Transpeople are less honest
Hi, Everybody!
I was dismayed a couple of days ago to come across a recently completed study that shows that on the whole transpeople are less honest than cispeople. I didn’t want to believe it, of course, but this was a study conducted by a reputable psychologist at a reputable university. I myself believe that there’s never any advantage in ignoring reality. It’s no good shutting your eyes to evidence simply because you don’t like what that evidence is telling you.
At any rate, you can read the article and judge for yourselves. Here’s a link. . .
Well, actually, there’s not any link because there’s not any such article or study. As some of you may have guessed, I was making it all up. Why? Because as usual I’m being a cute, little hoor?
No, it’s because the last few days have been a bit of a downer for me. One of our members had a really bad experience that was depressing for a lot of us. You can see her thread here if you haven’t already seen it:
http://www.crossdressers.com/forums/...got-laughed-at
Then some of us got word of the Moore/Burchill affair, which was hardly cheerful news:
http://www.crossdressers.com/forums/...-British-media
Finally, I was on the receiving end of an insult from one of my contacts (who is obviously no longer a contact)—an insult that was so breath-taking in its flippancy, impudence and artistry that, looking at it objectively, I couldn’t help but admire it. If you’ve never had first-hand experience of chutzpah, I can assure you it’s quite devastating.
In the midst of all this a thought occurred to me: lots of cispeople don’t like us, but when have they ever presented any sort of evidence that would justify their dislike? Are there any studies out there that show that we’re less honest than cispeople; that generally speaking we’re less moral; that we make worse parents, friends or neighbors; that we’re less intelligent; that we’re less competent at our jobs; that we’re less kind, generous, sensitive or caring? In a word, is there any evidence whatsoever that we’re worse people than they?
None that I know of, and none that any trans-hater has ever thrown in my face. No, the only crime that we can be convicted of is being different, upsetting their neat little notions of the male-female divide, overturning their carefully-packaged little world-view.
I think there are some things we should always bear in mind. First of all, bigotry is a poison. Depending on circumstances it can poison the lives of its targets—but it always, unfailingly poisons the life of its possessor.
Bigots are very unhappy people. Consider the racist who hates black people: everywhere he looks he sees something that makes him unhappy. Black people aren’t going to go away. He may make them unhappy from time to time, but he can never escape his own unhappiness. If he’d abandon his bigotry, he’d be much happier, but he can’t do that.
When I receive an anti-trans insult, being the sort of person I am, I brood over it for a while. Eventually, however, I do forget about it. But it remains with the bigot. The bigot is always stewing in his own juices. As odd as it may sound, in recent times, whenever I see an act of bigotry, I find myself thinking, “You poor man/woman! You’re really unhappy, aren’t you?”
Let’s allow two ancient thinkers to come to our rescue:
Heraclitus: “A man’s character is his fate.”
Marcus Aurelius: “To refrain from imitation is the best revenge.”
Pity the bigot. It is his fate to always and forever be a bigot, i.e. a poisoned and unhappy individual. Do you find yourself sometimes wanting revenge against a bigot? Forget it. He’s already getting it for you. Or if you insist on getting it yourself, then don’t be a bigot like him.
I was thinking I should perhaps make this my mantra:
It’s beneath me to get upset at something that’s beneath me.
Bigotry is certainly beneath me.
I was also thinking this: often we’re unhappy because we don’t keep score. We seem to remember the nastiness shown us, but do we always remember the acts of kindness that people show us? Yes, this man was nasty, that woman was unkind—but how many other people did I meet today who were perfectly decent to me?
We seem to remember the nastiness. I think one reason may be that we regard kindness as our due. We take it for granted, so that when we experience it, we don’t really note it. To nastiness, which we regard as an outrage, as if it were not as much a part of the natural order of things as kindness, we react strongly.
There’s also the fact that nastiness is often a more marked event than kindness. I went into town this morning and consider what I experienced: I was served meat at the butcher’s counter; my purchases were checked out at the cash register; I returned a book and a DVD at the library; I was served a cup of coffee in a café; I had a bit of business to take care of with my landlord, and he called me “Annabelle”, something that’s difficult for him to do.
All of these are small things, but they add up to something much larger. Given that in every instance I was shown kindness and friendliness, I had a very nice morning and I came out of it a happy girl. We don’t keep score—so we often let one sharp insult outweigh any number of smaller kindnesses.
I’m the type who keeps score, though. Ever since I came out in early November, I’ve been keeping a diary, recording the acts of kindness and the acts of unkindness I’ve experienced. Kindness has from the start left Unkindness trailing miles behind. It’s never been anything but a one-horse race.
So why do I let a few bigots get me down? No real reason—apart from the fact that I often forget how to think properly.
Best wishes, Annabelle
