She's short and ginger and strong in a way I think only femmes can be. Her clothes flatter her body as it is - she doesn't seem to wear things that coax it into a box. I admire that. I envy that. I envy her beauty and confidence and freedom. Purple lipstick if she feels like it, epic patterned tights, high-waisted skirts, jean-on-jean-on-jean. Simply nothing to hide. Bubbly, approachable, starts every rehearsal in the middle of a clump of tenors or basses. Her laugh is light and infectious; her sarcasm is the kind of honest that forces me to smirk. We know each other as members of the same section, but I have this stupid instinct not to get too comfortable or friendly around any (especially cis) women I like.
The other day she mentioned to me off-hand that she's jealous that I get to sing part-time as both Alto and Tenor. She's always wanted to sing with the tenors. She would drop women's music for theirs in a heartbeat if she could. (Just like me.) And? I say. Why don't you? (I'd asked the same question of a different alto that said she wished she could wear a tux like the men at Christmastime.) She sighs and half-smiles and says that she asked our director, but she wouldn't let her. Can you hit the notes? Yeah. How low is your range? I've got a comfortable C or D. So, plenty low then. Mhmm. That's so awesome.
There was this awkward silence in which she just kind of smirked at me and I stared at her and I couldn't figure out if she was just really jealous, or if she felt bad for making me feel like she was co-opting my trans privileges or ... I don't know. I know that I was angry. That I felt her pain. Maybe more than she did. I wanted to yell that I understood. That I wish she could juggle the absurd mess of being in both unnecessarily-gendered groups with me. She's not the only one that would do it if given the chance. I know at least two or three other altos that would be way overexcited to develop their lower registers. They sound so great down there, when we all follow the basses down in a quiet hum during the "low warmups" that for some reason are just for them. So I guess I feel that with them. But I am so indignant that girls apparently have to be... well, not, that they have to be trans men, to get permission to inch toward loving their voices in their genderless entirety.
I love seeing my fellow altos laugh with glee when we belt out F3s like nobody's business and fill out chords as beautifully as any bass section could. I love seeing women feel powerful. It hurts me to stand outside of the gendered muck everyone seems to be bogged down by and see their power constrained by music often written to encourage "women's" parts to feel higher, or more feminine, or less meaty. Or anything but exactly what they are: voices. Voices that sing notes. That love to push their limits. On both ends of the spectrum.
I've heard many trans men say they feel like traitors, like they're leaving their people behind for privileges that would never have been afforded to them. It's not like this constitutes a concrete example - it's not like I've benefited at all from male privilege. But I'm extended a unique opportunity to sing where I'm comfortable singing just for being true to myself. And the gorgeous femme that stared back at me for those excruciating few seconds, in her mascara and epic crimpy hair and circle skirt, is tantamount to a role model to me for how to be true to myself. The feeling that my process of gender liberation would open any opportunities to me that "the other girls" don't have access to makes me....
......angry. I'm angry. I want gender liberation. I want the system to go fuck itself.
At the beginning of our next next rehearsal, she was laughing and talking with a group of men, again, and I smiled and stared at her hoping she wouldn't notice and feel weirded out. If she can do it, why can't I? If she can feel so at home in the middle of the basses - half a foot shorter than me and explicitly feminine - why do I feel such a compulsive need to scrutinize the precision with which I've landed exactly on the invisible line dividing the altos from the tenors?
Maybe one day I will fully learn from her that lesson.
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