analysis-of-sadak/toyeba-mushtaq

best international journal, call for paper papers conference, indexed journal

To fashion,

Our existence has had an absence of harmony and I do not understand, my dear, why it has taken you so long to come around. Distressed denim and worn out sneakers because I’ve walked a long way.

Your pace matches mine now. Shoulder to shoulder hand in hand and I’ve never been more enamoured.

You mirror my moves now and our existence and presence together is no longer mocked or looked at with judgemental side-eyes. Instead it is criticised with respect, and criticism can sometimes be the nicest, harshest compliment.

Because you and I are no longer a joke. Or, at least, we are ceasing to be one.

Our beholders see beauty not a comic angle.

Intolerance is now not tolerated.

Isn’t that pretty?

Aren’t we pretty?

There is no valid reason for gender neutrality existing simply because there is no predecessor.

That’s wrong actually. There are predecessors. There is the bird, the male marsh harrier. It assumes the appearance of its female counterpart in order to prevent attacks on itself. Cuttlefish swimming through male dominated areas do the same.

Clownfish are an especially interesting example. The school is headed by the largest female and a submissive male. Once the female dies the male grows to her size and changes his sex.

All clownfish are born hermaphrodites. All of them grow to be males. They rely their growth and their sex on their position in the hierarchy.

The masses like to call gender neutrality a fad. Erasure of the past of the people who deviate from gender norms is common.

Gender neutrality and sex change can be found in nature. It is written in biology, if not history.

People say that you fear what you don’t know.

People say that from fear stems hatred.

But do tell me, why do you hate me then? When you’re supposed to be familiar with me. 

Raama, the great prince with a moon halo above his head and his skin made of night, languidly strolled into the forest with followers at heel, weeping for him to stay;

 staring them in the eye, he smiled and spoke softly;

“Men and women wipe your tears and leave.”

As they left, others stayed.

I am Another.

I am An Other.

I am everything that is rooted into your past, you can betray me but you cannot betray your culture. Your ancestors look down on you as you lie.

Say ,it is the 16th century, men of war with iron faces marched into this country with gun metal boots stomping, and fingers welded into their weapons, screaming,

“DEATH TO CULTURE”

I am outlawed, infamous and silent. 

But the voices within me are so strong and bold that you can still hear me.

“but as with everything that becomes illegal, the third gender community went underground.” (huffpost.com)

Hijras have been known to have the prestige to bless or curse, and they survive off of the products of the perception of their personalities. 

Instead of familiarity and trust due, Humanity, you have had you regraded me with contempt.

There are some, with old bones that show me kindness and acceptance because they feel the past and they feel me in it.

They are good souls.

I hope that one day I will not be regarded.

With eyes meant for strangers, instead with warmth.

I will welcome you as an old friend, Humanity. 

And we will converse without words as I transgress into your culture until you absorb me intimately and remember me as your own.

Defining me.

It is I.

Think of me as this shifting light, never quite defined.

Boxes on boxes on boxes created to stifle and petrify fashion and representation of self. 

I am the light seeping between the cracks…

Defining me would be the ultimate chore, so I’d rather you not try. An unending tiring activity in futility by strangers who tried to hide my existence by putting false boundaries on my being.

I am shapeless liquid without barbed bars.

I am the men’s lucky wrist watch on a dainty kalai.

I am the subtle piercing on a nose sitting in stubble.

I am undefined.