Gender.

My mother still has no idea what I mean when I reference gender in discussion. I don't think 3/4 of the people I talk to know what I mean by it. When I talk about "gender deviation" or "trans-identity," the impression I get from the pallid stares is that most people are picturing a drag show in their head. And, while that immediate gut reaction is valid and important - as drag is probably the most regular example of gender performance that people can relate to - it is not everything. However, the rhetoric of the gay rights movement probably rests on a better understanding of the spectrum that gender implies.

Transgenderism is a term found within the Ohio Revised Code as an asterik under the phrase sexual orientation, linking the two together under the law. Ohio is actually on the cutting edge of the movement, as the term is even modified to include whether real or perceived. Cincinnati is one of a number of growing municipalities that protect sexual orientation and gender identity/expression. I know, I was little shocked too. Lacking a regular and/or valid LGBT rights organization that could lobby for this kind of coup in the world of Citizens for Community Values, the ordinance relied on the activism of individual lobbying efforts and the support of knowledgeable council members to get it through. But the protection of gender is, ultimately, the lynchpin of the whole movement and could, in fact, be the end of our "community" as we seek to place ourselves more firmly in the mainstream. As we continue to buy into heteronormativity and abandon our amassed experiences and identities, as we seek our own integration, it is gender that will continue to divide us.

My own gender identity and expression is confused. When asked in an online chat room, "r u masc" ("are you masculine?" -- i.e., do you conform to the expected and stereotypical gender roles attributed to "men"), perhaps out of self-delusion, I would answer "yes." As if I was fooling anyone, especially after I would pull up to someone's house with Donna Summer blasting on the radio -- whatever, I was still passing easily. Sure, I dabbled in drag from time to time, but that didn't play into my primary, quotidian gender expression. I thought all the jokes were camp -- done in play.

That is, until i heard myself on the radio and the DJ made the comment: "You sound like a drag queen." Insignificant actions yield huge results in my world. I hung up and, parked in my car outside of Golden Lions watching boys, I listened to the interview.

Oh my god, I sound really gay.

Though the interview was lighthearted, I was sure I had butched it up for the mainstream station. "Overactive pilot light" were the words that came to my mind -- the flame always on. I called my friends to recount this story, and they were more amused by how long it took me to find out than anything else. I went up for a new job a few months later. It's rare you get the opportunity to ask questions of your interviewer -- since this was only the second job I had ever interviewed for and not gotten, and because they were colleagues, I took the opportunity. "You were too... [long pause] enthusiastic." It was the most bullshit cover for "you're too gay" that I had ever heard.

"Mama" is a social identity I've taken on with my friends. It's an honor usually bestowed upon dowagers and drag queens. With me, it was a description of my gender role, and an expression of the safety within the feminine. I knew it was mine, and that it embodied who I was, when Sity Hall called me Mama at the Dock one night. As Mama, I am safe as a sexual being, because it's funny. As me, whose escapades are the stuff of legend, my sexuality became creepy. As Mama, all things are allowed. I became genderqueer to allow my sexuality to be OK, even within this community that theoretically embraces sexual and gender minorities.

As femme, I am sexualized and fetishized within the eyes of the most uber-masculine, hyper-dom's, and I'm not saying I don't play into that sometimes. But the assumption is that I also have to be a bottom (a position I enjoy, but have only done so in the past few years, but not primarily). The pride I have in my body and my sexuality is key to me -- to be stripped of that based on my expression is unfortunate. It's devaluing to the "community," to all of us queens because we are out and proud. We live the life of the revolution, of a fight yet to be one.

When we seek protections for gender identiy and expression, it is not for some theoretical trans-identified person that may or may not be around. Rather, it is a protection against all of us. The movement here, for the most part, has moved beyond the right to have your partner's picture on your desk -- a litmus test which is awful in a "community" that embraces sexual minorities. It's no longer about the right to domestic partner benefits or the right to simply be known as gay. There, we are just tying up loose ends.

It's about personal expression, and the right to personality, even on Craigslist.

Barry blogs regularly at QueerCincinnati.com. Feel free to email him at queercincinnati@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter.