REPENT.
The messages greeted me as soon as I left the ancient, rattling commuter train from central Chicago, chalked onto the sidewalk all along Church Street on the walk to my hotel. They seemed oddly out of place in Evanston, a leafy college suburb with an extremely chill vibe; a strange contrast to the low-key cool of the bars and restaurants, and turquoise blue calm of the inconceivably vast Lake Michigan.
At first I misread the final word of every message as “repeat”, as in (for example): “Praise the Lord – repeat”. I thought someone was simply very enthusiastic about sharing their values. “Repent”, however, feels a lot more aggressive and also quite pessimistic, assuming the reader’s guilt and their urgent need to make amends.
I am here for the 2nd International Trans Studies Conference, held at Evanston’s Northwestern University, in the original homelands of the Council of Three Fires (the Ojibwe, Potawatomi, and Odawa peoples). In the opening plenary of the conference, the political scientist Paisley Currah argued that we are living in a crisis moment for trans politics: not because we are necessarily facing more discrimination than ever before, but because more people are paying attention to our existence. Many of these people hope we might repent our trans identities, our gender deviance, our very existence. And yet, here we are, gathering from around the world to discuss trans knowledge and trans ideas, and to imagine trans futures.
Over the course of the conference I am attending numerous talks and meetings across a dizzying array of topics and themes, taking in both theory and evidence from researchers based in the humanities, social studies, and physical sciences. I plan to blog regularly, sharing information I have learned as well as critical reflections on the event. There are literally hundreds of talks taking place over up to 11 simultaneous sessions at any one time, so please do not expect an exhaustive account! Still, I hope these posts will be of interest to people unable to attend the conference, as well as fellow attendees.
The opening plenary: ‘The State of the Post-Discipline’
The conference began on the evening of Wednesday 4th September, with a two-hour opening plenary titled ‘State of the Post-Discipline’, reflecting the official theme of the event. Across four talks, this session aimed to set the tone for the conference and introduce a series of key ideas for consideration in the coming days.
I felt the plenary very much reflected the ambition, the importance, and the limitations of this conference. Each of the speakers emphasised the importance of a materialist approach to trans studies, in which our research can speak helpfully to the reality of people’s lives. This necessarily involves grounding our work in practical examples of trans realities, and understanding our histories in order to better tackle the challenges of the present and future. The speakers were perfectly blunt about the enormous harms that trans people have faced across time and in many places, while maintaining an optimism for how we might productively learn together.
At the same time, it felt strange that together, these four opening commentaries reflected a very limited geographic perspective, with three of the speakers being based in the United States. Similarly, it was disappointing to see just one trans woman on the stage, the Mexican biologist and philosopher Siobhan Guerrero Mc Manus.
This unfortunately reflected the wider dynamics at play within trans studies. As conference organiser TJ Billard noted in their opening comments, trans studies has historically been dominated by US and (to a lesser extent) European voices. Moreover, all four of the field’s major journals are effectively based in the United States. The 2nd “International” Trans Studies Conference is inevitably dominated by US scholars and perspectives, even as there are an impressive range of people present from the rest of the world. I’ve also frequently observed the minoritisation of trans women with trans-oriented conferences and research projects, even given the enormous influence of key figures such as Susan Stryker (who will be speaking in a later plenary) and Sandy Stone.
Nevertheless, the conference couldn’t have found a better opening speaker than queer Indigenous historian and literary scholar Kai Pyle. I have long admired Kai’s written work, so it was exciting to finally see them speak.
North American conferences frequently open with a land acknowledgement, in which organisers and/or invited elders of local Indigenous communities recognise the role of Indigenous peoples as the original stewards of lands taken by settler colonists. However, land acknowledgements rarely offer deeper understanding, let alone any form of reparation for the enormous damage wrought by colonialism.
Pyle themself rightly noted that a single talk could not possible begin to account for the violences and erasures of the past and present, and they observed also relative absence of Indigenous academics from the conference space. They further comments that “although I’m speaking on a panel titled ‘The state of the post-discipline’, I’m barely concerned with the discipline at all”: instead Pyle is concerned with a future where indigenous trans people can live.
Nevetheless, it was powerful to begin the event with a talk specifically about the oppression and resistance of Indigenous peoples in the Great Lake region. Pyle also argued that this history is necessary for properly understanding the history of trans studies itself.
Pyle explained that the lands of the Illinois or Inoka people were first invaded by the French in the 17th Century. Subsequent European accounts and travelogues widely reported the presence of gender roles in Inoka society that did not align with European norms: examples included the leadership of women in agriculture, and genders that could not be easily categorised as female or male. The subsequent projection of European understandings and desires onto Indigenous North American peoples informed early pathological accounts of gender ‘deviance’ as physical and mental sickness, which in turn would inform inform diagnostic categories from the 19th century to the present day. Indigenous people themselves, meanwhile, were subject to immense colonial violence, including coercive conversion to Christianity, removal from their homelands through forced marches such as the Trail of Death, and cultural destruction through the Indian residential school system.
Turning to the early 20th century, Pyle told the story of Ralph Kerwineo, an individual of Potawatomi and Black heritage who successfully ‘passed’ as a man and married two women while living in his ancestral homelands. While Kerwineo might today be understood as a trans man, there is no evidence of any engagement with the traditional gender roles of his people. Pyle noted that this stands as evidence of both enormous alienation but also resistance: Kerwineo successfully lived a gender ‘deviant’ life in the Chicago are a hundred years of attempted elimination of his people.
Finally, Pyle reflected on the emergence of the two spirit movement in the early 1990s, in parallel with the emergence of the contemporary US trans movement, as well as trans studies.
The second talk was by Paisley Currah, who argued for theorising “trans rights without a theory of gender”. He posited that trans studies has been increasingly “stepping aside from just doing theory” over the last decade, as seen for example in the creation of the journal Bulletin of Applied Transgender Studies. In this context we can potentially separate questions of social justice from questions of what sex and gender might actually be.
Currah illustrated this argument with the example of campaigns around sex classification policies in New York City. Attempts to introduce a system of self-declaration in the 2000s and early 2010s were complicated the fact that some city bureaucrats supported the proposed changes, and others opposed them. This was summarised by a legal argument made by the city government: “the existence of difference approaches to similar problems does not render an agency’s rule irrational”.
In this context, Currah argued that sex/gender is in practice a “decision informed by law”, and by the needs and interests of lawmakers. For example, in many jurisdictions it is fairly easy to change a sex/gender marker on a driving license. This is because in practice driving licenses are used by the state primarily for tracking and surveillance, and it is therefore in the state’s interest for the license to reflect what people look like and how they live. By contrast, it has historically often been more difficult to change sex/gender for the purpose of marriage: that is because this would entail a disruption of the heteronormative biological logic for property transfer across generations.
Currah concluded by arguing that when we argue for changes to these policies, the existence and diversity of trans people “is enough”. We exist no matter what your theoretical position on sex or gender, and “a world without us cannot be willed into being”. The focus of policy advocacy should therefore be on what we need to flourish, rather than abstract theorisation.
I found Currah’s arguments extremely helpful and well-framed. However, I was surprised to his insights framed as novel, as the approaches he described feel well-established in the UK. Unlike in the US, materialist approaches have been central to trans studies since the 1980s, in the work of key scholars such as Dave King, Stephen Whittle, and Zowie Davy. Meanwhile, the focus on trans people’s practical needs is embodied in the work of organisations such as Trans Safety Network and Trans Kids Deserve Better, who very intentionally centre questions of harm rather than any theorisation around gender. My own PhD thesis (published in 2016!) and later book Understanding Trans Health deliberately set aside the question of sex/gender to focus on how trans healthcare services operate and are experiences in practice. The feminist philosopher Katharine Jenkins has done important work on how what is important about gender varies according to context, and the legal scholar Chris Dietz has extensively considered questions of governmentality in terms of how and why differing aspects of trans people’s lives are managed by different agencies of on the behalf of healthcare systems and the state.
I make this point not to try and undermine Currah or big up UK trans academia specifically. Rather, I want to note how this kind of awareness of what is already being done in different parts of the world highlights why a truly international approach to trans studies is so vital.
The next talk was by Siobhan Guerrero Mc Manus. Unfortunately I – and many other attendees – missed much of her talk due to an apparent failure by the translation company hired to support the conference. This was an enormous pity given what I did catch felt extremely important, and built on the critiques of Currah that were bubbling away in my brain during his talk.
Guerro Mc Manus emphasised the importance of organising across borders, with the example of taking successful trans liberation strategies from Mexico, adapting these in a Colombian context, and then again in Peru. Conversely, she described the example of how work on reforming the criminal code in Colombia informed trans activism in Mexico. In this kind of organising and exchange of ideas, reflections from the Global South might be combined with insights from the North, without simply reproducing Global North theory in a way that is not necessarily applicable to countries such as Mexico.
I wish I had heard more of these presentation! I feel the International Trans Conference’s investment in both live translators and translation through transcription software is an incredibly important move, and should set the tone for future events in the field (or “post-discipline”, if you prefer). At the same time, it is important to get this right lest non-Anglophone perspectives are further marginalised through technical error. While I just missed large parts of this one talk, attendees who were not fluent in English may have missed much more from the other speakers. I definitely felt for the organisers, speakers, and fellow attendees, and hope these problems will spur future work to further improve our communication across languages and borders.
The plenary closed with a short address from TJ Billard. Billard explained how the choice of conference theme was informed by the “first” International Trans Studies Conference, which took place in Arizona in 2016, “riding the high of the transgender tipping point” just months before the election of Donald Trump. An enormous amount has changed in the last eight years, and the time is ripe for a re-appraisal.
Billard’s use of the term “post-discipline” draws on the work of John David Brewer. Brewer describes post-discipline thinking as knowledge about a phenomena that is detached from disciplinary allegiances, instead emphasising theoretical and methodological pluralism, political investments, and ethical values.
The emphasis is therefore less on academic siloing, and more on real problems facing contemporary society. This couldn’t be more appropriate for trans studies, especially in the context of the insights shared by the other speakers.
Some final thoughts
The first “day” of the conference was really just an evening: the opening plenary, plus a reception where the in-person attendees got to spend time meeting and catching up with one another (some of the most important academic work!) I am finishing this monster post at the end of the second day of the conference, a true marathon which ran from 8:30am (when registration opened) to 9pm (when a reception and 10th anniversary celebration hosted by the journal Transgender Studies Quarterly theoretically wrapped up). It’s difficult to capture the sheer scope of this event: indeed, this series of posts can only possibly touch upon the vast amount of knowledge and information we are discussing at the conference.
For all that I (and others) have shared several critiques, I am hugely grateful this event is happening, and feel very privileged to attend in person. I couldn’t be happier to be a gender deviant, and hope to repeat the value-based work of resistance over and over.
