While undergoing my transformation into a full-fledged tomboy in the latter part of the 1950s, I also was navigating elementary school and extracurricular activities that included riding my 20-inch blue Huffy Customliner bicycle, building forts in a stand of mesquite trees behind our house, and reading Army recruitment flyers displayed in metal racks lining a wall in the downtown post office in Brownsville, Texas – just a stone’s throw from the Mexican border. At the time, the town’s population was about 49,000 – 10 percent or so of us were Anglos, as we were known at the time.
Most lesbians have very early memories of being shamed out of being a tomboy or behaving in any even slightly gender-non-conforming ways. No matter the decade or the continent — it happens over and over again. The saddest thing is that nowadays it goes a step further and young lesbian girls are being told they must be "boys in the wrong body".
It's a horrible feeling when that "feminine" policing comes from our caregivers (mothers, teachers, close relatives). I now try to look back with empathy at what my own mother was doing and think about it as her "trying to protect me", and I can see why she did that, even though it didn't work.
Always a pleasure to read your stories, Kay. Looking forward to reading the next part!
Feminine policing nails it. The toxicity of it is heartbreaking, as is the message of "boys in the wrong body," which has a numbing quality to it. I've often wondered what my young tomboy would have thought if this option had been available. Thanks for you for your observations. My next piece to publish picks up on this topic.
What a vibrant slice of life and history! Your detailed memory of that place and time are a rich palette for your words. I can see your grandparents, the border, the store. I’m glad Salina didn’t erase the Magic Valley or, clearly, your spirit.
Most lesbians have very early memories of being shamed out of being a tomboy or behaving in any even slightly gender-non-conforming ways. No matter the decade or the continent — it happens over and over again. The saddest thing is that nowadays it goes a step further and young lesbian girls are being told they must be "boys in the wrong body".
It's a horrible feeling when that "feminine" policing comes from our caregivers (mothers, teachers, close relatives). I now try to look back with empathy at what my own mother was doing and think about it as her "trying to protect me", and I can see why she did that, even though it didn't work.
Always a pleasure to read your stories, Kay. Looking forward to reading the next part!
Feminine policing nails it. The toxicity of it is heartbreaking, as is the message of "boys in the wrong body," which has a numbing quality to it. I've often wondered what my young tomboy would have thought if this option had been available. Thanks for you for your observations. My next piece to publish picks up on this topic.
What a vibrant slice of life and history! Your detailed memory of that place and time are a rich palette for your words. I can see your grandparents, the border, the store. I’m glad Salina didn’t erase the Magic Valley or, clearly, your spirit.
I really must say that I much enjoy you talking about your own experiences and family history like this, Kay!
I've been wanting to do pretty much the same thing but with mine, but along with my very many other interests haha.