The Cis Gaze
How Trans People Are Viewed Through Cis Expectations
My transition has changed the way I’ve been perceived by others, and how I present myself to others etc. However, in order for others — particularly cis people — to understand those changes in context requires additional background. So, in order to lay the groundwork for a discussion of the changes I’ve experienced as a result of my transition, I’m going to go over a couple different concepts related to how society perceives women and trans people . These concepts are the “male gaze” and the “cis gaze.” Both of these concepts together form the foundation of a significant number of the changes I’ve experienced.
The concept of the “male gaze” first arose in feminist approaches to the visual arts and literature. In essence, the “male gaze” refers to the ways in which the world and women are presented in such a way as to make them appear as if they exist for consumption by, and the pleasure of, men.
Over time, this system of representation has been ingrained in our culture and society such that it is often seen as normal and natural that things are this way. In this way, it supports a hierarchy in which masculinity is placed above femininity. Feeding into other systems, and through its consumptive perspective, the male gaze works to make masculinity appear natural, while femininity is made to appear artificial and contrived.
The impact of the male gaze on women has been such that women are often prompted, if not required, to take up its perspective in order to engage with the visual arts and literature. However, its impact is not limited to the visual arts and literature because its operation is not limited to the visual arts and literature. The male gaze’s existence crosses over into society as a whole. As such, women are required on a daily basis to take up the male gaze.
This state of affairs is evident in the bare existence of statements made by sexual assault apologists concerning whether female victims were “asking for it” based on the clothes they were wearing when they were assaulted. The idea that a woman’s clothing choices can be construed as “asking” to be assaulted requires that female bodies be viewed as existing for the consumption of others, and that certain displays of femininity be viewed as artificially constructed for the benefit or enticement of others.
As a result, women are often forced to think about the way they present themselves in a much more careful manner than men. Where a man can throw on comfortable clothes and go to the grocery store without incident, a woman doing the same thing could find herself the subject of leering, inappropriate comments, and unwanted advances if her comfortable clothes are seen as revealing or titillating by others.
While society has progressed to a point that men can also be perceived as erotic entities based on their bodies and the way that they dress — in other words, they can be objectified — there remains a systematic difference between the way men and women are perceived and represented when objectified. While men are almost always construed as “powerful” and “dominant” when viewed as objects of desire, women are almost always construed as “weak” and “submissive.” This perpetuates the idea that a man’s body and clothing exists for himself, whereas a woman’s body and clothing exists for others.
The male gaze isn’t only directed at cis women. It applies to all those who are read as female in society, and as such it has a wide ranging impact on trans people as well.
I, as someone who until last year was presenting as male at all times, have had to adapt to the fact that I am now — on occasion — the subject of the male gaze. As I have been more and more consistently read as female by others, I have had a variety of experiences I hadn’t had before. For example, I’ve experience people “checking me out,” and have caught people looking at my (modest) bust. I have also been catcalled while walking to my car, etc. Being catcalled in particular has been eye opening. I always thought catcalling was rude, coarse, and creepy, but I had never felt how frightening it could be to be catcalled by a stranger when walking on the street alone.
Additionally, while I have always had issues with the explicit objectification of women in the media (in Maxim, and other “men’s magazines,” for example), I find that I am now more consistently noticing the moments in which women are implicitly objectified in the media. I started calling myself a feminist over a decade ago but I have definitely learned a lot more about what it means to be perceived as a woman in our culture as a result of my transition. Not everything, by any means, but more.
However, even the negative experiences I have had as a result of being a subject of the male gaze have been accompanied by a weird sense of validation. This is because in those moments, I am not an active target of the “cis gaze.”
Before getting into what I mean by “cis gaze” I should note that this term isn’t new. When it came to me that there was a connection between the male gaze, and the way trans people are viewed by cis people, I was honestly surprised I’d never heard the term “cis gaze” before. As a result, I felt very clever for a bit there — until, that is, I googled it to make sure I was justified in feeling clever. At which point, I found out that Sophia Banks, a trans photographer, first brought the phrase to the internet in a tweet on March 22nd, 2014.
Following her tweet, the hashtag #CisGaze had a good run throughout 2014 and into 2015 on Twitter, with people sharing their ideas about the cis gaze and what it meant to them. However, it seems the conversation around #CisGaze fizzled out in 2015. Only seven tweets in 2016 carried the hashtag, and so far there have only been three in 2017. It seems to me this is because there wasn’t a clear consensus on what “cis gaze” meant. Each participant in the conversation seemed to bring their own interpretation to the table, which made it hard to sustain meaningful conversation about it.
The thing is, the definition of the “cis gaze” can be inferred based on the definition of “male gaze.” Simply substituting concepts related to “women” with concepts related to “trans people” is all that is necessary. Beware, prose déjà vu incoming…
The “cis gaze” refers to the ways in which the world and trans people are presented in such a way as to make them appear as if they exist for scrutiny by, and the entertainment of, cis people. Over time, this system of representation has been ingrained in our culture and society such that it is often seen as normal and natural that things are this way. In this way, it supports a hierarchy in which cis people are placed above trans people. Feeding into other systems, and through its critical perspective, the cis gaze works to make cis people appear natural, while trans people appear artificial and contrived.
The impact of the cis gaze on trans people has been such that trans people are often prompted, if not required, to take up its perspective in order to engage with the visual arts and literature. However, its impact is not limited to the visual arts and literature because its operation is not limited to the visual arts and literature. The cis gaze’s existence crosses over into society as a whole. As such, trans people are required on a daily basis to take up the cis gaze.
This state of affairs is evident in the two main modes of representation trans people have in the media. The first, as a joke, is seen any time a cis person or character is shown wearing clothing or behaving in a way that others perceive as incongruent with their sex in order to “get a laugh.” In recent media, this is exemplified by Jimmy Fallon’s teenage “eww” girl impression, as well as the “Nina & Lance” skits on Portlandia. The second mode of representation, as a “pathetic” person, usually comes in the form of a trans character, almost always portrayed by a cis person, trying and failing to appear as the gender they identify as. The idea that someone wearing clothing, or exhibiting behaviors that others perceive as incongruent with their sex is a “joke” or “pathetic” crosses over into our day-to-day lives and requires that trans people be viewed as existing for the entertainment, scrutiny, or pity of others, and that trans people are viewed as inherently less natural and good than cis people.
As a result, trans people are often forced to think about the way they present themselves in a much more careful manner than cis people — even cis women. Where most cis people can throw on their favorite clothes and go to the grocery store without fear of being attacked, a trans person doing the same thing could find themselves the subject of jeering, inappropriate comments, and physical attacks if their favorite clothes are seen by others as unnatural or incongruent with their bodies.
While cis bodies and expressions of gender are almost always construed as “natural” and “effortless,” trans bodies and expressions of gender are almost always construed as “artificial” and “contrived.” Even people perceived as cis women, who are viewed as artificial and contrived compared to those perceived as cis men, are viewed as “natural” when compared to those who are perceived to be trans. This perpetuates the idea that a cis person’s body and gender exists without question, whereas a trans person’s body and gender exists to be scrutinized, laughed at, or pitied.
For some trans people, the cis gaze never goes away — either because circumstance makes it difficult to appear cis, or because it is not important to them and they choose not to do the things that would make them appear cis. However, even for trans people who are read as cis members of their gender, the cis gaze is always there, waiting for a “slip up,” or for the trans person to be outed (either by choice or by someone else). The cis gaze’s existence thus forces trans people to take up its perspective, because to not do so is to leave yourself vulnerable. It requires trans people to think about how to justify themselves to cis people, how to present themselves to cis people, etc. And, just like the male gaze, the cis gaze is often internalized by those it targets.
The male gaze and the cis gaze share other traits. For example, being the target of either one is involuntary. You cannot opt into or out of being targeted by these gazes. Refusing to engage with either gaze, and comporting yourself as you see fit doesn’t prevent you from being targeted. Working to subvert the system by modifying your behavior and presentation to serve as a counterpoint doesn’t prevent you from being targeted. At best, such responses serve to take back a bit of the power in the relationship, and empower those being targeted. They do not prevent the gazes’ oppressive effects from acting in society.
This is because like many other oppressive systems, the male gaze and cis gaze are systematically embedded in society, and mitigating their effects thus requires systematic opposition. In other words, it requires more than just a handful of people working to oppose them in order for anything significant to change.
Where the male gaze is one of the primary driving components of traditional sexism, the cis gaze is one of the primary driving components of cissexism — the belief that cisgender people and perspectives are inherently better, more natural, and “right” than trans people.
Like the male gaze, listing off all the places the cis gaze pops up or acts to oppress trans people would take an absurdly long time. However, it is present every time trans people are depicted getting dressed or putting on makeup; every time a trans person is praised for meeting cis standards of beauty; every time someone makes the comment, “I never would have thought you weren’t a real man/woman;” every time a crime drama only depicts trans characters as sex workers; every time trans people are depicted as deceptive or predatory but never successful or honest; and every time trans people are referred to with the wrong pronouns or name on purpose.
Understanding trans people, our decisions regarding how we present ourselves, whether we are o.k. with people who aren’t our friends or family knowing that we are trans, how we choose to label ourselves, why we might find other oppressive forces like the male gaze weirdly affirming etc. requires that you first work to understand how the cis gaze acts on trans people. Simply being supportive is not enough. Simply watching a documentary on trans people is not enough. Simply expressing an appreciation for a trans celebrity is not enough. Simply saying “you can pee next to me” is not enough. This is because chances are even your support is shaped by the cis gaze.
And let me be clear, the cis gaze — like other forms of oppression — isn’t something you can just stop engaging in. I fight my own internalization of the cis gaze on a daily basis when I look in the mirror, when I reflect on my choices, when I think about how others view me, when I interact with other trans people, etc. It doesn’t just go away when you recognize it. It requires consistent self reflection and a commitment to changing your own behavior. If someone really wants to understand and support trans people, they need to start with this self reflection and commitment to changing their own behavior.
