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Is Gender a Social Construct? in 7 Minutes

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Brief

Social constructivists propose that there is no inherent truth to gender; it is constructed by social expectations and gender performance.

Learning Objectives

Explain Judith Butler's concept of gender performativity

Key Takeaways

Social constructionism is the notion that people's understanding of reality is partially, if not entirely, socially situated.

Gender is a social identity that needs to be contextualized.

Individuals internalize social expectations for gender norms and behave accordingly.

Key Terms

Social Constructionism - The idea that social institutions and knowledge are created by actors within the system, rather than having any inherent truth on their own.

Gender Performativity - Gender Performativity is a term created by post-structuralist feminist philosopher Judith Butler in her 1990 book Gender Trouble, which has subsequently been used in a variety of academic fields that describes how individuals participate in social constructions of gender.

Essentialism - The view that objects have properties that are essential to them.

Full Text

Social Constructionism

The social construction of gender comes out of the general school of thought entitled social constructionism. Social constructionism proposes that everything people "know" or see as "reality" is partially, if not entirely, socially situated. To say that something is socially constructed does not mitigate the power of the concept. Take, for example, money. Money is a socially constructed reality. Paper bills are worth nothing independent of the value individuals ascribe to them. The dollar is only worth as much as value as Americans are willing to ascribe to it. Note that the dollar only works in its own currency market; it holds no value in areas that don't use the dollar. Nevertheless, the dollar is extremely powerful within its own domain.

These basic theories of social constructionism can be applied to any issue of study pertaining to human life, including gender. Is gender an essential category or a social construct? If it is a social construct, how does it function? Who benefits from the way that gender is constructed? A social constructionist view of gender looks beyond categories and examines the intersections of multiple identities and the blurring of the boundaries between essentialist categories. This is especially true with regards to categories of male and female, which are viewed typically as binary and opposite. Social constructionism seeks to blur the binary and muddle these two categories, which are so frequently presumed to be essential.

Judith Butler and Gender Performativity

Judith Butler is one of the most prominent social theorists currently working on issues pertaining to the social construction of gender. Butler is a trained philosopher and has oriented her work towards feminism and queer theory. Butler's most known work is Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity, published in 1991, which argues for gender performativity. This means that gender is not an essential category. The repetitious performances of "male" and "female" in accordance with social norms reifies the categories, creating the appearance of a naturalized and essential binary. Gender is never a stable descriptor of an individual, but an individual is always "doing" gender, performing or deviating from the socially accepted performance of gender stereotypes. Doing gender is not just about acting in a particular way. It is about embodying and believing certain gender norms and engaging in practices that map on to those norms. These performances normalize the essentialism of gender categories. In other words, by doing gender, we reinforce the notion that there are only two mutually exclusive categories of gender. The internalized belief that men and women are essentially different is what makes men and women behave in ways that appear essentially different. Gender is maintained as a category through socially constructed displays of gender.

Doing gender is fundamentally a social relationship. One does gender in order to be perceived by others in a particular way, either as male, female, or as troubling those categories. Certainly, gender is internalized and acquires significance for the individual; some individuals want to feel feminine or masculine. Social constructionists might argue that because categories are only formed within a social context, even the affect of gender is in some ways a social relation. Moreover, we hold ourselves and each other for our presentation of gender, or how we "measure up." We are aware that others evaluate and characterize our behavior on the parameter of gender. Social constructionists would say that gender is interactional rather than individual-it is developed through social interactions. Gender is also said to be omnirelevant, meaning that people are always judging our behavior to be either male or female.

Judith Butler

Author of Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity.

Source: Boundless. "The Social Construction of Gender." Sociology - Cochise College Boundless, 26 May. 2016. Retrieved 27 Feb. 2017 from https://www.boundless.com/users/493555/textbooks/sociology-cochise-college/gender-stratification-and-inequality-11/gender-and-socialization-86/the-social-construction-of-gender-496-8675/

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Social constructivists propose that there is no inherent truth to gender; it is constructed by social expectations and gender performance. Explain Judith Butler's concept of gender performativity Social constructionism is the notion that people's understanding of reality is partially, if not entirely, socially situated. Gender is a social identity that needs to be contextualized.

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I hurried down the sidewalk, pretending not to hear the cop who was close on my tail. "Stop!" he called out, a note of frustration in his voice. I didn't care that he was frustrated because I was frustrated too.

I was tired of being harassed by the campus police, who seemed to be on high alert for me every time I left my dorm. As a shy freshman, it was hard enough for me to feel comfortable and at home at my new school, without having to worry about watching my back for the police, who seemed to be determined to single me out.

I was very aware of the eyes of the students all around me, who confusedly stared as I stubbornly continued down the sidewalk, trying to get away from the cop. He yelled at me to stop again, so I angrily turned to face him.

This is not the story that you think it is.

The police officer was not following me because of my skin color; he was profiling me, but not because of my race. As a white man, I do not have the experience of the disproportionately high number of people of color who are targeted by law enforcement. No, I was being profiled by the police because I am blind.

The police officer who followed me that day was assuming what many people assume-that I need help. On the surface, this is not a bad thing; it's encouraging that the world is full of people who are eager to help someone, and I appreciate that. However, I do sometimes wish that people could see past my blindness.

I wish that the police officer could have seen me as a competent student, confidently walking down the sidewalk I used nearly every day on my way to class, my computer bag on my shoulder. Instead, all he could see was the long white cane I use to get around, waving back and forth like a white flag of defeat and helplessness.

He had started by asking if I needed help as he pulled over in his car, jumping out onto the sidewalk. I was slightly startled by his sudden appearance, but I had simply replied, "No, thank you. I'm just on my way to class." I was running late, so I didn't bother stopping for him, and I didn't see any reason to say anything else. However, he didn't seem to trust my ability to assess my need for help.

"Wait," he called after me, "I'm just trying to help." "I understand that," I replied, "but I don't need your help, and I'm running late."

He hurried after me saying, "Where are you trying to get to?" That was when I truly became frustrated. I wasn't "trying" to get anywhere. I was just going to class, and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to me. So when he yelled at me to wait again, I turned around and let out my frustration.

I snapped back at him, "Look, I'm on my way to the performing arts building. We are standing on Jaguar Drive between the two- and three-hundred blocks, I am walking north, and I have three more blocks to walk. I know where I am at, I know where I am going, and I don't need your help." With that I huffily turned my back on him and continued on my way.

Looking back at this encounter, I am ashamed that I allowed myself to get so frustrated at the police officer. It wasn't the last time the campus police would try and force their assistance on me, nor was it the last time I would lose my temper. If I had been more patient, perhaps we could have grown to understand each other, instead of continuously clashing.

I always assumed that these outbursts of frustration towards the police were due entirely to my experience as a blind person - small micro-aggressions building up inside me until I boiled over.

However, recently I came to the realization that my identity as a white male also plays a role in such confrontations.

The honesty and aggression that I sometimes use to voice my frustration at the police are manifestations of white privilege.

I get frustrated at the police as a blind man, but I freely express that frustration as a white man. Such experiences have caused me to realize that when it comes to oppression and privilege, each of us lives with multiple identities that shape our experience of the world and how we are perceived.

To better understand these multiple identities, let us consider the concept of intersectionality.

How multiple identities shape our experiences

Intersectionality is a theory that explores how individuals can face multiple categories of discrimination when they belong to more than one marginalized group. Everyone possesses multiple identities, and these identities work together to shape each person's societal and cultural experience.

For example, the experience of an African-American woman is not comparable to the experience of a white woman or an African-American man. The concept of intersectionality came out of the Feminist movement, as women of color critiqued the movement for not acknowledging that the oppression they experienced was different than the oppression experienced by white women. This is not to say that there are no similarities between the experiences of women of color and white women; instead, it is simply an attempt to point out that women of color experience greater and more complex levels of oppression.

Complexity is an important hallmark of intersectionality. Every individual is a woven tapestry of identities, including, but not limited to, race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, disability, class, and religion.

Perhaps one of the first people to speak out about issues of intersectionality was a woman named Sojourner Truth. Sojourner was a prominent nineteenth-century abolitionist known for her frank and powerful speeches.

In 1851 Sojourner stood up before a women's suffrage meeting and spoke out against the chauvinistic hypocrisy of her day with a speech titled, "Ain't I a Woman?" She rebuked the men who claimed that women were fragile, while simultaneously expecting African-American women to bear unspeakable physical hardships.

It was Sojourner's status as both an African-American and a woman that gave her the insight to make such a clear critique of the dual oppression that she bore.

Sojourner's question, "Ain't I a Woman?" is echoed by the modern activist Laverne Cox. As a transgender woman of color, Laverne has brought Sojourner's frankness into the twenty-first century. "I stand before you this evening a proud, African-American, transgender woman. I'm not just one thing," Laverne said, in a speech that was also titled, "Ain't I a Woman." Like Sojourner, Laverne has spent her life fighting racism and sexism, while also facing homophobia and transphobia.

She was born in Alabama, which, as she puts it, "has a rich history of racial oppression, but also a rich history of resistance." Laverne's determination to express her true self survived and was strengthened by a childhood of being misunderstood and bullied. Her parents blamed Laverne for the bullying, eventually forcing her to attend therapy. The first thing that her therapist ever asked Laverne was, "do you understand the difference between boys and girls?"

Laverne endured such oppression to grow up to be a confident and acclaimed actress, using her experience and fame to highlight issues of intersectionality. Laverne's echoing of Sojourner's question, "Ain't I a woman?" illustrates how people facing different levels of oppression can rally together to make a difference.

Here's another example: As a blind woman, Ever Lee Hairston was a leader in disability activism. She helped organize the New Jersey chapter of the National Federation of the Blind, one of the most powerful blindness organizations in the country, and became the chapter's vice-president.

She was an inspirational leader with her soaring rhetoric and determination to never give up. This determination was tried and tested as she faced discrimination in the job market because of her blindness. She overcame this discrimination and eventually became the supervisor of some of the people who had doubted her. She touched countless people's lives through her work as the administrator of the Alcohol, Drug, and Outpatient Program of Camden County Health and Human Services.

She gained that determination through growing up picking cotton as the daughter of African-American sharecroppers. Her first experience as an activist was in the civil rights movement of the sixties. She worked to overcome discrimination as an African-American, marching in the streets, singing "We Shall Overcome" as stones and garbage were thrown at her.

Ever Lee Hairston's identity as a blind person and her identity as an African-American woman are important, and they each shed light on her inspirational story, a story that can only be appreciated through the lens of her combined identities.

At the intersection of privilege and oppression

Intersectionality is normally applied to individuals who face multiple levels of oppression, such as Sojourner, Laverne, and Ever. However, my identity as a blind white man is a little different. In my case, it is oppression and privilege that intersect, not multiple levels of oppression. Such an intersection further muddies the already complex waters of intersectionality.

For example, I have had a lot of practice talking about my marginalized status as a blind person, and I am very comfortable doing so. However, talking about my privileged status as a white male is another matter. I did not grow up talking about race, and I can sometimes find talking about white privilege uncomfortable. In other words, my identity as a blind person does not erase my other identities.

This coexistence of identities can be confusing for me. When I react to certain situations I have to ask if it is due to my marginalized status as a blind person, or my privileged status as a white person? This is not always an easy question for me to answer.

I believe that the discomfort I feel with such questions is actually a positive thing, and a necessary first step towards growth. It is only through understanding and embracing the multiplicity of our identities that we can truly know and appreciate all aspects of ourselves.

I have seen firsthand the danger of failing to see complex intersecting identities. Growing up in the deep south I often encountered people who resented political correctness. In my experience, such resentment is most commonly felt by poor white people. Understandably, it can be hard to see privilege when they are struggling to make ends meet.

Perhaps such attitudes would be different if they realized that people can simultaneously possess multiple identities and experience both oppression and privilege. This combination of oppression and privilege is similar to what I experience, and it can only be understood through the lens of intersectionality.

I began this essay with a story, and I think that in the end, stories are the key to us understanding intersectionality. It is through stories that we can increase understanding and make a difference. By listening to each other's stories we can empathize with experiences that we will never have.

For example, I will never know what it's like to walk through a store while being suspiciously followed by employees; however, through sharing stories of receiving unwanted attention, both African-American men and people with disabilities can empathize with each other.

An able-bodied woman will never know what it's like to walk into a church and receive prayers from people who want God to heal your perceived physical imperfections; however, through sharing stories of being seen as inferior, both people with disabilities and able-bodied women can empathize with each other.

You may have never considered how oppression and privilege can converge as they do in my story with the police officer, but now that you have heard this story, you may better appreciate your own stories of convergence.

I always resented that police officer for focusing on one small part of my identity that day, and making assumptions about me through that narrow focus. I realize now that my focus was also narrow. I was looking at the situation from the idea of an oppressed blind person, without realizing that I also faced the situation as a privileged white person. If I want to holistically confront such situations of oppression I must start by delving into my own identity.

As Abraham Lincoln said, "A house divided against itself cannot stand." He also said, in the same speech, "If we could first know where we are we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it." When we only focus on one aspect of our identity we are a divided house. It is only when we appreciate the full tapestry of all of our identities that we can holistically understand where we are, and through that understanding, hope to stand against oppression.

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Photo credit: Flickr user David Noah

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Each of us lives with multiple identities that shape our experience of the world and how we are perceived. In my case, oppression and privilege intersect. It's not always easy to examine our privilege, but I have seen firsthand the danger of failing to see complex intersecting identities.

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Kimberlé Crenshaw, "Race, Gender, Inequality and Intersectionality"

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Each week, In Theory Kimberlé Crenshaw is the executive director of the African American Policy Forum and a professor of law at Columbia University and the University of California, Los Angeles, law schools. takes on a big idea in the news and explores it from a range of perspectives. This week we're talking about intersectionality. Need a primer? Catch up here.
Intersectionality was a lived reality before it became a term.

Today, nearly three decades after I first put a name to the concept, the term seems to be everywhere. But if women and girls of color continue to be left in the shadows, something vital to the understanding of intersectionality has been lost.

In 1976, Emma DeGraffenreid and several other black women sued General Motors for discrimination, arguing that the company segregated its workforce by race and gender: Blacks did one set of jobs and whites did another. According to the plaintiffs' experiences, women were welcome to apply for some jobs, while only men were suitable for others. This was of course a problem in and of itself, but for black women the consequences were compounded. You see, the black jobs were men's jobs, and the women's jobs were only for whites. Thus, while a black applicant might get hired to work on the floor of the factory if he were male; if she were a black female she would not be considered. Similarly, a woman might be hired as a secretary if she were white, but wouldn't have a chance at that job if she were black. Neither the black jobs nor the women's jobs were appropriate for black women, since they were neither male nor white. Wasn't this clearly discrimination, even if some blacks and some women were hired?

Unfortunately for DeGraffenreid and millions of other black women, the court dismissed their claims. Why? Because the court believed that black women should not be permitted to combine their race and gender claims into one. Because they could not prove that what happened to them was just like what happened to white women or black men, the discrimination that happened to these black women fell through the cracks.
[Intersectionality: A Primer]
It was in thinking about why such a "big miss" could have happened within the complex structure of anti-discrimination law that the term "intersectionality" was born. As a young law professor, I wanted to define this profound invisibility in relation to the law. Racial and gender discrimination overlapped not only in the workplace but in other other arenas of life; equally significant, these burdens were almost completely absent from feminist and anti-racist advocacy. Intersectionality, then, was my attempt to make feminism, anti-racist activism, and anti-discrimination law do what I thought they should - highlight the multiple avenues through which racial and gender oppression were experienced so that the problems would be easier to discuss and understand.

Intersectionality is an analytic sensibility, a way of thinking about identity and its relationship to power. Originally articulated on behalf of black women, the term brought to light the invisibility of many constituents within groups that claim them as members, but often fail to represent them. Intersectional erasures are not exclusive to black women. People of color within LGBTQ movements; girls of color in the fight against the school-to-prison pipeline; women within immigration movements; trans women within feminist movements; and people with disabilities fighting police abuse - all face vulnerabilities that reflect the intersections of racism, sexism, class oppression, transphobia, able-ism and more. Intersectionality has given many advocates a way to frame their circumstances and to fight for their visibility and inclusion.

Intersectionality has been the banner under which many demands for inclusion have been made, but a term can do no more than those who use it have the power to demand. And not surprisingly, intersectionality has generated its share of debate and controversy.

Conservatives have painted those who practice intersectionality as obsessed with "identity politics." Of course, as the DeGraffenreid case shows, intersectionality is not just about identities but about the institutions that use identity to exclude and privilege. The better we understand how identities and power work together from one context to another, the less likely our movements for change are to fracture.
[Why Equal Protection may not protect everyone equally.]
Others accuse intersectionality of being too theoretical, of being "all talk and no action." To that I say we've been "talking" about racial equality since the era of slavery and we're still not even close to realizing it. Instead of blaming the voices that highlight problems, we need to examine the structures of power that so successfully resist change.

Some have argued that intersectional understanding creates an atmosphere of bullying and "privilege checking." Acknowledging privilege is hard - particularly for those who also experience discrimination and exclusion. While white women and men of color also experience discrimination, all too often their experiences are taken as the only point of departure for all conversations about discrimination. Being front and center in conversations about racism or sexism is a complicated privilege that is often hard to see.

Although the president's recent call to support black women was commendable, undertaking intersectional work requires concrete action to address the barriers to equality facing women and girls of color in U.S. society.

Intersectionality alone cannot bring invisible bodies into view. Mere words won't change the way that some people - the less-visible members of political constituencies - must continue to wait for leaders, decision-makers and others to see their struggles. In the context of addressing the racial disparities that still plague our nation, activists and stakeholders must raise awareness about the intersectional dimensions of racial injustice that must be addressed to enhance the lives of all youths of color.
Explore these other perspectives:
This is why we continue the work of the #WhyWeCantWait Campaign, calling for holistic and inclusive approaches to racial justice. It is why "Say Her Name" continues to draw attention to the fact that women too are vulnerable to losing their lives at the hands of police. And it is why thousands have agreed that the tragedy in Charleston, S.C., demonstrates our need to sustain a vision of social justice that recognizes the ways racism, sexism and other inequalities work together to undermine us all. We simply do not have the luxury of building social movements that are not intersectional, nor can we believe we are doing intersectional work just by saying words.
Latoya Peterson: Intersectionality is not a label. Lauren Sudeall Lucas: Why Equal Protection may not protect everyone equally. Alyssa Rosenberg: How 'Orange Is the New Black' wins at illustrating identity
Brittney Cooper: Black lives matter - all of them.

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Opinion | Why intersectionality can't wait

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Each week, In Theory Kimberlé Crenshaw is the executive director of the African American Policy Forum and a professor of law at Columbia University and the University of California, Los Angeles, law schools. takes on a big idea in the news and explores it from a range of perspectives.