How Do You Define Man?
In my second novel, “Unbroken,” main
character Lincoln, struggling to reconcile his own undeniable boyness with his
gayness recalls: “I was wrong. Always wrong. ‘No’ was the word I heard
most often. No, boys don’t do that. No, boys don’t do this. I was left
believing boys only belched, farted, and fought.”
Growing up, it seemed to me that being a
boy required membership in some sort of exclusive club, which permitted only
certain sanctioned behaviors, the esoteric equivalent, I imagined, of knowing
to sip one’s tea with one’s pinky extended, or how to dribble a basketball. I
found myself on the outside of a centuries old quarter sawn oak door which had a
neat brass plate affixed to it, a silent, but loud warning: No sissies allowed.
Are you a boy or a girl? I was plagued
by this question others asked constantly, ruthlessly, throughout my youth. It
was asked to torment and remind me you don’t fit; we don’t want you. Later,
when I was older and I was tired—so very tired—of the question, my response
which was met with stunned silence, ridicule of the poser of the question, or fury,
was: “Why are you asking? Do you want to fuck me?”
Looking back, I realize my response flung
back in a hostile face is at the root of the debate—why exactly would it matter
to you, a stranger, whether I am a man, or a woman, or non-binary? Ask me my
pronouns and move the fuck on.
Now to the question: How do you define a
man?
I messaged back: "I don’t get to decide.
Every man (or woman) gets to decide that for themselves. There are some who
would say I’m not a man because I’m gay."
“Riddle me this Batman,” I continued. “You’ve heard of castration mines (also known as the “Bouncing Betty”). A savage dual explosive device employed by the Germans during World War II, stepping on one would propel it three feet into the air; a second device would then detonate, blowing off legs but also quite often blowing a soldier’s boy bits to smithereens. Guys who suffered that fate—are they still men?”
His response was a cryptic and short, “um,
no.” Prompting me to respond, “So if your boy bits got blown to smithereens,
you’d identify as a woman?”
No response and it’s been a few days. Now
I’m rather pleased with my question because there are only two answers—both of
which undercut the idea that genitals are what defines a man. If a man loses
his genitals and is still considered a man, that means men aren’t solely
identified by their genitals. But if not having the expected male genitals, as
Michael seems to imply, makes him a woman then there is no basis for calling
transwomen, men.
Which brings us back to the original
question: how do you define a man?
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