Gender: An Act?

Growing up, my room was white. When we redid the room, I chose the color of a soft bubblegum pink, not quite a coral, but not so god-awful one couldn’t stand to be in there. In my room, I had a plethora of stuffed animals, Barbie dolls, ballerina figurines (even though I was not a dancer in any shape or form), a dress up box in my closet, all the typical things one would think of when they heard the words “girl’s room.” I loved playing with my dolls in the pink dollhouse, coming up with kid-friendly soap operas, and making little tea parties as I clopped around in those little plastic princess heels. My brother was born and he received the GI Joes, the trains, the cars, the Bakugan toys, a blue room, and the little plastic toy soldiers too.

Never once did I question that there were other terms out there than just “boy” or “girl.” I had no idea that sexuality was even a thing. Growing up, I brushed my long hair, sang into my hairbrush, listened to music in the shower, had a birthday slumber party dedicated to the color pink, and did all the things that “girls” were supposed to do.

Never once did it occur to me that everything I was doing could be perceived as an act, that all of it had been placed in front of me to consciously think about which gender I was performing. I never questioned if I was doing as girls were supposed to do. I was instructed to wear shorts underneath skirts and dresses, to keep my knees together while sitting down, and just thought it made sense. I never questioned why. I figured it was just modesty.

Now that I’m in college, my “act” has not changed. To hear that gender is a social construct, that everything is acted just confuses me. Being a “girl” came naturally. Yes, l was given every opportunity there was to act the part of a girl, to dream of being a Disney princess and tie the huge bow on the backs of my dresses (I later told my uncle that those were for babies), but never did it occur to me that I might be performing something I didn’t feel like I was. With my background, I’d never heard the words “hermaphrodite” or “intersex” until college and never knew about different sexualities from my own until high school, when I made that scary transition from Catholic school to public school.

It frustrates me to think that my life could have been a lie, to get me to “become” a girl. It saddens me that some don’t feel like they’re who they’re meant to be. Personally, I don’t believe gender is an act at all. I believe with that the way we’re raised might or might not determine who we are or want to be. I believe that putting on earrings every morning to match the rest of my attire does not determine that I am a girl. If a fellow “boy” peer of mine has eyeliner "on fleek," or a nail polish color I like, I don’t believe that to be “wrong” in any way. I’d probably ask him for tutorials! When it comes down to it, the way we view ourselves may be mistaken in the eyes of someone else, but just because others act, speak, or “perform” their gender differently than another doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be treated with the same and utmost respect that all humans deserve.

Gender as an act? Please. Instead of thinking about what gender someone’s “performing,” maybe we should all try to perform the role of a respectful human being.