Transgender Arizonans face workplace hurdles
Callan Smith was just beginning his gender transition three years ago when he took a job at a Phoenix-area investor-relations firm.
He hadn’t yet legally changed his name, but he said he was “very upfront” about his wishes: “I told them, ‘This is the name I go by, these are my pronouns, and if you’re going to hire me, this is what it is.’”
A majority of his co-workers respected Smith’s requests, he said — but not his supervisor.
“He was aware of my prior name, and he tended to use it,” said Smith, 47. “Or we’d be on the phone with a client, and a co-worker would gender me properly, and then my boss would get on and use the wrong pronouns. It would create confusion for the client, and it was extremely uncomfortable for me.”
After a year trying to correct the problem, Smith left the company, applying to more than 40 jobs before landing his current marketing position at another firm. There, Smith, a Maricopa resident, has told only his boss that he is transgender. He’s afraid of opening himself up to another tense work environment if more people find out.
Smith’s experiences aren’t an anomaly. Every transgender Arizonan interviewed by The Arizona Republic for this article reported experiencing discrimination in hiring or employment based on their gender identities, as well as fears of being outed and fired at work.
Their stories reflect data from the largest study ever devoted to the lives of transgender people — the 2015 U.S. Transgender
“A lot of people don’t realize that in Arizona, you can still be fired or otherwise flat-out discriminated against based on your sexual orientation or gender identity.” ASHTON SKINNER TRANSGENDER OUTREACH COORDINATOR FOR DIVERSITY-AND-INCLUSION COALITION ONE COMMUNITY
Survey — which found that 16 percent of Arizona respondents were unemployed and 28 percent lived in poverty.
That’s almost three times the 2015 unemployment rate for the Arizona population at large and almost twice the poverty rate, with transgender people of color faring even worse. The study’s Arizona results were released last month.
“Those numbers don’t surprise me at all,” said Ashton Skinner, transgender outreach coordinator for diversity-and-inclusion coalition One Community. “A lot of people don’t realize that in Arizona, you can still be fired or otherwise flatout discriminated against based on your sexual orientation or gender identity.”
Though a handful of Arizona cities have passed anti-discrimination laws that prohibit unfair treatment in the public and private sectors based on those categories, multiple attempts to pass a state law have failed.
“People who’ve had years of good job performance, it’s like suddenly that work doesn’t matter when they begin to transition or are outed as trans,” Skinner said. “And that’s if you get hired at all.”
For some transgender Arizonans, the road to low wages or unemployment begins in grade school.
Roughly 17 percent of survey respondents said they faced so much harassment during their K-12 years that they dropped out before getting a high-school diploma, limiting their employment options.
Transgender people with post-secondary degrees and work experience can face job-hunting obstacles, too. One of the most common is inconsistencies in documentation, such as a mismatch between the name on their job applications and the name on their driver’s licenses, especially if they transitioned later in life.
“Something most (non-transgender) people take for granted is the ability to have ID,” said Mara Keisling, executive director of the National Center for Transgender Equality, the organization behind the survey.
“If your name is Leticia, but your ID document clearly says your name is Marcus, you’re going to have to out yourself as trans to get a job, setting yourself up for discrimination,” she said.
The cost and requirements to change names and genders on driver’s licenses, diplomas, birth certificates and other documents vary widely by state and institution.
Arizona is one of 23 states that require proof of transition surgery before issuing a new birth certificate with a revised name and gender, according to the NCTE. LGBT rights advocates consider the rule a major barrier because not every transgender person can afford or chooses to undergo sex-reassignment operations.
Though Arizona doesn’t require proof of surgery to change the gender on a driver’s license, applicants must submit a doctor’s letter saying they are “irrevocably committed” to a gender transition.
Transgender people seeking to update multiple forms of ID can quickly spend hundreds of dollars on the required fees. Nearly 40 percent of transgender Arizonans who had not changed their legal names or updated their gender on ID documents cited cost as an obstacle in the survey.
Those who have the resources can run into other problems during the application process.
If candidates held jobs before transitioning, past supervisors might out them to managers currently looking to hire them if they’re contacted to provide a work reference. Or if a job application asks about former names for a background check, transgender applicants must either out themselves or risk being disqualified for dishonesty if they don’t disclose a previous name.
“For me, a big part of legally changing my name — which was a nightmare in and of itself — was to step into my new identity and not worry about the old one,” said Olivia McGann, a 27-year-old Chandler resident who transitioned about four years ago. “(Being trans) is not something I would bring up by choice, because of the fear someone would react poorly, but I’m forced to do it on every job application that asks about other names.”
Once transgender applicants land a job, they often fear being outed at work.
Charlie Hill, a 20-year-old Arizona State University student in Tempe, said he left two retail jobs after being outed by customers or co-workers who had known him before he transitioned.
“They would constantly speak on my behalf and mention me being trans to my other co-workers,” Hill said. “And once you’re outed at work ... there’s no way to take a step back. I ended up leaving those jobs because I was sick of dealing with (the fallout).”
Shirley Austin, a 62-year-old Gilbert resident, started transitioning late last year after decades of “carefully guarding” what she felt was her true identity at work.
“The generation I grew up in, men were still being put into mental hospitals for wanting to be a woman,” Austin said. “I always feared being caught and losing everything. After years and years of pretending, you get tired of it.”
After legally changing her name this year, Austin applied for and got the first job that allows her “to be me,” she said. Though she had to submit her previous name for a background check, she said, so far, the fact she is transgender is not an issue.
When hiring managers, employers or co-workers have a problem with someone’s gender identity that leads to that employee’s firing or quitting, the departure can create “a hole in (the employee’s) resume for life, even if it had absolutely nothing to do with performance,” Keisling said.
Employment gaps are generally considered a red flag for potential employers and can contribute to a cycle of unemployment. Nearly a third of transgender Arizonans in the survey reported having been homeless at some point.
Nationally, persistent unemployment and poverty lead one in eight transgender people to turn to “underground economies” such as sex work or selling drugs, according to the National Center for Transgender Equality.
Trudie Jackson, who moved to Phoenix from the Navajo Reservation as a teenager three decades ago, became a sex worker to support herself.
“It was very hard to advance because of my lack of work history, lack of education and then having a criminal record (related to sex work),” she said.
Jackson’s situation has shifted drastically since then: She is close to finishing a master’s degree in American Indian Studies at ASU and has been honored for her community advocacy work and HIV-prevention efforts. But the situation of transgender women moving from reservations to urban areas has not, she said.
“Looking at the survey, I was very disturbed to see that 57 percent of American Indian transgender women have thought of suicide,” she said. “That made me think, ‘Is this because of the barriers that they face in the city trying to make it?’”
LGBT rights advocates see a statewide anti-discrimination law as a critical step in facilitating fair hiring and employment processes for transgender Arizonans. But they acknowledge it could be years before such a measure passes.
In the meantime, they say, there’s plenty that employers and human-resources teams can do to create safer and more comfortable work environments.
“Trainings that help people understand gender identity, and how to treat trans applicants or employees with sensitivity, are a big one,” said Skinner, with One Community. “For a trans person, just knowing your HR department is providing training could be that first step toward feeling comfortable sharing about your transition.”
Advocates also suggest updating data systems and other technical infrastructure to allow transgender employees to use their current names, even if they haven’t changed them legally, to ensure that as few people as possible can see a name that would out an employee.
Skinner pointed to GoDaddy, a Scottsdale-based Web domain and technology provider, as an employer that successfully implemented trans-inclusion efforts in recent years. The company created its own anti-discrimination policy that covers sexual orientation and gender identity as protected classes.
“In addition, we formed an employee resource group called GoDaddy United ... to welcome our employees from the LGBT community,” Katee Van Horn, vice president of engagement and inclusion, said via e-mail. “We also make sure they’re sharing with our leadership team if there’s anything we can do to improve our culture.”
For employees who aren’t sure how to support a co-worker who is transitioning or has come out as a transgender, Skinner says it comes down to respect — for current names, preferred pronouns and the co-worker’s privacy.
Smith, the transgender Maricopa resident who fears coming out at work, said he is “hopeful that as these issues are being aired and more people are starting to have discussions about them, it will help employers be more welcoming and understanding in the future.
“Transgender people just want to be able to do their job and be themselves.”