Our little university has initiated a series of training sessions for faculty and staff on Safe Spaces. The whole gender thing has become a rabid hobby among influential segments of the academic community, and is endemic among the students. I even see it running through segments where you’d think people would know better, like STEM graduate students and faculty. Somewhat attenuated in intensity and sheer lunacy, but still.

I remember my mother and her Jewish lady cohort used to play a game called Mah Jongg that involved plastic tiles with little Chinese figures on them. Like many other games, it involved making certain combinations (melds) of tiles from ones held and drawn. Once a year, they would all get cards in the mail with this year’s melds. Yep, the rules changed yearly, and all the Jewish ladies would immediately follow the new ones. And of course discuss at length this year’s melds. “Oh, last year’s were so much better.” I made the mistake once of overhearing a conversation like that and asking my mom, “So, if last year’s were better, why not use those?” She gave me the same puzzled look a dog would give after you asking him to solve the Airy equation in two dimensions. “But… those are last year’s. This years are different.”

And so it is with vocabulary and names. It is vitally important that you keep up with not only this year’s terms, but as was explained to us, the shifting names and labels and terms adopted by each individual you come in contact with. The only difference to Mah Jongg is that it’s not clear who sends out the cards.

Let’s first start with a marvelous graphic explanation of the basic terms:

Before delving into the details of the lunacy, note that this is Version 4. This year’s melds. Are they better or worse than last year’s melds? That is a question not to be asked. Several related questions I asked were apparently uncomfortably close to things also that shouldn’t be asked, but I did keep in mind that I’d like to keep my job.

Now shifting vocabulary isn’t anything new when applied to euphemism or ethnonym; for example “colored people” became opprobrium not used in polite society, but then later returned as “people of color.” What’s novel is both the rapidity of change and the application to individuals and their shifting whims. WebDom gave me a perfect example: “When I left the shop to go home and shower, there was a girl named Charlotte working front of house. When I got back about 40 minutes later- FORTY MINUTES- I now had a nonbinary trans named Firespear. Who was getting pissed off at anyone who called her Charlotte, or calling her ‘her.'” See, “Charlotte” is her deadname, and using the name she’s had for 25 years until <40 minutes ago is akin to genocide. So deadnames are something that’s integral to this training. We were instructed to never ask anyone if their name is their birth name or their “chosen” name. And in perfect 1984 manner, referring to something someone did in the past before they adopted the new name or gender, one MUST only use the current name and gender, even if it makes no sense.

This brought up my first uncomfortable question. “There’s a local person who was a man, war hero in Special Forces, then became a woman. Then after some years, decided that was a major mistake and went back to being a man. Do we use this person’s current gender and name or the one this person was using at the time being discussed?”

“Whichever they prefer.”

“What if you don’t know this person? How would I know what’s preferred?”

“You need to ask.”

“How do I do that? It’s someone I don’t know.”

The look I got from the instructor told me to shut up while I still had a job.

 

My second uncomfortable question: “Who decides what the proper current terminology is?”

“The community.”

“How do I ask the community what words I need to use? Do I have to stop and take a poll any time I want to speak about someone?”

Same look. I shut up. Well, I would have sucked at mah jongg anyway.

 

Some other highlights of the actual training session:

Let’s start with the principal word in the title, queer. When I was a younger lad, this was a fighting word,  a first-order epithet. Now… here’s the definition on the nine page glossary of terms:

Queer: An umbrella term that describes people who aren’t exclusively heterosexual. The term “queer” (the Q in LBGTQIA+) acknowledges that sexuality is a spectrum as opposed to a collection of independent and mutually exclusive categories. Use of the word opens up options beyond lesbian, gay, and bisexual to people who don’t fit neatly into these categories or prefer a category that isn’t dependent on sex and gender. While this term once had negative and derogatory connotations, queer has resurfaced as a common and socially acceptable way for LGBTQIA+ people to refer to themselves and their community. Despite its growing use, some people still have negative associations with the word and don’t want to be referred to in this way. Queer, like all terms describing sexuality, should be used sensitively and respectfully.

We were told, however, that this has shifted again. “Queer” apparently is derogatory when used to describe an individual, but is a preferred term when referring to “the community.” No, I can’t figure that out, either.

Another interesting term I hadn’t encountered before:

Demisexual: On the asexual spectrum, this sexual orientation describes people who experience sexual attraction only under specific circumstances, such as after building a romantic or emotional relationship with a person.

So apparently I’m on the asexual spectrum because I don’t fuck casually. Huh.

Anyway, no use in going through the 100+ gender terms. I can’t figure most of them out even after reading the definitions.

I still have a job, but we’ll see what happens after the next session on ethnicities and how that relates to structural racism and microaggression.