Jennifer Brozek | February 2021

Tell Me - Marsheila Rockwell

Marsheila Rockwell and I share a TOC for the forthcoming Turning the Tied anthology that will benefit the World Literacy Foundation. Today, she tells me her thoughts on how Ozma connects her the Ojibwe.

 

The story I have in IAMTW’s upcoming Turning the Tied anthology is called “A Prisoner Freed in Oz” and features Ozma of Oz. For those not familiar with her story (as detailed in L. Frank Baum’s The Marvelous Land of Oz), Ozma was born a girl, but as a baby was magically transformed into a boy named Tip, and lived as a boy until her teens, when she was finally transformed back into her true self. Modern readers will no doubt see a parallel to the transgender experience, although the book was first published in 1904, before that word was coined and well before it was an acceptable experience to write about in a children’s book.

Many people mistakenly believe that gender variance is a new idea, perhaps born out of the Sexual Revolutions of the 1920s or 1960s. But the character of Ozma hints that gender variance has existed for much longer than that, though perhaps not as openly expressed as it is today.

I am a reconnecting Chippewa (Ojibwe)/Métis (I’m not changing the subject, I promise). Broadly, ‘reconnecting’ in this context refers to an Indigenous person who was denied access to their tribe’s culture and heritage while growing up and is trying to rectify that situation as an adult, without the benefit of parents or grandparents to bridge the gap. Part of that effort (at least for me) includes trying to educate myself about and become active in Indigenous causes. It was during that process that I learned that many Indigenous tribes/nations recognized and accepted the concept of gender variance long before colonizers ever set foot on Turtle Island.

Specific beliefs and terminology varied from tribe to tribe—for instance, the Navajo called such people nadleeh and the Lakota used the term winkte. Gender variants included feminine woman, masculine woman, feminine man, masculine man, and sometimes both, or neither. Roles for such individuals varied depending on their tribe/nation, as well. Being Chippewa, I’ll focus on those beliefs.

According to Anton Treuer (Ojibwe), professor of Ojibwe linguistics at Bemidji State University, “the Ojibwe accepted variation. Men who chose to function as women were called ikwekanaazo, meaning ‘one who endeavors to be like a woman.’ Women who functioned as men were called ininiikaazo, meaning, ‘one who endeavors to be like a man.’” He goes on to say that the part played by these individuals, “was considered to be sacred, often because they assumed their roles based on spiritual dreams or visions.”

Today, ‘Two-Spirit’ is used as an umbrella term to try to capture the Indigenous gender variant experience. The word was coined in 1990 to replace the anthropological term berdache, which had traditionally been used to identify gender-variant Indigenous individuals. The etymology of that word, however, stems from the French bardache, which can be taken to mean “male prostitute,” and is patently offensive. While no experience is universal to all Indigenous people, and one word cannot possibly be used to frame an experience which differs across 574 federally recognized tribes, ‘Two-Spirit’ has, as its Wikipedia article notes, “generally received more acceptance and use than the term it replaced.”

So, long story short (ha!): Gender variance has been part of humanity for probably as long as there have been humans. Sadly, Ozma and the Ojibwe notwithstanding, acceptance of gender variance has been around for a much shorter time. But I look forward to the day when acceptance of all our differences will be the norm. Maybe my story will help with that. I hope so.

#TurningTheTied

---
Marsheila (Marcy) Rockwell is the author of twelve SF/F/H books, dozens of poems and short stories, several articles on writing and the writing process, and a handful of comic book scripts. She is also a disabled pediatric cancer and mental health awareness advocate and a reconnecting Chippewa/Métis. She lives in the Valley of the Sun with her husband, three of their five children, two rescue kitties (one from hell), and far too many books.

Construction and Deconstruction

January was a month and a half. It felt a lot like the 13th month of 2020. Now that we’re into February, it’s starting to feel like 2021. Which is to say, time is moving again. Things are happening. While some of it is painful, all of it appears to be good.

Most of January was focused on slush reading and editing of 99 Tiny Terrors. Also on reading everything for The Reinvented Heart which I’m editing with Cat Rambo. On top of that, my house has been under construction.

We’ve had a gas fireplace that hasn’t really worked in two years. Since we did no travel last year, that money got earmarked for a new fireplace with updated tile and mantle. That was so (like the bathrooms) we can enjoy the home improvements before we (someday, projected to be 2025) sell this house since we know the things we’ve fixed/are fixing/will fix are things that need to be done to get the house sellable.

A simple renovation.

Nope. Cue: dry rot. Now, the Husband suspected some dry rot where the tile had been broken. He did not suspect half of the chimney had dry rot from blocked gutters that had been improperly replaced after the house was painted and thus tilted towards the chimney. So… I had holes in my house for days. It was most disturbing.

Things are better now. Not done. The week long reno has turned into two weeks, but the designer we hired has been awesome. He looked at the problem, worked on it, and had a solution and a plan within hours. We chose the right guy.

I have to admit that I’m really looking forward to having the house back. All of the dining room furniture is in the library nook or down in the family room. We’ve had to lock up the cats this whole time while the workers have been here—they are NOT pleased and have let us know this. Also, we’ve had to wear masks inside the house for everyone’s safety. None of this is fun, but we can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

In the meantime, one of the shelves in the family room holding some game books and all my graphic novels gave up the ghost and collapsed. We can put the blame squarely on The Dark Tower omnibus set and all of the Sandman graphic novels I have. That was added excitement we did not need. New, stronger wall brackets are on the way and I need to declutter some of those books. Still, lemonade out of lemons: it amuses me that Stephen King and Neil Gaiman murdered my shelf bracket.

Looking forward, I’ll be shifting from mere editing to actual anthology construction. It’s one of my favorite parts of the process; seeing a project become more than the sum of its parts. Also, I have some cool news to share on the publishing front when the contracts are signed. Plus, there’s potential awesomeness on the horizon.

I have a lot to look forward to in the next couple of months.