Frankie Jean on trans and gender diverse representation in heavy music

Sydney-based heavy-wave trio Five Island Drive’s new single Spite Suicide (ft. Faintly Rumoured) is out now. The song explores the importance of allyship and activism. Vocalist Frankie Jean has written the following piece for us:

I sit down to write this on the precipice of a daunting, yet exciting gender affirming journey. I’ve just organised my first appointment with a specialist who will speak to me about the medical implications of hormone replacement therapy before booking me in to begin my transition. Right now, I have no idea of what to expect entirely or what the future holds, but it has given me pause to consider my past.

I’ve been in the music industry since I was a kid, and in a serious capacity for over a decade now. For the majority of that I’ve performed and resided in the rock and metal scenes in Australia. As I’ve been unpacking a lot of my feelings about my body, my emotions and my identity with my gender therapist (and with a select few friends), it stuns me that this was not more obvious to me from a very young age. A lot of the feelings I have now are feelings I’ve had since I was a teenager, perhaps even earlier. They’re things I joked about regularly, things I loved that other people saw in me, things I hated that other people saw in me, things that made me withdraw from social settings, things that I suppressed to feel included in other social settings. I adopted many traditionally male traits in order to fit into male-dominated groups that felt so unnatural for such a long time that I wondered why I had so much self-loathing for so many years. Those traits then became habit, and even now when those behaviours arise, I have to consciously forgive myself in order not to spiral into further self-loathing.

Why did I do this? It certainly can be attributed to a tumultuous and tough life that I lived from a very young age and a constant stream of early abandonments that would give me enormous fears of being rejected. But that begs the question: what groups was I trying to fit into? I’ve spent so much of my life in music that the majority of my friendships, social circles and personal connections are in that world, especially the rock and metal ones. But I struggled to maintain so many friendships there as I never liked who I was in those circles; it’s a male-dominated music scene, which of course included women, but as someone who identified as male during this time, I struggled to find my place. As hard as I tried, I rarely related to anyone around me, and I hated myself for it. I drank, hoping that my crazy antics would make people want to keep me around, but that of course eventually alienated people further. I attended therapy so many times over the years trying to find the root of the issue, but nothing really worked – at least not long term. Why did I struggle to find a space to fit? What was wrong with me?

You see, none of it was insidious. No one around me was forcing me to be any particular way. I was mocked plenty, sure, but it rarely felt hateful. The problem wasn’t them. The problem wasn’t me. The problem was that I had absolutely no role models, no peers, no concept of anyone in that world who was gender diverse or trans. How could I know even where to begin unpacking my feelings if there weren’t any examples around me to show me some kind of path to the light?

So, I stepped away.

I embarked on a solo journey. In more ways than one. I formed a solo project and left the band I had formed and been in for years. I even left the genre I had spent my entire career in. I had no one to help me, no contacts in this new genre and no idea of how to start from square one in an entirely new world. But I didn’t just embark on a solo journey musically; I removed myself from the scene I’d spent so many years in and decided that I needed to start from square one as a person. Something needed to change; I had nearly lost my life multiple times over the years and ended up as lonely and full of self-loathing as ever. It was tough, but I didn’t realise at the time that it was the change that would undoubtedly save my life.

I met someone in an entirely new world that would change my entire perspective on relationships, gender, sexuality and life itself. And that person introduced me to a community of people who were as diverse as any group I’d ever encountered in my life up to that point. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a journey of self-discovery that was so rapid that I felt like a new person every single day that I rose from my bed.

“Of course I wasn’t straight! I never was! I’d been camming with boys since I was 13!”

“Of course I wasn’t male! I never was! I’d been ostracised from every male group from high school to sports to the social circles I’d drifted through in music!” (Hell, a lot of my formative years and friendships were spent in female-dominated environments, and around strong women).

You’d think that life would become so confusing with all this rapid change, but I’d never felt so much clarity. My history was filled to the brim with confusion, it was like I spoke a language for my entire existence that I didn’t understand until someone handed me a translator. I suddenly understood everything about myself. Heh… well, almost. I’m still on that journey and I’m not sure I’ll ever stop – self-discovery has turned from something I’d feared into one of my favourite aspects of life.

Now, all of this is wonderful for me, sure. I made it here. But I almost didn’t. Many times. I’m still surprised I’m here sometimes. The problem is that so much of this pain and heartache never needed to occur. I could’ve avoided countless toxic situations. I could’ve avoided two separate alcohol addictions. I could’ve maybe even avoided homelessness once or twice. Amidst all this confusion I’ve not been the best person towards others at times, either – which is not an excuse; rather it’s part of a very important point I’m trying to make.

These music scenes are so powerful. They bring people together in ways that is hard to comprehend unless you’ve been encircled by it, like a sea of helping hands after you’ve fallen in a mosh pit. They form identities in a way that you would struggle to find in nearly any other industry. They form ideals and shape activism for entire generations. They have the power to create the most ardent of allies. We’ve already seen a positive progression towards representation amongst cis-women over the past 5 years with festivals being more intentional with their bills and even smaller festivals like UsFest promoting equally-represented lineups. There’s a long way to go, but I’ve lost count of the number of incredible women who are pushing our scene forward and paving the way for everyone.

We’ve seen the power that we can have to include those who are aching to see themselves represented. So, perhaps we can understand the impact we could have by striving for representation for trans and gender diverse people in this scene? Perhaps we could allow a platform for role models that can show a path to the light for anyone out there struggling to love themselves?

Perhaps my past need not be repeated.

Here’s to the future,

With love,

Frankie Jean

…

Following on from their stellar debut release ‘The Record’, Sydney-based heavy-wave group Five Island Drive have followed up with their hard-hitting new single ‘Spite Suicide’ featuring Faintly Rumoured – produced by the band themselves.