"Chamber women on the floor, chamber men on the risers."
Sometimes I sing with the women, sometimes I sing with the men. When they're separate pieces, I sing both. Caught in awkward hesitation, I catch the eye of a fiercely lovely fellow Alto 2, one of the epic femmes that love the shit out of their lower registers. She gives me a sympathetic smirk, and I shrug, moving not a muscle as the "men" regroup around me and the "women" shuffle off. It ended up being one of the songs that I sing with the women. So I wormed myself back out again.
Huffing something about the stupidity of the gender binary, I slip back into my "woman" spot in front of the extremely bi girl that frequently plays with my hair for the entirety of rehearsal and flirts like mad. She gives a little laugh and - I dunno, squeezes my arm or something. Someone validated me. We sang awhile, I joined the men. The "men." I didn't know where to stand, again, and a half-closeted trans girl in the baritone section pulled me up next to her with a smile. Oh, how freeing it is to sing next to other queer folk.
It's weird feeling so heard - that everyone seems to understand that the binary is unnecessary and doesn't work - and yet nothing changes. Everyone understands why the status quo exists, so the status quo remains. And I'm pacified by the fact that I'm not being traumatized by the vicious transphobia and heteronormativity suffocating me with every turn, so I don't fight it either. It's better not to fight. I don't like to fight. Especially in choir. Especially in my own family.
A few days ago I had to leave rehearsal for upwards of twenty minutes to compose myself after becoming simply overloaded by the dysphoria. There are all these unnecessary gender-related thoughts: your voice is so high, you sound like all the other girls. Do you think you can sneak over for just this part? Will anyone notice if you take a break to sing with the tenors? Your tone isn't blending, you make such a pathetic little guy! Insert random internalized sexist feeling! No, Adriaan, common, focus on the music. Shit, that means I have to choose a part. Will anyone notice if I stop singing entirely? I could just mouth the words. God, this is stupid. Breathe, Adriaan. Just sing. Ah - Nope. Nope nope nope. It'll be okay, no one will notice, I'll only be gone for a moment...
I just didn't want to think about it. I wanted to tell my brain to shut up and sing, but - well, sometimes that works, and sometimes it just doesn't. When it doesn't, I flee the binary choir for the binary restroom, where at least a door locks and I can be alone. The irony doesn't escape me for a minute. Even conventional safe spaces are overcomplicated.
The hope is live in me that choir could be the only necessary safe space. I long to someday make it one.
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