Intersections of gender and movement

Gender roles have always stood out to me my whole life. As a kid, I remember weighing out the pros and cons of being a man vs a woman in my head and I remember trying to pick which one I would want to be based on gender roles and restrictions. Even as a child, I could tell that men and women moved differently throughout the world. They each had their own set of rules, and they each had drawbacks. I saw that men were expected to do all the work, and maybe even go to war, but they were respected and paid more which I did want. I noticed women were allowed to have emotions, but they were treated like nothing basically. I found myself in a place in-between wishing I could be both. In elementary school I discovered that the word for this feeling was androgyny, and that I was an androgynous person. I wanted no strings attached to the way I act in society. I want to be respected and also allowed to be soft. I feel as if the restrictions placed on gendered individuals is almost taking a part of the human experience away from yourself.

A current day example that I experience as a she/they is having breasts. I’m sure this is a common source of gender dysphoria for many. Having breasts that bounce and move when you walk is such a waving banner that says female. When I wear tight bras or binders, I feel more comfortable. I feel like I’m able to move in the world and I shouldn’t be ashamed of how I am moving. If I am not wearing a binder and I take a hard step, I’m worried that I look like I am trying to get attention or something, but when my breasts are bound, I am free to move and not be noticed. There is a sort of shame surrounded with having breasts, and I have been fighting with that since puberty. I remember actually mourning the loss of my flat chest when I was like 12, I cried, and cried about how I wouldn’t be able to do so many things anymore. Upset that I couldn’t lie down on my stomach, I was upset that I would have to wear uncomfortable bras and be more careful in public. It was just so much of a burden. Looking back I absolutely think I would’ve had the same reaction because they’re truly are a lot of restrictions that come with having breasts and I do still miss having a flat chest.

Dysphoria and Planning in the Mindset of Heads and Tails

Recently, whenever I think of dressing up, I have to consider hair, makeup, and everything else with the outfit. Part of me doesn’t quite understand it, but I do. Internalized transphobia seems to be the thing that people define it as. The forcing of gender expression into a binary. However, I see it as more of a barrier to me feeling truly authentic in my “other” form separate from what I was assigned at birth and socialized in. For me, the binary exists as a struggle to not feel like a fake.

Looking at my face, I keep thinking about getting makeup to cover my face, but then I start thinking about where to keep the makeup and how I would have time to put it on. I look at silicone breastforms and hip pads which would create more of a feminine body, but I have to consider how I would take them to the place I want to change at and how much privacy I would have. This is one of the reasons why being a hatching transfeminine demiflux magnifies the struggles of commuting, and why commuting creates more of a struggle in being a hatching transfeminine demiflux.

That struggle is not being able to bring everything out of the closet when I enter a safe space, so I end up not allowing myself any expression.

I consider myself to be a person that is decent with planning things, but when it’s come to my expression in the past year, I could never have planned for that or the imposter syndrome that would follow. Every time I think about going out wearing a cute outfit and heels and a wig, I have to stop myself and then feel the recoil of stopping myself in such a way.

And after all that, I look at a reflection of myself and feel like a fraud.

That feeling of not being able to express myself and then feeling like that expression does not reflect who I am hurts, and I want to find a way to surpass it, but I feel stuck right now.

How do you force yourself from expressing yourself and still feel like you?

Is there a space between you and not you?

Struggling Mentally

CW: Suicidal Ideation/Mental health

I’ve been struggling with my mental health for a while now. It’s had it’s ups and downs but lately it has mostly been downs and I don’t know how to get out of it. My ADHD and mainly my Major Depression severely impeded my abilities to complete assignments this semester and this was SUPPOSED to be the semester that I graduated. I really wanted to graduate too but at the beginning of the semester I made a mistake when trying to switch my classes around because I didn’t like one of my initial classes that I was enrolled in (Ancient Greek Studies). In order for me to change to a different class that fulfilled the same credit, I had to drop a class that I WAS interested in taking and learning about and when I replaced that class I messed up thinking the new class that I chose fulfilled THAT credit that I needed. My schedule/ track progress went from 100% to 98% but didn’t update until the day AFTER schedule changes closed so I was basically screwed from the start. I ended up having to fill out a late enrollment petition and that only prolonged the process and made me fall further behind in the new course I was trying to enroll in. I did my best to try and remember due dates and turn things in on time but I will admit I still missed a lot of deadlines and it’s just so frustrating when you want to be productive but your executive dysfunction is on another level completely. It’s even worse when you’re self aware of what’s going on as well, like I mean come on, this is literal torture and I don’t know how to break the cycle. People say “Just power through it” but how am I supposed to power through it when I have been passively suicidal on and off (mostly on) for the past few years? Not to mention my parents don’t even know either so that will be SO fun when they find out that I failed YET AGAIN. They don’t understand that I have been asking for a break for a while now but they are tired of waiting for me to finish school and move on with my life. I have little to no motivation to do anything except go out and party with friends because doing that is the only thing right now that has helped me to not actually try to act on any bad thoughts of self harm/unaliving.

Making It Out

My dad made it out and he made sure that I would be able to make a life for myself without the help of anyone but myself. The discussion we had as a class on black bodies in sports, specifically black boys, was one of the more influential discussions I’ve participated in. The significance of sports in the black community as a means of overcoming struggles and adversity has become the standard for black children who are facing hardship. The social structure built around that belief has caused an influx of black children to be drawn away from other means of escaping their circumstances, with the fear and belief that other avenues weren’t built for them and they won’t succeed there. Education is the route that is so overlooked because access and quality were never seen as pillars in predominantly black communities. The same can be said about small village communities in Africa where my father was raised. Instead of sports being the means out of poverty in Africa there was farm work as well as generational labor. Being that this is not what my father wanted for himself and his family he made sure that he got an education and a high level one at that. Education is the one thing that no one can take away from you, he used to say that all throughout my childhood. The goal of professional sports as a career has become so normalized despite the scarcity of spots to fill while education has become something that others are ridiculed for entertaining. When I read more about the origin of the abuse of young black bodies for entertainment I can’t help but feel that the goal was to turn them against education to keep them in lower positions of social status. When I was younger it was almost like he never wanted me to fall in love with sports as I played them in fear that I would repeat the cycle and focus more on them than on education. As I’m sitting in class though i’ve realized it’s taking me as much resolve as a student to graduate as an athlete trying to go pro. That resolve wouldn’t have been where it needed to be had I not seen education as a keystone to improving your circumstances.

Music and Sound

For the past several years, music has been an integral part of my daily life. Whether it be walking around the school campus, attempting to do my schoolwork, or even just idling in my room listening to music, it’s very rare for me to not have something to listen to. In fact, I’m actually listening to music right now as I write this. Besides the ways that music is woven into my daily life, it is also a huge part of my background. I grew up learning how to play the piano, joined the school choir in elementary and middle school, and later joined band and the marching band for the entirety of high school. I’ve always been fascinated by the ways people create and compose music, especially instrumental music. Game soundtracks fall under my interest in instrumental music, with one of my favorite songs of all time, My Castle Town by Toby Fox, being extremely high on my spotify wrapped for the past 3 years (plus me being in his top .005% listeners for 3 years straight). Music also helps keeps my brain ticking whenever I do work since it helps take the “edge” off my procrastination sometimes. Writing on the Wall by Will Stetson in 2023 was my most played spotify song because I had a deadline due and I listened to that song for around 5 hours straight in order to actually focus on my work.

A soundtrack to growth ( And a bit of hope for the future)

As I write this last post for this class, I am both sad and excited for what the future may hold. I am not sure I will ever get to be so vulnerable again on an open  platform like this. It may not mean as much to you all, but I cherish these posts, and I am very excited about the people we are all  growing to be. These last 2 weeks of class stirred many thoughts in me, I hope you find them useful. 

.It is no secret why the many industrial complexes exist; some saw money in places where change should be.They saw the capability in our bodies and knew only one thing, to create a world where it can produce, and convinced us that is what we wanted. Our limbs became a commodity.  All those caught in the cycle are compelled by living, to live today is to need money, and all other opportunities dim in comparison. We are all desperate to survive, there is no focus on what could be different, only what is. Things seem almost impossible to change. And yet,they will.  Our knowing and learning, critiquing and scholarship, or continued efforts to know is the result of that change. Our experience here in higher education is evident of that change. This will change, if we have the continued heart for it, the continuation of efforts from people before us, people with us now, and people we will pass it to in the future.  

The close of any worthwhile venture has always been the hardest part of anything. This is why cliffhangers irritate the soul, bad endings ruin great shows, and poorly written conclusions ruin great essays. In short, I hate endings, I can never finish them, but I will try to sum up things here the best I can.  The process of becoming can be likened to a symphony; Your body sets the tone for growth.  Each time you have found something worthwhile, another instrument begins to play, growing louder the more you feel you know. As you shift, so does your sound, your body moving to different rhythms: pacing you, pulling you, stopping you.  You make sense of the noise of the world as it comes to make up the parts of you. That is why we find music so valuable, it puts into action our humanity; it is us, laid out for everyone to see, and a great musician or song can unite even the most polarized of people. The feeling of finding a song that moves us to cry, to jump, to stretch our hands in the air, to be content; that is resistance in its best form to all that tries to encompass us.   This experience of being here, writing these posts, reading your thoughts, sitting in class has added to my way of knowing myself, I feel I can see things clearer for what they are. I suppose what I’m hoping to say in all of this is thank you (I have learned something), thank you (I have grown somewhere), thank you (for your time reading this post), thank you (for helping me see myself more clearly).

Not Okay

I don’t want to be a stereotype 

Depression has become a trend and it disgust me 

I feel unspecial when I say I have depression like I have to have suicidal problems to speak freely  

Just for ppl to see me 

To see I’m hanging on by a thread 

That I’d rather be dead 

I don’t know why people want to throw that word around

It’s not cute or cool to feel so anxious you can’t  make a sound 

You can’t make a peep but the voices inside of your head are so loud 

The voices I so desperately wanna drown out 

I don’t even remember what I sound like 

When people ask you “how are you” they just want lies

They want to hear about your happiness not hear your fatal cries 

So I just say ” I’m okay” 

“Why just okay” with their faux-concern they say

Okay for me is I’m still living 

I’m still breathing. I’m still giving 

I think I can relate more to a soldier than a civilian 

Consistently reminding myself to take control and breath in 

Because the war inside myself is everlasting 

I can only feel the wisp of happiness in passing 

I don’t know what to say when my therapist ask me what joy would look like

And I’d feel stupid for asking 

When my friends tell me their problems I can’t help but feel envy 

I wish my greatest problem was if a boy liked me 

Instead I have death as an eternal enemy 

Looming over me 

They tell me drama follows me wherever I go 

Like my life can be compared to a theme of a silly sitcom show 

Why don’t you try fighting death ?

Every day I wake up I choose to take another breath 

How’s that for drama? 

Do I have to videotape my panic attacks for everyone to see how screwed  my head is?

Do you want to see the personal hell it created ?

Will you wipe my tears from my eyes 

Will you give me words of love to match my cries?

Will you tell me to live when I feel like I might die ? 

Maybe you will take me seriously then 

And that’s the problem 

I’m not fragile 

I’m not gray with frail bones and I won’t be for awhile

Don’t even think about treating me like I’m senile 

If you believe that I’m dying too how can I live ? 

If you look at me with those pity eyes I don’t think I’ll want to have another breath to give

All I need is an ear 

My fight with death isn’t yours but it could be yours for you to hear 

If you just ask me “what can I do?” instead of “if you’re okay”

Now I might not even know what to say or know how to help me find my way 

But it doesn’t matter 

By asking that one question..my life you might’ve saved 

Don’t ask me if I’m fine 

Cause no, I’m not okay 

My discovery of music

Up until my early high school years, I was not really much of a music person, which some people might consider weird. I was at the lowest point of my life during my high school days, I was depressed. I needed a way to relieve my depression. I struggled to find someone I could talk to. I never tried leaning towards my parents because they always expected me to shake away my emotions. I eventually talked to one of my friends and I was recommended music. As I listened to the, I deeply resonated with the lyrics of the song that I shed tears. It was the first time in my life I thought music had meaning to me on a deeper level. It opened up a new realm of music for me. I then decided to get Spotify and explore everything it had to offer. I started customizing my playlist which consists of my favorite songs and even now, it is still getting updated! I immersed myself to different artists and songs and developed a love towards them and their music. I’m glad I was able to find myself and grow to love music as a whole.

Ever since I found a meaning to music in my life, I listened to it more often, especially when I am studying, working out, or when I’m feeling down. Music had certainly impacted my life positively. I started learning to play the piano and guitar. Whenever I want a space of peace and mind, I play the guitar in my room, as it was a place where I can disregard all my negative emotions and thoughts. Sometimes you just need to have your personal space and really detox yourself.

I can’t imagine not being exposed to the vast variety of music. I probably can’t go a day without it now, and that isn’t an exaggeration! It will forever and always remain in a special place in my heart.

Wear and Tear

A stack of books with an apple on top and a basketball behind the stack. All three item are placed on a desk with a dark backround.

Our discussion about the bodies in athletics really spoke to me because if people knew the intense physicality it takes to play these sports, there would be an uprising. I have recently become aware of the world of collegiate women’s basketball, and it’s wild. It starts with a basic mandatory schedule. This includes 3 hours of practice, an hour of weights, and 2 hours of study hall daily, with one “Off Day” a week. The coaches make these schedules without input from the players, and players are expected to build around them. Players also have to participate in mandatory community service events scheduled by coaches. The university uses these bodies to prove they benefit the community. However, if the team returned from playing an away game the night before, they may not want to attend a 3-hour service event starting at 8 am. The lack of autonomy on a day-to-day basis feels like some sort of new-aged forced labor.

On top of that, a toxic mentality exists in the community of “proving that you want to be here” for the coaches to play one in a game. If they play, they can produce and prove they are valued enough to be invited back to the school and continue their job and education. However, if we break down what it means to “prove you want to be here,” it means exhausting your body beyond its means. With these tiresome schedules, it is implicitly expected for a player to fit extra workouts into their schedules and become straight-A students to show that they are mature enough to manage a work-life balance. Players are physically and mentally exhausted at the end of each day, and it seems impossible to do it all. They do this all while being paid an almost laughable amount of money. The person that I know plays basketball gets paid $500 a month in the cost of attendance money, which amounts to about $2.88 an hour. $2.88 an hour is nowhere near the federal minimum wage of $7.25 an hour, and this does not include programs that do not get paid.

A student with a stack of books in one hand an a soccer ball in the other. They appear to be choosing whether to pursue their education or their sport.

Most of the time, payment is treated as a privilege and not a right when programs complain about the rigor of their jobs. Almost as if to say, “Be quiet and behave because you get paid.” This would be a different response if the team’s racial makeup were not majority black. To pull concepts from Theresa Runstedtler’s article, there is a long history of black bodies being used and abused for white entertainment and profit, starting with slavery, transitioning into sports like boxing in the 19th and 20th centuries, and transforming into our current athletic industrial complex. These systems are so successful only because black bodies are at the bottom. There is something about black bodies working to the bone for very little that sits right with the American spirit. 

I’m not sure what this means for sports. I say this as a die-hard Ravens fan who finds community and city pride in talking football, especially when I am not in Baltimore. But it is impossible to deny the complex into which I feed: the sports industry, like most things, is built in a pyramid, and the bottom is being pushed beyond max capacity.