Gendered Grammar

Words & Illustration by: Sharwin Falevich

From what I hear, people like me who live in Russia are in line for the gallows. We are widely discriminated against, tortured, killed, and hate-crimed in most places around the world. As a queer trans man, New York does provide me with protection that I would never receive in Russia, and the relative freedom to present the way I want in public. For this reason, I often feel privileged to be a first generation American. At the same time however, when my parents emigrated from Russia they packed their Russian traditions with them – traditions which are more similar to American ones than we might think. Indeed, both find common ground in heteronormative ideals of the patriarchal nuclear family. 

I am a much different person at Pratt, and identifying as a queer trans man, I've hidden  most of myself when present under my family's roof.  During high school, my life outside of class provided me with the freedom to develop more progressive values, and further explore my queer identity. Since these self-discoveries were not welcome in my own home, I therefore ended up spending most of my time avoiding the company of my relatives. I grew up to be very progressive  compared to them, and separate from their ideologies. 

Before I came out as a trans man, friends at school were aware I had a girlfriend. Teachers were indifferent, yet  at home what my father told my family and I was: “В этой семье я не разрешаю никому быть геем. (I’m  not allowing anyone in this family to be gay).” Since it was made clear that I wouldn’t be able to live freely under his roof, I dwelled in my room when at home, and prolonged my outings when I could - outings where I also mainly spoke English.  

In high school, I came to understand myself  as trans. and attended a month-long summer pre-college camp that allowed me to test the boundaries I promised my family I wouldn’t cross. Before I knew myself to be trans, I  received plenty of second glances from relatives asking me questions like: 

(Mama after she found out about me being gay): “Только ты не выдумывай что ты  мальчик! (Only don’t you start pretending you’re a boy!)” 

Babushka when I told her I was gay: “Оьещай мне что ты не думаешь что ты мальчик.  (Promise me you don’t think of yourself as a boy.)” 

I walked away saying иет (no), but that sort of thing just followed me. I told myself I  wasn’t, but with enough pondering I realized maybe I was. Most of my family  knew I was gay at the time. Some of my relatives came to me with their suspicions and I told them the truth. My holy Soviet father however knows nothing of my  sexual orientation or gender identity. At least I have never told him, since in Russian, I  probably wouldn’t even  know how to! 

English is a particularly non-binary friendly language.  It doesn’t  scrape gendered grammar over your spine like a whip the way Russian does. Under my family’s roof, мне нужна  спрятаться когда моя семья кричат моё прежде имя. (I need to hide [written with feminine grammer] myself when my family yells my deadname.) and the misgendering rolls off the tips tongues as if it were a game of tag. For my mother and babushka, it's “playing house” until my “phase” goes away. It’s she/her/hers (Оиа, её, моя) when hoping one day they’ll say he/him/his (Ои, его, мой, свой). I distinctly use male-gendered pronouns to describe myself when speaking Russian, and the family members who know me repeat what I say with the grammar that disregards my gender identity. 

In a conservative household like mine it’s ultimately what’s  between your legs that matters—it’s the  only thing that matters. And as someone with my politics, I always find the thought  extremely shallow, unnerving, and just plain ridiculous. And yet, with their strict gendered grammar, many conservative Russians struggle to see beyond the gender binary. Most are riding their penny farthings in circles inside a miniature cardboard box that has the label: “Будь проще! и люди к  тебе потянуться.” (Be simpler! and people will come to you.) And I understand that since my family grew up around these ideas, it is hard for them to understand me or even what some of the more progressive ideals American culture has to offer. It’s a bitter spoonful they don’t know how to  swallow. It’s unnatural to them, as their culture is unnatural to me. 

Mama: “почему всё не может быть просто.” (Why can’t everything be easier?) Me: "The world is complex, and that's what makes it beautiful!" 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Russian language; I think it’s as wonderful as any other  tongue in the world, and I  love knowing two languages. Yet a gendered tongue has teeth when you're  transgender. I’m constantly getting chewed on by my family, and then I’m spit into that soup of  Russian ideology. They speak to me with feminine expectations, and they've probably dreamt of a future they will never come to have with me. My relatives' expectations have been let down; I  understand. When I told my mom, "I'm sorry, but this is how I feel, and I'd rather be your son." Mama: “Я не понимаю.” (I don’t understand.) 

Being at Pratt, where everyone can speak English, that pain melts away—I’m not  constantly fighting anyone or feeling guilty about my own feelings. I have a community of people  that don't recognize me as a girl or a woman, because I can simply tell them I am not one. At Pratt, my peers understand that one cannot assume gender based on appearance, and that the relationship between these two is extremely complex. This openness is further facilitated by the fact that English allows us to use gender neutral verbs and adjectives. Language is ultimately a system, one that is collectively constructed by a given group through the ascribing of meaning to signs and sounds. Language is malleable, it is culturally and historically determined. In other words, it is what you make it. Therefore, who’s to say that one day Russian won’t have a grammar that is, finally, not so gendered?