outies

Latin, meaning a woman who has not given birth. Medically speaking, a woman who has not given birth to a viable infant, that is one weighing 500 grams or more at 20 weeks gestation or more.

Not to be confused with nulligravida: a woman who has never been pregnant. Nullipara is the more popular term to describe a woman who is childfree or childless by choice.

Various parts of a large paper I wrote for an Independent Study research project at The University of Maryland, College Park can be found elsewhere on E2 but this node serves as an introduction. The paper is titled Uncloaking America's College Males: A Discursive Abjuration of American Manhood, and in retrospect, I think the title may have been worded too strongly. Other sections of the paper can be found at:

• Crying and Nudity
• Crying in American College Males
• Nudity in American College Males
• and Binary gender fallacy

It has occurred to me since posting those sections that the Introduction and other self-referential sections of the paper (i.e., sections of the work which refer to that very work itself), also have some useful background about the project, and information about my perspective. I therefore have adapted and posted the below:

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Note
In my occasional use of the term “society” throughout this paper, (and my frequent use of the word “America”, thereby implying, “American society”), do not find some notion that I consider “society” to be anything but a collection of individuals. I do not mean to imply that “society” is some group of people that does not include me, nor that American society exhibits any single unified opinion. Each of us is only responsible for the things we individually, actually do to further the negative parts of American masculinity. Very few people are exempt from blame to this end; I myself am certainly not.

Introduction

This project began as a gargantuan endeavor. At the outset, I intended to “research, observe, and document the ways in which American college men interact with their worlds, with particular emphasis on the ways in which they interact with each other.” My interest in that subject is very personal; as a college male myself, I feel developmentally unsettled. Interacting with other males has historically been, for me, an awkward and unnerving process because I have felt sure that I was oblivious to the gender-specific social rules, which seemed to come so naturally to other boys but not to me. I like to call these the “rules of engagement”, especially because when that phrase is used in military parlance, it refers to a set of guidelines which discourage interaction except under very specific, limited circumstances.*

I have remained, for most of my life, baffled by (and therefore resistant to) gender constructions, and preoccupied with understanding the meaning of American malehood. Moreover, I have been obsessed with understanding the meaning of my own maleness. Of course, ‘understanding the meaning of my own maleness’ will likely be a lifelong pursuit, and although it was my ambitious goal at the beginning of this project to explore that topic in its entirety, I have quickly determined it to be unwieldy and unsuitable. In fact, nearly every early attempt I made at narrowing the scope of this study to a manageable size revealed that I would need to narrow it yet further. I eventually arrived at two related, manageable, specific, and interesting subjects to serve as the centerpieces of this study of college men: crying and nudity.

My reasons for choosing crying and nudity (and the relationship between the two) can be found detailed here, but I will offer here more reasons for focusing on males rather than gender constructions in general. There is a bit of a paradox in my fascination with maleness. On the one hand, my spiritual beliefs do not encourage recognition of a constitutional, spiritual difference between males and females; in my spiritual thoughts, I regard the male-female dichotomy as a distracting, illusory relic of the material world. Socialized gender as a binary, biological phenomenon corresponding with genitals is scientifically baseless. Even ‘male’ and ‘female’ are terms that resist reliable definition, as I will show. But on the other hand, when in the mindset of my impassioned, socialized self, I must admit to a very different view: that ‘man’ and ‘woman’ are very much concepts that do exist (in my mind). I apply these concepts to my relationships with other people, and the way I apply them to males flatters neither those males nor me.

I offer you candor nonetheless. Men scare me. (I am male, by the way). “Man” is written in my mental lexicon alongside a thousand unpleasant concepts involving violence, force, power, greed, cold authority, hyper- and hetero- sexuality, competition, aesthetic repugnance, rank smells, dispassion, and (inconsistently enough) anger. Now, I don’t truly, intellectually believe this list to describe the only possible traits of all men. Rather, my earliest understanding, (whatever its origin), of the concept of manhood had ascribed in its most fundamental meaning these dark things, and so, for me, they are forever embedded in the concept. That is, these things must at least come to mind when I think of “men”.

Yet all at once, while scaring me on the one hand, men absolutely allure me on the other. My post-childhood experiences with heterosexual¹ men have exposed me repeatedly to situations which contradict my prejudice. In the last few years, I have formed close friendships with several male college undergraduates and twentysomethings. I have earned their trust and heard their secrets – witnessed that they are, at heart, like me. This project itself, in its creating the opportunity for highly-personal interaction with college males, has given me yet further cause to reconsider my negative generalizations about American manhood constructions, and American college men.

Through the research and reflection for this project, I do believe that I’ve come to an understanding of what it means to be an American man. It is from this understanding that I launch my passionate, evidentiary plea to the American college man to wield well his power over America’s future sons, to recognize that the genderless substance of his soul is unalterable, and most of all, to discover and be truly himself.

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Endnote

1 - In using terms associated with sexual orientation, I only imply that as far as I am aware, the people I have in mind have chosen this label for themselves. I do not mean to imply that these labels have any reliable meaning. So please read the word “heterosexual” as always preceded by “self-identified”.

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*Source: U.S. Dept. of Defense Military Dictionary.

About Gwen:

Born Eddie Araujo, Gwen grew up in the small town of Newark, California, a suburb 30 miles away from San Francisco, California. Her big dream was to become a Hollywood make-up artist.

After years of dealing with her feelings, Gwen came out to her mom as transgendered at the age of 14. "I don't fit in anywhere and I feel like a freak," Gwen told her mother. Her mother responded by holding her, and telling her, "you know what, baby? You're not a freak." She gave her both confidence and acceptance.

She began to live as a girl, having grown out her hair, and started wearing simple girl's clothes. As is common for transgendered youth, her peers were not entirely helpful. Some friends did stand by and support her, but she was subject to a lot of teasing from others. “I could see the pain in his eyes,” said Sylvia Guerrero, Gwen's mother. “People were really mean to him at school. He really tried, but no one accepted him.” Gwen eventually stopped attending Newark Memorial High School, and enrolled in an alternative school.

Unfortuately, the tormenting continued at the new school, which resulted in Gwen rarely going. “We knew he got picked on by some kids, but we never thought it would become violent,” said Steven Mathisen, a friend of Gwen's from school. She attempted to find jobs, but nobody would hire her. She also applied at local beauty schools, but was turned down at all of them. There are reports that her intense isolation and depression had even led to her using drugs and alcohol.

Finally, after all the years of slowly becoming a girl, she borrowed a skirt from a friend, a peasant blouse from her mother, and went out with some friends. "He went through a lot of pain, and people didn't respect him", her mother, Sylvia Guerrero, said. "It took a lot of guts. He's strong, and he finally came out." This was the first time she really went out completely as a girl - and unfortunately, the last time.

Her Murder:

The evening of October 4, 2002, Gwen ended up at a party at the house of Jose Merel, and had been introduced as "Lida". Being just another beautiful girl there, she got a bit of attention from some of the guys there, including 24-year-old Jose, whom she had a crush on. After doing some drinking, she ended up having sex with him (in a manner which hid certain things). Later on, even more drunk she also spent time with Jose's friend, Michael Magidson.

Something about Gwen had aroused Jose and Michael's suspicions, and then began talking about her, and became concerned that something wasn't quite normal about her. They approached Jose's younger brother, Paul. Finally, after talking over their suspicions with each other, Paul had his girlfriend, Nicole Brown, confront Gwen in the bathroom to determine her sex. When Nicole came out, she announced "It's a man; let's go."

Accounts vary, but when she came out of the bathroom, Gwen was either hit in the face or stabbed, resulting in a large gash, and then beaten. They then dragged her into the garage, and strangled her to death. After killing her, they tied her hands and feet together, wrapped her up in a bedsheet, and threw her in a truck. They dumped her body at Silver Fork Campground in El Dorado County, 100 miles away.

Though the beating had been done in full view of all the partygoers, and just about everyone knew the guys had killed Gwen, nobody talked in other than hushed rumors about the killing for two weeks, while Gwen's mother was left wondering what had happened to her. Eventually, the police were tipped by a guy that had been involved in it, Jaron Nabors, and he told them where Gwen's body could be found.

The circumstances of the murder upset many people. “Eddie was at a large party, taken to the garage, beaten, and then strangled. No one heard? No one helped?” said Gwen's friend, Crystal Mason. Gwen's uncle, David Guerrero, said “All those people who didn’t say anything are guilty by association.”

Even the police had something to say about the case. "This is a child of our community, a human being," said Newark Police Lt. Lance Morrison. "Someone was dumped like a piece of trash on the side of a mountain. A number of people could have helped, stepped in, prevented, or reported this. None of them did."

Much of the media coverage of the murder was mixed. Many in the transgender community were pleased that the murder received a lot of press, as many murders of transgendered youth receive little attention. The stories were also usually free of any "sensationalism" that offen accompanies stories about the transgendered. However, the articles frequently referred to Gwen as a "cross-dressing boy", and often stated that she was killed once her "true gender" was revealed, as if she were merely pretending to be a girl.

Even a San Francisco gay activist, Wiggsy Sievertsen, failed to acknowledge Gwen as a transgendered girl. "We really have a responsibility to be very vocal, particularly with cross-dressing boys, that this is a dangerous world for them."

Her Memorial:

Accepting Gwen as a girl had been tough for her mother. She understood the transition was tough, and she supported Gwen's decision to do so. However, she had never even been able to call her Gwen, usually just "her angel", and still has referred to her as "he" in interviews. Regardless, she honored her daughter at the funeral, by burying her as the person she wanted to be. As a final show of support, Gwen funeral was open casket, and attendees filed by, and saw Gwen with long hair, necklace, blouse, black lace gloves, and long metallic fingernails, as befitting a young woman. Her tombstone was even inscribed with the name Gwen. At the end of the service, butterflies were released, one for each year of Gwen's life.

"He was my baby. He was my son," Guerrero said at the service. "When you see someone like Eddie, smile at him."

Noted anti-gay activist Reverend Fred Phelps had threatened to picket Gwen's funeral, or as he refferd to her, "cross-dressing teen pervert Eddie Araujo," as he has picketed a number of other public memorials for GLBT people, such as Matthew Shepard. In reponse, Newark police sent officers to protect both the wake and the funeral, to avoid the possibility of the services being disrupted. Fortunately, no such picket occured, nor did another picket that had been threatened, one in support of the accused murderers.

“People shouldn’t see color, shouldn’t see race, shouldn’t see a lifestyle. They should see what’s on the inside,” said Sylvia Guerrero. “I hope people will learn something from this.”

A post-funeral ceremony at a Newark church had an attendance of about 750 people to show support for Gwen's family. The same day, a march and candlelight vigil in San Francisco attracted 500 supporters. Not long after, a very large vigil took place before a performance of "The Laramie Project" at Newark High.

In Memoriam:
Gwen Amber Rose Araujo
February 24, 1985 - October 4, 2002

The Gwen Araujo Memorial Fund may still be accepting donations. You can contribute to this fund at any Bank of America branch. Donations go to Account #10598-05854. Or you may send them to:

Eddie Araujo Jr. Memorial Fund
San Benito Bank
300 Tres Pinos Road
Hollister, CA, 95023

The Trial:

Gwen's murder and trial wasn't notable just because the victim was transgendered. In fact, Gwen's murder was the 25th transgendered person to be murdered in 2002, the highest total up to that point. But whether it was the fact that Gwen was an attractive, likeable girl, the fact that it happened so closely to a proudly open-minded and accepting place like San Francisco, or the fact that the murder was so clearly witnessed by many, it became a rallying point for many in the transgender community to point out the problem of violence toward the transgendered, and an escalating trend of violence toward transgended youth in particular.

There is little doubt that the defendents - Michael William Magidson, Jose Antonio Merel, and Jaron Chase Nabors, were there, that they beat and killed Gwen, and dumped her body. What the trial has become is a case of them trying to pin the blame on someone else, and claiming a defense of "trans panic", similar to "gay panic", to avoid the charge of first degree murder with a hate crime enhancement, as California is one of five states that includes "gender identity" in its hate-crimes statute..

Nabors eventually pleaded guilty to manslaughter, with an 11 year prison term, in return for testimony against Magidson, Merel, and a fourth man, 24 year-old Jason Cazares.

Much of the case centered around the defense arguing that the fact that Gwen had deceived the men when she had sex with them, and their later discovery made then panic and become irrational enough that they responded with the murder, without having premeditated it. Of course, all that, even though they had already been discussing suspicions over Gwen's sex and surely had put some thought into what to do if she was what they suspected.

The first trial was declared a mistrial. The jury was deadlocked 7-5 in favor of a guilty verdict for Magidson, and 10-2 against for Merel and Cazares. The jurors were split as to whether the defendants had premeditated the murder, which is necessary for the first-degree conviction. Plans are underway to retry the defendants.

Upon the mistrial being announced, Gwen's mother fled the courtroom in tears, unable to speak. She later said "I felt like I'd faint. I just wanted to crawl away and go to sleep."

_{Sources:
Gwen Araujo Memorial, http://www.jaimesite.homestead.com/gwenaraujo.html
Balagot, Jordan, In Memory of Gwen Araujo , http://transyouth.net/stories/gwen_araujo.html
Remembering Gwen, http://www.advocate.com/html/stories/877/877_araujo.asp
COMES NATURALLY #129, Spectator Magazine, http://www.sexuality.org/l/davids/cn129.html
ABCNews.com, Mom of Slain Cross-Dresser Recalls His Pain, http://abcnews.go.com/sections/GMA/GoodMorningAmerica/GMA021126Slain_cross_dresser.html}

She was my best friend. She was my first real friend. She's still one of the best friends i have even though she's 450 miles away. She was the first person to really talk to me, to give me a chance when no one else would, to actually listen to some psycho, antisocial nature boy in high school. She hung out with me, talked on the phone for hours, told me about good bands, introduced me to most of my other friends, chose clothes for me, bleached my hair, basically allowed me to climb out of the pit i was in. She went to my prom with me. She was there for me the first time i fell in love and got crushed, never expecting anything or being pushy, or complaining that i whined about other girls. She was there when i went away to college, and still there to get drunk with and talk to for hours when i came back. She was there for me the second time i fell in love and got crushed, and listened. The third time i got it right, and she didn't get jealous or complain. She's just always there. And she's a lesbian.

I can't lie - when she first told me this i was a little upset. Not because i had anything against lesbians but becuase she hadn't told me for so long. Sure, there were rumors, but rumors are rumors and I ignored them. I guess we had told each other so much, it seemed silly to leave out something big. But i guess she didnt admit it to herself, either. It was quite a shock at the time. Admittedly, although i never really disliked homosexuals, i considered them as a strange, alien thing, something i'd joke about with my friends and not really think about. This sure as hell changed my perspective. But really, it didnt change anything in our friendship, except that it improved. It's the best thing in the world to be able to hang out with someone who is a girl, who is caring and cool and has the point of view of a girl, but not to have to worry about it getting 'weird' or complicated. She was a girl, and my friend. But i didn't have to worry about anything else, because she doesnt go for boys.

I am lucky that i never ended up falling for her as i tend to for many of my friends. It's not that she isnt cute; she is. She's certainly cool enough too. But it was just never like that. She is one of the rare examples of people of the opposite sex actually considering each other like brother and sister (usually people who claim this want to either jump down each other's pants, or blow someone off). We go to the beach and check out the girls, go wander around, get drunk, drive around up on the dirt roads above LA. And it's all cool. And she's a lesbian, and i think that's awesome.