“Are you a boy or a girl?”

Letterpress printed linocut. Signed & numbered limited edition of 150. 

Image area 3.75" x 6" printed on 5.5" x 8.5" acid free Mohawk Via paper.

Completed February 2017.

About the print

Throughout my life I have danced through gender norms. As a child I unwittingly defied then. Only until recently have I begun to deliberately explore and embrace this fluidity as a gender nonconforming adult female. As an infant I was indistinguishable from my twin brother until my hair was grown long and I (and those around me) obsessed over makeup, pink bows, and Barbie dolls. Preadolescence coincided with my identity as a tomboy. I was athletic, played competitive sports, climbed trees, collected knives, and began to shun female characteristics. I cut my hair short and began shopping in the boy’s clothing section. I also began to experience anxiety whenever it was expected of me to dress and exude femaleness. I feared puberty and prayed constantly that I wouldn’t grow breasts. It was at this time that I was again at times indistinguishable from my brother. Strangers, both children and adults, would often ask me, “Are you a boy or a girl?”

This first print in the series documents this very question that was bellowed by strange men from a moving car as I was running an errand for work on foot. This wasn’t the first time I had received this question, but it was the first time it was shouted at me, in a busy public place with the intention to shame me. I didn’t know these men, and they did not linger for an answer. I briefly glowered at the car and kept walking as my cheeks turned red, wanting but terrified to offer an indignant retort.

In the minds of others, perceived “otherness” grants them the assumed authority to know and distinguish my deviations from an acceptable norm. I am a curious specimen, an anomaly that must be analyzed and assigned an empirical classification so that I can be neatly indexed. To rationalize my existence using a logical, calculable equation so that others of my kind may be more easily identifiable.

As if my appearance, hairstyle, mannerisms, and dress could be easily defined by simple categorization. As if by appearing “other” I have given up my right to privacy and dignity. I am not yours to codify; I am my own person. I am dignified. I simply am. Let me be.

About the Tomboy series

The Tomboy series addresses a lifetime of being perceived as "other" in a society entitled to the comfort of easily identifiable categories. Strangers assume the authority to pose personal questions, casually bypassing autonomy and privacy in order to satisfy their own intrusive curiosity. Because at a glance I cannot be easily identified as a male or female by some, others assert that I have given up my right to privacy because of my perceived dubious deception.

This intrusion is tied to suspicions of gender, sexuality, personality, and personal history that are suspected to deviate from an assumed acceptable binary/cis-hetero convention. Even seemingly well-meaning comments made by friends and loved ones echo a desire to control by claiming personal preferences, thereby placing restrictions on acceptable gender norms concerning appearance, language, confidence, mannerisms, and even occupation.

This ongoing series documents phrases I have collected from my interactions with strangers, coworkers, colleagues, family, friends, and loved ones. The phrases are paired with self-portraits that serve to illustrate or challenge these indelible and oftentimes upsetting, intrusive confrontations.

This image is copyright 2017 Mary Louise Sullivan. Purchase of this print does not transfer any rights to the image. This image may not be reused or reproduced in any way whatsoever.