Who is She?

Gender Identity and Discrimination

Via Andrew Sullivan, for whom I'll grant a few cheers after previously dunning him for his attitude regarding trans issues, Kate Sheppard explains why ENDA has to include protections for gender identity in order to really have any effect on anyone.

But when it comes down to it, most of the discrimination directed at the LGBT community is based not on actual knowledge that someone’s sexual orientation is something other than heterosexual, or seeing direct evidence thereof, but on the suspicion that one might be. That suspicion comes from assumptions about how men and women should speak, interact with others, groom themselves, or dress—all of which falls solidly in the gender identity and expression realm. If gender identity is excluded from ENDA, the protections for gays, lesbians, and bisexuals aren’t actually guaranteed, as a detailed examination of the legislation conducted by Lambda Legal concluded. The original version of the bill defined "gender identity" as "gender-related identity, appearance, or mannerisms or other gender-related characteristics of an individual." Without that protection, employees can still be fired for not conforming to an employer’s ideas about how men or women should present themselves. For a lot of gay men and lesbians, that protection is key. To be effective, the bill needs to be about protecting everyone—women who don’t wear heels, men who do, anyone who doesn’t fit their gender stereotype, and those who actually identify with a gender other than their biological sex.

I confess to still being uncertain about employment nondiscrimination laws, not because I think discrimination is in any way a good thing (particularly as, in this case, I have a great deal to gain or lose from the inclusion of gender identity in the bill), but because it's easy for government to protect popular freedoms. But the real purpose of government, as far as I am concerned, is to protect less popular rights. See, for example, the right for Nazis to march in Skokie. Freedoms only really mean anything if people can do things that the majority prefers they did not.

On the other hand, the freedom to discriminate in employment doesn't strike me as a particularly fundamental right, slippery slope arguments aside. More importantly, I'm a practical woman, and this particular dam long since burst. As long as the government is going to protect people from employment discrimination, there is absolutely no reason why everyone shouldn't benefit from those protections, including those of us whose expression of gender identity doesn't fit neatly into the two boxes society provides.

Day of Remembrance

Transgendered persons get to deal with a lot of fun issues in life. Very few people understand us, and perhaps only a few more are willing to accept our right to be ourselves. We face discrimination in housing, employment, health care...the list goes on and on. But those things pale next to our risk of dying because of who we are. Far too many 'normals' can't restrict themselves from being disgusted by our lives and have to take action, that action usually involving violence intended, presumably, to demonstrate their own masculinity.

The Transgender Day of Remembrance is a day taken to remember the victims of anti-trans violence and to highlight the problems transgendered people face in simply trying to live their lives. I'm not sure just how more likely transgender people are to face violence than non-transgender people, but while I am always skeptical of numbers provided by any advocacy group, it seems indisputable to me that men and women who don't meet society's narrow vision of gender norms are far more likely to face physical violence. People, as a rule, don't like hearing that gender and sexuality exist along a continuum, I suspect because that's an issue that hits too close to home for them. And so, as humans are wont to do, they lash out at whatever makes them uncomfortable.

I'm not asking people to understand me. I'm not even asking them not to feel uncomfortable around me. I'm different, and I understand that different makes people uncomfortable. All I'm asking is that people not physically injure me because of it. That doesn't really seem like too much to ask.

Suicide Isn't Painless

Yesterday was the 9th Annual Survivors of Suicide Remembrance Day. This has a particular resonance for transgendered people.

It is exceedingly common to transgendered people to attempt suicide at some point in their lives. The emotional stresses of living as one gender while being another can be tremendously difficult to bear, even if the person doesn't even realize she's transgendered. There is no way to know how many of them are successful, but I do not think it is exaggerating to say that even one successful suicide attempt is a tragedy.

No matter how painful things get, committing suicide will not end the pain. It may end your pain...but John Donne was correct when he observed that no man is an island. With your death begins a lifetime of pain for everyone you know. Your family and your friends will all have to live with the knowledge that they failed to stop you for the rest of their lives. Try to imagine living with that kind of pain every day for the rest of your life. Try to imagine having to wonder what you could have done differently. Try to imagine carrying that burden of guilt around for the rest of your life. Do you really want to place that burden on your loved ones?

I know how much a person can want to die. I have those thoughts regularly. And in my current position, it would be all too easy to accomplish. But I know how much pain that would cause to the people I love, and that knowledge stays my hand every time. I don't know if my life will ever get any better. I hope that it will, of course, and I certainly have a better chance than some. I don't mean to belittle the situations that many of my transsexual sisters and brothers find themselves in; the world is an unkind place for us. But suicide won't solve those problems. Yes, for the person who kills herself, her problems are over, but she has simply gifted many new problems to everyone else she knows. It's just not worth it.

There are resources out there. Laura's Playground has a chat room specifically for transgendered people who may be considering suicide. In the U.S., you can call the suicide prevention hotline at any hour at (800) 273-TALK (8255). There are many, many organizations out there interested in helping people thinking about suicide. Please...take advantage of them. Our community is too small already to lose anyone.

Payback

As I suspect a lot of us do, I have done some research into potential surgeons for my hoped-for gender reassignment surgery. This operation is probably the most well-known and least understood aspects of transsexualism, and I'm not going to get into it right now except to say that, for me, it will be an important step on my road to gaining congruence between my mind and my body.

One of the doctors I looked into lives in Trinidad, Colorado, which is well-known as a transsexual Mecca. I have been there myself, and I recall laughing at jokes about the rumors of sex change operations that theoretically help to drive the town's economy, to my shame. Trinidad gained this reputation in no small part thanks to Dr. Stanley Biber, who began performing gender reassignment surgery in 1969 and kept on doing so until 2003, at which time he gave up his practice. Other surgeons have taken up his mantle now, and it is still a popular destination for women like me. In fact, the web site for the surgeon I was looking at mentions specifically that post-operative women should take the time to visit the Trinidad Social Security office to legally change their gender, because the Trinidad office has a great deal of experience with the process and is likely to do a better job than an Social Security office in your home town.

If I someday am able to take advantage of Trinidad's expertise, I will be availing myself of a service made possible by the many thousands to transsexual women who have gone before me, enduring ridicule of all kinds simply because they wanted to live their lives as themselves, and not as society wanted them to live. And if I am able to profit from the hard work of those who have gone before me, it is difficult for me not to think that perhaps I owe something to the transsexuals who come after me as well.

I am not suggesting that transsexuals have any responsibility to become activists for our cause. The pain and ridicule we all endure as part and parcel of our condition is a heavy enough burden to bear without having to feel the need to go out and add to it. I do not blame any transsexual who, having completed his or her transition (yes, there are many men out there who were born as biological women...it's not a one-way street, despite the assumptions the media often seems to make), decides to settle down and focus on living his or her own life. With the constant question of passing never too far from most of our minds, requiring anyone to give up that hard-earned anonymity would be unfair.

But there are still tens of thousands, or more, of us out there who have no idea who or what we are, who are struggling with our identities in a world that is extremely unfriendly to us. If some of us do not speak up, what will become of them? Some will commit suicide, unable to deal with the conflict between their bodies and minds. Some will live out their lives never knowing why they are unhappy, only knowing that there is something, somehow, wrong with them. And some will be fortunate enough to stumble across the truth about themselves, sooner or later, and with the help of a few friends, or perhaps alone, they will make their way through their new life, where they will have to deal with the many other threats we face: employment discrimination, legal and medical issues designed to deal with only two genders, and the ongoing threat of violence from people who feel that they must destroy that which makes them uncomfortable. Those issues will not go away without effort.

I face a particularly difficult situation myself: my employer, the United States military, does not permit us to serve, at least, not openly. If I hide myself, the military will permit me to stay on, but if I stand up and choose to try and live my life as me, I will be removed from the service as quickly as possible. If I am lucky, I might be permitted an honorable discharge for my service, as if that were a special gift for me, ignoring the fact my service has been quite honorable indeed. While transsexualism is not at all the same as being gay or lesbian, we all face a choice: be ourselves, and don't serve, or live a lie and keep our jobs. I should hope that common decency might suggest to most people that this policy is unjust.

If it were permitted, I could easily continue to serve my country during and after my transition. Although I have served in the combat arms community, very few of the jobs I have had have actually required me to be biologically male. For most of my career, I could have done the same work with the same results even if I had been the woman I am inside. And the military offers many other jobs I could continue to do, if they would let me. Especially in a time of war, what profit is there in the military excluding me from continue service simply because my external gender changes to match my mental gender? Is it just a concern that I will make people uncomfortable? Having served in a combat zone, I'll note only that I think that people who can't handle being around a transsexual are not likely to be good candidates to handle life-threatening stressors like combat.

And so it is I find myself wondering if I might not do all of us a favor by not hiding who I am, but by embracing it. I don't fool myself into thinking that I might somehow change the military's policy on transsexuals by fighting it. If I come out publicly, I will endure a great deal of stress and pain on my way to the same destination: discharge. And yet, in the course of the fight, I just might raise a little awareness of just how foolish and shortsighted this policy is, and what some of the costs of it are. It would not change my situation, but it might change a few attitudes for the better if I did it. I can't change the world; but I might be able to change a few minds, and that doesn't seem like a small thing. The world doesn't change at once, after all. It changes one mind at a time.

The only question is, what would be the price I might pay, and my family might pay, if I were to go that route?

The Long, Bumpy Road

When I first realized I was transgendered, it was a wonderful feeling. That probably sounds odd, but it is the truth. For my entire life, I had known that there was something wrong with me. I couldn't put my finger on it, precisely, but I knew it was there, looming in the background, always undermining whatever I did, a nagging voice in the back of my mind that told me that no matter what I did, I'd still be a failure. To have that influence exposed for what it was, my mind's way of telling me that I was living in the wrong body, was a tremendous relief. For at least a week or so after I came out to myself, I was almost euphoric, accepting myself for who I was.

That doesn't last. Realizing who I am was important, but given my situation, it also presented me with a host of issues. How will my wife react? My family? What do I do about my career in the military? Do I try to make it to 20 years so I can secure a pension, or do I get out as soon as I can so I can transition sooner? If I do get out early, would I be able to find other work to help me pay for my transition? And when can I transition, anyhow? As I suspect most transsexuals do, I feel a strong desire to start transitioning as quickly as reasonably possible. I'm not getting any younger. I probably have 30-40 years of life left, and I would prefer to spend as many of them as possible as Kaija. But the obstacles to actually reaching that point are pretty stiff. So the initial euphoria has faded and been replaced with waves of depression.

I have never been diagnosed as depressive, but there is some history of depression in my family, so I have always been somewhat prone to depression. This sensation is made worse, I believe, by the realities of my situation. It would be nice if, knowing that I am female at heart, all that I need to do now is to take steps to bring my body into keeping with my mind. But that is not as simple as it sounds. Even if I could count on the support of my family and my work, transition is not an easy process. I have lived my entire life as a man; there are so many habits and thoughts I have to unlearn, and so many other things I have to learn, it can be overwhelming at times. Add to that the enforced eight month wait until I can do anything concrete, and despair is rarely far from my mind.

Thankfully, I have a good therapist and a few good friends who have put up with my mood swings through all this. I shudder to think what else we will all have to endure before this is all over.

Veterans' Day

"I cannot stand and sing the anthem. I cannot salute the flag. I know that I am a black man in a white world. I never had it made."

Jackie Robinson*

On Veteran's Day, it's hard not empathize with that sentiment as a transgendered soldier. Americans are quick to embrace soldiers in general; I have had at least four meals bought and paid for by complete strangers just because I was eating in uniform and they wanted to do something to express their appreciation, in each case anonymously, and I can't count the number of times I have been out in uniform and a complete stranger has stopped me to thank me for my service.

But I know that love is highly conditional. Americans are happy to have me in Iraq risking my life for this mission as long as I fit into traditional gender roles. But if I were to come out and tell the world who I really am, that love would vanish in a heartbeat. The military considers being transgendered a deviant condition that renders one unfit to serve. Were I to come out, I would be discharged, probably not even receiving an honorable discharge for my decades of service. I certainly would not be permitted to continue my service while I transitioned, even though the military is already short on officers and I have plenty left to offer my country.

No thanks, says my country. We want your service, but not at the cost of recognizing who you are. We'd rather do without than have to face any threats to our notions of gender.

It's a good thing to fight for the rights of others. But sometimes I'd like to know when I get to fight for my own.

* No, I'm not trying to appropriate Jackie Robinson for the transgendered cause, nor to suggest that what TGs face is the same as what blacks had to and have to deal with in America every day. But I can sympathize with what Robinson was saying when he alluded to the pain he had to deal with every day of his life in spite of his great accomplishments.

Communities

I guess Andrew Sullivan is just on a roll this week. Following up his delightful observation that all minorities are now protected against employment discrimination, Sullivan now has taken it upon himself to explain why it is us transsexuals aren't really part of the LBG community, borrowing this lovely quote from someone named Rex Wockner:

I've been sitting here sort of picking my own brain and asking myself if gay and trans people do in fact have some crucial thing in common. I've read tons of opinion pieces and blog posts on the ENDA war in recent weeks, but none of them really opened my eyes. What do I have in common with a guy who wants to remove his willy, grow breasts, become a woman and get married to a man? From where did this relatively new concept of "the LGBT community" come?

This may be a mystery to gays who tend to still appear generally masculine, but to any effeminate gay man or butch lesbian, the parallels are quite real. Gender expression falls into many categories, and for anyone whose methods don't fit neatly into the male-female dichotomy, they can expect a lot of social intolerance. Of course, all gays face varying degrees of intolerance, but transgendered persons and non-gender normative gays face very similar issues, and both will still face employment discrimination if the current version of ENDA is passed into law.

It would be nice to think that, since both the GLB and TG communities face a great deal of intolerance from society, we might do a better job of understanding one another. But prejudice is a strong force, and just because you've been subjected to it doesn't mean you can't apply it just as well. Transwomen like me get to deal with issues like not being eligible for treatment at some rape crisis centers because we're not 'real women.' Gays like Andrew and Rex think we're just weirdoes who want to get our genitals snipped. And plenty of heterosexuals think we're just trying to find a way to sneak into the ladies room.

Maybe I don't have much in common with the Andrew Sullivans of the world. I certainly can't speak to what his experiences may have been. But I can't help but wonder if the kind of hell that I have gone through wondering what is wrong with me because I never felt like a man despite my body isn't in many ways similar to the struggles gays go through as they wonder why they don't feel attracted to the opposite sex. And I think it's a shame Sullivan has never even considered that possibility.

Thanks, Andrew

There is good news: ENDA has passed the House, creating the possibility that gays, lesbians, and bisexuals will receive some protection against discrimination in employment. That's a really good thing. Whatever I may think about the appropriateness of such legislation, the idea people could lose their jobs simply because of their sexual preference is abhorrent. Unfortunately, ENDA did not include any protections for transgenders, because the votes just weren't there.

That was expected. Politics is the art of the possible, and it just wasn't realistic to expect people to accept the idea of extending 'special' protections to us oddballs. LBG culture is slowly making inroads into the mainstream, after decades of hard work, but TG culture remains largely misunderstood. Let me pause here to note that I am far from an expert on TG culture, having only recently come out to myself, so my thoughts here are based strictly on my own assumptions which are undoubtedly flawed in many respects. That having been said, I think that TGs are hidden in no small part because we would prefer it that way. When I have finished the technical aspects of transition, I don't want to be known as 'the woman who used to be a man,' I want to be known just as Kaija. Getting involved in activism is just asking the crazies of the world to come down on your head and 'expose' you as the freak they perceive you to be. Fair or not, trans men and women are rarely seen as 'real' members of their chosen gender, and as such I suspect would prefer to focus attention on who they are rather than who they were. If we're going to convince people that there's more to us than bad movies, we're going to have to take a lot more risks by stepping into the limelight and accepting it's often-unpleasant glare, and we're not there yet.

Having said that, it's more than a little annoying when Andrew Sullivan, prominent columnist who happens to be gay, hails the passage of ENDA by noting that "every other minority is federally protected from discrimination in employment". Actually, Andrew, that's not true at all, since trans persons were intentionally omitted from the bill, something that was hardly kept secret in the news. It is more than a little frustrating when someone who ought to understand how easily minorities can be swept out of sight does so himself.

Where You Stand...

It's an old saw: where you stand depends on where you sit. But like so many cliches, it is born of certain basic truths. Case in point: I have leaned to the right, using the conventional and highly-imprecise left-right axis of American politics, my entire life. I have never felt any particular affinity for any political party, particularly the two major parties, as they both seem to want entirely too much control over my personal life for my taste. And government interventions are something I think happen entirely too often, at least for my tastes.

Then I realized I was transgendered, and there's a piece of legislation that bears on my situation pretty directly: the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. ENDA would, under its original form, make it illegal to discriminate against people based on their sexual preference or identity. I say under its original form because the current bill would only protect gays, lesbians, and bisexuals, leaving us oddball transgendered persons out in the cold. Congressman Barney Frank, one of the leaders behind the bill, says the bill just doesn't have the votes with transgendered persons included, and so it appears that it will come to the floor without us. E.J. Graff explains why that's a problem far better than I ever could.

It will come as no surprise to most people to learn that gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered persons all face this kind of thing not infrequently. I can certainly sympathize with the discomfort people might feel specifically with me while I transition, once I do; it's tough when Joe becomes Jane or vice versa, no matter how much you may care about that person or how open-minded you are. But I don't think anyone ought to be fired because I'm changing my physical form to better match my identity, unless it raises an issue of the person no longer being able to do their job. Although it's hard to think of many places where this would, in fact, be an issue.

Of course, it is the case in my current line of work, since the military still bars women from service in the combat arms. (Ha, ha, she laughed...or so they think!) Of course, I could easily transfer to a branch that does permit females, to avoid that particular problem, except that the U.S. military bars anyone transgendered from service. Indeed, the military's concerns with simply defined gender extends so far that you cannot serve even if you have already transitioned, or if you simply had the misfortune to have an abnormality of the genitalia that was corrected when you were a child. In any case, as long as I am serving, transition must remain a pipe dream, as being transgendered is considered a disorder worthy of throwing people out of the service.

Still, once I leave the service, I would like to be able to find a job and not have to worry about losing it when I do begin my transition. So this bill strikes to my very core, especially since transition is not cheap and I'm going to need a source of income to cover its not-inconsiderable costs.

Conversely, while I am not remotely sympathetic to the arguments of those who claim that being transgendered somehow offends their religious or moral sensibilities, I do have some sympathy for those who cite the first amendment to the Constitution, which states that "Congress shall make no law respecting [...] the right of the people peaceably to assemble". If you run a business and choose not to hire or do business with certain people, it seems to me that falls under that amendment, even if I think you're morally reprehensible for doing so. That is a pretty basic freedom, after all, and removing it from people should not be a small thing.

I'm running out of hands here, but I think this is a complex issue. Making employment and service protected by the first amendment would mean that a large number of civil rights issues might be still worse today than they already are. I would not care to live in the America of the 1950s, where blacks might be beaten or killed for the 'crime' of wanting to be able to use the same restrooms and sit at the same counters as whites. And refusing to give someone a job simply because of their color or gender or identity strikes me as not just stupid, but wrong.

Of course, it is easy for me to say all that when I am now the one likely to face that kind of discrimination. Am I just rationalizing? I don't believe so; but I never really examined the issue in depth before. I tend towards pragmatism when possible, and there seemed little point in arguing a constitutional point when the courts had already decided it wouldn't apply. Not to mention the unpleasant fact of American politics: if your politics are seen as in any way right-wing, there are plenty of people who will seek out every opportunity to brand you as racist.

Now, however, the question seems more relevant, because it stands to benefit me directly. If the the more expansive version of ENDA passes, I can leave the military and find a job without having to fear that I'll lose it when I start to transition. This bill therefore has the potential to have a pretty big effect on my life. It therefore seems only right that I take a closer look at whether or not it is justifiable before supporting or opposing it. Not that I really expect my support or lack thereof to make a difference, but it is the principle of the thing.

Does freedom of assembly include the right to hire or serve whomever you choose? It seems to me that it does; while the act seems more likely to have been included to protect people who came together for political purposes, telling a person that they have to hire or serve someone they don't want anything to do with, no matter how disgusting that desire may be, is a pretty major restriction on their freedom. And yet...there seems something profoundly wrong about allowing businesses to simply tell people they won't accept their business because of who they are.

Ultimately, I think the problem I run into with this is a problem that many of us have with the law in general. The law very often doesn't lead where we want it to go. When that happens, there are many options, but it seems to me that more and more often the one we choose is to somehow alter the law, either via legislation or through jurisprudence, to make its outcomes fit with our particular ideal of justice. This falls under that rubric: it is clear to me that it is wrong to discriminate on the basic of things people cannot control, such as gender, ethnicity, or sexual preference. But there are a lot of things that are wrong that are not and should not be illegal. I'm not prepared to say this is one of those, but as I noted above, it's hard to be certain of my motives given my position. It is a difficult question.

I urge those of you who don't necessarily have the same conflict of interest to take a look at the issue and draw your own conclusions.

Small Steps

My current situation makes it difficult for me to do many things towards transition. Were I to begin any open steps towards transition, it would cost me my job. Since I've done 15 of 20 years required to lock in a lifetime pension, that would be costly. Although still tempting, as the thought of having to wait five more years to transition isn't a happy one. But I have to be practical, as I may well have trouble finding work during and after transition, since it's perfectly legal to discriminate against transgendered persons, so I'd best have at least some income locked in before I set myself up in that way.

But that means that, in many ways, I'm in a holding pattern, trapped in a body that doesn't seem right, being treated in ways wholly incorrect for the way I see myself. It is an annoying weight to carry around, as there are many situations every day during which people treat me as a man, and it's difficult not to speak up.

Fortunately, there is one thing I can do to move me in the right direction: therapy. In order to be approved for Gender Reassignment Therapy, you generally need the approval of two therapists. This is at once logical and maddening. On the one hand, this isn't the kind of thing people should do without thinking about it a lot. After all, you're talking about a pretty significant life change. It's understandable doctors don't want people to undergo it without being pretty darn sure they should. Conversely, for someone like me who has been living with this for close to 40 years, the knowledge I now have to convince two complete strangers that, yes, this is really the right thing for me is a bit frustrating. Nonetheless, that is the road I've got to travel if I don't want to go black market, so I'm better off trying to deal with it than wasting energy worrying about it.

My employer will provide access to therapy, but those therapists would be bound to tell my employer I was transgendered, so using them is right out. I thought that would mean I'd have to wait to try therapy, but it turns out that there are some therapists who offer online therapy. I'm not going to pretend that online therapy is likely to be nearly as effective as face-to-face meetings, but given that my options are not between traditional and online therapy, but online therapy or no therapy, online suddenly seems like a reasonable option.

So, after an appropriate amount of searching the internet for therapists who appeared to have the appropriate experience with transgender issues and whose credentials appeared to be in order, I settled on a therapist and set up a meeting with her for last Friday. Hiccups with my internet service nearly prevented me from making my appointment; internet service in my current location is often intermittent. But things worked out and I was able to get online for my first appointment.

The therapy itself went reasonably well. I don't know if it is necessarily something I need from the standpoint of being in some way unhealthy, but it was certainly nice to talk to someone who has some experience in the field and who, when you mention something that has seemed odd your whole life, says that yes, that's actually not atypical for transgendered people. Not that I want to live my life in the footsteps of others necessarily, but when you've lived your whole life thinking that there was something wrong with you, it's nice to hear that, at a minimum, that 'wrongness' is shared by other people. We are social animals, after all. From that standpoint alone, I think that the therapy will be helpful.