Work: A Sort of Conclusion
Tomorrow will presumable be the last day at this workplace I have been at for about a month now.
In the beginning I was frequently pissed off at some of the responses I got from co-workers about my gender identity and their doubts associated with my identity, my beliefs.
But I’ve gotten used to them, their voices and mannerisms and I am more inclined to understand their attitudes.
They still question me when it comes to the gender binary, as they are so entrenched in this system, that they see no other. In addition, I doubt that they are interested in seeing another way of being, because the current social world suits them quite well. They are able to live comfortably in this world and even to profit from social rules and constructs. They are cis and happy with their lot.
I will miss the discussions we had, when emotions flared up and time went much faster than when it was quiet and everyone was serious. I will miss being able to explain myself and having someone listen and confront their own ideas. I will miss being in a group, and yet not belonging there, being able to mix with both men and women and sometimes being alone, being somewhat outside the rules.
We do tend to get along at work, after all, though it’s a strange relationship between all these different people from different age groups, countries, and backgrounds. Partly we work well together, because we have to, and partly because we all (as far as I can tell) are curious to know about other people and to learn about new things.
I am happy that I have been able to meet these people and talk about my ideas and feelings, to have an outlet for my emotions and philosophies. I hope in the new job (if I get it; it’s not 100% certain) I will be lucky and meet people who are, at heart, good people, who have good intentions and don’t only argue for the sake of it, who aren’t just shallow drones of the capitalist economy, who are capable of thinking for themselves.
Eventhough once again I was asked which gender I would ultimately choose, and I politely had to decline the choice of any gender, I am happy that this and other questions were asked. It’s like as if I was the colour orange and came into a world where only red and blue existed: Both red and blue would ask me which colour I am, as they could only see the colours red and blue. They couldn’t see my orange colour, my identity would be hidden to their naked eyes. I would have to keep responding that I am orange, eventhough they might still not understand this, because orange would not exist in their world.
As long as I don’t start to forget who I am, I will still have a certain amount of tranquility and freedom of being, of satisfaction.