By Harper B Keenan, September - December 2006

This article is one of the first writen documents about FTM's and Masculine Female bodied people in South Africa and will still in time to come serve as a very informative and important reference and research work. Harper B Keenan is a FTM student from the Eugene Lang College: The New School for Liberal Arts School for International Training in the United States, who did 3 months internship in South Africa at the  School for International Training in Durban. He did his final paper on: Transgender Men and Female Masculinity in South Africa.

The complete Article can be downloaded here.  

Abstract

In the last several years, a small but outspoken transgender rights movement has emerged in South Africa. This is not to say that gender variance has only begun to exist in this country, but that an organized movement of transgender men and women demanding legal rights and social understanding has only begun to emerge. This paper studies the history of gender variance in South Africa, and tells the life histories of three people with varying types of transmasculine experience. Drawing on these histories as well as a variety of other resources, I have then described the concerns and challenges of transgender men as well as masculine and male-identified women, and examined if/how lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) focused NGOs are responding to the unique needs of this group.

Introduction

“Male,” “female,” “man,” and “woman,” are only words. One cannot deny the reality that there is diversity in the chemical and physical make-up of human bodies. However, the notion of definite and prescribed social behaviors and attitudes based on the form and function of one’s body is built on infinite interactions, ideas, and events throughout the history of humankind.  The decisions we make today about what to wear, how to speak to one another, or countless other ways that we “perform gender,” are influenced by this history more than it is possible for us to know. Concepts of gender are deeply ingrained in the cultures in which they exist, and differ even on an individual basis. Thus, whenever one investigates gender identity, the deep history behind these words must be acknowledged.

South Africa has a long history of patrilineal rule, and of masculine dominance. In examining the history of same-sexuality and gender variance in this country, I wondered how masculine women and transgender men fit into this history. Same-sex partnerships and the existence of people who crossed lines of gender (or who even stood on the line itself) are an undeniable part of South African history. Knowing this, I wondered how these individuals were treated in their communities – were they elevated to a higher level of respect because men and masculinity are seen as powerful? Shunned and concealed from public view because their identity was somehow false?  Or, was their worth as humans examined holistically, their gender only a part of the equation?

In addition to trying to uncover the history of gender variance in South Africa, I wanted to find out what life is like today for South African masculine- and male-identified women and transgender men. What challenges do they face? How has the larger ‘queer’ community been affected since the introduction of the term “transgender,” and the recent development of a transgender rights movement?   What are organizations that claim to address the needs of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) population doing specifically to serve the needs of transgender people and those who do not conform to prescribed gender norms?  Are transgender people looking to these organizations for support?

Through this paper, I seek to begin to reveal the history of gender variance, female masculinity, and transgender male identity in South Africa, and give voice to the life histories, challenges and concerns of individuals who identify this way. Additionally, I seek to determine if and where these individuals find support, and whether LGBT non-governmental organizations (NGOs) are giving serious consideration to the unique needs of transgender and gender non-conforming people.

Methodology

My original intention in writing this paper was to investigate the lives of transgender men in South Africa. However, I quickly realized that the word “transgender” is one that is not used in all South African communities. Many South Africans, especially those without access to the Internet, identify as masculine women, or as men, but refer to themselves as lesbians. Many describe feeling some level of discomfort in their female bodies and prefer to be recognized as men, but may not be aware of hormone treatment or Gender Reassignment surgery. Some identify as being neither male nor female, but believe that they exist somewhere in between. Some identify simply as “butch.” My interest is in people that were assigned a female gender at birth and now identify as masculine or as men. Limiting my research only to those who self-identify using the word “transgender” would have meant that I would not have been able to include South Africans from communities that have not been exposed to that language, but whose gender identities bear some kind of transmasculine  experience. 

In researching this topic, I sought to combine a wide variety of textual sources with in-depth field research. In doing so, I utilized newspaper and magazine articles, pamphlets, brochures, historical texts, queer and feminist theory, recorded interviews, personal narratives, and argumentative papers.  I combined this with ten formal interviews, three of which were life histories of masculine- or male-identified South Africans. The remaining seven interviews were with employees or members of organizations and groups that serve some part of the queer/LGBT population.

My investigation into this topic began long before I arrived in South Africa. Before my arrival, I contacted Liesl Theron, who is the president of GenderDynamix (GDX), South Africa’s only NGO specifically for transgender people.  She gave me the contact information for several trans-identified men, and advised me to become a member of the GDX website. It was through the website that I was able to contact Zane, whose life history is recorded in Part II. Liesl also connected me with organizations that GDX has worked with. These included OUT, an organization for LGBT Well-Being in Pretoria, and Budding Roses, a support group for transgender people in Gauteng. With her help, I was able to complete interviews with representatives from both of these groups.

I attempted to contact all eight of the Johannesburg- and Durban-based NGOs within the Joint Working Group, a coalition of nine LGBT-focused NGOs in South Africa.  I was able to schedule interviews with representatives from four of these organizations: The Gay and Lesbian Archives, OUT, The Forum for the Empowerment of Women, and GenderDynamix. 

The people whose life histories I conducted in Part II were largely found through happenstance. Originally, I had hoped to record a larger number of life histories, but most of the transmen that are members of GDX were busy or out of town during the Independent Study Period. I met Steve at OUT while I was interviewing another representative from that organization, and connected with Thembisa through program activities with the School for International Training.

In setting out to investigate this topic, I did so very carefully. The nature of my research had the potential to be quite controversial on a public level, and deeply personal to the individuals whose perspectives and stories I sought to tell. I felt it important to be meticulous and mindful about the language and terminology that I used, as well as the terms used by participants. I was especially conscious to allow all interviewees to self-identify their sexual orientation and gender identity in the language of their choosing, rather than making any assumptions. I tried to be sure to ask participants to define specific terms regarding gender and sexual identity, rather than assuming that they had the same meanings as they might in America. In an effort to make participants feel comfortable, eight of the ten interviews that I conducted were in the participant’s home or in their office. The remaining two interviews were conducted in neutral, public spaces.

Additionally, a large part of my research was participant observation. On several occasions throughout my time in South Africa, I spent time with transgender men and women, as well as masculine-identified women on an informal basis. I spent a total of a week and a half in close contact with Thembe, participating in many of his daily activities. I also visited queer bars and what are commonly known to be ‘queer friendly’ spaces and neighborhoods, in order to get a sense of queer/LGBT culture in the locations where I conducted my research.

It seems important to mention that a key part of what enabled me to investigate this topic in the way that I did is my own identity as a queer-identified, transgender man. Though I plan to, I have not yet had surgery or gone through any kind of hormone therapy. Because of this, I am often recognized as “queer,” especially by other members of the queer/LGBT community. I think that as a result of this, both the masculine-identified women as well as the transgender men I spoke with felt a level comfort with me that they may not have with a non-transgender or straight person. It is impossible to know for sure, but I think that had I gone through a physical transition before conducting this research, some of the people that I interviewed would not have felt the same camaraderie with me that many of them spoke of. I think this may be especially true of the masculine- and male-identified women that I interviewed. Several of them spoke of feeling discomfort with males, and though I am male-identified and shared this with all participants, they still saw me as being “like them” because in appearance, I could easily be perceived as a butch/masculine lesbian.

Limitations of Study

Most of this research was conducted over a period of four weeks, on a budget of R4,200. With more time and money to spend traveling across South Africa, I would have been able to provide a more in-depth examination of the lives of transgender men and masculine women, as well as the South African NGOs that serve the LGBT community. Ideally, I would have liked to have spent more time in the offices of these NGOs. Because I did not, I was unable to fully measure the effectiveness of programming directed at transgender and gender non-conforming people. I also would have liked to spend more time in social environments with transmasculine identified South Africans, as a participant observer.

Additionally, language proved to be a barrier in some situations. Though all of the participants were fluent in English, it was not always their first language, and some of the nuance and detail of the statements they made may have been lost as a result. In addition to this, the language that I am familiar with in terms of describing queer/LGBT identity was did not always have the same meanings to the participants I interviewed. For example, some participants had never heard the word “transgender,” and others had heard the word but did not define it in the same way as I did.

Terms and Definitions

(Adapted from The National Gay and Lesbian Task Force’s pamphlet, “Who Are Transgender People?”) 

Note:  Like any other group, the transgender and queer/LGBT population of South Africa uses words that may not be commonly used outside that group, and it seems important to provide some definition of those words in this paper. However, it is my opinion that attempting to define any of the following terms is inherently problematic, as the words that human beings choose to describe themselves are incredibly personal. In addition to this, although I have tried to include words that appear to be indigenous to Southern Africa, my attempts to define them cannot be totally successful, as I am an outsider to this culture. Therefore, I cannot provide a definition that might be as nuanced as someone who uses these terms to identify themself.

• Biological sex
  This refers to the chromosomal make-up of an organism. Generally speaking, people with XX chromosomes are determined to be “biologically female” at birth, and those with XY chromosomes are determined to be “biologically male.” XX/XY are not the only chromosomal combinations that exist, and about 1% of human beings do not have either XX or XY chromosomes. Simply put, sex is biological, but social views and experiences of sex are cultural.
   
• Gender identity
  The gender, or lack thereof, that a person claims for oneself. This may remain the same throughout one’s life, or change and evolve with time, perhaps even on a daily basis. This may or may not correspond with that sex they were assigned at birth.
   
• Gender expression
  The perceived or self-identified projection of masculinity or femininity. A person’s gender expression is complex, including countless characteristics of appearance, speech, movement, and other factors not solely limited to biological sex.
   
• Sexual Orientation
  The sexual identity that a person practices or claims for oneself. This has to do with who one desires to partner with, and doesn’t necessarily have to do with their gender, beyond the fact that if a person who identifies as male wants to partner with other male-identified people, it may be considered a “homosexual” interaction.
   
• Transgender
  Transgender people are individuals whose gender expression and/or gender identity differs from conventional expectations based on the physical sex they were born into. The word transgender is an umbrella term often used to describe a wide range of identities and experiences, including: FTMs, MTFs, cross-dressers, drag queens, gender queers, and many others.
   
• Transmasculine
  People who were assigned a female sex at birth, but who believe that that is an incorrect or incomplete description of their present gender identity.
   
• Butch
  Refers to a masculine perceived or actual gender identity/expression. For the purposes of this paper, this generally refers to female-bodied, lesbian-identified people.
   
• Femme
  Refers to a feminine perceived or actual gender identity/expression. For the purposes of this paper, this generally refers to female-bodied, lesbian-identified people.
   
• Lesbian Man
  A term that, from my research, appears to be unique to the African continent. Difficult to define, it refers to an individual who was assigned a female gender at birth, and now identifies both as a lesbian and as a man. Its definition ranges across cultures and individuals.
   
• Intersex
  A term for a person who is born with genitalia and/or secondary sexual characteristics of indeterminate sex, or which combine features of both sexes. (The terms hermaphrodite and pseudohermaphrodite, which have been used in the past, are now considered inaccurate and offensive and no longer used to refer to an intersexual person.) Sometimes the phrase "ambiguous genitalia" is used.
   
• Transvestite/Crossdresser
  Not to be confused with transgender or transsexual, this refers to someone who derives sexual or emotional pleasure from dressing in clothes perceived as those of the opposite sex, usually on a limited basis. This person may or may not identify as transgender. This is also a “dated” term and can be perceived as offensive in many communities.
   
• Heteronormative
  Anything which is based on the belief that romantic and sexual partnerships must be limited to one male and one female, with the male as the dominant partner and the female as the submissive partner.
   
• Passing
  As defined by transgender people and groups, this refers to being recognized as the gender with which one identifies. An example of this would be if a transgender man went to a clothing store and an employee called him ‘sir’ and directed him toward the men’s clothing aisle.
   
• Stealth
  This refers to a transgender person who may not be “out” as transgender to all of their friends and co-workers.  Instead, it is presumed that they are not transgender. For example, a transgender woman who was assigned a male gender at birth, but has now transitioned to female may exist in an environment where her friends do not know that she has had surgery and that she was ever perceived as male.
   
• Gender Reassignment Surgery (GRS)
  This refers to surgery that may help a transgender/genderqueer person feel more comfortable in their body and help them to present the gender that they identify with rather than the one they were assigned at birth.
   
• Transphobia
  Similar to the term “homophobia,” this refers to prejudice, discrimination, anger, or hatred directed toward people whose gender identity or expression may differentiate from the socially prescribed norm.
   
• Binding
  A common practice of pre-operative (planning to have surgery) or non-operative (those who do not want or cannot have surgery) FTM and transmasculine people, this refers to the flattening of the chest in order to create a more masculine appearance. This can be done with bandages, surgical chest binders made of nylon, or a variety of other methods.
   
• Packing
  This is a common practice among FTM and transmasculine people, and involves stuffing the underwear with something to create the look and feeling of having a penis. “Packers” can be anything from a soft silicone replica of a biological penis (very difficult to find in South Africa) to a rolled up sock.
   
• Queer
  Difficult to define, this is a term that has been reappropriated by many from its use as homophobic slang. It is an umbrella term that refers to anyone whose sexuality or gender subverts heteronormativity.
   
• Top surgery
  Slang term for chest reconstruction surgery, in which the patient’s breasts are removed and a male chest is constructed.
   
• Testosterone
  The “male” hormone that non-FTM men produce naturally, and which many FTM and transmasculine people administer to themselves by way of injection, application of a gel, or a patch. It cannot be administered via the use of a pill, because the liver will not process it. When a female-bodied person takes testosterone, their muscle mass increases, facial and body hair increases, their voice deepens, their body fat redistributes and their clitoris enlarges. These changes take over a year of regular hormone therapy to take full effect. Other effects can include liver damage, heart problems, high cholesterol, ovarian cancer (if no hysterectomy is performed), polycystic appearing ovaries, and male pattern baldness. As with any hormone treatment, taking testosterone should be carefully monitored by a trained and educated physician. Perhaps the most problematic thing about hormone treatment is that there is a severe lack of research, especially when applied to the transgender community. When a person is taking testosterone, they may say that they are “on T.”
   
• He/his/him
  Male pronouns.
   
• She/her
  Female pronouns.
   
• S/he & Hir
  Gender-neutral pronouns. For the purposes of this paper, this refers to people whose gender identity is either not known, or does not identify as either male or female.

Rainbow Flags in the Rainbow Nation

A history of same-sexuality and gender variance in South Africa

In order to understand the current status of the transgender rights movement, and the livelihood and challenges faced by transgender men and masculine-identified women in South Africa, it is important to provide extensive context of the successive development of gay identity, gay subculture, and the gay rights movement in this country. It is my belief that these concepts are inextricably linked to the transgender movement as they are both rooted in the idea that a static gender binary does not exist, and that heteronormativity is, in fact, not the norm.  That said, it can also be argued that in the African context, the modern gay rights movement has been driven largely by Northern ideas, and therefore has problematized identities that may have been accepted and normalized in traditional African society and culture.  A similar problem has emerged with the transgender movement.  This tension is one that South Africa has struggled with since the first European settlers set foot on its shores. Thus, one cannot fully comprehend the current challenges faced by masculine women and transgender men without duly examining the history of queer and gay identity in South Africa.

Post-apartheid South Africa has been called “The Rainbow Nation,” a title that connotes a sort of amicable inclusivity where people can coexist and even develop relationships across lines of race, class, religion, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, and all of the many other identity categories listed in the Freedom Charter. National legislation like this has set a standard for the behavior of South African citizens and government organizations that has been hailed as some of the most progressive in the world. However, it seems that in many ways the social culture and climate of South Africa is far behind, or at least far different, from the legislature. 

This “Rainbow Nation” is one that is very much still in the process of reconciliation. The cold hands of colonization and apartheid have left their prints on the South African nation, creating not only a system of atrocious oppression of people based on their color, but also created a portrait of white, masculine, physically dominant heterosexual male that was established as ultimately powerful. Anything that did not fit into all of those categories was established as inherently “less than.”

According to Marc Epprecht, a researcher and professor at McGill University, the problem of widespread homophobia as well as the notion of homosexuality as “un-African” in Southern African countries can be traced to their histories of colonization. In fact, he says, it is homophobia rather than homosexuality itself that is a colonial import.   Many Western researchers have denied the existence of homosexual activity in the African continent, and Epprecht argues that “such assertions of the infrequency or non-existence of homosexuality in African society laid the ground for explaining homosexual behaviors in non-traditional settings primarily by reference to external influences.”  This statement is the foundation of Epprecht’s argument, which is that a major part of developing imperialist rule in the African continent was the “otherization of African sexuality.”  In other words, one of the easiest ways to establish Europeans as inherently morally capable of dominance was to categorically demonize Africans as sexual deviants. In the aftermath of such imperialism, Epprecht argues, Africans must work to combat this stereotype, a fight that sometimes manifests itself in the form of homophobia.

The fact that many Western researchers claim to be unable to find any trace of homosexuality or gender variance in Southern Africa is probably because they were asking the wrong questions, or using the wrong language. Especially before the modern queer liberation movement (which many argue did not occur until after 1994), many black South Africans did not claim “gay” or “lesbian” identities. Anthony Manion and Ruth Morgan from the South African Gay and Lesbian Archives describe the challenges they faced in their first oral history project:

“The extent to which this area of enquiry is secret made it particularly difficult to document the lives of same-sexuality identified older women and men in diverse black communities. The standard response was ‘we don’t have lesbians over the age of 40’. We later realized we shouldn’t have been asking for ‘lesbians’ as the older women in these communities do not self-identify as ‘lesbians.’”

Epprecht also writes of the importance of cultural contextualization when trying to conduct research on sexual and gender variance in Southern Africa:

“We need, in other words, to constantly contextualize and historicize as precisely as we can what words like ‘sex,’ ‘man,’ ‘woman,’ and even ‘is’ or ‘has’ meant to the people who used them. Subtle power dynamics can be revealed at work in the assumptions about the meanings of words and silences around sexuality or gender.”

Despite these language barriers, of which there are many in South Africa, researchers have managed to document gender variance as well as homosexual behavior and relationships throughout South African history. There is evidence of what Western culture might today call transgender identities, known as murumkadzi (“man-woman”) and mukadzirume (“woman-man”) among the Shona. Murumkadzi took the role of a wife in a relationship with presumably gender-normative men, and mukadzirume took the role of a man in relationships with women. These people were “not the subject of close investigation,” according to Epprecht. 

Among the Zulu, there has been a long history of same-sexual interactions. In order to establish the potency of men so that they could be recognized as adult warriors, they would occasionally be given a boy as a substitute for a woman to be “used” to prove their sexual maturity.  Even the great Zulu leader, Shaka, has been suggested to be a homosexual. 

There is a long tradition of female sangomas (traditional healers) who engage in same-sex relationships, and it is has been said that gender inversion is a powerful trait among them.  There is a chapter devoted to this in the book, Tommy Boys, Lesbian Men, and Ancestral Wives: Female same-sex practices in Africa, edited by Ruth Morgan and Saskia Wieringa.  It describes the tradition in which sangomas take “ancestral wives” or unyankwabe:

“Unyankwabe is a person you are given by the ancestors; if you are a sangoma, you have to have someone to look after you. It may be your husband, your sister, or your uncle; anyone that the ancestors will choose for you to trust and believe in.”

The ancestral wife is chosen by the dominant male ancestor, who “speaks to”  the sangoma. The sangoma must then pay lobola, or bride-price, to the wife’s family. Though “the issue of a sexual relationship within an ancestral marriage is historically taboo,”  it seems to create a space for same-sex relationships to occur, albeit often in secret. Many lesbian- and same-sex identified sangomas came forward in Morgan and Wieringa’s research, who say that the ancestors have chosen these same-sex relationships for them:

“It’s like Lucia was loved by my ancestor. I could say she was chosen by my  ancestor. It means that this thing of mine, I can see it combines the wishes of my  ancestor. I can put it like that. ”

Gender inversion is also part of sangoma identity and culture, Morgan explained to me in an interview:

“A lot of the women have primary male ancestors that are responsible for their  healing powers. There’s no really good English translation for how it works,  because in the realm that they work, there’s a merging of their identities of their  ancestors and their own identities in some ways ... During that time, the ancestors  presence and needs take over. The women will then be a man, if she’s channeling  her male ancestor, and … her body will accommodate the needs of the male  ancestor. So if the male ancestor wants to have sex with a woman, she will then  say that it’s not me that wants to have sex with a woman, it’s my male ancestor.”

Epprecht writes that, for the most part, black African populations did not consider non-reproductive (anything that was not heterosexual intercourse) sex to actually be “sex” at all, and it seems that they were relatively accepting of it so long as it was kept quiet.  The fact that homosexual and non-intercourse sex acts were not seen as sex has led to the interpretation of some Westerners as “deep, perhaps essential homophobia in African culture.”  Epprecht quickly counters this by saying that these ideas “represent incomprehension, to be sure, but possibly also the echo of an ancient de facto tolerance for sexual eccentricities.”  On the other side of things, Europeans were very quick to condemn homosexual behavior as the result of a deep-rooted problem in a person’s character. It was only with the Dutch and British colonization of South Africa that strict laws with regard to “queer” sexuality were documented and ritualistically enforced. The original colonists brought with them anti-sodomy laws, broken over and over again by sailors traveling through Kaapstadt (Cape Town). The Dutch, the first colonists of South Africa, came from a history of Calvinist political domination, which prohibited any kind of sensuous pleasure, but “sex that deviated from the prescribed norm was viewed as especially reprehensible.”  In fact, the worst crime that one could commit was homosexual sex.  This belief was transported to South Africa through the original Dutch colonists, who imprisoned those found guilty of sodomy on Robben Island. In fact, these “sodomites” made up most of the Island’s first prisoners.

Anti-sodomy laws in the Cape were only the beginning of the settler’s jurisdiction over sexuality and gender expression. In 1914, an Immigration Act was passed that, Epprecht notes, included a “clause that explicitly prohibited persons convicted of sodomy or unnatural offenses from settling in the colony. But so self-evident was the wisdom of this exclusion that no public debate was deemed necessary or took place.”  By the 1930s, homophobia and panic surrounding gay identity was spreading around the world, streaming out of Europe and America. Gayness was linked to communism, which seems to be in line with Epprecht’s larger argument that homosexuality posed an obstacle to the development and permanent success of capitalism and imperialism. Raids on male homosexual bars and parties became more frequent as the Cold War emerged in the 1950s. The South African Defence Force began a campaign in 1960 to “cure” homosexuality with drug and electro-shock aversion “therapy” and mandatory counseling.

Epprecht writes,

“As in the United States, the military establishment regarded homosexuality as indicative of psychological weakness or unfitness for the coming battle. It also suggested vulnerability to communist blandishments or political opposition to apartheid. Proof of the link was embodied in Cecil Williams, a prominent gay member of the South African Communist Party, who was imprisoned and then deported from South Africa in the 1960s.” 

The situation for queer South Africans worsened throughout the 1960s, as the government embarked on a sort of “gay witch hunt” across the nation. In 1966, 350 mostly white men were arrested at a party in Forest Town, near Johannesburg, after being discovered dancing, kissing, and cuddling. Efforts were made to try to uncover and infiltrate homosexual “networks” throughout the country. A government proposal was introduced in 1968 that would have “empowered police to harass private social events and to imprison errant men and women for up to three years for offences.” The extremity of the proposal was weakened a bit by gay rights lobbyists, but the Immorality Act of 1969, which is most commonly known for banning interracial relationships and intercourse, also targeted same-sexuality. In fact, this forced gay communities into “tighter and more geographically isolated spaces.” The Act was also the first that explicitly acknowledged governmental hostility to female masculinity and lesbians by banning dildos.

It is important to note that by this point, outright homophobia was not only coming from the white population of South Africa. In fact, by the mid-1970s, it had become a popular belief among black activists that homosexual relationships were a symptom of apartheid. At a conference in 1976, black African churches “renewed their commitment to target the ‘atrocious vices’ caused by the compound and hostel system.” 

Simon Nkoli, an openly gay black man and member of the United Democratic Front who was imprisoned for treason in 1986 is often cited as one of the main reasons why the ANC eventually adopted gay rights as a part of their platform. His courage, as well as the anti-apartheid activism of queer organizations internationally, gained the respect of the party for queer people. In 1981, future president Thabo Mbeki was quoted as saying,

“The ANC is very firmly committed to removing all forms of discrimination and oppression in a liberated South Africa. That commitment must surely extend to the protection of gay rights.”

This commitment was tested, however, during the 1991 trial of Winnie Mandela for assault and kidnapping of four young boys. Her defence strategy was that she was trying to protect the boys from the sexual predation of an older white male. This trial was high-profile and her defence resulted in outrage from gay activists worldwide. Despite a letter of support from the ANC for the Gay Pride March that year, activists were only “somewhat appeased.” 

After Winnie Mandela’s divorce from Nelson Mandela, the party moved away from her brand of African nationalism, and made the significant and pivotal decision to include sexual orientation as one of the identities to be provided protection under the Freedom Charter, which still stands today.
 Even with the progressive nature of the Freedom Charter, however, most of South Africa is not in support of gay rights. Hate-motivated crimes against LGBT South Africans are still common throughout the country. Recently, Zulu former ANC deputy president Jacob Zuma was quoted in a Heritage Day speech, saying that:

“Same-sex marriage is a disgrace to the nation and to God. When I was growing up,  an ungqingili [gay man] would not have stood in front of me. I would knock him  out.”

The leader of the Zulus, King Goodwill Zwelithini, has openly expressed his hatred of homosexuals, saying:

“The Zulu nation would not be this big, with millions of people, if there was the problem of gay people that we have today, This new behaviour is quickly becoming a threat in our nation because it encourages people not to have proper families that have children. We have a huge responsibility as a nation to teach our children to distance themselves from homosexuality.”

At first glance, the King could be written off simply as ignorant. However, what is the underlying root of this problem? If he believes that this is a “new behaviour,” one would assume that he means it arrived in South Africa with colonization.  Epprecht has argued that in many ways, the modern “gay identity” was indeed a colonial import, but the behavior has been proven to have existed long before whites arrived. This begs the question of whether the root of the King’s hatred is against the behavior, which many kings before him did not discourage and some even promoted, or against the development of a gay subculture and the regulation of the government over sexuality and gender, something that emerged only after the first Dutch ships arrived at the Cape. Although the legislature existing today is much more “progressive,” the fact remains that there was no nationwide legal jurisdiction over the body or sexuality until colonization.

The Transgender Movement in South Africa

Amidst this controversy in South Africa, modern queer theory has changed the dynamic of the queer liberation movement. In the last twenty or so years of third wave feminism in the North, texts have emerged from the United States and Europe that argue that gender is a social construct. Judith Butler, a leading scholar in Gender Studies, has written,

“Gender is the mechanism by which notions of masculine and feminine are  produced and naturalized, but gender might very well be the apparatus by which  such terms are deconstructed and denaturalized.”

Butler and others argue that gender is a social construct and as such and that it is not as simple as being assigned a “male” or “female” sex. Instead, gender is built through experience and, as a result, it may not be the same as one’s assigned sex. 

In the last 2-5 years, a small but outspoken transgender movement has gained visibility in South Africa. This is not to say that transgender people have only begun to exist in South Africa during this period, but that it is only now that they are speaking out about their needs and rights, which are often different from the gay and lesbian community.

It is only in the last year or so that most articles specifically about transgender people have been published. In an article in the July 21-27 2006 issue of the Mail & Guardian, there was an article called “Gender, a state of mind” by Yolandi Groenewald. The article focuses on two transgender individuals in Pretoria, one female-to-male (FTM), named Robert Hamblin, and the other male-to-female (MTF), named Natalie Louw. Groenwald writes:

“Most of us understand what being lesbian, gay, or bisexual is all about, but being transgender is an issue that still has to come out of the closet,’ [Hamblin] said. Hamblin believes prejudice against transsexuals can be eliminated with better information campaigns. The organization has started lobbying the Department of Home Affairs to make it easier for people to change their sex, a process that is complicated despite the necessary laws being in place.”

Groenewald also describes the lack of state-provided care for transgender people in South Africa:

“Many private clinics perform sex change operations, but the state allows only six  people a year at the Pretoria Academic Hospital. One person has the authority to  approve or reject the operation.”

Liesl Theron, the president of Gender Dynamix (currently the only NGO in the African continent specifically for transgender people), published an article in the May 2006 issue of Source, a GLBT magazine based in Cape Town. In it, she gives a sort of “Transgender 101,” a very simple crash-course in transgender identity and sensitivity. She explains that gender and sexual orientation are separate, and cites reasons why the gay & lesbian community should care about transgender issues – “The art lies in not creating another set of boundaries or labels to tag people with, but rather to suggest a much more fluid inclusivity.”  

These articles have provided increased visibility and discussion around transgender identity and rights. The documents allude to a certain disconnect between the transgender movement and the larger queer rights movement, which implies a need for reconciliation even between the queer and transgender movements.  After close examination, it seems clear that in the aftermath of colonization and apartheid, reconciliation must extend beyond race, color, and ethnic groups – it must also include the impact of these regimes on the body, gender, and sexuality.

“Everything in me is tough.”

Three life histories of transmasculine South Africans

ZANE, age 38, PRETORIA

“I was a bit of a nightmare child.”

Born on the South Coast to “terribly British” parents, Zane  describes himself as having been “a bit of a nightmare child.” He attributes his childhood rebellion largely to the fact that his conservative family could not accept that he did not fit into traditional gender roles:

“Growing up with a mother who was so terribly British and came from this  aristocrat thing where you’re taught you shouldn’t be gay and your girls must act  like girls and your boys must act like boys, I rebelled a lot, probably more  because of her than because of other’s people’s comments. It was kind of like, if  I’m not even accepted in my own family … what other people say, I don’t care,  they don’t mean anything to me, but if my own family can’t even accept me, then  I kind of just rebelled and … used to run away from home and go out  drinking and come home and puke all over my mother’s carpet.”

Zane, assigned a female gender at birth, believed he was a boy from the start. Unfortunately, this resulted in a lot of teasing from other children, which made school very difficult for him.  In primary school, he played with his brother’s friends (all male), but “for the most part I was just sort of isolated in a corner.” He felt frustrated by having to wear a schooldress and fought against it, but ultimately, “there was nothing I could do.” As soon as he got home, he changed into boys’ clothes.

Around the age of seven, Zane’s family moved into a different neighborhood, where the local children did not go to his school. This served as a prime opportunity for him to be recognized as a boy. He told the neighborhood children that his name was David – “I was David, and I was a guy.” He successfully “passed” as male for a while, telling his friends that the dresses in his closet belonged to a sister that was away until one day that he describes as “devastating:”

 “I used to go out and play with [the boys] in the river and all that shit, and then  one day one of the guys came to the door and my mother opened it and said ‘Yes  can I help you?’ and they were like, ‘Can David come out and play?’ and she said,  ‘No, there’s no David here!’ and they said, ‘No, no, there is, we’ve been here!’    … So, I was fixing my bicycle, and they said ‘Oh, there he is!’ and my mother  said, ‘That’s not David, that’s my daughter!’ So they were freaked out, they didn’t  want to play with me anymore.”

It was around this time that Zane first heard the word “lesbian,” a word that his mother used for him. He knew that he was attracted to girls from a young age, but never felt like a girl himself. He says that it was his masculinity combined with his attraction to other girls that resulted in others labeling him as a lesbian: 

“In those days, you didn’t know about transsexualism, so you kind of thought that  you were a lesbian, because there was a word there – that was the only kind of  lifestyle that people put you into. You knew that ‘Ok, well, I like women’ and you  were identified by the general population as a woman, so therefore, you are a  lesbian.”

High school was even more difficult for him than primary school, because “a lot of people were searching for their own identity, so anyone who was different, it was like, ‘Oh, you’re confusing things,’ so they hammered on them.”  Zane was expelled from multiple schools for bad behavior, and was eventually sent to a convent, and then to reformatory school. He actually cites his experiences in reformatory as  “better, because there were all these other chicks who had their own issues.” 

While in high school, Zane took on another male name, as he had as a small child. He was called “Sean” by his schoolmates, which was initially a derogatory name that the other students used to mock his masculinity, but it eventually stuck. In fact, Zane preferred the name, as he thought it better to be called a derogatory male name than by his legal female name.

 “There’s other people like you, that have actually done this thing.”

At age 18, Zane knew that he wanted to have gender reassignment surgery. He told this to his father, who discouraged him from pursuing it as an option due to a lack of good quality medical resources and the possibility of social ostracism. He told Zane to wait until he was older to make a definite decision.
 About six months after this conversation, Zane had his first contact with another female-to-male (FTM) transman at a gay club in Durban. One of his friends pointed the man out to him:
 “It was the first time I’d heard about it – it was like, ‘Hey, geez, there’s other  people  like you, that have actually done this thing.’”

Zane did not speak with the man that night, although he later wished that he had. He did not actively pursue a physical transition (hormones and surgery) immediately afterward, and chose to focus on his career instead, although he knew that he would someday make a full transition from female to male - “It was like … I always knew it would happen.” He worked in typically male-dominated fields, starting with the motor industry. Because he was seen as female, Zane was met with persistent sexism in the garages where he worked. “They couldn’t fire me,” he said, “but they made it unbearable so I would leave.”
 About six years ago, Zane met his wife in a gay chat room on the Internet. They were married (albeit not legally) two years ago, and now the former wild-child is the stay-at-home father of a nearly two-year-old daughter, who he describes as “a real Daddy’s girl.” It was after his daughter was born that Zane decided to pursue the option of physical transition. His wife did not approve, because she is a self-identified lesbian, and he says she dislikes the idea of being with a man.

Despite his wife’s protest, Zane wanted to begin his physical transition before his daughter had a working memory:

“I didn’t know where to start. It was like, I always knew it would happen, but it  was never the right time. And then, last year, I was like, ‘It’s now.’ Especially  with  my daughter being born and that. I mean, I don’t want her being ridiculed at  school  the way I was because people are going to see [her] as the child of a lesbian couple.  And I’m not a lesbian!”

“I didn’t know any other trans guys, and I didn’t know where to start looking for a surgeon.”

Although he was determined to begin his transition, Zane did not know where to find a surgeon for his chest. Quite techno-savvy, he has the Internet in his home, and used it to search for resources. He came across Transster.com, an American website that contains a directory of surgeons for transgender men and photographs of the results. There was one surgeon listed in Durban, but when Zane contacted him, he said that he was no longer performing the kind of surgery that he wanted to have. 

In January 2006, Zane met Robert Hamblin, one of the most outspoken and well-known transgender activists in South Africa. Robert, who serves on the board of GenderDynamix, told him about the organization. “Before I knew about GenderDynamix, I didn’t know any other trans guys, and I didn’t know where to start looking for a surgeon for my chest.” He became a member of the website, and emailed Liesl Theron, the president of the organization, inquiring about surgeons to perform gender reassignment surgery in South Africa. She gave him information on a surgeon in Pretoria, and in June of the same year, he had a bilateral masectomy, giving him a male chest.

Almost six months after his surgery, Zane’s face lights up when he talks about it. He puts his hand flat on his chest and says, “Those first couple of weeks … what a pleasure! And even now, you realize sometimes, [rubs chest] ‘Oh, cool!’”  He has no regrets about having surgery, and is glad to be rid of his breasts, “It was a long time with them, a long time of hating them.”

Zane began taking testosterone injections through a local endocrinologist two months after his surgery. Unlike most other FTMs, Zane did not have to provide a psychologist’s letter of approval before he could start taking hormones. In fact, he has never seen a therapist of any kind for gender-related issues, and never felt like he needed to – “There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.”

Most of what Zane knows about the effects of testosterone injections he learned from his own research on the Internet. He seems well-informed of the potential risks associated with taking hormones, which he lists as high cholesterol, liver problems, low bone density, male pattern baldness, and ovarian cancer. Zane is not at risk for ovarian cancer, however, because he had a full hysterectomy in 2001.
 Knowing his wife would be upset, he did not inform her of his final decision to begin hormone therapy until after his first shot. This has caused a quite a strain on their relationship, but Zane thinks that his wife will get used to it, that once the testosterone has taken its full effect, she will have less trouble calling him “Zane” and using male pronouns for him.

“The people who know me … I’ve always been a guy to them.”

Zane does not plan to tell his daughter about his female past until she is much older, once she reaches young adulthood. He does not want to tell her during her teenage years because “When you’re a teenager, something like that will really freak you out. I’ll tell her I’m not her biological dad, she’ll know that.” 

Generally, it seems as though Zane’s coming out process is on an “as needed” basis. He has not yet told his parents or older brother about his transition, and does not plan to. Instead, he plans to wait to see if they notice the changes. His younger brother is supportive, however, and even helped to fund Zane’s chest surgery.  He is currently working as the manager of the security complex where he lives, and casually told his supervisor of his transition, who did not seem surprised or upset by the news. In general, he says he has not encountered any problems: “The people who know me … I’ve always been a guy to them.”

“Just because you’re also transgender doesn’t mean I need to be your buddy.”

Since he has had surgery and begun hormone therapy, Zane says he has felt less of a need for the resources for which he was once desperate, and has been less involved with GenderDynamix:

“I don’t see myself as being a big transgender group person. I’m not the kind of  person that I feel like I need to belong somewhere. I don’t think that I have  anything in common with the girls [MTFs], I just, yeah, we might have gone  through a similar process, but just because you’re also transgender doesn’t mean I  need to be your buddy.”

Through GDX, Zane has met three other transmen, but only feels an affinity with one of them, Scott , who also lives in Pretoria. Scott and Zane are quite close, and started their respective transitions at about the same time. The organization has also recently assisted him in organizing the necessary documents to be sent to the Human Affairs Department of the government in order to change his gender legally. He still occasionally posts on the website’s message board, but does not attend the social events organized in the area.

Zane cites three main reasons for keeping his distance from GDX, which include a decreased need for concrete information about medical and legal resources, his “autonomous” personality that he attributes to being isolated as a child, and a reluctance to expose his young daughter to other transsexual/transgender people:

“I don’t want [my daughter] to get older and be really confused. It’s nothing  against  them, it’s just that I have a family now, I’m a family man, and I have to do what’s  best for them. It’s not that I have anything against them, I just don’t feel that  much  in common with them.”

Despite this, Zane believes that GDX is an extremely important organization, and seems to be grateful for its existence and the help it has given him:

“I think in a way, it’s sad for a lot of people that we don’t have [support systems].  But, you know, things are changing. The community is growing and getting to  know each other and realizing that they’re not the only ones. People need to feel  that it’s not just them, because when you’re dealing with something like that in  isolation, it gets really difficult. It drowns you.”

“Everything in me is tough.”

Three life histories of transmasculine South Africans

STEVE, age 20, PRETORIA

“I’m always confident. I always have had high self-esteem.”

Steve  carries herself with an air of confidence and chivalry, with a beaming smile and a firm handshake. When she is not studying Human Resources Management at the University of South Africa, she works as a nearly full-time volunteer for OUT, an LGBT organization based in Pretoria. There, she helps to mobilize gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people from all over the city and its surrounds for social events, sexual health workshops, and awareness campaigns. Steve is also involved with several other organizations in the Joint Working Group, a coalition of nine GLBT organizations in South Africa. When asked what it is that makes her such a powerful activist, she says, “For me, it started when I was young. I’m always confident. I always have had high self esteem.”

Steve has certainly beaten the odds in getting to where she is now. Orphaned at age seven, she grew up in a township home with her grandmother, aunt, uncle, and her two brothers.  From a young age, Steve was quite masculine:

“It started when I grew up. I didn’t like playing with girls; I didn’t like playing  with girls’ toys. It was me playing with boys, boys, boys. And I struggled from  the age of eleven up until age sixteen accepting the fact that I’m a girl. And for  me, it was, you know, ‘I’m a boy.’”

“She knew what it was to be a lesbian, how being a lesbian is.”

Age eleven is the year that Steve cites as the time when “everything changed.” She says that it was then that she began to realize that she felt different from other children her age, and had difficulty accepting that she was a girl. She began cutting her hair short, refusing to wear dresses at all, and asked to play a male character in the school play (which she did). When she began menstruating, she says, “I cried the first time. I cried! It was like, ‘What’s happening to me?’” 

Others noticed Steve’s diversion from “typical” binary gender expression, as well. Her legal name is Mmapaseka, but has been given multiple male names through the course of her life. Her math teacher, who was also her soccer coach, called her “Rrapaseka,” the male equivalent of her birth name. The name “Steve” was given to her at age eleven by a friend of her uncle’s who she deeply admired. She says he began calling her by the name because “I was playing like a boy. [He said] Mmapaseka doesn’t suit you. Steve is better.” 

It was not long after this that Steve was introduced to the term “lesbian.” She first heard the word in Grade 6, from an older girl at her school who identified as a lesbian. She was a soccer player, and talked to Steve about “what it was to be a lesbian, how being a lesbian is.” At first, she was repulsed by the idea, because “it was at the time when I thought I was just … a boy.” It was not until she was fourteen, when she began playing on a soccer team comprised mostly of masculine lesbian women, that she began to use the word for herself.

When she entered high school, girls were required to wear skirts, something that Steve refused to do. In protest, she burned all of the skirts she was given with an iron, telling her teachers, “I just can’t wear a burned skirt!” She became the first female at her school to wear trousers on a regular basis. Her family also expected her to wear dresses to church, something she attributes partially to their Tswana culture,  “Most of the Tswanas in my community, they are more into discipline … you have to dress like this as a woman.”

“’We’ll show you who are the boys’”

Steve’s life changed forever when, at age fifteen, she was raped by a family friend. “It was about my sexual orientation,” she says, “You know, the stigmatization in the community and the discrimination is there. Men in the community would say ‘Why do you want to be boys?’ And again, it would be that, ‘We’ll show you who are the boys.’” After it happened, Steve learned that she was pregnant, and was devastated. She wanted to have an abortion, “What am I gonna do with a kid when I’m a kid?”

Steve’s aunt, who has no children of her own, asked Steve to go through with the pregnancy so that she could raise the child. Steve decided to grant her request. “I decided, it’s fine, I’ll keep it, for her. For me, I’m not into that.”  She says that the pregnancy forced her to accept and make peace with her femaleness. Her daughter turned four this year, and lives with Steve and her aunt. “She’s clever enough,” she says, “She sometimes calls me ‘Dad.’ She calls my girlfriend ‘Mother,’ and my aunt ‘Mother.’”

Many of Steve’s friends are also survivors of what is termed “corrective rape” in which men abuse lesbian women in order to “set them straight.” She says that it happens more to butch and masculine women –
 “They see me, I’m butch, masculine. They see my breasts and think, ‘What is she  doing?’ Because of that, you’re trying to be a boy, and they want to remove that from  you.”

“I used to call myself a boy, and now I’m calling myself a lesbian woman. What’s the difference?”

Steve identifies as a butch, masculine lesbian, keeps her head shaved, and sports the latest trends in men’s attire. Most of her friends are also butch/masculine lesbian women, and she generally prefers to spend her time with other queer/LGBT people:

“Sometimes you get to a heterosexual environment [or] party, sometimes you’re  not comfortable. I want to be in my comfort zone where I can drink all night  and I will never be terrified by people or harassed by people.”

Because of her masculine name and appearance, she is often perceived to be a man, something she says she enjoys: “I don’t prefer being seen as a girl … it’s like, [they think] I’m confused. And I’m not trying to confuse anyone. I know who I am.”  In fact, she says that she likes it when people refer to her with male pronouns, but only when it is people that she is close to. She also says that she “gets irritated” when men do it, because she believes that it is often done to mock her. However, when women refer to her with male pronouns, she seems to see it as a sort of recognition of her masculinity, of how she is different from other female-bodied people:

“We grow up in a society of male and female in a house. A family consists of a  male and female. And when a girl has to have a partner, it’s a male. And other  people, other women, sometimes they refer to me as male. I’m their man.”

When asked if she has ever wanted to change her body in any way, she says:

“Sometimes a thought comes, finally you can know that you are a lesbian  woman, whatever. A thought comes in your mind sometimes … How would  things  be if I had a penis?  For me, I’m sexually satisfied, but I’m saying that a thought  comes sometimes …  after a long time, how it would be, having sex, being on top,  putting something besides your hands and all that in your partner …  it’s a thought  that if you think about it today, you won’t forget about it tomorrow.  I’m saying, it’s  not like I haven’t thought about it. And it’s not like I’m going to stop thinking about  that.”

Steve tried binding her chest with bandages once. Before she became pregnant with her daughter, she says that her breasts were easily concealed if she dressed like a man. With the pregnancy, however, her breasts grew substantially and she no longer “passes” as male as often as she did. It was at this point that she experimented with binding, but has not done it again. She makes no mention of disliking, wanting to remove, or concealing her breasts.

Since her first kiss with a girl at age eleven, all but one of Steve’s partners have referred to her as their “boyfriend.” She has never, and says that she will never be, involved with another butch/masculine-identified woman: “I prefer my women to be women. And I prefer myself to be me, a boy.”

Recently, Steve met Robert Hamblin from GenderDynamix. He was the first out FTM that she has met, and says that she did not feel a connection to his identity, although she notes that they have masculinity in common: “I take him as brother, friend. If somebody is butch, [or] masculine … I would prefer to call them my brother, my friend.”

Though in many ways she sees herself, or at least a part of herself as a “boy” in terms of gender presentation and her role in romantic relationships, Steve does not identify as transgender.  Her childhood identity as a boy remains a part of her:

“[I am] having to fight the fact that I used to be a boy, I used to call myself a boy,  and now I’m calling myself a lesbian woman. What is the difference between the  two? Yes, you’re growing up and all that. But there’s a past that’s attached to you.  It’s going to be a part of me for my whole life.”

“Everything in me is tough.”

Three life histories of transmasculine South Africans

THEMBISA, age 19, RURAL KWAZULU-NATAL

 “Everything in me is tough.”

At first glance, it is difficult to tell that Thembisa , whose friends call him  Thembe, is biologically female. He has broad shoulders, a shaved head, and dresses in baggy men’s polo shirts and shorts. He frequently crosses his right arm across his chest, his hand gripping his left shoulder, neatly concealing his breasts. He lives with his family in a rural Zulu village north of Durban, where he spends his time playing soccer, watching television, socializing with his friends, and helping his family around the house. Next year, he plans to attend university in Durban, where he will study marketing. 

Thembe strongly identifies both as a lesbian and as a man, and does not see this as a contradiction. He accepts and acknowledges that he is biologically female, and occasionally refers to himself as a woman, but when asked directly if he is a boy or a girl, he consistently responds by saying, “I’m a boy” or “I’m a man.” When asked what it means to be a man, he says:

“It’s like … I’m big! It’s a tough question. [long pause] Everything in me is tough.  I’m stronger than her. I can fight, because I am a man! If they try to take my girl,  I will fight for her!”

Thembe says that this has been his identity for his entire life, that as soon as he was old enough to make his own decisions, he wore boys’ clothing and only played with boys:

“At the age of 9, I started saying, ‘No, I can’t wear [skirts]’ because I was playing  with the boys, you see? Every time, I was wearing shorts.” 

In Thembe’s childhood photo album, there is only one picture of him in a dress, and he does not appear to be old enough to walk. In all of the other pictures, his hair is cut short and he is wearing boy’s clothing, even in his primary school uniform.  At the age of eight, he insisted on being allowed to wear trousers and a shirt to school, which the school was reluctant to permit:

“I told them that I don’t like it, that skirt. It was very hard [for] them. It made  them angry. But I told them, ‘No way, I don’t like it.’ And I started wearing the  boys’ uniform.”

He says that the school was reluctant to permit him to wear the uniform he desired because they were afraid that all the other girls would follow suit. In fact, he said that some girls did ask to wear the boys’ uniform, but the principal told them that only Thembe was allowed. 

When Thembe was in late primary school, a girl came to class and talked about a television show in which gay identity was mentioned. It was the first time Thembe heard the word ‘gay,’ although he had had been interested in girls prior to that: 

“I thought about it … thought and thought and thought, and said ‘That’s where I  belong.’”

It seems that soccer has played a significant role in Thembe’s socialization as a lesbian. An avid player since the age of 9, Thembe says that he found most of his lesbian friends, as well as many of his romantic endeavors, through his all-female (at least biologically) team. He refers to many of the other players on his team as “boys,” but it remains unclear whether those people are self-identified as male. He lived with his coach while attending high school about an hour away from his home, who he also refers to as a lesbian man. “Coach told me everything about gays and lesbians. Took me to clubs, and to other gays and lesbians.” 

When I traveled to Thembe’s soccer practice, he was quite excited to point out each lesbian on the team. His best friend on the team is another extremely masculine-appearing lesbian, named Jess .  It remains unclear whether or not this person identified as male. I watched the practice from the sidelines with Thembe’s brother Sizwe, and his male friend, Thulani . Thulani was shocked at Jess’s masculinity, and said “I can’t believe that one [pointing at Jess] is a lady!” Sizwe laughed at his astonishment and responded, “She’s just like Thembe, Thulani. She’s a man.”

Since he began identifying as a lesbian, Thembe has told only his close friends, but says, “everyone knows.”  He says that everyone has been accepting of him, but smiles and says that they get irritated when their girlfriends have crushes on him – “They think that if you are a lesbian, the girls always say yes to you. But it’s not like that.”

“They call me Thembe, umfowethu.”

Despite the fact that the current King of the Zulus has stated that he thinks being gay is a “un-Zulu,” and Thembe lives in a fairly traditional Zulu area, he says that he has never encountered any significant problems, and thinks Zulu culture is accepting of gays and lesbians. He says,  “It’s okay, because when I grew up, I grew up in front of them. They see the way I am.”  In fact, he says that most of his friends in the village recognize his masculinity in the words they use to speak with him, “They call me Thembe, umfowethu .” He says that he knows of “one or two” other gay/lesbian people in the village, but has never dated anyone from his town. He says that he feels comfortable holding hands or kissing his girlfriend in the main road, and that it is “not a problem.” He certainly does not live in fear, and openly catcalls at women with his male friends.

The only prejudice that Thembe has encountered has come from Christians. “They believe in the Bible,” he says, “They say it’s a bad thing. It says men shouldn’t sleep with men.”  His mother is a Christian minister, which he says has made her less accepting of him than the rest of his family, who is not as religious:

“They believe in the Bible, and they take this as a rubbish thing, but she knows  that I am a les . But she doesn’t want to understand. She told me that I must stop  doing [this]. But I told her I can’t.”

Other than his mother’s discomfort with Thembe’s lesbian identity, his family appears to be completely accepting of him. His brothers joke about how they have to be careful when they have their girlfriends around him (because he is “such a player”), and the sister with whom he shares a room always leaves whenever his girlfriend visits so that they can have privacy.

“I am a man to her. Always.”

Currently, Thembe has a girlfriend who lives in a neighboring town. They have been together for three years, although he has been with several other women during that time. “No man can stand with one leg!” he says, and explains that he only loves his girlfriend, whereas he was involved with the others for “sex only.”  He says that his girlfriend, who does not approve of his non-monogamy, refers to him as her boyfriend:

“She knows that I am her boyfriend. I am a man to her. Always. Even if she told  her friends, she says, ‘Thembe is my boyfriend. My man.’”

All of the women Thembe has been involved with have been feminine. Shocked when I asked if he would ever be involved with a lesbian man, he said, “Who will be the man? No, I like the beautiful ones. When you are kissing [lesbian men], they have tough lips. I want soft ones.”

Clearly, Thembe identifies strongly as a man. He does both typically masculine and feminine chores around the house, although he says that the more typically feminine (ie. Cooking, cleaning) chores are “hard for me.”  He says that when there is an option, he always uses the male toilet. He has never heard the word “transgender,” nor has he heard of gender reassignment surgery or the option of hormone therapy. Even if he had, it is not clear whether he would want to pursue those options. He does, however, say, “I want to [have] a flat chest.” When I asked if he wishes that he were born into a male body, he responded, “I think I am born like a man. When I was young, I was like that. I didn’t change.”

“That’s the problem that we have, we don’t talk about our lives.”

Challenges faced by transgender men and masculine women in South Africa

Throughout these stories, as well as other interviews conducted with members of the queer/LGBT population of South Africa, I was able to identify several themes of concerns and problems that seem specific to masculine women and/or transgender men. The issues discussed in this section are ones that exist beyond the general lack of medical resources to go through full “gender reassignment,” as those issues will be discussed in the conclusion.  Generally, it seems as though many of these issues are not often seriously discussed or problematized within this population, which Steve spoke to:

“That’s the problem that we have. We don’t talk about our lives. We always talk  about girls. We always talk about booze. We always talk about clubs. I try to tell  them, someday we must talk about family, work, education… When you talk about  [things like] menstruation, they cut out.”

“Everything I did felt like one big act.”

Most participants described feeling forced into the gender identity that would correspond with their birth sex (being forced to be a woman because they were born with “female” anatomy). Most of them said this first happened through their families, in which “there were certain things that were expected as a girl.”  This included to playing with other girls, doing typically feminine chores, and dressing in typically feminine clothing. In an interview with Liesl Theron, Brett Smit, a transman, said, “Everything I did felt like one big act.”  

Participants’ rejection of female gender roles often caused problems within their families; often resulting in long-term unresolved conflicts. In addition to this, negative reactions from family and community members to their childhood expressions of masculinity often made participants feel as though they were inherently ‘bad,’ or doing something wrong, inciting self-loathing that some participants have continued to feel throughout their lives. 

Feeling forced into feminine clothing is a theme that was consistent with everyone that I interviewed. Most South African schools require gender-specific uniforms, something that most participants rebelled against. There seems to be a positive correlation between those who were allowed to wear the uniform they preferred and being more successful at school.

“Butches drink like Hell.”

Alcohol and drug abuse among masculine- and male-identified people was also a recurring theme, and was evident up in my interviews and interactions with transgender men and masculine/male-identified women. Steve said that approximately 90% of the butch women she knows smoke cigarettes, in contrast to an estimated 50% of femme-identified smokers. She also cited alcohol abuse as a major problem:
 “[Butches] drink like Hell. If we go out Friday, we drink, drink ‘til three.  Next  morning, you eat, brush your teeth, [and] drink again. This happens once in a  month for me. But for so many, they drink every day. There are femmes who  drink, but when it comes to butches, they drink more than men!”

Sebastian Matroos, sexual health manager at OUT in Pretoria, also said:

“You see a lot of drinking with masculine identified women … [they] are very  difficult to reach, often harder to reach than the [non-transgender] men.”

Steve attributed this problem to an attempt to adopt societal male gender roles, and said that butch/masculine people may be overcompensating in their desire to be recognized as such:

“You grow up in a house with a dad and a mom. Mom doesn’t do these things.  She cooks, takes care of you. Dad drinks, smokes, all that. I want to do a  duplication of what my dad does. It’s adopting society’s norms.”

“You’re in a culture where aggression is the currency of masculinity.”

In their attempts to “adopt society’s norms” for masculine and male identity, it seems that butch/masculine women and transgender men frequently take on negative qualities that are often associated with manhood. From my observation in conversations with transgender men and masculine women, these included misogynist speech, occasional homophobia toward gay men, and the expression of physical dominance over women.  Domestic violence was referenced as a problem by several participants. Busi Kheswa, who is a lesbian woman from Soweto and who works at the Gay and Lesbian Archives (GALA), spoke to this:

“They not only copy the good, but also the bad. For instance, there have been cases  of violence in lesbian relationships. And you find that the person who is violent is  the butch one, because men beat women in society. So when you copy, you copy  everything.” 

Butch women and pre-transition  transgender men also appear to be at high risk for physical and sexual violence committed against them, said Matroos:

“There’s a lot of violence, there’s been recent stories of lesbians murdered in  townships in Cape Town, and there’s a lot of that brute force that’s associated with  masculinity … If you’re a masculine woman who’s living in a context where  masculinity is asserted by violence and brute force and weapons, you’re at risk  because even if you’re not aggressive, you’re in a culture where aggression is the  currency of masculinity. It puts you in danger. If you go out drinking and you’re  dressed as a man, you act as a man, if someone wants to test your masculinity and  they come up to you with aggressional violence, there’s very real danger there.” 

Several participants also mentioned the phenomenon of ‘corrective rape,’ which comes from a variety of motivations. Often, as in Steve’s case, non-transgender men commit acts of sexual violence against masculine women in order to “teach them a lesson” that they are not biologically male, and so they should not dress or act in a masculine way. Equally troubling is the “virgin cure myth,” which is the notion that HIV/AIDS can be cured if a man engages in intercourse with a virgin woman. It is popular belief that because they are less likely to have had sex with men, lesbian women are therefore “virgins,” and so they are targets for rape by HIV/AIDS-infected men trying to rid themselves of the disease.  Because they are easily identified, butch/masculine women and pre-operative transgender men are at high risk for this, which Ruth Morgan, co-author of Tommy Boys, Lesbian Men, and Ancestral Wives: Female same-sex practices in Africa, spoke to:

“Black masculine identified women are targeted a lot more for rape in South Africa.  That’s not true in other parts of Africa. They’re given a hard time by men, they’re  identified just by the way they look.”

Thus, the fear of rape and sexual assault is a source of stress for many masculine- and male-identified women and transgender men. Anthony Manion, archivist at GALA, said that in the few interviews with transmen that GALA has in its archives, “Personal safety is a big issue. The issue of not feeling safe, of feeling vulnerable.”  He spoke of a post-op transman for whom, even after surgery and hormone therapy, “A source of fear for him was penetrative rape, more so than the transwomen I interviewed.”

“The younger generation is saying, ‘Get over it! We’re all women!”

Several people mentioned feeling separate from the mainstream gay and lesbian movement, or being rejected on some level by lesbian communities because of their masculinity. Liesl Theron said that for transgender men, “It’s easier to come out in front of heterosexuals than it is in front of lesbians.”   When I brought up the issue of feeling rejected by lesbians with a group of several other transmen, many said that it was something they had encountered. Some said that lesbian friends had had the most difficult time adjusting to their transitions, and that some lesbians had seen them as “selling out” to a male identity.

In Zane’s case, although he says he does not have any desire for respect or acceptance from the mainstream gay and lesbian community, his wife has been reluctant to accept and approve of his transition because she is lesbian identified, and is not entirely keen on the idea of being married to a man.  This is clearly difficult for him, as it was a recurring theme throughout our conversations.

Generally, it seems that transgender men are much less visible than transgender women, in that fewer transmen have come out publicly. GenderDynamix has only a handful of FTM members, in comparison to the number of MTF members. Anthony Manion (GALA) commented on this, theorizing that “ it might be that feminism [in South Africa] is still stuck in the ‘70’s, the ‘80s.  It’s perhaps not as nuanced as it is in Europe and the U.S. and Canada, so there’s a lot of emphasis placed on the fact that ‘We’re women, we’re not men.’… so people who are masculine-identified feel less comfortable talking about that.”
  Busi Kheswa said that this phenomenon exists outside of transgender politics, and is also playing a role in lesbian culture. In fact, she says, butch/masculine lesbians are also sometimes written off as “old fashioned”: 

“[Butch lesbian culture] is gonna die. Because … there’s no support. Especially the  older you get, the more .. I mean, I was at a funeral and my friend was  commenting on the young lesbians …‘For older butches to be visible as a butch  lesbian, it doesn’t look good. One knows somehow that the older you get, the  more you change toward invisibility.’ Yeah, so, I feel it’s gonna die. The younger  generation is saying ‘Get over it! We’re all women!’” 

“I’ve got the best of both worlds, so to speak.”

In spite of the challenges that face them, all of the people that I interviewed and researched are proud of who they are.  Many seemed grateful for the unique knowledge they had as people who, to varying degrees, have toed the line between male and female. Though the problem of misogyny is a very real one, particularly amongst transgender men, many FTM-identified men say they are more sensitive to women as a direct result of their own personal histories.  Brett Smit eloquently said:

“I’ve got an advantage over most biological males. I was raised as a girl … getting to  see what the other side is like, even experiencing most of the things that young girls  and young women [experience] – being stared or ogled at, men making rude  comments. It’s given me a better idea of what women don’t like and aren’t  comfortable with. To me, it’s a blessing being transgendered. I’ve got the best of  both worlds, so to speak.”

Robert Hamblin, the leading FTM activist in South Africa was also quoted in the November 2006 issue of Glamour: 

“You wouldn’t believe the world that’s opened up to me as a man. People listen to  me when I complain and I seem to get things done more easily. I also have less fear  – not because I was ever raped or treated badly by a man, but because women live  with a constant fear of the possibility of violence. It’s also strange to be on the other  side of the equation. Women have always protected me, but now I’m seen as a threat  … The most important thing I’ve learned is that we place too much emphasis on  gender. I wish it wasn’t such a pivotal discriminatory factor in our society. And I  should know: I’ve seen the world from both sides!”

The butch/masculine-identified women I interviewed also have a strong sense of pride in their identities, and some believe that without butch/masculine women, lesbianism would not be as visible. Busi Kheswa said,

“I think butch people are strong. Not physical strength, but they are emotionally  strong. Especially in terms of lesbian visibility. Because  people always claim, ‘No, in  my township, there’s no lesbians!’ but as soon as there’s a butch one [it’s  recognized]”

“Every transgender person in South Africa has to reinvent the wheel”

Finding the “T” in South African LGBT organizations

Post-apartheid South Africa has seen a significant boom in the number of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) serving historically oppressed populations. This includes the development of NGOs whose intention is to serve gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and intersex (“LGBTI”) people.  Most of the largest and well-known LGBTI organizations in South Africa have joined the Joint Working Group (JWG), which was founded in 2003 with the goal to “strengthen the organized LGBTI sector to maximize our response to LGBTI needs through partnership, collective use of resources, and drawing on the strengths of participating organizations.”  The JWG includes the following organizations

• Durban Lesbian and Gay Community Health Centre
• Forum for the Empowerment of Women
• Behind the Mask
• The Lesbian and Gay Equality Project
• Gay and Lesbian Archives
• OUT – LGBT Well-Being
• Triangle Project
• GenderDynamix 
• UNISA Centre for Applied Psychology

Seven of the nine organizations listed above claim to serve the entire LGBT community – the Forum for the Empowerment of Women (whose primary focus is black lesbians) and the UNISA Centre for Applied Psychology do not. However, many of these groups are still struggling to find ways to support transgender people within the larger queer/LGBT population of South Africa.

“Every transgender person in South Africa has to reinvent the wheel.”

GenderDynamix (GDX) is the first, and currently the only, transgender-focused organization in the African continent.  Liesl Theron, a non-transgender woman, founded the group and now serves as its president. She is supported by the board of the organization, which has 10 people – half of them are transgender-identified. 

Theron first became interested in transgender rights after dating transgender men and realizing how difficult it was to find the resources to transition:

“Even your LGBT organizations, within South Africa, are like the rest of the  world I  suppose, [say] LGBT and once you start questioning what services are for the T, they  are nonexistent or very minimal. So that made me realize that each and every  transgender person in South Africa has to reinvent the wheel. [They] have to find  out, where is this, where is that? Then they transition, and they just want to keep  going on with their life, [and] they deliberately go into stealth, and with them goes all  the information.”

GDX’s primary way of reaching transgender people is through its extensive website, at the heart of which are informal message boards (called “forums”) where members can post questions, concerns, community announcements, or any other pertinent information. The site also has photo albums from group events that members can access, and links to other sites with relevant information. In order to access all of the website’s resources, one must become a member and develop an online “profile” in which you can list your gender identity, sexual orientation, location, contact information, and fill out a short biography or “About Me” section.

Currently, GDX has about 130 members , and most of them have only made contact with the organization through the Internet. This presents a problem, because the majority of South Africans do not have regular access to the Internet. “It’s a big disadvantage,”  says Theron, and she says that the organization is trying to find other ways to reach out, including newspaper and magazine articles, radio, and word of mouth within the queer/GLBT community. Through these mediums, she hopes to make contact with people who are transgender or questioning their gender identity. When she does find them, Theron directs them toward the website, and to the two support groups associated with GDX: T-Junction in Cape Town, and Budding Roses in Johannesburg.

T-Junction was started by Theron and members of GenderDynamix within the last year, and is a mixed group of transmen and transwomen that meet for periodical, informal social events. The group has twenty members, although Theron knows of twice that many transgender-identified people in Cape Town. However, many of them are living in stealth, or are not interested in a support group. The group is mostly white, but there are a few non-white members that attend on a regular basis, and Theron says they are actively trying to create a more racially diverse group.

Budding Roses was started about four years ago, before the creation of GenderDynamix, and has no official relationship or affiliation with them. It began as an informal social group for transgender (MTF) women, and had four founding members. Today, the group has about 35 members in total, and almost all of them are white transgender women. The main organizers of the group, Michelle and Amy , say that it is only in the last year that “one or two” transmen have attended Budding Roses events, but that they “didn’t stay long.”  They said that they have had only a few non-white people attend events, and none of them lived in a township, to their knowledge. They cite this as being a problem of geography, that the group does try to offer ride-shares, but usually the townships are “too far out of the way. ”

The overwhelming majority of the members of GDX, T-Junction, and Budding Roses are white. This is largely due to the country’s history of systematic oppression of non-white people, and the lingering effects of apartheid. Most non-white South Africans do not have access to the Internet, which is the primary point of entry to these groups. It is also important to mention that the term “transgender” was not developed in Africa, although the concept seems to have existed for centuries. Anthony Manion (GALA) commented on this:

“These are words that most people who grow up in not just township areas but  unresourced areas are not familiar with. And when they hear them, they don’t  understand what they mean. In our work, we’ve heard some people say words like  ‘transsexual’ to refer to bisexual people. Words like transgender and transsexual are  words that are coming from the West, so it’s communities that have the most  contact with the West that are using those words.”

At its first meeting, the Board of GDX set a goal of trying to set up three new support groups each year, so that they may be able to reach out to more people who may not be able to access the Internet. Theron hopes that they will be able to start some groups in townships and other predominately non-white areas.  GDX’s strategy in doing this is to work through pre-existing organizations. Theron hopes that through training existing organizations on transgender identity, they will be able to support people who come to them with questions regarding gender identity. Once this happens, she thinks that these NGOs will discover that there are more transgender people in their organization than they may have thought. Once she is able to find transgender people, then hopes to empower and train these people in starting their own support groups in the communities in which they live.

Right now, she says that most people within the queer/LGBT community believe that “you are only gay or lesbian,”  and do not know or fully understand the idea of being “transgender.”  As a result of this, many people who identify with a gender different from their birth sex are told that they are gay or lesbian because of their gender expression.

For example, a person from a township in Pretoria recently approached OUT – LGBT Well Being, expressing a desire to find more information on Gender Reassignment Surgery and hormone therapy.  The staff has a close relationship with GenderDynamix, and told the person to call Robert Hamblin. At the time, the person was lesbian-identified, which caused some confusion between the two organizations. Liesl recounts the situation:

“I think a lot of times there is not vocabulary available, but the concepts are  mostly  the same. He phoned Robert and says, ‘I got your number from OUT, and  I’m a  lesbian.’ And Robert says, ‘Why did you phone me ?’ Because we are all thinking [ in  terms of] transgender … but then we listen more and the wish is for hormones, the  wish is for surgery, he clearly knows that is the route he wants to take. But the  wording initially was still ‘lesbian.’”

In general, Gender Dynamix is overwhelmed by trying to support all of South Africa’s transgender population. It appears that the other organizations in the Joint Working Group, as well as queer/LGBT groups that are not members of the JWG, are referring everyone that comes to them with questions regarding gender identity to GDX. In some ways, this is a positive thing, in that GDX’s name is certainly getting a lot of publicity within the queer/LGBT NGO sector. Transgender and gender non-conforming people are finding others like them, many after decades of believing that they were the only ones. GDX’s website is an important centralized source of information exchange regarding surgeons, endocrinologists, therapists, and general information on the necessary resources required to make a full physical transition.

However, Theron does not have the capacity to counsel every transgender or gender non-conforming person that comes her way. She is the only full-time staff member of GenderDynamix, and receives no salary. It is important that other LGBT organizations in South Africa hold themselves accountable to the “T” in that acronym. GDX hopes to provide trainings for these groups so that they will have a clear understanding of what transgender identity is and how to help people who may be struggling with issues of gender identity.

It is important to mention that there are other organizations besides GDX that are making a concerted effort to be trans-inclusive. OUT in Pretoria has a transgender woman on their Board, a transgender nursing sister who has volunteered for the organization, and is in the process of creating a brochure specifically about transgender people and identity. They regularly host transgender-identified speakers, and have workshops and discussions regarding gender identity. They recently opened a small LGBT health clinic at their office, and are hoping to eventually make it available as a transgender clinic on a weekly or monthly basis, depending on demand. 

The Gay and Lesbian Archives (GALA) in Johannesburg recently began a Transgender Oral History Project, in which they are attempting to record the life histories of South Africans whose “biological sex is different from their internal sense of their own gender.”   Anthony Manion, says that because the word “transgender” has not been adopted within all South African communities, they try to use it as little as necessary:

“We call it the transgender project for convenience, but we don’t use labels like  transgender or transsexual as criteria for interviewing people, because that would  exclude a huge number of black South Africans who do not use that terminology,  but who nevertheless, when you interview them, they talk about a sense that their  biological sense is different from their internal sense of their own gender.”

This project is being conducted in collaboration with GenderDynamix. GALA trained Liesl Theron on interviewing skills and techniques, and she has managed to do six interviews with transgender-identified South Africans. GALA has done a total of five so far. Together, they hope to get a minimum of fifteen more interviews by 2007.  From the interviews, GALA is planning to design a  “digital story project” that will include digital photographs of participants played in a slideshow with an audio recording of their interviews. After that, they hope to publish a book including all of the life histories they have collected.
 These projects and initiatives all show great promise, and will hopefully set a standard for other queer/LGBT-focused NGOs in South Africa to begin to devote time and resources meeting the needs and recording the history of transgender and gender non-conforming people.

Conclusion

Throughout the interviews and other resources used for this research, it is clear that masculine and male-identified women and transgender men have unique needs that must be addressed, including: substance addiction, the potential desire for Gender Reassignment Surgery and hormone therapy, feelings of rejection from family, friends, and the gay and lesbian community, and fear of sexual assault and “corrective rape.”  Additionally, in misdirected efforts to prove their masculinity, problems of misogyny and homophobia, domestic abuse and violent behavior, and negligence of personal health have developed within this group. 

Currently, most LGBT organizations in South Africa are not holding themselves accountable for providing resources and information for the “T” in the acronym that has become a simple “catch phrase” in the modern queer rights movement. Many offer services for lesbian women that are utilized by masculine and male-identified lesbians, but as Sebastian Matroos of OUT alluded to, “masculine identified women are very difficult to reach …  they often seem aloof, nonconformist, they don’t want to associate with issues.”  In other words, masculine and male-identified women may be present at workshops and discussions about lesbian health, sexuality, and other issues, but they often do not seem fully engaged. From my conversations and interactions with masculine/male-identified women, I believe that rather than a reflection on the personal character of these individuals, it may be that in fact, they need a space of their own, where they can talk about butch/masculine identity and what their specific needs and concerns are. 

There is a clear lack of medical and legal resources for people who self-identify as transgender, with just one state-run hospital that performs only six Gender Reassignment Surgeries per year. One man decides which six people are granted what, for many of them, has been a lifelong wish to look in the mirror and see a body that matches their heart and mind. There is only one NGO in Africa that specifically focuses on the needs of transgender people, and it has only one full-time volunteer staff member and very little funding. The membership of GenderDynamix’s website alone indicates that the number of transgender identified people in South Africa is far greater than these resources can effectively accommodate. 

Despite the challenges they face and the hardships they have already encountered, all of the transgender men and butch/masculine identified women that I spoke with remain intensely proud of who they are. In their interactions with each other, they often refer to each other as “brothers.” Indeed, they are connected - their eyes all possess a kind of wisdom unique to the lives they have led, with a consciousness that most people will never have, and reflect the immense strength and courage that it often takes for them to live their lives exactly as they are.

Recommendations for Further Study

Due to limited time and resources, I was unable to address all of the concerns facing the transgender and transmasculine population of South Africa, as well as the larger transgender rights movement. First of all, a similar project with transgender women and transfeminine-identified South Africans would prove equally interesting and important. 

A more in-depth look at misogyny, homophobia, and hypermasculinity among transgender men and masculine women would also be worthwhile. This population has immense potential as feminists and general allies to women, because most of them have a kind of knowledge of the experience of being viewed as female that most men will never possess. Unfortunately, their efforts to be recognized and prove themselves as masculine are sometimes misdirected.

Another issue deserving of more critical thought is that of terminology. Who uses the word ‘transgender’? Where are the lines between identifying as a lesbian man, a masculine woman, or a transgender man? Are there any? In addition to this, an important question that has emerged with the gay rights movement and the subsequent transgender movement is whether trans rights activists will be able to accommodate the needs of transgender people and raise awareness about transgender identity without problematizing identities of people that may have been historically normalized and dealt with on an individual basis in traditional African society. This could be done through a comparative, in-depth study of concepts of gender identity in more traditional (and probably rural) areas in South Africa versus a more urban perspective. 

Additionally, a look at the impact of the growing number of “out” transgender men and the development of a transgender rights movement on feminism, as well as the lesbian community in South Africa would also be valuable.

Interviews

In chronological order
Format: Name, organization (if applicable), and place of interview

• Thembe, rural KZN – September 31, 2006 and November 29, 2006
• Liesl Theron, CEO of GenderDynamix, Cape Town – October 13, 2006 and November 22, 2006.
• Anthony Manion, Gay and Lesbian Archives, Johannesburg – November 20, 2006
• Busi Kheswa, Gay and Lesbian Archives, Johannesburg – November 20, 2006
• Ruth Morgan, Gay and Lesbian Archives, Johannesburg – November 21, 2006
• Sebastian Matroos, OUT- LGBT Well Being, Pretoria – November 22, 2006
• Zane Halle, Pretoria – November 22, 2006
• Michelle and Amy, organizers of Budding Roses, Johannesburg – November 23, 2006
• Zama Sibiya, Forum for the Empowerment of Women, Johannesburg – November 24, 2006
• Steve Letsike, Durban – November 26, 2006.

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Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the staff at the School for International Training in Durban for their support throughout the semester and in this project.

I would also like to acknowledge the staff of the Gay and Lesbian Archives for their encouragement and for providing me with extensive resources for this paper, and Liesl Theron for her endless connections and passion for trans rights.

I would also like to thank my friends and community at home for their love and concern for me in this journey.

I would like to express my deepest gratitude to Zane, Steve, Robert, Lex, Liam, Phil, and all of my South African brothers for their endless courage and strength, which gives me strength and hope. Without you, this project could not be possible.

Ngiyabonga Thembe, umfowethu wami eNatal.

This paper is dedicated to anyone who has ever loved in secret, to every boy that has worn a dress and liked it, to every girl who wishes for sideburns, and to every person who has ever looked in a mirror and seen an incomplete version of themselves.

Copyright/Disclaimer

Harper B. Keenan
Eugene Lang College: The New School for Liberal Arts
School for International Training
South Africa: Reconciliation and Development
Fall 2006

Advised by: Dr. Cheryl Stobie, UKZN, Pietermaritzburg

The copyright of this article is vested in Harper B. Keenan. This article has been reproduced on the Gender DynamiX website with permission of the Author. In the online version of this article all citations have been removed and the formating changed. For the original version of the article, please visit the download section.

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