musingsonwomenshealth.com

Reflections on 40 years as a doctor in Women's Health

I go by…?


I realize that I am still swimming upstream on many issues -no doubt it’s a function of the number of years that I drag behind me like an anchor in mud; and yet I suspect we’re all at least partially tethered to our past.

Take names as an example[i]: there was a time when a child was named to honour an ancestor -an aunt or significant relative perhaps. Using the name of a reigning monarch, significant personage from government, ruling elite, or even one of religious heritage were all the rage in days gone by as well. I suppose famous names from movie stars or popular figures on social media have supplanted many of those, nowadays -but let’s face it, barring neologisms, there are only so many names available.

I used to dislike my own name Gary for some reason, and when I was still in the lower grades in school, occasionally resorted to one of my middle names (James was my favourite), but they never caught on with the teachers even when I asked them to use it for me. Like a brand, my name seemed copyright-protected once it was in the official records… I couldn’t just ‘go by’ another.

Growing up like that, I suppose I came to think that, apart from a nickname, changing a name was largely non-negotiable, at least amongst those who knew me, those who worked with me, and those who had originally named me. I mean my mother was ‘mom’, or some equivalent cognate thereof, not ‘Helene’ which non relatives were allowed to call her. The same with my father whom I alone called ‘dad’… This was considered appropriate in those halcyon days: an obvious term of respect; an honorific bestowed and restricted to members of the family.

There are other names –honorifics– that are awarded as signs of respect of course like, say, ‘doctor’, ‘your honour’ or even, as an introduction, ‘the honourable’… But they aren’t really names -they’re more like prefixes, rewards…

So for me, a name began to have a whiff of the sacred attached to it -not only was it an identifiable feature of a person, it was also their identity, with their remembered agency closely bound to the name. Given that, how much leeway are we allowed?

Clearly, a stranger initially introducing themselves can choose the name by which they wish to be known. If her name is Elizabeth, for example, she may prefer ‘Liz’, ‘Betty’, or any number of variations on ‘Elizabeth’; it’s her choice which one to use. I think most of us would respect that, and only resort to another iteration with her permission, or as a sign of increasing friendship in which variations would indicate a closer familiarity.

But what if one day she told everybody that she decided she wished to be called Hermione? That would be her choice, of course, but until the ‘Elizabeth’ -or the ‘Betty’ in her receded; until you understood that her choice was not an arbitrary and temporary decision; until you realized that for some reason it was important for her to be known as Hermione and not Elizabeth, you would probably still think of her as the name by which you had always known her… Well, until you either adapted to the change, or she -like me in Grade 4 who had naïvely assumed the teacher would acquiesce- changed her mind and figured it was not really worth the confusion it engendered with her long-time friends.

I understand that. More difficult for me, sometimes, is not so much the name, or even the gender with which someone chooses to identify -“I’ve decided I would now like to go by ‘Alice’ instead of ‘Jim’”- might take a little adjustment, but if it seems particularly important to their newly announced self-assignation, I am happy to comply. For some reason it seems less capricious than the pronouns which are sometimes foisted on me, though: the “My pronouns are now ‘they/them’…” sounds more like an arbitrary command than a request to me -like there’s no gender preference change, just a concern that they longer wish be imprisoned by a ‘he/she’ dichotomy.

I don’t really know why it bothers me, although as a sometime writer, it can complicate simple assertions about someone I am attempting to describe. Usually, I take it as a challenge and either avoid the problem altogether, or figure out ways to make ‘them’ seem like a natural, non-contrived way of characterizing the person. Still, I sometimes wonder if I am capitulating too easily. Might it not be better if I accepted their adopted gender, if that was their concern, from the start and described them using the gender pronouns in which they now feel comfortable? Of course, I could be criticized if they identify as ‘bi’, or don’t want to be slotted into a restrictive and outdated societal group. And yet, using purposely vague assignations like ‘they/them’ surely also places them in yet another cultural compartment doesn’t it? I think it still misses the point they are trying to make.

But, I am old now, and as I have already implied, my increasing age can be a complicated time; there are so many changes to consider without getting mixed up, or rejecting them outright. If someone wishes to change their (see, I can still do it, eh?) sexual preferences, or for that matter reject the idea that ‘he’ or ‘she’ unduly confines them in a group to which they have not acquiesced -or that it is important not to assume something about their preferred gender identification that I could not possibly know without their permission… I’m trying to be okay with that.

Of course, maybe it has nothing to do with gender, and nothing to do with outdated categories. Maybe it’s just a choice of words… Well, so be it. I can only try to keep up as best I can, and hope that Ageism softens my trespass.

I have no idea what my pronouns should be, though -in the autumn of my life, I don’t think they really matter; I don’t think any of them still apply to me anymore…

[i] https://psyche.co/ideas/the-curious-paradox-in-how-we-address-each-other-today?

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gozzter

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