Aditya Khanna

The class “Remaking Masculinity” has made me conscious of how I have altered parts of my identity to conform to masculine stereotypes. The idea of the construction of gender and the widespread conformity to gender molds has made me reflect deeply on how I have suppressed my individuality in an attempt to be accepted. Like Frank Wheeler, the protagonist in Richard Yates' Revolutionary Road, I lost part of my self-identity to fit my internalized definition of a boy and be accepted by my peers and society, permanently mutilating my individualism. The widely accepted concept that we must suppress parts of our natural selves to fit constructed gender identities to belong and succeed in society is wholly manufactured and groundless. It is the main contributor to the endless cycle of societal pressures to modify ourselves to be "real men" or "proper women." 

When I was in lower school, I wore skinny jeans every day. I loved the close fit that prevented my pants from sliding down while dunking on my friends at every doorway. I adored the comfortable stretch that allowed me to dance freely at lunch with no limit on my range of motion. I wore skinny jeans every day during 4th grade, and I was sure that skinny jeans would fill my wardrobe for years. That was, until 5th grade. I vividly remember being eager to start middle school at my all-boys school. On my first day of 5th grade, I arrived thinking, "I am finally a big kid!" The night before, I eagerly set out a pair of skinny jeans and my favorite pastel-colored Vineyard Vines polo shirt. I curled onto my bed and impatiently shut my eyes, wishing the morning would magically appear. Finally, after eight long hours, I strolled to school with a broad smile, eager to redeem the perks of being a middle schooler and enthusiastically understand and participate in mature society as a venerable tween. However, I quickly learned that middle school was a disparate universe compared to the lower school. 

Over the next few months, I learned that many things we did in lower school were now considered taboo. Initially, I was abrasive to this new reality and freedom that felt more like a restrictive prison; however, as I witnessed my friend's "passions" drastically shift and experienced painful ostracization, I had no choice but to adapt. Alone, I fondly reminisced about our lower school years. We self-consciously played knockout with the 8th graders, making sure our form and passing were impeccable as we listened to hardcore rap with ear-pounding 808s and a plethora of words I didn't even know existed. I ached for the free-spirited lunches when we would express our improvised dance moves to Katy Perry without fear of how we were being perceived. However, the pain of my loneliness outweighed the fondness of my memories and forced my memories aside. I felt I needed to regulate my emotions and reconstruct my identity. The kids who once loved skinny jeans just as much as I started pointing and laughing at me, labeling my jeans "gay." My high-pitched voice made me "sound like a pussy." When my eyes began to cloud with cold, blue tears, my classmates broke into hysteria, "What? 5th graders don't cry," they giggled. Crying, hugging, and expressing raw emotion were experiences reserved for younger children who did not have to prepare to face the harsh realities of life; they became extinct emotions once a boy made his passage to a teen. 

I walked home from school in a state of rage and targeted my 7+ pairs of skinny jeans in retaliatory anger, using my 90-pound body and strength to attempt to rip them apart. I swiftly opened my laptop, hastily ordering five pairs of khakis and several Nike/Adidas hoodies on Amazon Prime for the Next Day Delivery; I never wanted to feel that isolated again. I willingly suppressed elements of my authentic unconscious identity to avoid feeling alone and be more accepted by my classmates. This was the start of a series of reforms to my identity; my hair, clothes, vocabulary, and expression level would drastically change in the coming years. These reformations led to a personality shift that many people consider "growing up"; however, looking back, I consider it the point when I killed my individualism in favor of being like the other 73,712,974 million boys in America. 

Reading about how Frank reconstructs his self-identity in Revolutionary Road to fulfill his internalized definition of a man resonated with me. Every human has unique individual identities and character traits, and like Frank, most people do not fit perfectly into century-old molds of gender identity. Frank attempts to overcompensate for his lack of predefined masculine characteristics by exaggerating other masculine qualities. He envies his father's traditional masculinity and is insecure in his own "strength" and "sureness" (37), which leads him to search for reassurance of his masculinity from other sources, such as playing up his intellectuality and hiding behind an air of superiority. This performative alteration of one's identity can have catastrophic consequences; Frank completely loses his individualism and tries to find comfort in an ingenuine world of performance. As a result, he lacks a connection and understanding of himself and those dear to him. The novel demonstrates how hard it is to embrace yourself, your identity, and the world around you if you constantly live in a world of performance and acting. 

In "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory," Judith Butler argues that gendered roles cause humans to have unstable and incomplete identities. For example, the French philosopher Simone de Beauvoir claims, "one is not born, but, rather, becomes a woman." Similarly, in her essay, Judith Butler presents gender as a "performative accomplishment…the stylized repetition of acts through time" and argues that it is not a "seemingly seamless identity." Yet, so many people subscribe to the idea that we must reconstruct our identities and put on an "act" of performances to avoid the "punitive consequences" towards those who fail to perform their gender correctly. Failure to concede to your gender norms leads to humiliation and ostracization because society has conditioned itself to accept and identify with pre-molded gender roles. Yet relying on these archetypes of gender can severely affect a person's individuality and happiness.

I am slowly becoming aware that, like Frank Wheeler, many people put on an act to compensate for their insecurities. People inherently crave a sense of belonging, and it is challenging to maintain their individuality when so many people define their identity to prescribed gender definitions. For many, a sense of belonging and a sense of place often equates to being a part of the majority. As a result, society conditions us to filter genuine emotion in an attempt to be viewed favorably by others. Internalized messages that we must fit these constraining definitions of gender are instilled in America's youth, creating an endless cycle of self-destruction. Throughout history, members of the LGBTQ+ community have been coerced into hiding their true identities only to end up hurting themselves or those they deceive. Heterosexual cis women who wanted to engage in more traditionally masculine pursuits were prevented from or at least heavily penalized for doing so. One person alone can not shift or change this systemic cycle of suppression. For this reason, we must create awareness and collectively discard these narrow definitions in favor of fluid, open, and acceptable forms of expression to reestablish human individuality. 

Writing this essay made me wonder how different my hobbies, happiness, attitude, and relationship with my gender would be if I hadn't succumbed to the pressures of ludicrous gender roles. To this day, I still find a natural joy in dancing that cannot be replicated with my newly acquired hobbies of playing basketball and video games. However, because I have suppressed the expressive part of myself for so long, I find it hard to dance freely in a non-male-coded manner. I am no longer comfortable kicking my leg and doing spins; subtle hip-hop moves and hand gestures have replaced those. I might have been more passionate about some of my pursuits if I had done them for genuine reasons instead of in an attempt to be accepted. I might have been a dancer, actor, or singer if I had followed my natural passions. I would have a better understanding and connection to my emotions if I had stayed true to my desires and not suppressed parts of my authentic self. Every human has a unique personality and beliefs. Dismantling and discarding gender definitions and roles is essential to renew our freedom and respect for individualism.