Her reply was, ‘Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.’ĭawson alternates between snapshots of her life – from growing up in Bingley, West Yorkshire, to being ‘a right pair of little cunts’ with a friend at school, to coming out as a gay man, to being a primary school teacher, to deciding to transition and the process of that so far – and discussions around gender theory.
On 6 August 2015, I told my mother that I was a woman. Any creative writing teacher worth their salt will tell you that a great story never starts at the beginning, it starts when something changes. Once upon a time there was a little girl.Īlso no. The book begins with a reimagining of the day Dawson’s mother went into labour. Dawson interweaves all three of these aspects to discuss her transition from cis male to trans woman, considering the effect her transition has had (and is still having) on herself and her family. The Gender Games then is part-memoir, part-gender theory, part-cultural critique. Not only do I agree with this, I love that Dawson gives gender a male pronoun and the connotations which come with this. Like a group of horny teenagers with a Ouija board, Gender was summoned into being by us. Gender, despite anything he might tell us to the contrary, is nothing but characteristics we have assigned to the sexes. If you take that away from this book, even better. Gender, as convincing as he is, is full of shit. If that’s all you take away from this book, I’ve won.
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