Tag Archives: queer

HB2: Legislating Bigotry

by Jay Parr

Last Wednesday, March 23, the North Carolina General Assembly convened in its Second Extra Session of the 2016 legislative yearan “emergency” session, with the request for that session and the proclamation that it would be held both filed by the clerk only one day before. The session convened at 10:00 AM, and a new bill was introduced in the state house of representatives. It was debated and amended and passed in the span of five hours, the final vote taking place at 3:04 PM. From there it was passed on to the state senate, where it passed its final vote a little over three hours later, at 6:29 PM. Forty-five minutes after that, at 7:14 PM, Governor Pat McCrory tweeted that he had signed it into law.


That law takes effect today, April 1, 2016. April Fools’ Day. There’s probably some joke about putting such misguided legislation into effect on this, of all days, but you can rest assured that this post is not an April Fools’ Day prank.


I’m the first to admit that I understand very little of what Governor McCrory or the NC General Administration has done in recent years, so it was no surprise to me to learn that they had done something else I found totally baffling. I was, however, a little surprised that they had convened an emergency session to do something I found totally so baffling about something that was so far from an emergency. McCrory’s next tweet, two minutes later, purported to provide something of a justification.


The “Ordinance” to which McCrory refers here is a nondiscrimination ordinance that was set to go into effect in Charlotte today, which would have added “marital status, familial status, sexual orientation, gender identity, [and] gender expression” to the list of protected statuses in such areas as housing and employment, and would have implicitly allowed transgender people to use the restroom facilities best corresponding to their gender identity. That is, it removed the old verbiage more or less requiring this transgendered woman to apply her lipstick in the bathroom with the urinals behind her.


As an aside, I found it interesting that both of McCrory’s tweets used precious characters to invoke the word “bipartisan.” That emphasis prompted me to go look. What I found was far from anything I would describe as bipartisan. The representatives calling for the special session were all Republican, with every Republican representative except one (Chuck McGrady of Henderson) joining the call. No Democrat called for it, nor did NC’s one unaffiliated representative. The thirty-six sponsors of the bill, including the four primary sponsors, were all Republican. In the House vote, every Republican representative got in line with an aye vote. Most of the Democrats and that one unaffiliated representative voted nay. When the bill came to a vote in the senate, the entire Democratic side of the aisle walked out in protest. That bears repeating: Every single Democratic state senator walked out of the senate vote in protest. There were, however, eleven Democratic representatives back in the house, mostly from relatively conservative rural districts, who for some reason or another voted aye. I guess those eleven votes are where McCrory gets his claim that it was “bipartisan.”


While we’re unpacking those tweets, let’s take a look at McCrory’s phrase about the Charlotte ordinance, “allowing men to use women’s bathroom/locker room.” If you read the ordinance deemed so objectionable as to warrant an emergency session of the state legislature, the only relevant language (on p.4, under Section 3) is as follows:

“It shall be unlawful to deny any person the full and equal enjoyment of the goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, and accommodations of a place of public accommodation because of race, color, religion, sex, marital status, familial status, sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, or national origin.” (PDF)

That language does replace some language specifically excluding “[r]estrooms, shower rooms, bathhouses and similar facilities which are in their nature distinctly private” (the struck-through language on the PDF), but it’s a bit of a stretch to portray it as opening the door for me, as a cisgendered male, to pull on a dress and go lurking about in the ladies’ room.

But that’s the bogeyman that was invoked. This guy. Lurking in the bathroom. Waiting for your wife and daughter.


For the record, that guy’s at a movie with his young niece, who wanted to wear her Cinderella dress but was worried about being teased, so he dressed up in a Cinderella dress along with her. That guy has more cojones than the entire NC General Assembly combined. But I digress.

McCrory’s tweet only works if you define a transgendered woman as a “man.” The only way to define a transgendered woman as a man is to completely ignore the complexity of sex, assigned sex, gender, gender identity, and gender expression. That is, to define a trans woman as a man, you have to insist that one’s gender expression is always dictated entirelyand solelyby the contents of his or her first diaper. You have to insist that sex=gender, always, and without exception, and you basically have to insist that your [sex=gender] equation is always binary, male or female, and deny the existence of intersex people. It’s a slippery slope, even if you dictate your definitions entirely by biology. I give you Pidgeon Pagonis, one of the hundreds of thousands of Americans born neither entirely male nor entirely female, but basically a little bit of both.


Of course, we as a culture have a history of being threatened by exceptions to binary gender. We revile people who do not conform to the gender norms of their assigned sex, and we take it so far as to view a stay-at-home dad as a worthless freeloader and the career-oriented mom who supports him as a heartless, distant, and probably unfit mother. And that’s a couple that is entirely heteronormative. A woman born male, or as she is more commonly described, a “man who wants to be a woman,” just gives Americans the willies. We are so attached to the notion of binary gender that when a baby is born intersex, our first cultural and medical impulse is to subject that baby to “corrective” surgery, to “fix” those nonconforming genitals, and we continue to do so despite the fact that those surgeries are literally a form of genital mutilation, and despite overwhelming evidence that it is both medically and psychologically damaging to the child, and to the adult that child will become. With a background like that, it’s no wonder that certain segments of our population panic at the notion of “penises in women’s rooms.”


But let’s talk for a moment about the utter paucity of evidence indicating that any transgendered person anywhere in the United States has engaged in sexual misconduct in a public bathroom, let alone sexual harassment or predatory misconduct toward a cisgendered victim. You have most likely shared a public restroom with a transgendered person on at least one occasion and never knew it. In fact, despite there being some seven thousand transgendered people for every US senator in the country, you’re more likely to be groped by a senator.


There is, on the other hand, ample evidence of transgender people being harassed, assaulted, and even killed for using public restrooms. Reliable statistics are hard to find, because many law enforcement agencies have only recently begun tracking gender nonconformity as an impetus for hate crimes, but the vast majority of transgender people report having been harassed and bullied, often in bathrooms, usually beginning as early as elementary school. Many have feared for their lives. Many have been physically assaulted. Too many have been killed. To quote an article that appeared in the scholarly journal Aggression and Violent Behavior a few years back:

“[S]ources indicate that violence against transgender people starts early in life, that transgender people are at risk for multiple types and incidences of violence, and that this threat lasts throughout their lives. In addition, transgender people seem to have particularly high risk for sexual violence.” (14.3, pp 170-179)


According to FBI hate-crime statistics for 2014 (which was only the second year gender identity was tracked), “the number of violent crimes motivated by the victim’s gender identity tripled from the year before” (ThinkProgress). Now, we can attribute that jump to a system that’s just starting to track those statistics, but if we go over to the US Department of Justice’s Office for Victims of Crime, we find this little gem about how safe any trans woman really is anywhere:

“50 percent of people who died in violent hate crimes against lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) people were transgender women[…]. Sexual assault and/or genital mutilation before or after their murders was a frequent occurrence.” (ovc.gov)

Let’s break that quote down a little: Transgender women, who account for maybe five percent of the LGBTQ population, account for half of those killed in hate crimes. Oh, and they’re likely to get raped and/or mutilated in the process. No wonder Madeline Goss doesn’t want to go in the men’s room.


Meanwhile, over in the ladies’ room, the women who are supposed to be “protected” by this law are now legally required to share it with this guy.


Sheffield’s tweet went viral, and while he admits that “It’s super funny to think about some bearded hillbilly in a stall next to the governor’s wife while she clutches her pearls,” the reality of the situation is actually a lot darker, and a whole lot more dangerous for the trans person.

“I can follow the law and go into the women’s room in a state that’s a Stand Your Ground state with a very liberal open carry law, and if I do that, are women gonna stop and ask me if I’m trans? Or are they just going to shoot me because they think I really am a predator because all they see is some bearded guy walking into the women’s room?” (Mic)

Now, this is a guy who can pass comfortably as a cisgendered man, so in reality, he can most likely continue to use the men’s room (in a closed stall, of course) and no one will be the wiser. But what about all the transgendered folks who are early in transition and don’t pass comfortably as either binary gender? What about the genderqueer folk who aren’t comfortable on either side of the gender binary, or the intersex people who don’t biologically fit into either side of the gender binary? Heck, what about the men who just plain have a really feminine physicality? Or the women who just have a really masculine one? Is it justice to force these people into an artificially imposed binary? Is it justice to force them into the room where they are exponentially more likely to be harassed, bullied, assaulted, and even murdered? All so we heteronormative cisgendered folk can avoid maybe being a little uncomfortable? I mean seriously, which bathroom would you have this person use?


Let us not forget that transgender people are already a threatened demographic. Reliable statistics are hard to nail down, because the population has been largely ignored by law-enforcement agencies and social-science researchers alike, so the numbers that are available are usually self-reported and from relatively small sample sizes, so they tend to have wide margins of error. But what they do tell us without a doubt is that most transgender people experience harassment and bullying, usually beginning at a young age, and often coming from figures of authority. They tell us that somewhere around half of transgendered people are rejected by their own families. They tell us transgendered people are orders of magnitude more likely to be homeless, or to be denied basic services, or to have significant mental health issues such as major clinical depressiongee, I wonder whyand that somewhere between one third and one half of all transgender people have attempted to commit suicide at some point in the past.


If you need something a little more personal than statistics, and if you feel like watching a brilliant movie that’s admittedly a little hard to watch, pop over and check out Boys Don’t Cry (1999), starring Hilary Swank in what is arguably her best acting turn ever, as 21-year-old trans man Brandon Teena, who was raped and murdered in 1993 when his cover was blown (Wikipedia). Here’s a trailer that links right to the full-length film.

The McCrory administration and the General Assembly don’t seem to have sought out any of these statistics, or to have considered the impact their actions would have on an already-marginalized and endangered population, before springing into action. Instead, they seem to have done just as they did with Amendment One a few years ago. In yet another decidedly anti-intellectual action, they seem to have acted on ignorance, out of irrational fear of an unsubstantiated bogeyman, to protect a privileged class from having to potentially step outside of their comfort zone a little, and in the process, throwing an already underprivileged classof folks people who are already marginalized by society and by the legal systemunder the bus.


As for McCrory’s rhetoric of the Charlotte ordinance “putting our women and children at risk,” that sounds to me like a thinly-veiled version of Hermann Goering’s “[T]ell them they are being attacked” tactic. After reading some other analyses of HB2, I’m also not entirely certain to what extent the whole mishegas was about some of the other powers that were quietly wrested from the municipalities and consolidated at the state level, such as the authority to determine the terms for public-bidding contracts or to set local a minimum wage. We don’t have space to explore those details here.


Looking at this issue from a more global perspective, I have to point out the fact that all-gender toilet and bathing practices have been common throughout much of the world and throughout much of history, and at levels of social organization ranging from nomadic bands to advanced state-level societies. In much of the world men and women and children, young and old alike, have bathed and do bathe in common, communal spaces, and have and do use common, communal toilet facilities. In some cases those are little more than latrines. In some cases they are advanced bathroom facilities that are designed from the ground up to be shared by members of either (or any) gender. They are almost universally a safe space, policed by the guidelines of community etiquette and often by an additional subset of bath- or toilet-specific etiquette, and they are almost never a space marked by heightened sexual energy, harassment, or bullying.


If we could adopt attitudes more like that in the US, it would certainly take some of the angst out of this who-uses-which-bathroom issue. Unfortunately, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. We’re too steeped in our puritanical taboos about any sort of bodily functions, and our insistence on equating any level of nudity with sex, and our amazingly strong cultural taboos about sexuality and sexual expression outside of a very narrow set of parameters driven mostly by, interestingly enough, the marketing industry.

Maybe if we could get the marketing industry to normalize nonbinary gender, then we wouldn’t have laws that force someone (who just needs to pee) into a situation where (s)he is quite so likely to encounter violence just for existing. Maybe we could create a culture where someone doesn’t have to carry these cards around in his pockets to try to defuse the situation that is sure to arise.


The silver lining to all this just may be that it seems to have opened up a new conversation about trans issues. Maybe, just as Amendment One did, it will help raise enough awareness to tip the balance of public opinion. That’s the best possible outcome I can think of. But until this situation is solved and trans folk can safely use the bathroom that corresponds to their gender identity, the bathroom in my office is open to anyone who needs it. It’s the least I can do.


Loving Day, Once Again

by Joyce Clapp


Today is Loving Day, the anniversary of June 12, 1967, when the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that interracial marriage had to be performed and recognized in all 50 states (Loving v. Virginia). It is also a day by which we may or may not know how the Supreme Court is going to rule on a similar issue: Same-sex marriage (as of this writing, we don’t know yet). I’ve spent the last week Googling “SCOTUS” every couple of hours, knowing full well that if they didn’t announce on Monday that they weren’t likely to announce for the rest of week, and also knowing full well that when they did announce, it would hit Facebook and Twitter within minutes. And yet…I kept checking.

It is odd, waiting for SCOTUS to decide if you’re married. Well, if you’re legally married. Well, if you’re legally married in all 50 states, since you are already legally married in 36 states and may very well stay married in some of those states regardless of what the Supreme Court does. And thankfully, your mother says you’re married, no matter what SCOTUS does. I spend a lot of time lately feeling faintly queasy. I can only imagine how those of our friends that have children with their same-sex spouses feel, considering the implications there.


I can only begin to imagine what Richard and Mildred Loving felt like, around this time in 1967. Interracial couples were not nearly as common as they are now, and the U.S. was living through a really hard time. It’s not that we aren’t living through a time of gaping inequality and racial tensions now (let’s not kid ourselves), but it was worse in 1967. Brown v. Board of Education was just a touch over 15 years old and most schools were still in some state of segregation (the more things change, right?). Malcolm X had been assassinated only two years previously. The 1960s were a decade when we saw church bombings, the Civil Rights marches in the South, and the Freedom Riders doing their work because interstate busses were still segregated. This wasn’t an easy time to be an interracial couple.

“Tell the court I love my wife, and it is just unfair that I can’t live with her in Virginia.” (Richard Loving)

So I can’t imagine sitting in my home in Washington D.C. with my children, waiting to see if I was going to be allowed to move home with my family to a state where not ten years previously, sheriff’s deputies had stormed my home, barged into my bedroom, arrested myself and my spouse, and said of the marriage certificate on my wall, “That’s no good here.


My wife and I are fortunate to be married in a different United States. We are on the side of history. We went out recently for a ghost tour of Greensboro and we weren’t the only interracial couple on the tour. At my wife’s brother’s wedding recently, we were 1 of 5 interracial couples present, including two guys showing off recent engagement rings and grinning like mad. We held hands through visiting the zoo and only garnered a couple of dirty looks. The lesbian character in Pitch Perfect 2, which we saw recently, volunteers that she’s moving to Maine and getting hitched, and it’s a non-event (other than a lot of happy squeals). My non-straight students wander in to my office to talk about wedding plans and ask relationship advice just like anyone else, because they are just like anyone else. My straight students ask me how spring break with my wife was, just like we’re anyone else, because we are just like anyone else (and then they ask me relationship advice and what they should do about that Spanish class).

And in the meantime, we wait nervously to see if SCOTUS is going to catch up with history and society, whether the story is going to be ‘we didn’t want redefine marriage’ (an institution that I’m glad has been ‘redefined’ over the years – who wants to be their husband’s property?), or whether the justices are going to look at the words from 1967 and do their job:

Marriage is one of the “basic civil rights of man,” fundamental to our very existence and survival… To deny this fundamental freedom on so unsupportable a basis as the racial classifications embodied in these statutes, classifications so directly subversive of the principle of equality at the heart of the Fourteenth Amendment, is surely to deprive all the State’s citizens of liberty without due process of law. The Fourteenth Amendment requires that the freedom of choice to marry not be restricted by invidious racial discriminations. Under our Constitution, the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual, and cannot be infringed by the State. (Chief Justice Warren)

The obligatory rings picture, taken on on our legal anniversary.

The obligatory rings picture, taken on on our legal anniversary.

I felt like I was going to have something long and impassioned and sociological to say when I signed up for posting for Loving Day, one of those nice chewy posts that make good reading and discussion. But that’s not the case today. It’s simple. I love my wife, I’m lucky I can live with her in this time and place, and I’m lucky that in North Carolina right now, she inherits if I die, and I can call the Veterans Administration for her, and we can make medical decisions for each other without gobs of very expensive, possibly legally shaky paperwork. I hope that in the eyes of the law, we remain legally married after the Supreme Court makes its decision.

Come On Out! It’s National Coming Out Day

by Joyce Clapp

Banners at Elliot University Center

Banners at Elliot University Center

I took this picture outside of the Elliot University Center last week, and posted it to my Facebook, along with the caption “I do so love working here”, and it’s true. I’m truly lucky in where I work, and I’m lucky that I can be out at UNCG.

UNCG is proud to celebrate LGBTQ History Month

“UNCG is proud to celebrate LGBTQ History Month”

I’m a professor in the Sociology department in addition to working with the BLS Program, and one thing that we social scientists talk about a lot is privilege. Being out carries privilege and is a privilege, even if we don’t always think of it that way. Being out requires supportive coworkers, family, friends, and communities. Being out involves hoping that you’re not at risk by virtue of being out. At risk can mean many things—being at risk physically or at risk for being fired (sexuality is not a nationally protected EEOC class, and is not protected in North Carolina). We worry about the risk of losing friends or family. We worry about being the target of bullying.

However, being out is also important, for those of us who live and work in places where it is safe to be so. Being out normalizes not being straight and having a non-standard gender presentation. The more we’re out, the more it’s safe to be out—until, hopefully, it will be safe for everyone. Until then, those of us who can be out should be out, and shouldn’t criticize those who can’t in the circumstances they’re in.

National Coming Out Day logo by Keith Haring (1988)

National Coming Out Day logo by Keith Haring (1988)

So, in honor of National Coming Out Day, I just want to say that my name is Joyce. I’m genderqueer, a masculine-leaning woman, or just a woman depending on the day and how I’m contrary I’m feeling that day. (“Why do I need to qualify as ‘masculine-leaning woman’?  Can’t ‘woman’ just look like this? Why do we have to attach adjectives to it?”) I’m sapiosexual, pansexual, or bisexual depending on the audience and how much explaining I feel like doing. I also teach sociology, read too many books when I have time, love to cook, and live with the cutest dog on the planet (who is very lucky that he is so cute).

UNCG is not perfect on these issues—no institution is. But UNCG is good. I feel so lucky to work in a place where I can post something like this on a school blog, or mention my sexuality in class (in context, of course—we were discussing minority and majority relations) and have it not be a big deal. I’m sure someone has thought something about it at one point or the other, but I have never had one person criticize my sexuality or gender presentation in going on seven years at UNCG, and that’s an amazing thing. Our society has changed so much in the last few years, and I would never have dreamed many years ago when I first came out, that I’d be able to live in the society we do and write something like this. Here’s to things continuing to get better, for all of us—no matter who we love or how.

So, happy GLBTQIA2 history month, and happy National Coming Out Day!

A few resources:

Link to UNCG Pride on Facebook

Link to UNCG Pride on Facebook

LGBTQ Community at the Office of Multicultural Affairs

UNCG Safe Zone

National Coming Out Day page at Human Rights Campaign