Modern journalism tells us that we live in a post-truth world, a world where facts are less influential to arguments and the lines between subjectivity and objectivity become increasingly blurred. "Post-truth" was the Oxford Word of the Year in 2016, and it’s unsurprisingly making its reemergence with this year’s upcoming election. A post-truth world leads to a greater distrust in government and scientific authority and a stronger reliance on emotion in shaping one’s beliefs.
I’m not saying this is an entirely negative thing; it rightfully holds authorities accountable and underscores the fundamentally malleable nature of human knowledge. However, in a world of ever-growing misinformation, fake news, fear-mongering and hate speech, this notion of the "real truth," then, becomes a more complex battle of science, rhetoric, media and resonance.
In physics, resonance is a phenomenon that occurs when a system is able to oscillate with greater amplitude at a particular frequency, known as the system's natural frequency. When an object experiences an external force equal to that natural frequency, it exhibits resonance, where it vibrates at that high amplitude. Resonance is the phenomenon that underlies everything from musical instruments to playground swings, and in its emotional sense, resonance forms the basis for human connection, catharsis and chaos.
Now, this is not an article about physics or the state of American politics, but about gender. As many might know, questioning gender is one of the most confusing processes you can ever go through, regardless of whether you’re cis or trans. It makes you re-examine every memory, behavior, thought and interaction through equal lenses of curiosity and frustration. It compels you to question what even is gender at all — something defined as both a feeling and a social construct, a biological (in)congruence and an entrenched system. It forces you to be the subject and the researcher in this exhausting experiment around a question that only you ultimately know the answer to.
On the one hand, I want to believe that I’m in the 93% of people for whom transition improves overall wellbeing. But on the other hand, perhaps I was a victim of so-called “Rapid-Onset Gender Dysphoria” (ROGD), which, although now thoroughly debunked, was a dominating argument for the so-called "rise" in trans people recorded. I want to believe that gender is not and never has been binary and the overwhelming historical evidence documenting the stories of trans/GNC communities around the world. But the majority of history books, bathrooms, sporting events and prominent internet personalities promote the contrary. I want to believe the politicians who promise to enforce anti-discriminatory protections, but I inevitably end up hearing from those who wish to mock LGBTQ+ people instead.
I want to trust these institutions so badly. I want to take the words they say as the "real truth." But, like overlapping waves, it feels like all these rushes of contradictory information effectively cancel each other out, leaving only this feeling of emptiness and fear (there’s a name for this phenomenon in physics, called "destructive interference," which seems apt).
But then I get this funny feeling when I wear button-downs. When I cut my hair. When I use a different name or pronouns. When I’ve used it for long enough I sometimes forget, just for a second, about who I was before because living as this person feels good, feels right, feels natural. Heck, when I open jars or doors, or when the barista at Bella Union calls me "buddy" when I order coffee. That feeling multiplies ten-fold when I see other trans people sharing and even celebrating similar experiences (even if it is on Reddit at 2am). And in this raging white noise of contention, I suddenly feel amplified, intensified, excited for a future where I originally saw…static. And, despite the questionable validity of this acoustic metaphor, I guess resonance was all I ever really needed.
But you liked princess movies when you were a kid. But you never liked sports. But you never talked about this before with anyone — surely if you were really trans, you would’ve known years ago? Wouldn’t it have been obvious?
I wish I could view transness out of politicization, but as trans existence itself becomes increasingly politicized, we have to be evermore mindful that political narratives not only shape how people see us, but how we view ourselves, and consequently how we treat ourselves. Even though the existence of trans people and everything that goes with it is not really a debate, the detriment of a post-truth society means that no matter how much evidence we accrue about the effectiveness of gender-affirming healthcare or trans well-being, we will be compromised by other people’s fear of change and what they cannot understand.
I’ve often lost sight of the fact that in the absence of any concrete answers to the question of my metaphysical "true gender," I’ve gained something much more valuable: community. People who resonate with my experience at such a fundamental level, and believe in it, even when I often look at myself in disbelief. And that’s something I hope I never lose nor take for granted.
I feel like my collegiate life has been measured in these cycles of self-beration, self-liberation, self-deliberation and back again, a recognizable oscillation that has served as the drumbeat for my own semblance of self-transformation as a young adult (emphasis on the trans). I’ve spent so long trying to rationalize my reasons for shifting place in a system that is, at its core, irrational, one whose rigidity and unnecessary reinforcement has been the cause of suffering, violence and death for too many people around the world. I don’t want to say that this is my "most authentic self" or that "this will solve all my problems," but it is something that makes those problems feel like they’re worth solving.
Perhaps, this brief article can spark a feeling of resonance in someone else. Perhaps, years from now, I’ll find another experience that is more resonant to me. For now, I’ll continue to ride this wave and see where it takes me.
Happy Coming Out Day everyone :)
Nik Narain is a Trinity senior. His pieces typically run on alternating Saturdays.
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