I entered the field of clinical psychology with the goal of practicing therapy as a form of social justice and working to right the wrongs the field of psychology has historically committed against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people. I suppose I assumed that as a queer woman and a trans ally, I’d be able to stay true to my personal ethics and avoid participating in the field of psychology as an institution of social control. But I found myself facing the complexities and challenges of attempting to effect change from within a system that has the power to marginalize, pathologize, and ultimately diagnose difference.
I felt this most sharply in psychology’s response to gender variance, and as I considered my available avenues as a clinician and qualitative researcher, I quickly became frustrated with my options. Claiming to be an expert on an experience outside of my own seemed like part of the problem, not part of the solution.
I looked to my community for inspiration, and repeatedly came back to three San Francisco-based events: The Frameline International Film Festival; the Fresh Meat Festival; and the National Queer Arts Festival, all of which showcased the creative and intellectual expressions of a tremendously broad spectrum of LGBTQQI people. Year after year, I left these events feeling mirrored, validated, informed, and influenced. I believe that one of the best ways to understand human experience is to bear witness to the stories of the people who live that experience.
As I reflected on my participation in these events and considered my role as a psychologist, a researcher, and a community member, documentary film emerged as an ideal medium to highlight the voices of transgender, transsexual, genderqueer, and gender variant people and honor their position as experts on their own experience in their own words and images.
My search for participants was fairly straightforward: I looked for individuals from diverse backgrounds who were skilled at using their personal experience as a teaching tool, without knowing much about their thoughts or feelings about the GID diagnosis before filming began. I created interview questions in consultation with the National Center of Excellence for Transgender Health, which I then pilot tested with a small group of participants who provided feedback on the style and content of questions.
One unique aspect of Diagnosing Difference is that the narrative structure of the film was driven by what emerged in the interviews themselves, and was not shaped by a pre-conceived outcome or agenda. It’s hard to create a film about the impact of the GID diagnosis on trans lives without inadvertently replicating the fallacy that trans people exist primarily in relationship to medicalization or medical status. This film offers insight into some of the personal experiences, thoughts, and feelings of the participants. It does not and could not claim to speak for the experiences of all trans-identified people. It is my hope that Diagnosing Difference starts conversations rather than finishes them, and that it offers a vivid, humanizing, critical, and moving examination of the GID diagnosis that is both educational and experiential.
Annalise Ophelian, May 2009, San Francisco
I felt this most sharply in psychology’s response to gender variance, and as I considered my available avenues as a clinician and qualitative researcher, I quickly became frustrated with my options. Claiming to be an expert on an experience outside of my own seemed like part of the problem, not part of the solution.
I looked to my community for inspiration, and repeatedly came back to three San Francisco-based events: The Frameline International Film Festival; the Fresh Meat Festival; and the National Queer Arts Festival, all of which showcased the creative and intellectual expressions of a tremendously broad spectrum of LGBTQQI people. Year after year, I left these events feeling mirrored, validated, informed, and influenced. I believe that one of the best ways to understand human experience is to bear witness to the stories of the people who live that experience.
As I reflected on my participation in these events and considered my role as a psychologist, a researcher, and a community member, documentary film emerged as an ideal medium to highlight the voices of transgender, transsexual, genderqueer, and gender variant people and honor their position as experts on their own experience in their own words and images.
My search for participants was fairly straightforward: I looked for individuals from diverse backgrounds who were skilled at using their personal experience as a teaching tool, without knowing much about their thoughts or feelings about the GID diagnosis before filming began. I created interview questions in consultation with the National Center of Excellence for Transgender Health, which I then pilot tested with a small group of participants who provided feedback on the style and content of questions.
One unique aspect of Diagnosing Difference is that the narrative structure of the film was driven by what emerged in the interviews themselves, and was not shaped by a pre-conceived outcome or agenda. It’s hard to create a film about the impact of the GID diagnosis on trans lives without inadvertently replicating the fallacy that trans people exist primarily in relationship to medicalization or medical status. This film offers insight into some of the personal experiences, thoughts, and feelings of the participants. It does not and could not claim to speak for the experiences of all trans-identified people. It is my hope that Diagnosing Difference starts conversations rather than finishes them, and that it offers a vivid, humanizing, critical, and moving examination of the GID diagnosis that is both educational and experiential.
Annalise Ophelian, May 2009, San Francisco