https://waypoint.vice.com/en_us/art...k-fractured-but-whole-transphobia-trans-woman
Long article, but worth the read. It's by Jennifer Unkle, btw. Couldn't figure out how to put the name in the quote.
I thought this was an interesting article, and I wanted to get era's thoughts on it.
In my opinion, the last quote pretty much sums it up. People always say "But South Park makes fun of everyone!" Okay, yeah, is that supposed to make it okay? They do seem to go out of their way in this game to really mock trans characters, and in a time where trans discrimination is an INCREDIBLY seriously problem that is not getting 1% of the attention it deserves, I don't really see how criticizing the game could be seen as baffling.
Long article, but worth the read. It's by Jennifer Unkle, btw. Couldn't figure out how to put the name in the quote.
After spending several hours jumping through quasi-superhero misadventures in South Park: The Fractured But Whole, my elementary school counselor called me into his office. He understood that I wanted to talk about my gender, and started with a simple prompt: Was I a boy, a girl, or "other"?
...
As Mr. Mackay rushed to the phone and incredulously repeated what I had revealed in the privacy of his room, I stared on in disbelief. This is a nightmare scenario for many queer children: parents aren't always sympathetic to their own kid's identity, and have been known to throw them out of the house permanently, regardless of age. Yet here Mr. Mackay was, reconstructing a worst-case scenario for a weak "wait, is this for real?" joke we've seen a million times before. Of all the franchises that could have handled this emotionally significant moment with care, why did we have to settle for South Park?
Despite its reputation as a satirical stalwart that treats everything and everyone as "fair game," South Park has a particular taste for transphobic humor. The homeroom teacher went through a several-year transition arc, treating her surgeries and sex life as dehumanizing, gross-out gags.
When I came out to someone I trusted, they used the episode where Kyle (a small, white kid) becomes a tall, black basketball player to paint me as deluded. Trey Parker and Matt Stone even went as far as recreating the wild fantasy Republicans peddle to strip our rights away: When Cartman is tired of using the men's room, he declares himself "transginger" for the sole purpose of accessing the girls' room instead. Rather than use its position as a cultural touchstone to advocate for our rights, the comedic duo has always preferred to use us as cheap, hateful gags.
I did my best to ignore the loud contempt South Park had toward people like me, but Ubisoft went and announced that The Fractured But Whole would let players create trans characters. South Park aside, this would be a historic release: For once, a monolithic publisher was willing to give us the spotlight. We wouldn't be a throwaway camp villain, a recurring gag or an ally with implied queerness. We would be stars, and that alone grabbed my attention.
After Mr. Mackay called my parents twice(!), he messed up my pronouns, said a few empty words of encouragement and shuffled me out of his room. As soon as I left the school, a gang of rednecks drove up in a truck, stating they didn't take kindly to "this thing" before tossing me into a fight. It's tempting to credit the writers for one rare moment of awareness: transphobic violence is rarely discussed in media, and in games, it's mostly dished out for the player's amusement. How would a cis player react if they saw their trans character face discrimination?
I cross-referenced my playthrough with other reports and discovered something far more upsetting: No matter what gender you choose in the counselor's office, the rednecks will always find an excuse to start trouble: "Hey, it's that boy," they'll shout. "They're cisgendered too!" "We don't take kindly to your types around here." Rather than commenting on the danger we face when we choose to live publicly, the writers turned our fear into a cheap gag, rendering the confrontation toothless. Despite what their framing might suggest, we're bullied, harassed and physically attacked at a disproportionate rate, often by folks who look nothing like a cartoon bigot. When over 20 of us have been murdered in this year alone, tongue-in-cheek attempts at downplaying the violence against our community are more than a little frustrating.
The locals weren't too thrilled with my recent revelation, either. Aside from the occasional "little miss," talking to anyone who wasn't offering a quest resulted in lines like this:
"Aren't you a cute little abomination?"
"That's an interesting look you got going on, boy and/or girl. I don't see gender."
"Aren't you a brave little… whatever you are!"
"Who are you supposed to be, tiny Liberace?"
Several of your teammates fill their character sheets with terms like "Asexual Gender-Neutral Kite Alien," mimicking the same "I identify as___" jokes transphobes make to delegitimize our existence. "PC Principal" also trains you to point out microaggressions for free hits: By offering a strategic incentive for an otherwise sensible action, the writers frame it as a cheap shot we're always waiting to make, rather than a genuine reaction to hurtful language ("...people use microaggressions every day. I'm counting on you to make them pay for doing so!"). When one of the heroes turned to me and said "You kinda have big raisins for a boy, New Kid"— raisins is their code word for breasts—it became clear I was only there to be laughed at.
The South Park creative team is far from the "equal opportunity offender" its ardent defenders make it out to be. The writers remain blind to the abuse and violence marginalized groups receive. They dish out judgment from a scale that was already tipped. From their perspective, our insistence on fair treatment is just as contemptible as the folks mistreating us: We're a nuisance preventing them from getting on with their lives. In the world of South Park, nothing is worse than the disruption of their status quo. There may not be hard limits to comedy, but why waste your admiration on tired, hateful statements that masquerade as jokes?
Aside from a few enthusiastic nods from Wendy, the story all but discarded my choices. My fellow superheroes exclusively used he/him pronouns in and out of cutscenes. They'd occasionally remark that I was a feminine boy, but never made so much as a nod toward my trans identity. It felt like the writers grew tired of their punching bag and moved to the next target, leaving me out to dry. The trans option was window dressing to them, but it meant a great deal more to me.
Then again, maybe I should be glad South Park: The Fractured But Whole forgot I was there. When their concept of inclusion involves mocking the trans, nonbinary and queer communities, being the first game isn't worth any kudos. The fault doesn't rest entirely on Ubisoft's shoulders, either: When being seen is the status quo for queer representation, being heard falls by the wayside. The industry should bring us into the fold, let us write our own stories. Otherwise, we'll see more South Parks treating us like goofy, alternate costumes worthy of their derision.
I thought this was an interesting article, and I wanted to get era's thoughts on it.
In my opinion, the last quote pretty much sums it up. People always say "But South Park makes fun of everyone!" Okay, yeah, is that supposed to make it okay? They do seem to go out of their way in this game to really mock trans characters, and in a time where trans discrimination is an INCREDIBLY seriously problem that is not getting 1% of the attention it deserves, I don't really see how criticizing the game could be seen as baffling.
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