I found the inclusion of Kim quite upsetting. I hesitated over posting because, as PP says, they come across as reasonable and empathetic, and were writing about a shared experience with which I sympathise. But, on reflection, I do feel my be-kind socialisation is stifling an entirely fair and reasonable reaction. As Kim put themselves out there to be included in that article as a “woman”, and Kim is anonymous, my thoughts on why it upset me.
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The Guardian publishes accounts by six “women”, of which one is trans. That’s hugely out of proportion to the overall population, giving disproportionate time and space to transwomen’s experiences. It also indicates that Kim had a far, far higher chance of being published than a woman, and Kim’s words took the place of a woman’s words - even as the article implicitly professes to address the issue of men talking over women.
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Did Saoirse intend to include transwomen in her original comment? The Guardian’s unquestioning assumption that she did (or, alternatively, their total disregard of her perspective in favour of their own political agenda) does seem rather ironic, given that the entire point of the clip was men’s total disregard for women’s experiences as actually distinct from their own.
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That we don’t know which “women” Saoirse did mean - or, worse, that there’s no longer a way for her to have referred exclusively to females without inviting backlash - is, in itself, a devastating example of the impact of the loss of our words. We can no longer refer to ourselves clearly as a distinct group (at least, without linguistic contortions that invite accusations of bigotry). This is appalling.
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But what rankles most is the way in which the inclusion of a male voice changes and dilutes the very nature of the issue. The Guardian is complicit in much the same denial, or reframing, of women’s reality, by men that Saoirse was calling out - a total lack of understanding of, and disregard form what it means to navigate the world in a female body. Kim’s concerns may well overlap with ours, as they’ve chosen to adapt some of the cultural signifiers associated with being female. But Kim will almost certainly be taller and stronger than the average woman, with all the relative security that brings - security that we can only dream of. Kim isn’t a target because of their unchangeable, inescapable physical reality. And it’s that, more than anything else, that is the source of our fear. By not distinguishing between us and Kim, the Guardian is actively misrepresenting and obscuring the very experience it claims to be highlighting. It’s participating in the dry sand dismissal of the female experience that it claims to be redressing.
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Lastly, I found Kim’s comments on their previous privilege as a man, and subsequent ashamed recognition of the female experience, very interesting. On one level, this could be seen as welcome insight and empathy. But from another perspective, the phrasing, again, reflects the ignorance and arrogance of the male guests on the show. If Kim had said, “I know I can never fully experience what a woman does, due to my innate physical advantage,” I would have been wholeheartedly supportive, if not of their inclusion in the article, then at least of their perspective. But Kim didn’t say this. Instead, Kim implied that their experience is exactly the same as ours - that simply by changing their outward appearance, they become the same as us, and live our exact reality. How does that not diminish us, and in fact deny our own, so very, very different, reality in favour (again) of a male perspective?
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And, lastly, there’s the possibility that Kim’s failure to acknowledge their own sex (when others in their position are able to do quite readily), and Kim’s choice, instead, to speak as if a fully embodied woman, is in the service of Kim’s own needs. It benefits Kim psychologically to say this. And it hurts us.
TLDR
Cultural appropriation in any context - shocking, don’t do it.
Appropriation of sexed experience in a context in which the whole point is 1) sexed difference, 2) limited public understanding of the impact of this, and 3) a professed desire to redress this balance - you go, “girl”.
NB. I’d never have typed this 5 years ago. I still find it difficult to in some respects. But, ultimately, it really is as simple as: I’d like to support and sympathise with Kim, but as long as doing so diminishes my own safety, place in society and sense of self, I can’t afford to do so.
Guardian, please just allow women their own experiences and voices. Allow Kim theirs, too, right alongside us! They matter, too. But not as one of us, at our expense, with no recognition of the unbearable irony of doing this in this particular context. By doing this, you make me feel like a second-class citizen in a way I never thought possible growing up. Even many of your articles claiming to promote my voice humiliate, distress and frustrate me. You’ve made me realise my place in society is not what I thought, and the consequent need to fight for more recognition. And in so doing, you’ve lost someone who actually would much prefer to feel able to be an “ally” to many members of this marginalised group - by marginalising her, too.