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A review by lattelibrarian
The Gender Friend: A 102 Guide to Gender Identity by Oakley Phoenix
3.0
There were a lot of things I appreciated about this book. I'm always a fan of glossaries, as they provide something to refer to an to enhance understanding per the author's definitions. I'm also appreciative of how open Oakley is and the way that they have made this book, through interview-style writing, quite literally so conversational. It doesn't feel overly pedantic, and I think I would have found this book incredibly helpful ten years ago when I first started learning about this ideology.
However...
There's a lot of inconsistencies that I think are standard in this community that are never addressed. Perhaps I shouldn't be overly critical, as the title obviously states that this is a 102 guide--maybe these critiques are best reserved for a 301 guide. Alas, here we go.
Let's begin with the definition of AFAB (Assigned Female at Birth): "Designates a person assigned female from a person assigned male or intersex." This is interesting that this is a separate category from intersex...as this term comes from the intersex community. When doctors view a newborn as having indeterminate genitalia, doctors will "assign" a sex, usually through some type of surgical intervention. Sometimes the parents know, sometimes they do not. Often times, the intersex children do not learn of this until much later in life. Yes, doctors do observe genitalia and announce, "It's a girl!" (the conflation of gender + sex notwithstanding), but that is an observation, not a medical assignation.
This is juxtaposed by the definition of Female: "An individual who identifies as female." And we come to circular logic here--if one is assigned female at birth, and female is anyone who identifies as female...should AFAB then mean "Assigned as someone who identifies as female at birth?" Whoof, that's not as nice of an acronym. But, perhaps we can see the problem. How can one be both assigned as female and identify as female? It seems that perhaps we are better off maintaining the distinction between sex and gender as it was commonplace to do not even a decade ago rather than conflating the two. I can identify as a redhead, but that doesn't mean that my dyed hair is proof that I am one. You dig?
We are also privy to the definition of Top Surgery: "Removal of excess, unwanted breast tissue." I'd like to call it what it really is, which is a double mastectomy. Double mastectomies are typically reserved for when breast tissue is cancerous or when someone has a high risk of breast cancer (which can affect anyone). So...to me it's kind of strange to just get rid of a literal, physical part of you because you don't want it. But I'm also pretty against any sort of elective surgery, and this is a wholly different conversation. My main critique is that top surgery = double mastectomy and we should refer to it for what it is.
Next is the way we are offered the definition of Gender Expression throughout the course of this book. In the glossary, we read that it is "how an individual communicates their gender." Oakley later states, in a controlled interview with an enthusiastic and curious reader (a rather cute and friendly idea, I do have to admit!), "You also picked up on how externalized my gender is. My gender and my outfits go hand in hand, which isn't a universal experience by any means." I'm glad that Oakley added the modifier at the end there, because that is something often forced upon women in particular (hello, make-up, high heels, and flimsy clothing). It seems then, that Oakley's gender is largely inherent upon their outfit of the day, that it's "external". For me, and many other women, our gender isn't necessarily external. We wear highly feminine things because we're taught to, but that doesn't mean butch women are any less women. But this also doesn't mean that I'm any less of a woman when nobody is watching. It doesn't mean I'm less of a woman when I'm in my comfy cozies all alone.
If Oakley's gender seems to depend on their personal style, then what gender are they when nobody is looking at them? I'm sure Oakley of course would still identify as transmasculine non-binary, but honestly...who cares when nobody is there to see them? Oakley later goes on to explain that their gender expression also depends on time and place, which again just seems like dressing up for any given day's itinerary. It just seems to me that the way in which they define and explore the term gender expression they get closer and closer to realizing that gender expression is just your personality and your personal style.
In an "interview" with the reader, Oakley discusses their privilege at being able to access and pay for hormone therapy and getting a double mastectomy. Oakley states "...having top surgery unlocked a number of big and little things that I simply couldn't do or couldn't feel safe doing before." While I am glad that Oakley feels more comfortable in their body and feel that they have more freedom, I would really love to see Oakley push their understanding further. Why didn't Oakley feel safe? Who made Oakley feel threatened? If one's body does not grant freedom to that person, is it really their body or is it society? Who or what is preventing Oakley from feeling safe?
Also, and as another aside, I would love to also feel safe in my body. I can only assume--perhaps correctly, perhaps incorrectly--that this safety must come from the sexualization of female bodies. Shirts and dresses accentuate breasts, which are sexualized thanks to pornography and Victoria's Secret, and advertising. Bathing suits are made to be more and more revealing. Bras that are not padded risk one's nipples showing through one's shirt. I don't want to feel this way. I mean, I have triple D's. I hate being sexualized. I hate that I can't wear button downs without a camisole because the buttons will pop out. I hate that the shirts and dresses I buy all have to go up a size to compensate for my breast size, resulting in me looking boxy and baggy. But I'm not about to get a double mastectomy over it. I'm not going to let the medical industry profit from my malaise. Instead, I'm grateful for my body the way it is. And maybe I'm privileged for that. But it also took a lot of work to get to this place of acceptance and occasional tolerance.
You don't have to like your body, you don't have to like that others make your world unsafe. But why is it your body that you have to change?
Perhaps because Oakley and others want to experience gender euphoria. Amid my critiques, I am pleasantly surprised about their discussion of euphoria over dysphoria. I completely agree with their point that so many people look at the negative aspects. We all have to create joy where we can find it. Unfortunately, I am a hater, and think that joy must be critiqued. But I am still glad about their choice to include this topic and not include the other.
Gender Euphoria is defined as "Positive, personal reactions to one's gender being recognized and respected." Later, Oakley also uses the word "affirmed". However, when discussing where this feeling comes from, Oakley has created an itemized list including not boxing one's self in, seeking inspiration, being kind to one's self, standing up for one's self, and finding/utilizing affirming spaces to name a few. The original definition given to us in the beginning of the book appears to be externally given. It is through other people in which the recipient feels euphoria. Others perceive your gender correctly, and you are happy. But the ways in which Oakley finds this feeling seems to come instead through authenticity, which I find is a much more realistic and understandable way of navigating one's self.
It is just so incredibly interesting to me to see these definitions defined as the crux of this book's language and to see it so differently. Originally these words are defined as observational to the person, but they are later expanded upon as authentic means of expression. Yet it seems that gender is only worth authenticity, expression, and style if there is someone to see them.
Again, I did enjoy the conversational aspects of this book. I also enjoy that Oakley Phoenix is so open to inviting these conversations. They truly seem like such a happy and enthusiastic person, and I honestly wish them nothing but the best. It's just that a lot of the book doesn't add up to me as someone who has spent lots of time thinking critically about the gender movement, feminism, and similar ideologies. I think a little more time fleshing out these ideas to make them consistent would have made this a better read for me, but again I must remind myself that this is a 102 guide and not a capstone project.
However...
There's a lot of inconsistencies that I think are standard in this community that are never addressed. Perhaps I shouldn't be overly critical, as the title obviously states that this is a 102 guide--maybe these critiques are best reserved for a 301 guide. Alas, here we go.
Let's begin with the definition of AFAB (Assigned Female at Birth): "Designates a person assigned female from a person assigned male or intersex." This is interesting that this is a separate category from intersex...as this term comes from the intersex community. When doctors view a newborn as having indeterminate genitalia, doctors will "assign" a sex, usually through some type of surgical intervention. Sometimes the parents know, sometimes they do not. Often times, the intersex children do not learn of this until much later in life. Yes, doctors do observe genitalia and announce, "It's a girl!" (the conflation of gender + sex notwithstanding), but that is an observation, not a medical assignation.
This is juxtaposed by the definition of Female: "An individual who identifies as female." And we come to circular logic here--if one is assigned female at birth, and female is anyone who identifies as female...should AFAB then mean "Assigned as someone who identifies as female at birth?" Whoof, that's not as nice of an acronym. But, perhaps we can see the problem. How can one be both assigned as female and identify as female? It seems that perhaps we are better off maintaining the distinction between sex and gender as it was commonplace to do not even a decade ago rather than conflating the two. I can identify as a redhead, but that doesn't mean that my dyed hair is proof that I am one. You dig?
We are also privy to the definition of Top Surgery: "Removal of excess, unwanted breast tissue." I'd like to call it what it really is, which is a double mastectomy. Double mastectomies are typically reserved for when breast tissue is cancerous or when someone has a high risk of breast cancer (which can affect anyone). So...to me it's kind of strange to just get rid of a literal, physical part of you because you don't want it. But I'm also pretty against any sort of elective surgery, and this is a wholly different conversation. My main critique is that top surgery = double mastectomy and we should refer to it for what it is.
Next is the way we are offered the definition of Gender Expression throughout the course of this book. In the glossary, we read that it is "how an individual communicates their gender." Oakley later states, in a controlled interview with an enthusiastic and curious reader (a rather cute and friendly idea, I do have to admit!), "You also picked up on how externalized my gender is. My gender and my outfits go hand in hand, which isn't a universal experience by any means." I'm glad that Oakley added the modifier at the end there, because that is something often forced upon women in particular (hello, make-up, high heels, and flimsy clothing). It seems then, that Oakley's gender is largely inherent upon their outfit of the day, that it's "external". For me, and many other women, our gender isn't necessarily external. We wear highly feminine things because we're taught to, but that doesn't mean butch women are any less women. But this also doesn't mean that I'm any less of a woman when nobody is watching. It doesn't mean I'm less of a woman when I'm in my comfy cozies all alone.
If Oakley's gender seems to depend on their personal style, then what gender are they when nobody is looking at them? I'm sure Oakley of course would still identify as transmasculine non-binary, but honestly...who cares when nobody is there to see them? Oakley later goes on to explain that their gender expression also depends on time and place, which again just seems like dressing up for any given day's itinerary. It just seems to me that the way in which they define and explore the term gender expression they get closer and closer to realizing that gender expression is just your personality and your personal style.
In an "interview" with the reader, Oakley discusses their privilege at being able to access and pay for hormone therapy and getting a double mastectomy. Oakley states "...having top surgery unlocked a number of big and little things that I simply couldn't do or couldn't feel safe doing before." While I am glad that Oakley feels more comfortable in their body and feel that they have more freedom, I would really love to see Oakley push their understanding further. Why didn't Oakley feel safe? Who made Oakley feel threatened? If one's body does not grant freedom to that person, is it really their body or is it society? Who or what is preventing Oakley from feeling safe?
Also, and as another aside, I would love to also feel safe in my body. I can only assume--perhaps correctly, perhaps incorrectly--that this safety must come from the sexualization of female bodies. Shirts and dresses accentuate breasts, which are sexualized thanks to pornography and Victoria's Secret, and advertising. Bathing suits are made to be more and more revealing. Bras that are not padded risk one's nipples showing through one's shirt. I don't want to feel this way. I mean, I have triple D's. I hate being sexualized. I hate that I can't wear button downs without a camisole because the buttons will pop out. I hate that the shirts and dresses I buy all have to go up a size to compensate for my breast size, resulting in me looking boxy and baggy. But I'm not about to get a double mastectomy over it. I'm not going to let the medical industry profit from my malaise. Instead, I'm grateful for my body the way it is. And maybe I'm privileged for that. But it also took a lot of work to get to this place of acceptance and occasional tolerance.
You don't have to like your body, you don't have to like that others make your world unsafe. But why is it your body that you have to change?
Perhaps because Oakley and others want to experience gender euphoria. Amid my critiques, I am pleasantly surprised about their discussion of euphoria over dysphoria. I completely agree with their point that so many people look at the negative aspects. We all have to create joy where we can find it. Unfortunately, I am a hater, and think that joy must be critiqued. But I am still glad about their choice to include this topic and not include the other.
Gender Euphoria is defined as "Positive, personal reactions to one's gender being recognized and respected." Later, Oakley also uses the word "affirmed". However, when discussing where this feeling comes from, Oakley has created an itemized list including not boxing one's self in, seeking inspiration, being kind to one's self, standing up for one's self, and finding/utilizing affirming spaces to name a few. The original definition given to us in the beginning of the book appears to be externally given. It is through other people in which the recipient feels euphoria. Others perceive your gender correctly, and you are happy. But the ways in which Oakley finds this feeling seems to come instead through authenticity, which I find is a much more realistic and understandable way of navigating one's self.
It is just so incredibly interesting to me to see these definitions defined as the crux of this book's language and to see it so differently. Originally these words are defined as observational to the person, but they are later expanded upon as authentic means of expression. Yet it seems that gender is only worth authenticity, expression, and style if there is someone to see them.
Again, I did enjoy the conversational aspects of this book. I also enjoy that Oakley Phoenix is so open to inviting these conversations. They truly seem like such a happy and enthusiastic person, and I honestly wish them nothing but the best. It's just that a lot of the book doesn't add up to me as someone who has spent lots of time thinking critically about the gender movement, feminism, and similar ideologies. I think a little more time fleshing out these ideas to make them consistent would have made this a better read for me, but again I must remind myself that this is a 102 guide and not a capstone project.