What Trans Representation Feels Like.

Why Squid Game Season 2 has one of my favourite trans characters ever.

Warning: spoilers ahead for Squid Game Season 2.

The end-of-year holidays are a very quiet time for me. My wife and daughter usually travel abroad to visit family and, for reasons I’ve mentioned in other stories, I can’t go with them. While the world keeps buzzing around, and people are running everywhere to attend events, buy gifts or plan trips, I stay home and keep to myself.

During those days, I try to produce and consume as much content as I can, taking advantage of that extra spare time. I write and draw anything that comes to mind, even if it’s bad or incomplete, and I don’t ever plan on making it public. I also read, listen and watch as many books, albums, films and series as I can get my hands on. Good and bad, it doesn’t matter. It’s like a maelstrom of words, lines and sounds.

While procuring material for that vertiginous vortex, I was pleasantly surprised when I learned Squid Game season 2 was releasing on December 26th. I quite enjoyed season 1, and I had no idea they were working on two more seasons. I don’t keep up that much with Netflix, except for these binge-consumption times.

So, I patiently waited a few days, and I went in completely blind. I generally like to read about a show before I watch it, but this one released in such a short time I just didn’t get to it. And, oh, am I glad I did!

Episode one, Bread and Lottery, was ok. It started right where season 1 left and got things rolling right away. Episode two, Halloween Party, was ok too. I feel the whole costume party trope is a bit overplayed, but I was able to overlook it. And then episode three started playing and, at around minute 3:47, it gave me quite a surprise.

The general story in both seasons of Squid Game circles around this secret and heavily guarded location where a group of people is transported to participate in some deadly games and win a lot of money. As one of the guards says, to maintain the “game’s security”, the participants are rendered unconscious before they are brought to that place. Chapter three of this second season begins narrating how they wake up and are flustered to suddenly find themselves there.
There are a few wide shots showing hundreds of people in green and white uniforms coming to on rows of bunk beds to the sound of Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto in E-flat Major. After a few moments, a siren blares, the music stops and a handful of guards in hot pink overalls and black masks enter the room and begin to welcome them, explaining that there will be six games and a handsome cash prize at the end.
At around minute 3:47 one of the participants interrupts the talking guard: “Excuse me!” At this point, it’s only some random player, far away in the back, and every other participant turns around to see who’s talking. Cut to a close-up, and we see someone tall with mid-length bob cut hair and a deep voice, wearing light makeup. The character continues, “you said I’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me.” Wait, I said to myself, is this character trans? I rewinded a few seconds to check the scene again and confirmed that yes, that was the case.
To me, this was out of the blue; I had no idea of the background regarding this episode or character. I needed context, so I paused the episode and looked up what other people were saying.

That day, I spent more time reading about it than watching the actual episode. I am overly wary concerning trans representation in media. My first question was, of course, if the character was played by a trans actor or not. To my major dismay, I found out it was played by a cis man. That really put me off. Why on earth wouldn’t they cast a trans actor if the character was trans? Was this an act of transphobia, internalized or otherwise, that would result in one of those unidimensional, objectivized, tokenized roles I have come to despise? It turned out the director had a fairly good answer, that made evident how LGBTQ+ rights in South Korea are lacking in so many areas. I put that to rest, but I was still on the fence about the writing. I have no patience for transphobic scripts that use gender diverse people as freaks, for shock value, or just to “be cool.”

So, after reading about the actor, the reasons to cast him and some comments online, I kept watching with flaring scepticism. My doubts, however, were put at ease little by little. For starters, I liked the fact that Cho Hyun-ju’s (that is the character’s name) used a very natural voice, not overly modified to be extra feminine; she just spoke using her own voice. She was also portrayed as quite bold from the beginning, enough to interrupt the guard while he was giving his introductory speech. The show then moved on to other things, more characters started to intervene and the plot developed. A short while later, we realize Cho is 330 million won in debt (almost 224,000 USD) for some yet undisclosed reason.

I finally let my guard down after the first game. They were playing Red light — Green light, same as in season 1; anyone who moved when they shouldn’t was shot dead by a sniper. During the game, the fact that Cho is physically large had an active role but, then again, it was not essentialized or used to show her as a freak. It was just a matter-of-fact thing: she was tall and big, so people could hide behind her. That’s it. She went first in her line not because she was a default heroine, but just because her natural body features worked as cover for others in order to help them survive.

As a trans person and activist, one of the main things I fight for is acceptance. However, what I desire the most is obliviousness; people not giving a damn about my identity when I’m outside. Just being one more person on the street, to whom nobody pays much attention. Another human being doing their stuff, and moving along through their life. Not being victimized or looked at as a freak, but also not being seen as some sort of warrior just for deciding to go out. I want to plainly exist as a regular human being, the same as everybody else.

And Squid Game’s Cho had that.

In that violent and aggressive environment she got immersed in, she was just one more player risking her life to overcome financial duress. Her identity was part of who she was, for sure, but it was not her only defining characteristic. It was, actually, quite minor. There were other things about her that were more relevant to the plot and to the other characters.

Of course, the show made it clear that some other participants looked at her weird. There was this short interaction between an old lady and her son, where it was very clear they were both quite ignorant about trans people. However, as ignorant as they were, they were not transphobic. They didn’t understand, but they also didn’t hate. I personally appreciated that small dialogue very much. In the world we live in, so many people are so ignorant regarding trans experiences, issues and lives, but ignorance per se is not the problem. The problem is hate. If people have an open mind and see others as humans, they will recognize that humanity in others and learn from it. And the show made that very clear.

Later on, we learn Cho’s financial debt is related to her transition. She narrates how difficult it is to come out as trans in South Korea, how she lost friends, family and her job, but still dreams of being able to openly live as a woman. At no point is her experience overly dramatized, or her suffering unnecessarily highlighted, but still, when she was talking about all that and how she yearns for freedom and acceptance, I felt a knot in my throat.

In the end, this is what trans representation feels like to me. I was watching a human being, with challenges, faults and dreams. Not a token, not something built to stare at and point, and not something to be in awe of. I am trans, I am big, I have a deep voice, and I have to admit, this is one of those very rare times when I have felt truly represented. I can’t wait to see how things develop in season 3.

I would like to thank Amber Poe for writing her story Squid Games 2 Has A Badass Transwoman In It And I Am Here For It. I was writing a response to it when I noticed it was already five paragraphs long and decided to turn it into this story.

About the author

An expatriate from the ancestral land of the Huetar people. Descendant of the few who survived and the colonizers who enslaved them, murdered them and stole their land, their culture and their name.

If you enjoyed this, you can check my other stories here on transrants.com or on medium.com, or even consider buying my book. Thanks!