From Our Archives: Jess T. Dugan
©Jess Dugan, Erica and Krista, 2012.
This interview was featured in our 12th Issue: Controversy
ANDREA BLANCH: Can we talk about what it means to be gender variant?
JESS DUGAN: Sure. Gender variant is a term by people whose gender identity and expression doesn’t fit the expectations of male or female, or our traditional binary gender system. These identities are used by people who don’t solely identify with either male or female. Also, gender variant applies in some cases to people who are not a part of the trans community; for example, a young boy who has a more feminine side, or someone born female who is more masculine.
AB: What role has your mother played in shaping your feelings of identity and self-acceptance?
JD: I grew up in Little Rock, Arkansas, which affected my childhood in many ways. I was very masculine. I got teased at school. I got chased out of bathrooms. This heavily affected my identity today and the place where my artistic work comes from. My mom was supportive of me from the beginning. When I came home one day from school crying from having been picked on in the bathroom, my mom gave me the choice of either growing my hair out and pleasing the girls at my school, in which case the teasing would stop, or keeping my hair short, keeping my clothes the way I wanted them, and just understanding that if I made that choice, the teasing would continue. I made the second choice and I have always continued to make that choice. Having her treat me with enough dignity to even give me that choice at a young age was really important and validating.
AB: That was very progressive of your mother.
JD: My mom has always been a fighter. She’s also a lesbian. She came out when I was seven. Growing up in Little Rock, Arkansas, it was brave of her.
©Jess Dugan, Self-portrait (muscle shirt), 2013.
AB: In the series with your mother, you are exhibiting your scars from chest reconstruction surgery. What was that experience like, and what made you decide to share it with the world?
JD: I came out as gay at 13. I was pretty young. I had moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts by that time with my mom and, needless to say, that was a better experience than coming out in Little Rock, Arkansas. By the time I was 14 or 15, I was questioning my gender. At the time, I knew people who had transitioned from female to male, but that never really felt like who I was. I went my own way for a while, thinking, “Well, maybe that’s not really my path.” Then I went to a trans conference and I saw a video someone had made as an art piece about their experience accessing chest surgery. I was 16 when I saw that video and, silly as it sounds, I had this total “aha” moment. It had never occurred to me before that you could just pick and choose parts of transition-related procedures. I had only known people who were transitioning all the way, and that was just never really my truth. When I was 17, I decided I definitely wanted chest surgery, and I had my surgery when I was 18. My mom came with me. I think in a way it was hard for her, just watching your child go through surgery is challenging. We flew from Boston to Texas for this surgery. When we got home, I was in this moment where I had this new body and trying to make sense of what was going on. For me, pho- tography has always been the way I make sense of things in my life and figure out how I relate to the world around me. As soon as I got home from Texas, I picked up my camera and made a picture. I originally was going to make a picture of me, then my mom was there, and I asked her to be in the picture with me and we decided to do one topless next to each other. On an intuitive level, I recognized that that moment was really important between us. When I look back on it, I see it a little bit differently. You know, I look very much like my mom. I recognize a lot of myself in her. I was interested in this moment where we started from a similar path but we have made such different decisions about our bodies. Looking back a decade later, I view that photograph as the beginning point of so many things that would continue in my work.
©Jess Dugan, Taan, 2012.
AB: What has the general reaction to your work been?
JD: The reaction varies depending on the audience and the geographic location. Of course, within LGBT com- munities, I’ve generally gotten very positive reactions. Some people find the work moving, and find it an im- portant representation of LGBT communities. I’ve also exhibited it in places that are less friendly. I had a show in Birmingham, Alabama. I’ve shown the work in North Carolina. I’ve shown the work online and had it end up on sites in Russia and other countries. I’ve had some people unwilling to publish or exhibit certain images because of the content. Overall, I hope that all people can connect with it on some level.
AB: Did you not label any of your subjects’ sexes on purpose?
JD: Correct. I’ve always struggled with how much information to give about someone’s specific identity versus how much ambiguity to leave. My work is about something larger than just the trans identity. It’s definitely about something larger than just the body. I’ve always been interested in talking about someone’s internal and psychological identity. I never wanted to reduce my portraits to figuring out who is this and who is that. With the trans work, I’ve always only listed the work by people’s first names. I often leave enough clues or signifiers to understand some things about their gender or their body, but I’ve always heavily resisted pinning too specific an identity on any portrait. It’s too complicated and kind of impos- sible. Many people I photograph, their identities are shifting or are at an earlier point in their transition. How they think about their identity changes. It’s a slippery slope, to try to start labeling everyone. Also, more conceptually, I want viewers first and foremost to engage with them as a human, and for all of the layers about gender and identity to come as a second wave of thought. I’ve had people ask me why I didn’t photograph more surgeries. For a long time in my work, I really pushed back against this more mainstream idea that a trans identity is all about the body and the physicality. I wanted to make a portrait that went beyond the surface and the specific gender, but also included that element.
©Jess Dugan, Betsy on the bed, 2013.
AB: When you were younger you had problems with the bathrooms. Can you talk more about this?
JD: Bathrooms are loaded places for some trans people, especially public restrooms. For some trans people, those spaces can be sites of harassment and violence. I am pretty much guaranteed to have a problem using a public restroom. I use women’s restrooms mostly now. For a period of time, I did try to use men’s rooms because it was easier. Until I say something, I can pass as male. If I walk into a women’s room, there’s a 90 percent chance that I’m going to get looked at or someone’s going to chase after me and tell me I’m in the wrong bathroom. But, while the chance of something happening is higher, the severity of what will happen is lower. Chances are I’m not going to get attacked and I’m not going to get arrested for using the “wrong” bathroom. If I’m in a men’s room, there’s a 90 percent chance that nothing will happen. Men don’t look at each other in bathrooms; my theory is because of homophobia. But if something does happen, the severity is worse. There’s a higher chance for violence. Over the years, I’ve become really proud of being female-bodied and masculine presenting. I feel there’s no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to use a women’s restroom without a problem.
Going back more globally, restrooms are set up on this binary gender system. In the case of women’s rest- room, that’s supposed to be a space that’s free from “men.” Part of that fear comes from violence against women. There are these added layers of why people are afraid of difference in the restrooms. For many trans people it’s a place of anxiety and harassment and fear and sometimes violence, especially for trans women who can’t blend as easily. Trans women definitely face more violence. I have many friends who will never use a public restroom. They’ll drive home to use the bathroom just to prevent having an uncomfortable experi- ence. I’m pretty excited when I see a single stall bathroom or a gender neutral bathroom.
©Jess Dugan, Aiden, 2012.
For more of this interview, check out our 12th Issue: Controversy.
