Transgender. Fear. Empathy.
Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash
[Chu News – Life, Prejudice / Mark Chu] I subscribed to HBO’s Max a week or two ago simply because I wanted to watch Last Week Tonight. Though HBO does seem to have many acclaimed shows, after viewing the choices I found I wasn’t too interested.
But then one show attracted my attention, and I watched the whole three seasons (30 episodes) in a few days. The title is Hung; it’s an older show (2009 – 2011), starring Thomas Jane, Jane Adams, Rebecca Creskoff, and Anne Heche. The story is about a high school teacher who due to financial difficulty decides to become a gigolo, and a woman he hooks up with a couple of times becomes his pimp. It’s an interesting treat.
(If you’re sensitive to language and nudity then you probably want to avoid it, as there are quite a few nude scenes; very, very nude. Personally I have no problem with it; it’s just the human body. Our tolerance of violence in media is what worries me way more. Just so you know.)
But I want to specifically talk about a couple of episodes, season 3 episodes 6 and 7. Of course, a bit of a spoiler alert, but I’ll just give a very quick summary.
A young, pretty woman approaches the gigolo for an appointment; they meet and have a good time, though no penetrative sex. Later, however, the gigolo finds out that the “woman” is actually a man (starring Jamie Clayton, a transgender in real life), which scares him and he leaves abruptly. But she explains that she thought he knew cause someone should have told him. She pays good money and wants to bring him to her high school reunion; no sex, just be a company. He grudgingly obliges.
In the beginning of the reunion, because she’s pretty and feminine, everyone at the party is interested and a bit puzzled (who is she?). The gigolo keeps his distance though. But soon, they find out who she is, and all of a sudden she’s looked down on as a freak. Humiliated and heartbroken she leaves in tears. The gigolo, seeing how she is treated, stops her and invites her to a dance. She eventually agrees, and they walk to the middle of the room and slow-dance with everyone staring.
My Evolution
I grew up in a traditional, old Taiwanese culture, and became a devoted Mormon when I was 12. For decades, I was taught that LGBTQ was wrong, a sin, something abnormal and dirty. Being a cis male (identify as male) who is exclusively heterosexual (I often feel my problem is liking women too much), I more or less subscribed to the beliefs, and I’d never seriously stopped and thought about this issue. I still remember when I was on my Mormon mission, one day I read the guidelines of a bishop/branch president about homosexuality and transgender, it had some very strong language: any member who undergoes transgender surgery will be excommunicated, and the doctor who performs the surgery will receive the same punishment if s/he is a member.
The intense rejection shows the emotions of disdain, disgust, and fear. If we think carefully, why are such severe consequences necessary? Changing one’s sex is their own business, they don’t hurt anyone, why bother? A child abuser can still keep their membership and are given so many chances until the whole thing can’t be covered up anymore, why the fear of someone who just wants to be themselves?
I guess we just fear the unknown, and we create monsters in our minds to justify our prejudice.
At around high school, I read a news report about a man who went through surgery to become a woman and then married a rich man. The rich man claimed that she was the best woman he’d ever seen. I remember feeling awkward after reading it: Yikes. In that era, a few TV shows sometimes played a transgender joke: a couple was talking about getting married, but one said to the other, “I have a confession: I used to be a man/woman,” and the partner freaked out. Everyone laughed. I remember asking myself: What would if I found out my girlfriend was a man? I wouldn’t stop anyone from doing the surgery if that was what they wanted, I wouldn’t mock or attack any transgender, but I’d have a hard time accepting my “male-grilfriend” as a possible love interest.
But at that time, I just wasn’t paying attention to it.
Then I started my Ph.D. degree with a research focus on prejudice; my attitudes toward LGBTQ gradually changed—and it became quite awkward. The church taught it was a sin, but then I’d tell my children, “That’s what the church says, but decades of research shows…” which, my kids later said with big smiles, “That confused the hell of us… but we’re glad you taught us that.” To be honest, I’ve made many mistakes as a parent, but on this one I’m glad for what I did.
Though I still didn’t think too much about transgender issues. I’ve never in my life known a transgender person. The only possible experience was in high school. I had a male classmate who was very feminine; his voice was soft and a little high-pitched, and the way he acted, talked, walked were all girl-like. To my knowledge, he wasn’t bullied at all, which is a good thing. We didn’t talk much, and I have no idea if he was indeed transgender—just because he acted like a girl didn’t necessarily mean he saw himself as a girl. All I can say is if I see him today and he is now a she, I won’t be surprised.
After watching the episodes I was touched, so at the dinner table I recounted the story to my wife and younger son. To my surprise, when I depicted the gigolo saying to the woman, “Let’s dance,” suddenly, absolutely not what I expected, I choked a little, cause I saw her face with a tear rolling down.
I recognized that face.
I recognized that face: It’s the face when you know no one believes in you and no one sees you; they only treat you as a joke. It’s the face when you realize you’re so lonely in the world. I think we all can relate to it. Going through a tough childhood and as an Asian who speaks English as a second language here in America, I surely can, at least to some degree.
I also admitted to them that I knew I had at least some implicit, unconscious bias toward transgender people; in fact, I’d hesitate if I learned my girlfriend used to be a man. My son, who was on the spectrum, didn’t understand why I would feel that way, though he didn’t really understand romantic relationships. My wife half-jokingly said if a dude was hot, trans or not trans didn’t matter, she’d date him.
I guess old habits die hard; we all have something to learn or some bad habits to break. I’m glad I watched the episodes and had the opportunity to re-examine my prejudice and learn to be more empathetic. Note: not sympathetic. The difference between empathy and sympathy is empathy is not only knowing how others feel, but also compassion and understanding. Empathy is for others, while sympathy is about oneself.
I might still have lingering bias, but I will fight against prejudice and discrimination toward transgender people and fight for their equal rights. I’ll fight for the day to come that the world doesn’t need to see her sad face.