Finding Nevo: music as guide and companion in the life of a non-binary person

Introduction

This paper aims to show that music can play a key role in negotiating challenges around transgender identity. The focus here is on a recently published autobiographical book by non-binary Australian writer and transgender activist Nevo Zisin entitled 'Finding Nevo: How I confused everyone'. The book contains a number of references to music and its significance in Zisin’s life. Looking specifically at the language used by Zisin in describing a complex relationship with gender and a deeply meaningful relationship with music, the paper aims to identify instances of music providing a form of support. The paper also aims to demonstrate that the question of identity, and particularly of gender and sexuality identity, is not as simple as deciding to identify as male or female, nor as heterosexual, lesbian or bisexual, but involves, at least in Zisin’s case, a number of different identity phases, as well as doubt and suffering along the way.

In keeping with the book’s pronouns, this paper uses ‘they’ and ‘them’ when referring to Zisin. Similarly, terms associated with gender and queer theory reflect Zisin’s own choice of words. As a writer and activist, Zisin has developed their own views around questions of gender identity, and this paper tries to reflect rather than to interpret Zisin’s views. Yet, it would be naïve to assume an objective position for any piece of writing, and my own position in this paper is that it follows and reiterates the language, the signifiers and signifying chains, used by Zisin as the author of their autobiographical text. The paper’s reframing of Zisin’s text and the choice of quotations and references are guided by my focus on Zisin’s identity phases and Zisin’s engagement with music.

My own position in this paper therefore might be best described as Lacanian, but reference to Lacan in the context of transgender identity requires clarification. Lacanian theory is closely linked to psychoanalysis and the writings of Sigmund Freud, and the relationship between psychoanalysis and gender-variant people could be seen as problematic, especially in view of the assumption that psychoanalysis pathologizes the transgender community. In 2017, the psychoanalyst and author Patricia Gherovici published a book entitled Transgender Psychoanalysis, in which she stresses that ‘being transgender is not a mental disorder or a psychiatric condition.’ (20) While acknowledging that psychoanalysis has ‘a regrettable history of pathologizing non-normative genders and sexualities’, her book suggests that this history has less to do with the actual writings of Freud and Lacan than with ‘selective reinterpretation’ and ‘reductive distortions’. (23-4) Gherovici reminds her readers that ‘Freud always questioned the idea of normalcy in human sexuality’, and that Lacan considered certain post-Freudian notions of normalcy as ‘delusional’. (21, 101) I should also point out that while my writing is informed by Lacanian concepts, this paper does not constitute an attempt at psychoanalysing Nevo Zisin’s autobiography, let alone its author. Finally, this paper presents the material relevant to music and identity in a roughly chronological order to show how the musical experiences and identity changes occur side by side and constitute part of the same experiential horizon.

Not one identity change but constant change

The journey described in Zisin’s book is not one of a simple transformation from a girl to a young transgender male. Instead, Zisin makes the point that the only constant in their life is change. (21) And rather than being able to settle for one particular gender identity, Zisin makes it clear towards the end of the book that their relationship with gender is complicated: 'But now I understand it took her [Zisin’s mother] a long time to process who I was as a man. That it would take a lot longer to come to terms with the fact I could be a feminine man, or someone with an even more complicated relationship with gender.' (182)

To say that gender for Zisin is complicated might seem like a generalisation, but in the context of identification for trans and non-binary people things are often far more involved and cannot be simplistically described as being born female and wanting to be male or vice versa. A subtler way of talking about gender identity might involve a reference to having a particular gender assigned at birth, and then growing into a gender identity that conflicts with this.

Zisin was born into a Jewish family in Melbourne and their journey begins like a classic transgender story with being ‘sat on the fact’ that they were a boy at the age of four. (11) Zisin’s mother struggled with this: 'My mum was desperate to have a daughter. … I often joke with her that her desperation to have a daughter resulted in my trans identity. … Mum tried to set boundaries as to how masculine I could be.' (10-11)

There were also struggles at school: 'I was bullied a lot for being a “tomboy” and also for my weight. I was a chubby little kid and the other kids at school often reminded me of this. These kids already had such ingrained fatphobia and misogyny. In order to fit in, I bullied other kids and that led to a lot of social issues and total loneliness.' (13)

Zisin’s struggles with gender are augmented by their body image: ‘I had a difficult relationship with my body as a woman, as a transgender person, as a non-binary person and simply as a human.’ (40) Zisin mentions feelings of ‘self-hatred and disconnection’ from their body during much of their childhood. (40)

Musical background

Zisin talks about music being a large part of their childhood, about their older siblings making music and encouraging Zisin to practice the piano. (25-6) At the age of about seven, Zisin discovers the trumpet. The trumpet teacher is impressed that Zisin can produce a sound on the instrument and explains that most people have to wait until they are at least ten years old because of their lip development. (26) Zisin loves the idea ‘that not everyone can pick up a trumpet and be able to play it’, and Zisin feels that playing the trumpet gives them a purpose. (26) Zisin’s childhood engagement with music also includes playing music with their brother, keeping a practice journal, teaching themselves the guitar to accompany their singing, and even writing their own music. (26-7)

Zisin mentions Missy Higgins as an influence on their song writing and Zisin refers to her public image: ‘The fact that her look wasn’t necessarily traditionally feminine was huge for me’. (27) Another performer mentioned by Zisin as a more recent influence is the Canadian electronic music and queer performance artist Peaches, who Zisin regards as ‘a powerhouse of knowledge of gender and sexuality’. (28) Peaches is known for her sexually explicit and often transgressive live performances, in which traditional gender conceptions are constantly challenged and transformed into non-binary stage representations of gender.

Fitting in with other girls

In year four, Zisin moves to a new school and tries to fit in with other girls by presenting as femininely as they could. (16-7) Zisin succeeds in being part of a small friendship group that would provide a support network for years to come. (16) Zisin now embraces the gender role assigned to them at birth: ‘This was a period in my life where I strongly identified as female, and a very proud one at that.’ (19)

In Year Five, Zisin has their first boyfriend and, as would be the case with most crushes in Year Five, the relationship lasted for about a month. (19) Zisin now also becomes aware of what it might mean to be a young girl in a patriarchal society. Zisin regards misogyny as something that ‘shows up constantly’ and eventually becomes internalised. (31) An example of this is Zisin at one point ‘wanting to be objectified in order to feel attractive’. (33)

Zisin’s first song

In high school, Zisin develops ‘an infatuation with a girl’ and feels caught off guard by the experience: 'I wasn’t necessarily freaked out by the fact I’d feelings for a girl, I was more concerned about the grandeur of them, and feeling quite obsessive. I wrote my first complete song about her.' (48)

This is a significant conjunction of music and a new emotional experience: both, having a crush on a girl and completing a song, happen for the first time in Zisin’s life. It would have been insightful to have Zisin elaborate about writing this song or about the song itself, but in the absence of that we can at least observe that this vignette corresponds to the time-honoured practice of expressing a life experience through a musical work.

Coming out

Soon after turning twelve, Zisin asks questions about sexual identification, about being bisexual, about still being partly heterosexual, and about not being exclusively lesbian. (49) Zisin is also bothered about the concept of coming out: 'Instead of expecting people to go through a deeply personal and exposing experience of revealing to everyone that they are not what they were assumed to be, we should stop making assumptions about people.' (59-60)

The concerns about sexual orientation begin to dissolve when Zisin realises that certainty might not be desirable to begin with. Instead, Zisin begins to recognise their sexuality as ‘something that is destined to be fluid.’ (63)

Zisin’s first girlfriend

At age fifteen, Zisin meets Tia, their first girlfriend at Minus18, a Melbourne-based network for LGBTIQ youth that organises social and dance events. (64) Initially, Zisin feels ‘awkward, confused and excited’, but Tia’s diligence in making Zisin comfortable allows Zisin to develop self-confidence. (64-5) Zisin feels safe in this relationship, and the fact that Tia declares that she is not monogamous does not present an obstacle. Together, Zisin and Tia learn about feminism and gender politics. Zisin’s view of ‘the world through a feminist lens’ leads to an awareness of how ‘women’s issues spread into other intersecting marginalised communities.’ (65-6) During that time, Zisin embraces their lesbian identity and their ‘long-repressed masculinity’. (67) Zisin also stops seeing their body as ‘impossible’. (67) It seems as if Zisin’s concern around identity begins to settle, but there is more to come.

The beginning of Year Twelve brings ‘anxiety and encroaching depression’, and Zisin’s brief description of gender dysphoria prioritises a sense of social exclusion: 'Gender dysphoria is this fun thing that happens sometimes when you exist outside of society’s very narrow understandings of gender, and it slowly started sneaking into my life.' (72)

Zisin also starts to experience sexual anxiety in their relationship with Tia, and Tia tentatively mentions that Zisin might be transgender, which Zisin initially rejects. (73) Nevertheless, Zisin begins to educate themselves about ‘trans, gender diverse and intersex people’. (74) Zisin recalls their dreams, where Zisin was ‘almost always a man’, but for Zisin, things are not as simple a fulfilling the wish to be a man: Zisin’s gender dysphoria grows and their head is ‘filled with paranoia and self-hatred’. (75) Zisin also realises that there is ‘no single trans narrative’. (75) While recognising similarities with the experience of other trans people, Zisin emphasises the singularity of their journey: ‘this is my experience and my experience alone’. (75) For example, coming out to one’s parents is something most young trans people will have to go through, but everyone’s parents are different. Zisin’s mother had come to accept Zisin’s lesbian identity, but she seriously struggles with what in her view is the much more radical gender transition: ‘Why can’t you be happy with that [being lesbian] and not push things further.’ (83)

During their relationship with Tia, Zisin searches for a new name. Zisin’s birth name is Liat – a Hebrew name that translates loosely into ‘you are mine’, and Zisin interprets this as a special message from their mother. (87) Zisin considers Lior as a Hebrew name that would reflect Zisin’s Israeli heritage, but Lior is a gender-neutral name and Zisin wanted a ‘masculine name (whatever that means)’. (88) Eventually the search concludes with the adoption of the Hebrew name Nevo, because ‘something about it felt right’. (89)

Passing

A critical part of the transgender experience is called ‘passing’, which for Zisin ‘means being read as the gender you identify with.’ (93) While transitioning, Zisin wanted to be read as a man, and this led to considerations about clothing, grooming, mannerisms considered masculine, adjusting the pitch of one’s voice, toilet etiquette, and packing, that is, ‘putting something in your pants to create a bulge.’ (93-100) After all the significant effort to pass as man, Zisin comes to the following conclusion: 'I hope that in future we can shift focus away from trans people needing to “pass”. I don’t need to sit, stand, walk and talk a certain way to be believed as a man. … Passing served its purpose for me, and was crucial at the time, but it also resulted in a loss of identity. … I often found myself wondering, what does it actually mean to be a man? Or a woman? Who gets to decide these criteria? And why are we afraid to embrace notions of “other”?' (101)

A concert and three dances

During the time of Zisin’s transition, a music concert marks a psychological friction point around Zisin’s recent lesbian past and Zisin’s transgender present. Zisin and Tia go to see the Canadian indie pop duo Tegan and Sara, who both identify as lesbians. (101-2) Zisin used to identify with the duo’s music and explains that it was affirming to hear songs that reflected the sort of relationships Zisin experienced at the time. (102) On the night of the concert, however, the music together with being surrounded by lesbians resulted in Zisin feeling anxious and paranoid: ‘It was this night that made me realise that being a trans man might mean I’m no longer a lesbian and that scared me.’ (102) Zisin’s account of this event shows that songs can reflect and affirm a particular type of relationship, and that a music event associated with a particular community can trigger thoughts about past and present identities.

In Year Twelve, Zisin’s school organises a muck-up day assembly that includes ‘three dances: a group dance with everyone, a boys’ dance and a girls’ dance.’ (118) Some of the boys in Zisin’s year level question Zisin’s gender identity and its validity, and refuse to have Zisin in their dance. (118-9) Zisin feels devastated, bullied and victimised, and does not go to school for several days. (119) On muck-up day, Zisin sits at the back during the dances and hides the tears that are welling up. (120) This is just one of many sad examples of the well-documented social exclusion frequently experienced by young trans and non-binary people.

Testosterone and language

Shortly after turning eighteen, Zisin begins their medical transition with testosterone. Two chapters of Zisin’s book are largely devoted to the complexities of obtaining and taking testosterone, including the interaction with medical practitioners, concerns raised by family and Zisin’s partner Tia about the timing of the treatment, and experiencing the various changes in Zisin’s body. (127-51) 'I was grateful my period stopped earlier than expected. … My voice began to drop, hair grew in places it hadn’t before like my stomach, toes and upper arms, veins began to pop out more, my appetite increased dramatically and I gained a lot of weight.' (147)

Gaining weight, however, does not bother Zisin this time around. (147) Instead, Zisin’s dysphoria begins to alleviate and Zisin feels more comfortable in their body. (148, 154) But rather than simply passing as male, Zisin is interested in re-exploring their queer identity by beginning to present more visibly ‘alternative’. (155) Zisin starts to wear nail polish and works on embracing things that are feminine. (155) Zisin makes new queer friends and becomes involved in queer and intersectional feminist activism. (161)

Zisin considers the year 2015 as a transgender tipping point in that the mainstream begins talking more frequently about issues of gender and sexuality. (162) Zisin is featured in a few documentaries and receives calls for interviews ‘in general mainstream media and within the Jewish community’. (162-3) Emphasising the importance of language, Zisin points out that the ‘language surrounding many of the interviews was incorrect and, to an extent, hurtful’. (163) Zisin gives the example of the mainstream media’s frequent reference to ‘the “being born in the wrong body” narrative’. (171) While this narrative might apply to some trans people, in Zisin’s view it suggests that ‘the only way for people to understand transgender individuals is by emphasising there is something wrong with them.’ (171) For Zisin, education around transgender issues still has a long way to go. (163)

Chest surgery

Around the age of twenty, Zisin considers the importance of getting chest surgery. For Zisin, this is not simply a matter of wanting to be a man or hating their current chest, but rather something that is life-improving. (169) In fact, Zisin ‘was slowly detaching from the label of “man”’. (168) Instead of giving reasons to do with gender, Zisin points out that the idea of using a binder for the rest of their life was ‘suffocating and unhealthy.’ (169)

After the operation, Zisin feels deeply comfortable and welcomes new possibilities of exploring gender, femininity, style and sexuality: 'My attraction to only women started to change. I met more queer people and began feeling attracted to people of all genders. I experimented with make-up, dresses and different ways of expressing myself. It was nice to feel so comfortable in my body that I could do these things without feeling it invalidated my gender. People were confused, but for the first time, I wasn’t.' (175-6)

Non-binary

Rather than passing as male, Zisin seeks to explore an identity ‘outside a narrow gender binary’. (181) Zisin talks about coming out once more: ‘This time, not as a lesbian, not a transgender man, or queer. This time I came out as me.’ Zisin no longer wants to be gendered and questions the social, institutional, historical, cultural, and geographical constructs of gender. (179-80) However, Zisin’s ‘complicated relationship with gender’ comes at a price. (182) There are confronting encounters with transphobic people in public spaces, there are existential questions around ‘how to fit in the world’, and there is anxiety and depression. (182) Zisin is now in their second year of university and does not know what they want anymore. (182) But not all is bad. Zisin finds a sense of belonging in the Jewish community and also feels inspired by people from the queer community, who have been able to transcend gender binaries. (190) These two communities appear to Zisin as the opposite ends of their identity and it is a challenge to maintain a balance between the two. (191)

Towards the end of the book Zisin recognises that it is ‘difficult to end a story that is still continuing’. (194) Zisin conceives of their past as fractured and associates each stage of their life with a different identity. (194) For Zisin, discovering their queerness ‘has been the hardest and best thing.’ (204) Zisin concludes by appealing to their readers to make this world safer ‘so that each person doesn’t need to be a role model’: ‘So we can live our lives without being constantly politicised. So we can choose to be activists, not be forced into it.’ (192)

P!nk

At the very end of their book, Zisin provides a couple of pages of acknowledgments. Zisin acknowledges their family, the Jewish community, the queer community, and finally the female recording artist P!nk: '… you made me my own hero at a very young age when I had nowhere else to turn. You taught me I was powerful and could be anything I wanted. I loved you, I will always love you, and I thank you for the strength in me your music guided me towards.' (204)

Zisin highlights music’s capacity to guide them to an inner strength. Zisin refers to their love for recording artist P!nk, and given that it is unlikely that Zisin has actually met P!nk in person, their love is directed at the ways in which the artist is embodied in the media: her public persona, her lyrics, and her music. Earlier in the book, when Zisin talks about their childhood, they have the following to say about P!nk:

'She was my first exposure to a woman who was comfortable with her own masculinity: powerful and outspoken. Her music helped me get through a lot of hard times. I saw myself in her – saw who I wanted to be – and I developed a deep connection with her lyrics. Her early music addressed the invisibility I felt as a child and showed me that my feelings and opinions were not invalid because of my age. I felt like she understood and heard me and gave me a voice. Her music was a comfort, particularly through the time when my parents were having issues. I am grateful for the effect she had on my life. She taught me to be my own hero, to save myself and that if I want a role model, I may have to be my own.' (27-8)

There is quite a lot that can be noted about this quotation. Zisin reflects on issues of gender when they refer to P!nk’s masculinity, which Zisin associates at this point with being powerful and outspoken. There is a difference between simply referring to a powerful and outspoken woman and conceiving of power and outspokenness as being masculine. However, as the book demonstrates in other parts, Zisin is acutely aware of oversimplified and generalised notions of gender. (179) Zisin also talks about seeing themselves in P!nk as well as seeing who they wanted to be, thereby assigning P!nk the function of both a mirror as well as a role model. (See note at the end of this post.) In fact, P!nk’s status exceeds that of a role model in that she becomes an imaginary teacher who shows Zisin to be their own hero. Over and above that, Zisin feels that P!nk understands and even listens to Zisin. P!nk has become a virtual interlocutor.

Zisin also talks about a deep connection with P!nk’s lyrics, which add language to the identification with P!nk. And there is the emphasis on P!nk’s music providing comfort, addressing feelings of invisibility, and helping Zisin to get through difficult times. P!nk has become an imaginary proxy in that her public visibility helps to counterbalance Zisin’s own feelings about a lack of visibility. This proxy function is further amplified by the statement that P!nk has given Zisin a voice. P!nk in her various embodiments, and specifically through her music, has provided the sort of support and comfort that according to Zisin was not coming from anywhere else.

Summary

The purpose of this paper was to highlight two points through Zisin’s own language. Firstly, an active engagement with questions of gender and sexuality can involve several identity changes, and secondly, music can play a significant supporting role in negotiating these different identities. Zisin’s autobiography traces a complex journey that includes identifying as boy at the age of four, trying to fit in with other girls and identifying as female at primary school, asking questions about being bisexual at the age of twelve, identifying as lesbian at the age of fifteen, experiencing gender dysphoria at the beginning of Year Twelve, identifying as trans male and starting medical transition at the age of eighteen, and then reaching a point at which Zisin no longer wants to be gendered at all.

As for the role of music, Zisin has provided a rich palette of functions that goes well beyond pastime, entertainment and aesthetic enjoyment. Zisin talks about the sense of purpose that playing the trumpet was able to provide, and about writing a song in response to an emotional experience. Zisin demonstrates how different recording and performance artists accompany different identity phases in Zisin’s life, and how P!nk in particular provided both a voice and a virtual person to talk to. Zisin asserts that P!nk’s music validated their feelings and opinions as a young person, and that it even addressed Zisin’s feelings of invisibility. Zisin highlights the comfort that music can give, especially when there seems to be no one else to turn to. Zisin’s experiences also underline music’s social dimension and its concomitant potential to promote inclusiveness. Zisin refers to music’s ability to provide guidance towards an inner strength that might otherwise not be as easily accessible, and Zisin regards individual artists like Peaches as carriers of knowledge about gender and sexuality. In regard to music and resilience, Zisin is very explicit about music having helped them to get through hard times. Zisin’s impressive collection of ways in which music can have a positive impact will hopefully stimulate further research into the likelihood of other young individuals finding similar emotional support and guidance through their engagement with music.

List of works cited

Patricia Gherovici, 'Transgender Psychoanalysis: A Lacanian Perspective on Sexual Difference' (London and NY: Routledge, 2017).

Nevo Zisin, 'Finding Nevo: How I Confused Everyone', Black Dog Books (Newtown, Australia, 2017).

Note: Readers familiar with Lacanian theory might associate P!nk’s mirror function with Lacan’s concept of the mirror stage, in which the child identifies with his or her mirror image and thus creates a body image and a sense of identity. The question whether a music performer or media personality can provide a mirror in the Lacanian sense is worth exploring, but above reference to P!nk’s mirror function is meant to reiterate Zisin’s own comment: ‘I saw myself in her’. Lacan introduces the mirror stage in 'Écrits', ‘The Mirror Stage as Formative of the I Function as Revealed in Psychoanalytic Experience’, pp 75-81. For a discussion of the mirror stage in the context of transgender psychoanalysis, see Patricia Gherovici, 'Transgender Psychoanalysis: A Lacanian Perspective on Sexual Difference' (London and NY: Routledge, 2017), 73-4, 103-5, 119, 164.