As a writer myself, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the identities of my characters. What makes an identity? What defines their life story, who they are, and how they got there? It seems like a pretty simple question: you sit down and you make up this life, this person, and then you figure out the rest later, but really that’s not so — especially when it comes to trans characters.
There’s an issue plaguing modern fiction. There’s an issue plaguing television, film, and video games. This issue?
The commercialization of trans lives.
It’s not a small topic. It’s something that expands beyond our means, and beyond what I can write about in a short article — it’s the fantasy of having a trans person in the background of your story, a best friend who has an arching storyline of “Nobody sees me for who I am! Nobody supports me!” (see Max Sweeney in The L Word), or of “I don’t fit in! I must be trans!” (see Sheldon in Glee). Of course, there are success stories too, especially in more recent media: Jules in Euphoria was one of the first younger trans characters played by a trans actor who rose in popularity through the story, and the many characters in POSE represent an important part of transgender history that is often overlooked.
But there’s a common thread there, too; the majority of the time, this is queer media marketed to queer audiences. Euphoria, for example, despite its boom in popularity, was widely accepted by and marketed towards the younger generation of queer people who could see themselves in the relationships between Jules and Rue, or trans people who could find solace in the acceptance and struggles Jules has throughout the series.
So few of these success stories of trans characters involve these characters as not a sob story sub-plot-line, but as a person, a human being who is not something new or unheard of, but is who they are without need for explanation. Still, even the poor representation of trans people in the media has led to rising rates of transgender acceptance and understanding. Is this the price to pay for any representation at all? I believe that’s not the case: as years go on, more and more trans people are shown in all forms of commercialization, from books to advertisements, and with that comes a rising amount of proper representation.
We, as viewers, have to hold creators accountable and have to point out the flaws when they are present as well as supporting the successes when they are publicized. According to GLAAD, 20% of Americans reported knowing someone who was trans, and that’s only by reports of people who are aware of the trans identities of their co-workers, friends, and family; in reality, that number continues to grow and is likely much higher from our day-to-day interactions with people who aren’t as open about their identities, but still exist.