Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Being in Liminal Space Within Your Community

What is culture? It feels like this would be an easy word to explain but when I actually sit down and try to put a definition to it, suddenly I struggle to find the right way to explain it. Even the Merrian-Webster dictionary can’t put its finger on it, providing up to ten ways to try and define the noun “culture”. The trouble is that culture doesn’t really have a singular definition. It is a whole mixed bag of things like beliefs, language, social traits, race, attitudes, values, clothing, and the list goes on. No matter what the descriptor we use, the important piece of any definition of culture is that it is anything that express a collective experience. For example, a group of people wearing kilts would be in culturally appropriate dress for being from Scotland or having Scottish background. Or a group of Trekkies would consider themselves geeks and center their culture around Star Trek.

Ultimately, culture is linked to identity. Both culture and identity are social constructs, ways of grouping people together in relation to others, “constructed in community, not autonomously, and that a person’s unique sense of individuality is derivative of his or her existence in a given society.”[1] When we consider that cultural identity is formed in relation to others, that is where cultural differences emerge. And where there is difference, there is often conflict.

Canada, as a nation, likes to claim an identity of multiculturalism, often being called a cultural mosaic. In theory, multiculturalism is a good thing because it should be a means to welcoming different people, faster inclusion, social cohesion, and a recognition of diversity. Canada’s supposed tolerance of others is a central pillar of its national identity.[2]

However, many people will attest that, overall, Canada is working against such claims by trying to become a more homogenous country, leaning heavily to an identity of the “ordinary Canadian” – white, English-speaking, heterosexual, middle-classed male. In contrast, everyone else is “special” is some way or another.

Many Canadians, wanting to show their joint ethnicity, may identify as hyphenated peoples such as French-Canadian, German-Canadian, Ukrainian-Canadian, and so on. Others, perhaps not wanting to highlight their “otherness” or perhaps because they have the privilege to do so, will drop the descriptor and simply say they are “Canadian”. A person who is conflicted between being proud of who they are but acknowledging the struggles that come with being anything other than the “ordinary Canadian” ends up in this liminal space of being both accepted and not accepted depending in which space they are in relation to others. Sometimes this liminal space even occurs within their own cultural group with some accepting the person’s choice of identification and others making them feel guilty for not being more obviously proud of their heritage.

This liminal space is often found within the transgender community as well. There is an inherent “otherness” that comes with being transgender. If we are to consider that the “ordinary Canadian” is all the above but also cisgender, then anyone who’s gender identity is anything else would be considered “special” and outside of the Canadian societal norm. Just as with ethnic identities, some transgender folks wear their non-conforming gender identity on their sleeves. While others, whether for safety or any other personal reason, choose to live stealth, not publicly revealing the fact that they are transgender to anyone.

The liminal space occurs because transgender people are both accepted and not accepted in the 2SLGBTQIA+ community as well as the wider world. There is a neither here nor there type of relationship with those around us. For example, I am a white man and can enjoy all the privilege that comes with that identity. However, I am also part of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community because I am transgender. So, while I can enjoy white privilege, I am also at risk of experiencing discrimination for being queer. However, I could choose to hide that part of my identity, thus returning me to a position of privilege but outwardly appearing no longer part of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. I am neither one nor the other but also both.

I similarly experience this liminal space as a transgender priest. I am part of a religious community where I experience both acceptance and rejection for being transgender, and I experience both acceptance and rejection in the transgender community for being a priest.

In reflecting on cultural differences and the inherent “otherness” of being transgender, I believe that there are similarities in the societal concerns that exist with regards to exclusion and oppression in a country that claims to be built on multiculturalism, diversity, and the inclusion of all people. As a country, there have been great strides in bringing forth acceptance and inclusion, but there is still a long way to go for the liminal space to disappear entirely.



[1] Driedger Hesslein, Kayko, “But You Can’t Be Both! – Multiple Loyalties in Theories of Multiculturalism.” In Kayko Driegder Hesslein, Dual Citizenship: Two- Natures Christologies and the Jewish Jesus. Bloomsbury Academic, 2015, p. 33.

[2] Mackey, Eve. “Unsettling Differences: Origins, Methods, Frameworks.” In Eve Mackey, The House of Difference: Cultural Politics and National Identity in Canada. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002, p. 16.

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