What life is like as a transgender woman
Every day in public I risk my dignity and safety
The Supreme Court ruling last week that LGBTQ people are protected from employment discrimination under civil rights laws was welcome news, particularly since this is the first time transgender rights have been explicitly codified by the high court.
But there is so much work left to be done that the ruling did not fix. The rights and dignity of transgender people are constantly under attack, not only legally but physically, as we see with continuing violence against trans people, and culturally, as evidenced by the controversy that “Harry Potter” author J.K. Rowling recently stirred up.
Her transphobic remarks attempted to deny the overwhelming medical and scientific consensus affirming trans people and peddled dangerous and hurtful myths about our community. In a rebuttal to the backlash that was riddled with inaccuracies and dangerous propaganda about the trans community, she claimed to know trans people.
It’s hard to believe that. Folks who have trans people in their lives — and actually care about them — know how much trans people generally go out of their way to accommodate cisgender people. Like any community, trans people are not a monolith and our experiences vary, but there are fairly common actions we take just to be in the public square and avoid risking violence and discrimination from cisgender people.
For instance, I haven’t been to the gym since I came out. Most cisgender women would be completely fine with a trans woman using the showers after a workout, but do I want to risk ticking off some random transphobe? No. Do I want to risk having someone take photos of me without my consent? No.
I don’t want to cause a scene
If I’m out in another city, I watch how much I eat and drink. I don’t want to be in a position where I’ll need to use a public restroom and feel uncertain whether it’s safe. When I travel out of state, I look up nondiscrimination protections for where I’m going, including airport layovers. God forbid I have a layover in a state unfriendly to trans people and get assaulted or arrested for using the restroom.
If I’m in Washington, D.C., and there’s a long line to use a public restroom, I usually walk away. I don’t know who’s a tourist from a conservative part of the country. I don’t want to cause a scene or have someone take a photo of me standing in line. I have a membership to a women-only workspace. It’s quite trans-inclusive and makes a point of being affirming. I’m still not going to use its shower facility. Too risky. Some random transphobe makes a fuss, and it becomes a whole thing. Not worth it.
I live in a city that has comprehensive protections for trans people. If I face discrimination, I know that the D.C. government will have my back, but the unspoken part is the labor and mental anguish to go through the process. It’s heartbreaking. Even in places where we have legal protections, I worry about being a burden. I have faced discrimination in places where it was illegal and let it go because I wasn’t sure whether it was worth it. And I feel terrible about that. I feel guilty.
Transgender and nonbinary people are constantly adjusting and revolving our lives around the preferences and feelings of cisgender people, not because we want to but because there are not enough hours in the day to fight every battle and not enough rights to guarantee our safety.
And I have a considerable amount of privilege. I’m white, able bodied, doing OK financially and not a religious minority. Imagine what it’s like for Black and brown transgender and nonbinary folks. Or trans people who have physical disabilities or severe health issues or lack a steady income, or are religious minorities or sex workers or homeless.
Walking mirrors of insecurity
I am incredibly sorry that J.K. Rowling experienced sexual abuse. I really am. Last year, I was sexually assaulted by a cisgender, heterosexual man in a public space. He groped me, and I was so shocked that I didn’t know what to do. Because who’s going to believe me? I didn’t report him.
According to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey, nearly half of trans people will experience sexual assault in our lifetimes. Almost 60% have experienced mistreatment by police. About the same percent say they don’t feel comfortable calling the police for help.
Not a week has gone by since I came out that I wasn’t street harassed. I don’t even talk about it anymore. I expect it and move on with my day. Put my headphones in and walk, to avoid hearing it.
There are videos of men beating the s--t out of trans women that go viral. Our murders are considered insignificant. Our bodies are sexualized. We are walking mirrors for the deepest insecurities of cisgender people.
So when J.K. Rowling says she knows and loves trans people, I don’t buy it. If she did know trans people on the level that would grant understanding, she would understand how much of our lives we spend trying to avoid compromising our safety and dignity simply for the act of existing outside our front doors.
Last week’s court ruling won’t stop people like J.K. Rowling from claiming to know us from such a clear position of ignorance about our daily lives. But maybe in time, and with more court rulings and legislation that affirm our rights and dignity, that will change.