Gender Is A Spectrum

I am only going to say this once: No-one is trying to take gender out of society. What is happening is a steady realisation there’s is far more than the classic ‘two genders’ we’ve been saddled with and had hammered into our heads until recently. Gender, like many other things is more of a spectrum than a series of absolutes.

People are born, some identify as the sex they were assigned as at birth, others don’t. Those who don’t take various steps so they can present as the gender they feel they are. For some people like myself that means transitioning from male to female, or vice-versa. For some, they feel neither one suits them. Some days they feel more masculine or feminine and present as such, or a mix. I know, I used to do this too. Before I worked things out I thought I was non-binary or agender and dressed and presented according to how I felt.

So why am I writing a crash course in gender identity? Well once again I and a swathe of people are yet again having to defend ourselves from bigoted idiots and people who are sycophants to said bigots who should know better than most that toadying up to them is a bad idea. Piers Morgan and India Willoughby for those who aren’t in the know.

The fact the latter is a trans woman of considerable fame, and I presume knows what it’s like to have their gender identity questioned, poked, prodded and outright denied, derided and ridiculed by some is galling indeed, especially given their extremely poor choice of language while trying to defend her attitudes which are coming across more and more as transphobic, sexist and out of touch with what most of us have to deal on a day to day basis.

Siding with a well known transphobic, bigoted idiot like Morgan after his puerile attempts to invalidate Fox Fisher and Owl’s gender identity on national television is a slap in the face to transgender people. Once again we have a celebrity who thinks they’re the big ‘I am’ and profiting off of their transition screwing the rest of us over, either because they are not realising how much damage they are causing through their actions or just showing their true colours, then playing victim when the inevitable backlash hits.

Sorry, but you can’t have your cake and eat it. You want to tell your story and make some money off of it, fine, but don’t you dare shit on the rest of us doing so. You wanted to show the world your transition and show people you can transition and your life can be a success. That is inevitably going to make you a role model to many people who are going through similar struggles. If you want to be a shitty role model, like Caitlyn Jenner, we’ll call you out for it, like we do with her.

You don’t get anything for free. You have fame and money, but the price you pay is you become a role model, like it or not and role models need to be very aware of what they say and do or be held accountable. If you want to continue being a shitty person over all of this, and let’s face it, you are developing a track record for shitting on people who don’t conform to your perceptions (the incident where she invalidated every trans/non-binary person who don’t/can’t medically transition a while back), you are going to fall from grace very quick. The wheel of time will turn and you will become an irrelevance, much like the dross you’re appeasing through your actions. That is a promise and a forecast.

You’re not the only one who’s fought decades to become the person they felt they should be. Some of us are quite capable of doing this without invalidating those who’s journey don’t mirror our own.

 

 

 

Stuff Your Jobs

So our supposedly esteemed leader (that no-one actually voted for) this week claimed there are ‘boy jobs and girl jobs’ at home earlier on this week. Yup, 2017 has reached peak table flipping madness with the prime minister coming out with this guff that belongs in the 1950’s. Excuse me while I call this out for the bullshit that it is.

It did get me thinking though, particularly after Mia Violet highlighted on Twitter in her usual fun and satirical way what would happen in a household where men aren’t present. At home there’s me and Rebecca, we’ve both come from a background where we’ve had to learn all sorts of life skills and interests that probably aren’t considered all that girly. Rebecca’s got extensive knowledge in DIY through work and has practical hobbies such as getting her 3D printer up and going, as she was doing so yesterday.

I too am no stranger to DIY, and know a bit about cars and bikes, enough to do things like change spark plugs and oil. admittedly it’s not stuff I really want to do but it’s simple enough to do and a money saver too. As for the domestic stuff? Well we both do all that too though opening jars is a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult for us both.

The thing is, this has also got me thinking back to my upbringing. I’ve come from a family where this idea of there being boy jobs and girl jobs never really existed. Mum and dad both worked from home and both fitted work around stuff like getting us to and from school, clubs and so on.

I remember moving into the old family home almost 30 years ago and helping mum and dad with chiselling room after room of fuck-awful woodchip wall paper off of the walls. Sure, dad was better at the decoration side of things, he was better than most professionals at that, but mum was no slouch. She can paint and pout things on walls. The other week she used a power drill and put up two hanging basket brackets and a garden hose reel.

Yes, mum did most of the cooking, but cooking is a passion of hers. As it turns out dad was a pretty good cook himself. He did a full Sunday roast the day mum came home with my youngest sister for instance, he’d cook when mum was ill and both mum and dad knew their way around a barbecue. Dad would help with serving up Sunday dinner and tidying up afterwards and he’d do his fair share of the cleaning around the house, especially as mum’s back got worse. He always could get more stuff to fit in the dishwasher than any of us.

I remember long car rides to various places we went on holiday. Mum would have the map out and navigating for dad in between plying us with sweets to prevent WWIII breaking out between me and my sisters so he could focus on driving. I earlier mentioned being somewhat handy with cars and bikes. Bet you’re wondering who taught me what I knew? Must be dad? You’d be wrong. Dad hated doing that kind of thing, which I found slightly odd given he was a practical and hands on person between his DIY skills and his work as a draughtsman. No, the car stuff was self taught at a time when I didn’t have the money to pay someone else to do it for me.

All in all, having this kind of upbringing has served me well as I ended up learning all sorts of life skills without this toxic thinking that a particular job was for men to do or for women. I’m also pleased my sister is imparting this upon her kids as they grow up. People really need to start thinking about what they say before they say it, especially those who are in a position that holds a lot of sway and influence.

The Great Scrapyard In The Sky

Yup, that’s where my bike’s headed, I’ve officially had enough of trying to keep the thing going. A week ago and fifteen miles away from home I turned the key in the ignition to be greeted by a whole load of nothing. the battery and fuse check out as being ok but something in the electrical system’s given out, so that’s that.

In theory I could pull the bike to bits, track down the issue and fix it, but I can’t be bothered, and the way it’s been the past couple of months even if I did get it going again it’d only be a matter of time before something else went wrong and screwed me over. It’s been sitting  where it got dropped off a week ago and though I’ve had more than enough time to investigate things I’ve had zero inclination to do so. I’ve got the tools and possibly the know how to fix this. Even if I did fix it I now have zero confidence in going anywhere and getting back again.

I’ve not long replaced the spark plug, done an oil change and swap over a few hoses that were on the way out. I can strip the back end down to get the wheel off as well, useful when the rear tyre gave up the ghost a while back. However it’s so tiresome to do. I’m not all that keen on spending ages scrubbing my skin raw to get all the muck off after messing around with something mechanical and I sure as hell haven’t got the strength I used to have. HRT and arthritis have seen to that, probably for the best given I used to be able to tighten stuff until I cracked the socket and ratchet, or put enough stress on my joints to really set them off.

More than the less being able to physically do stuff is the fact I’m through sinking time and money into the thing so I’m making arrangements to get rid of it. When it’s gone, that’s me done with bikes, I’m not getting another. I’ve had five years of hooning around on the damn things and lately I’ve been getting fed up with doing this. I’m fed up with wearing enough layers to go on a polar expedition to keep warm and allegedly dry, and wearing a helmet that wrecks my hair. I’m fed up of being jolted about on poor roads and I am especially fed up of being almost taken out while on the damn thing because I apparently ride wearing an invisibility cloak. Even with high visibility clothes and a colourful bike I’ve lost count how many near misses I’ve had with myopic drivers who have pulled out, pulled across or are just being an intimidating dickweed in their vehicles.

The last three months where I’ve had to do a lot of driving for work purposes have driven this home. Funnily enough I only started driving because at the time I was working three separate part time cleaning jobs and was struggling to get about on my pushbike. Being told by my then GP I was tearing my knees to bits cycling was the main reason why I got up and on the road. My ex hated the idea, which probably made me want to do it more. It was also a lot cheaper to go see my family than by train. Faster too as I could get to theirs in 20 minutes or so. Can’t do that now though. These days to get to theirs would be a good couple of hours, impossible with my back. I found that out going to see my nan and granddad one time any more than about half an hour’s my limit on a bike. Any more and my lower back flares up thanks to me jarring it so badly falling while rollerblading when I was 15 or so. I slammed down on the base of my spine hard and it’s never been right since. I hit the same spot again some years later and had trouble with the nerves in my legs for a year or so. I really don’t need anything else to add to that.

Where I live now has a great bus service (provided I don’t get drivers coming onto me, but that’s another story in itself) so I don’t need to drive places very often away from work and whatever my next job will be I’ll be using public transport and walking so all in all the bike is pretty redundant now.

In the not too distant future I shall be learning to drive a car so with that in mind, I’m going to hang up my riding gear and moving on with things.