Muriel Villanueva: "As the daughter of a lesbian, I grew up knowing that gender is not biological"
Writer and mother of one son, one son and one stepdaughter, Arashi, Ausiàs and Júlia, aged 12, 8 and 8. She has just won the AELC Critics' Award in the youth category and the Samaruc Award for published work for 'El cel de l'aigua' (Sembra). She celebrates 20 years as a writer by publishing her 50th book, 'Capgirades' (Estrella Polar), a fantasy genre story about the relationship between siblings and Maori mythology from New Zealand.
At home we juggle our diverse neurodivergencies -especially high abilities and others too- and this makes us quite wacky artists. Arashi has been focused on manga for a couple of years; he is capable of creating complex stories and well-rounded characters, with very careful drawing technique. Ausiàs has designed about thirty fabric animals that he has cut, stuffed, and sewn, asking for just the right amount of help: "We won't buy you any more stuffed animals, as you won't fit them in the room anymore!"How is your way of being a mother changing?
— Simply, I have learned to tolerate my imperfection and to make my children understand it too. They know that, like them, I am vulnerable, that I can make mistakes and that we can talk about it. Perfection, I suppose, lies in the awareness of imperfection managed with emotional responsibility.
How did Arashi discover their non-binary identity?
— Only he knows this, and to questions about how this happened he replies that there is no reason, that it is like this and that's it. It started as an aesthetic change, a kind of temporary childish pseudonym and finally an explicit confession of identity that admitted no reply.
How have you been able to help in this self-definition process?
— Fortunately, I have constructed my own gender. As the daughter of a lesbian who came out in the 70s, I grew up knowing that gender is not biological but a construction; a privilege in the society of the time. This is, in fact, one of the recurring themes in my work, especially in young adult novels. Every year I talk about gender in educational centers and it is a topic that I have worked on.
What did you observe?
— The suspicion about Arashi's identity was inevitable. He is a very mature person. We were able to talk about it calmly and I accompanied him, without rushing him, until he was able to express it to his family and, more formally, to school. I also helped by offering him professional help; not to clarify his gender, which is not necessary, but to provide resources for this coming out, slow but sure. It was beautiful. His mother thanked me for having him. For him it is a recurring topic of conversation with his friends. In fact, they were the first to accompany Arashi in his coming out process; they knew before I did.
What surprised you?
— No. All adolescents should naturally experience questioning their own gender, even if only to confirm that it matches the one assigned at birth. Simply put, some have a safe space to do so, a space where the debate was already open.
What worries you?
— May they suffer a silent fear of external judgment. The problem is not theirs, but ours as a society not yet fully prepared to stop looking with bewilderment at any deviation from a norm that is becoming outdated.
You have been a teacher. Is the school ready to welcome non-binary students?
— Arashi's teacher has been a key figure. Between strikes and with all that it entails to lead a group that is too full and is finishing primary school, this woman has provided spectacular support so that he would find the easiest possible path ahead. These are Arashi's rights and at the same time a great educational opportunity. Fortunately, gender is discussed in classrooms today, because teachers have always been ahead of any protocol.
Should we be prepared to naturally accept our children's self-definition of gender?
— Absolutely yes. And also to, from home, help them understand and respect any gender expression from any colleague.
What has helped you?
— My mother, the education I received, readings I've done, talks I've attended, responsible films on the subject, the complicity with Arashi's father, respectful and tender friendships and, above all, my current partner, who has embraced the subject as loved ones embrace each other.
What makes you laugh at home?
— There is at home a beloved and misshapen old stuffed polar bear named Castanyamanta. The term has become lexicalized to define, with a compassion between love and ridiculous pity, any object, being, or drawing that presents an imperfection or asymmetry. We say: "It's a bit of a Castanyamanta." And it makes us laugh a lot.