This started out as a comment to Sassafras’s last entry but it got so long that I figured it could be its own post.

I have a friend, Steve, a bi non-trans man who is very chivalrous. We used to go out to dinner and I called it “heterosexual privilege night” because I could feel people watching us when he helped me on with my coat and such and it felt very different from how people look when I’m with a butch. They were probably thinking “how sweet” or “how quaint” instead of trying to figure out who we were and what we were doing together.

Is there another word for the sort of thing we’re talking about when we say chivalrous that doesn’t have the association with knights in shining armor? Roget’s says benevolent, big, bold, brave, considerate, courageous, courteous, courtly, gallant, gentlemanlike, gentlemanly, great-hearted, heroic, high-minded, honorable, intrepid, knightly, lofty, magnanimous, manly, noble-minded, polite, quixotic, spirited, sublime, true, valorous. Ha ha. Manly! I don’t think that’s the word I’m looking for.

I was reminded recently that some of those things have practical roots. Jess and I went to a New Year’s party and I wore a long, full dress and got very fancified. Jess said she felt like “being my butch” and opening doors and stuff (Jess, if that’s not what you actually said, tell me. I don’t want to put words in your mouth.) She opened the car door and I said, “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” It was sweet but it’s not how we usually interact. Then, as I struggled to get my dress into the car with me, I realized that I was, in fact, incapable of getting into the car on my own and that my dress would be much safer if Jess helped. You’d think that wouldn’t be such a revelation considering that I’ve spent a lot of time in tutus and hoop skirts (oh, nutcracker) which require quite a bit of assitance if you need to go to the bathroom or fix your shoes or walk down a hallway. But riding in cars and subways is a whole ‘nother story.

Speaking of cars: The morning of my grandmother’s funeral we met at the funeral home. We didn’t have a limo, so all our cars were parked in the driveway. When we came out to go to the church there was a funny moment where my mom, my sisters and I all went to get in the car and the funeral home guys rushed over to open the doors for us.

And I thought, of all the women in my family, I am probably the one who’s most used to having doors opened for me. Which strikes me as funny.

Spending time with my extended family made me feel like my gender got flipped upside down. I forget that, compared to a certain upper-class, white, mainstream standard of femininity, I am not super crazy feminine. So at a wake in flats, pants, and a blazer, I look pretty butch next to my aunts and cousins in sheath dresses and heels. I’m so used to feeling outrageously, incredibly feminine in my usual social circles, but context is everything. And you can’t wear giant polka dot hoop earrings to a funeral.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 6th, 2008 at 10:59 am and is filed under musings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.