When I was 15, I sat inches from the TV in the family lounge room. The glow from the old CRT monitor lit my face up as I nervously turned the volume down even lower so it was barely audible, even from this distance. With many nervous glances around, I watched myself being represented in the media for the first time… it was 2004, and The L Word season 1 was airing.
Many young sapphics had very similar L Word experiences growing up. Clandestine meetings between us and our TVs, raptured by the idea that a show like this was even allowed to exist. We can look back at the original L Word now and laugh, cringe and rightfully point out just how problematic it was. And we should because rewatching the original L Word is an extreme sport of cringe. But if you grew up a little butch girl, staring at your TV late at night, searching for yourself amongst the pixels, who did you get? Shane. Shane was all I got.
For years, Shane is what I thought it meant to be masculine presenting. And let me tell you, having Shane as your role model growing up was not amazing. Original series Shane can be charitably described as a loveable mess, and more accurately described as a toxic tornado of lust and bad choices.
The top three most messed up things Shane did was:
1) had sex with a bride on her wedding day. After having already banged all the bridesmaids.
2) cheated on Carmen, then left her at the altar.
3) fucked with Jenny. JENNY! Unforgivable.
This was meant to be my hero? Growing up I was really bad at being Shane, and that made me feel like I was bad at being a masc lesbian. See, despite my dashing good looks and impeccable dress sense, it will surprise you to know that I was a bit of a nerd. Pause for gasps of shock.
Shane became a very weird and important part of my life, even though I was nothing like her. When I started going out, and a femme girl wanted me to know she was queer, she would often open with the line, “Has anyone ever told you you look like Shane?” This was code for, ‘I know who Shane is, so I’ve watched the L word, which is a gay thing to do.’
Subtle.
The Shane Effect (™, but actually not trademarked) doesn’t just affect the way butch girls see ourselves but also the way our femme community sees us. I’ve lost count of the amount of times girls just assume I’m a player because of the way I look. My history of serial monogamy is always treated with sceptical curiosity. Fuckboi status is the default presumption if you present more masc.
So what is the solution to the Shane Effect (™)? It’s really simple… give the WLW community more role models. Especially more positive masc presenting role models. Shane being a dumpster fire wouldn’t be an issue if she was only one of a range of people that represented me growing up.
Importantly though, we need real-life role models. Let’s not wait for Hollywood to get it right. Let’s be better Shane’s for the next generation. Don’t worry – that bar is pretty low.
JESSIE LEWTHWAITE (she/her) is the Rainbow Inclusion Manager at Auckland University of Technology (AUT). She is also the Technology Manager on the Rainbow NZ Charitable Trust Board. Jessie splits her time between trying to complete a Masters Degree in Human Rights and playing video games. She loves all things nerdy and can be easily bribed with gin.
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