The Transgender Inquisition

 (The scene is a college dorm room.  It is typically furnished:  A desk, a loft bed so that the resident has more floor space for a guitar and other stuff that makes sense only to an undergraduate, a compact refrigerator, and a poster of a Schiele Painting because Klimt is just too cliché.  An earnest young man is sitting at the desk, tapping away on his laptop.  There’s a knock on the door.)

Ernest Young Man:  (not looking away from the screen)  Come in, it’s open.

(A young woman enters in a t-shirt and very loose dungarees.)

Young Woman:  You wanted to see me, Zak?

Zak:  (still not looking away from the screen) It’s Cherrie, right?

Cherrie:  Yeah, that’s my name.  Don’t wear it out.

Zak:  (finally swivels his chair toward Cherrie). Would you shut the door, please?

Cherrie:  Well, okay, but…

Zak:  It's just a routine interview, but it has to be confidential.  I don't bite.

Cherrie:  Okay.  (shuts the door). Am I in trouble?

Zak:  Only if you choose to be.  (Points to an empty chair at the corner of his desk)  Have a seat.  Relax.  As I said, this is routine.  I have to do this with every one on my floor.

Cherrie:  (Sits down)  Okay.  (Still a bit uneasy)

Zak:  So, Cherrie, you're a first year, right?

Cherrie:  Yes.

Zak:  So, you're just at the exploratory phase, right?  Taking a little bit of this and little bit of that, right?

Cherrie:  Well, not exactly.  I intend to major in philosophy with a minor in German.

Zak:  Oh, okay, so you already know what you're going to do.  That's very well.  Are you taking a gender studies class?

Cherrie:  Not yet.

Zak:  You know that it's a distribution requirement, don't you?

Cherrie:  Yeah, I wish I had known that before I applied here.

Zak:  What's that supposed to mean?

Cherrie:  You're not my academic advisor.  What's it to you?

Zak:  I am your RA and as such I am responsible that this floor has harmonious thoughts.  

Cherrie:  Harmonious thoughts?  This is America.  We have Free Speech.

Zak:  Yes, of course we do, but what is the purpose of Free Speech?

Cherrie:   To criticize the state without fear of reprisal?

Zak:  It's so that we can arrive at a harmonious consensus of the truth.  And not everything we say helps us in our journey to the truth.  Like, say, yelling fire in a crowded theatre.  

Cherrie:  It's falsely yelling…

Zak:  I let you speak.  Please, you're being rude.  Now.  I may speak, right?  Okay.  Now, what you did last night violently disturbed our harmonious journey towards the truth.  I just thought I'd bring this to your attention so that your journey here will be harmonious and not discordant.

Cherrie:  But isn't life discordant?

Zak:  Not if you don't want it to be.  It's in our power whether life is harmonious or not, and last night you chose to be not harmonious.

Cherrie:  I never could carry a tune.  

Zak:  This is not the time for silly remarks.  At the floor meeting last night, when you were asked for your pronouns, you just said that they should be obvious.  Those weren't harmonious thoughts.  If you were taking a gender studies class, you'd know this.

Cherrie:  Pronouns?  Seriously?  Really?  Are you kidding me?  Are you kidding me?

Zak:  What’s that supposed to mean?  This is real and serious. Why didn’t you give your pronouns?

Cherrie:  Because it’s stupid.  I mean, hello, I am obviously a ‘she’.  May I go now?

Zak: Your gender expression is not your gender identity.

Cherrie:  Ah, geez. 

Zak:  Saying that your pronouns are obvious does real harm to transpeople who are constantly misgendered.

Cherrie:  And that's not harmonious?

Zak:  No.

Cherrie:  Shocker.  It's also not my problem.

Zak:  We are all our siblings' validators.  Otherwise things would not be—

Cherrie:  —harmonious?

Zak:  Yes.

Cherrie:  Called it!

Zak:  I want you to take this seriously.

Cherrie: This is how I usually dress.  I wear baggy dungarees, and I still get catcalls.  Boys stare at my breasts when they talk to me.   I don't know how many fucking times I've heard that line about how it must have hurt to have fallen from heaven.  The idea that my pronouns are NOT glaringly fucking obvious is not only stupid, it is grotesque and insulting, and I want you to take that seriously.  You understand?

Zak:  I do.

Cherrie:  Good.

Zak:  You reject feminine performativity because you are really a man.

Cherrie:  What the fuck?

Zak:  See, you swear like a man, you don't like your body, and you don't want to submit to men's libidos.  That's understandable because you're a man.

Cherrie:  You're a fucking lunatic.  (Gets up and races for the door, but Zak blocks her.)  Get out of the way, Zak.  You're scaring me.

Zak:  Your repressed gender dysphoria has made you a clear and present transphobic danger, which I cannot allow on my floor.

Cherrie:  That didn't even make sense.  

Zak:  It's not my job to educate you.

Cherrie:  If you do not let me out here right now, I swear to God I’ll cry ‘rape’!  You got that?

Zak:  I am sorry, but you leave me no choice.  (Zak presses a button on the wall and immediately Zak’s dorm room recedes and is replaced by a dark chamber with a rack where Zak’s desk used to be and various other torture devices hanging on the walls.  Six hooded monks enter, chanting, “Transfeminae sunt feminae.”  Cherrie is hyperventilating.)

Cherrie:  Where the fuck am I?  Rape!  Rape!  Someone help me, please!  Now!  Rape!

Zak:  No one can hear you.  You are now before the Most Holy Transgender Inquisition.  Please, kneel.

Cherrie:  Fuck no!  Rape!  Rape!

(Zak and two monks grab Cherrie and, after a brief struggle, get her to kneel.)

Zak:  Now, we have a few questions for you.  Don't worry.  We're here to help you through your dysphoria.  Dysphoria means disharmony.  And we don't want that, do we? (Cherrie is unresponsive)   DO YOU UNDERSTAND?  (Cherrie slowly nods as she quivers) Now, Parent Transquemada, you may proceed.  

(One of the hooded monks approaches Cherrie while the other monks keep chanting, “Transfeminae sunt feminae.”)

Transquemada:  (lifts Cherrie’s face up by her chin)  Did you play with trucks when you were a kid?

Zak:  You shall answer, Cherrie.  Now!

Cherrie:  Please, let me go!  I’ll say whatever you want.

Transquemada: Did you play with trucks when you were a kid?

Cherrie:  I did.

(The other monks start chanting, "Vir est, vir est!")

Cherrie:  (hastens to add) …but only because my older brothers kept kidnapping my dolls.

Transquemada:  But did you like playing with trucks?

Cherrie:  I was four.   I don't remember.  (The two monks each take her arms and pull them until…) I liked playing with trucks!  I liked playing with trucks!  (The monks release her arms while the others continue to chant "Vir est!  Vir est!")

Transquemada:  Do you think women should be deferential and submissive to men?

Cherrie:  Yes, yes, I do.  Of course, I do.  Now, please, please, let me go!

Transquemada:  But do you yourself think you should defer and submit to men.

Cherrie:  Yes!  Yes!

Transquemada:  Do you swear on the Right Side of History?

Cherrie:  Whatever that means, yes.  Now, please…

Transquemada:  Do you yourself think you should defer and submit to men?  Be truthful.

Cherrie:  I already gave you my answer.  

Transquemada:  But your dungarees are giving us a different answer.  (The monks start stretching out her arms again.)

Cherrie:  No, I refuse to submit and defer to men.  Is that the answer you want?  Please, let that be the answer you want.

Transquemada:  Are you satisfied with that answer?

Cherrie:  Yes, yes, I am.  Please, please, tell me that is what you want.

Transquemada:  Brothers, what is your verdict?

Monks:  (chanting in unison) Vir est, vir est!

Transquemada:  By the Holy Office of the Right Side of History I declare that you are a man.  Now, my brothers, put him on the rack so we can lop off his breasts.

(Black Out)