Traveling as a trans person in Japan

Guess whose book I found at a Gender Studies library!

“What is it like traveling as a trans person in Japan?” people have asked me.

I am not necessarily qualified to answer that question, certainly not on behalf of other trans people. It’s complicated, because I don’t necessarily “look like” a trans person. The main vibe I got from people I met in Japan is 5they saw me as primarily a white person—a tourist or English teacher, and secondarily, probably assumed I am a woman. So I can’t comment from experience on what it’s like to be identified as a trans person in the places in Japan where I visited.

Traveling in Japan, I was trying to fit in with my androgynous clothing, covering my arms and legs more than I would in the summer in the US. I wasn’t dressed all that differently from many people I passed in the street or saw on the train. My hair was reasonably short.

I wore a binder, a chest-flattening undergarment, for aikido classes and not otherwise.

I did not receive negative feedback or any comments whatsoever on my gender or gender expression, actually, far less than I sometimes do in the US.

I was accepted as a woman in subtle ways, in aikido classes with mostly or all male students, and in the public bathhouse, or sentō.

This lack of visibility is interesting. It feels safe. If people had called me out for not looking or acting correctly, if they were uncomfortable with me, I would have felt unsafe.

So I appreciate that I was able to have this travel experience in relative comfort and safety.

I leaned on the privilege of being able to travel as a transmasculine person. We tend to be more invisible to society than transfeminine people. My transfeminine friends have shared experiences with me of bullying and harassment that are far worse than I have ever experienced. And I can’t speak to the experience of a transfeminine person traveling in Japan.

I found a Gender Studies Library on the map, at a university in the city where we were staying. I like visiting libraries while traveling, and I had never been to a library in Japan.

The librarian let us in, after filling out a paper form expressing our interest as members of the general public.

The library had two rooms with perhaps 50 bookshelves. Most of the books were written in Japanese, understandably, but they did have some titles in English and other languages.

Most of the books focused on women’s studies, women’s rights, voting, women in the workplace, etc. In the back of the library in a glass case, they had a number of antique classic English language books.

One book I picked up discussed the widespread problem of sexual harassment for women in the Japanese workforce. They shared some statistics like only 10% of managerial positions are held by women in Japan (as of 2008), compared with a much higher percentage in other countries including the US. Women in the US also face a great deal of workplace discrimination and harassment, but it seems even worse in Japan.

The library did have one bookshelf with about four shelves of LGBTQ+ books. Many were about sexuality and being gay. And some were about being transgender.

I immediately recognized Susan Stryker’s Transgender History and Julia Serrano’s Whipping Girl. (Susan Stryker just had a great interview with Tuck Woodstock on the podcast Gender Reveal, check it out!)

I picked up a picture book perhaps intended for kids or young adults. I can’t read Japanese, unfortunately, but I enjoyed and appreciated the illustrations, which I interpreted as showing the differences between gender expression and people’s bodies and how you might question who you are and talk to other people and receive support about what feels right for you.

According to Google translate, this says something about how we may have differences in our gender and sexuality, but it is important to understand, respect, and not hurt each other based on these differences. (Love the penguin-dad reference)

Google translate says these kids are wondering why girls are expected to be good at cooking and boys are not, even though they are both interested and one of their fathers is a chef.

I thought that was really cool how such a book was available to young people who might be questioning who they are or trying to figure that out.

It was a special experience to know that students in Japan have access to these books about being trans. Of course, this information and more is readily available on the Internet. But I feel like there’s a legitimacy and respect that comes from being able to pick up a physical book at the library about who you are.

This is why I hope all the excellent trans writers I know get their book deals and our stories will fill our local libraries someday!

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Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments.

Take care,

Rey