The Consequences of Conflating Trans-ness and Vulnerability

Abstract

Since the 1990s, activists, scholars, and the media have mutually reinforced the idea that trans people face an epidemic of violence. While effective in amplifying visibility, this one-dimensional portrait reduces trans people—particularly trans women of color—to the role of victim, defined only by their vulnerability to violence. In Unlivable Lives: Violence and Identity in Transgender Activism, sociologist Laurel Westbrook explores how we arrived at this particular framework. Using an archive of over one thousand documents from the years 1990 to 2019, Westbrook analyzes the rhetorical and political strategies of thirteen national organizations working to reduce violence against trans people in the United States. Empirically, Westbrook studies the impact of combining antiviolence work and trans identity politics. Politically, they hope to reduce the violence trans people experience, arguing that current strategies do not adequately explain this ongoing violence, do not accurately represent trans lives and do not offer appropriate solutions.In Unlivable Lives, Westbrook constructs an original and timely genealogy of trans subjectivity. Most scholars explain the emergence of the category transgender vis-à-vis the medicalization of transsexuality, noting how medical regulations structure trans people's access to resources and reinforce perceived boundaries around trans identities. Westbrook, meanwhile, argues that “transgender became a visible category of personhood through narratives of violence against transgender people” (130). When antiviolence activists constantly invoke the specter of trans death, they raise the visibility of trans people in the public sphere but also construct them as “always, already vulnerable to violence” (26). These associations between trans people and violence are exacerbated by the decision to focus on homicides and more extreme cases, as well as the distortion of statistics and misleading claims (such as trans women of color having a life expectancy of only thirty-five). The marketplace of social problems, Westbrook continues, compels activists to present trans people as “the most vulnerable” to compete for limited attention and resources (90). People of all genders internalize these meanings. As a nonbinary person, for example, I avoided the label “transgender” for years because I thought being trans meant you had to experience violence. Unlivable Lives has not only helped me understand my own experience but offers trans scholars a new epistemic framework to interpret trans history, politics, aesthetics, and subjectivities.This conflation of trans-ness and vulnerability has direct social and political consequences that should also resonate with nonacademic audiences, including activists, trans people, and anyone concerned about the livability of trans lives. In fact, Westbrook has done an excellent job integrating poststructural theory, cultural sociology, the social movements literature, and archival data to make the case that language matters. More specifically, they show that how we understand violence against trans people can transform the antiviolence movement. Westbrook transports the reader to Trans Day of Remembrance vigils and shows us the countless press releases arguing that perpetrators target victims because they are trans. This message, linking death to antitrans prejudice, has circulated so widely that it appears a natural, inevitable conclusion.The problem with such explanations, Westbrook counters, is that they elide the complexity of trans lives; they overrule other identity-based explanations (i.e., sexism and racism) and overlook structural vulnerabilities (i.e., poverty, employment discrimination, and the criminalization of sex work). Emphasizing trans identity to the exclusion of these other explanations, they argue, has resulted in hate crimes legislation that does little to improve the livability of trans lives, while inadvertently leaving trans people “with constant fear and without hope for stopping the violence” (120). Westbrook urges the reader to consider alternate perspectives and to imagine new ways of addressing violence against trans people. Unlivable Lives is a call to action.The methodological strength of the text—which centers on a cohort of national trans organizations, selected for their ability to shape law and public opinion—also functions as a limitation. As I read, I found myself ticking off the names of active grassroots organizations that diverge from Westbrook's sample. These groups, (1) focus on other explanations for violence, (2) build coalitions with other communities, and (3) resignify the practice of identity politics, which is to say that they organize around specific identities, while advocating for more capacious solutions to violence. For example, No Justice No Pride in DC provides housing for trans women of color and organizes to decriminalize sex work. The Black Trans Travel Fund in New York, meanwhile, helps Black trans women navigate the city more safely. This is not a criticism of Westbrook, as Unlivable Lives never promises an analysis of grassroots organizations, nor can a single text answer every question. However, due to the methodological scope, we cannot discount the mixture of identity politics and antiviolence work, as Westbrook seems to argue in the final chapter. Future research might compare grassroots and national organizations; by analyzing these hybrid approaches that combine identity politics with other strategies, scholars could make more definitive claims about social movements.Unlivable Lives makes an invaluable intervention in how academics and activists discuss trans people and organize against violence. Its rich data and recommendations will speak to many audiences and hopefully generate necessary dialogue across groups. In addition to studying grassroots organizations, future work might consider how the nationalization of trans politics and the nonprofit industrial complex shape antiviolence movements. Scholars might also consider how the logics and practices of (neo)liberalism reinforce identity politics, discouraging structural solutions that challenge the status quo. Critical fields such as post/decolonial studies question the meaning of “livability” and the appeal to liberal institutions (i.e., the state) to address violence. Through this lens, how might the pursuit of justice for some reinforce the oppression of others? And how might transnational organizing transform both identity politics and antiviolence work?