Texan fiercely advocated for transgender equality
There were few things Lauryn Farris took more seriously than her work, but that did not stop her from exercising her wry sense of humor.
In 2013, she was one of the leading voices in support of a proposal to prohibit discrimination in San Antonio on the basis of gender identity or sexual orientation.
One day, when hundreds of people signed up to give public comments, Farris stationed herself inside council chambers. From there, she sent a steady stream of texts to activists who had gathered outside, instructing them to remain quiet for speakers who supported the ordinance and make as much noise as they could for those who opposed it, in an attempt to drown them out.
It was one of countless times that Farris, a fierce advocate for transgender equality in San Antonio and Texas, used every tool at her disposal.
Farris died July 27, after suffering a heart attack. She was 65.
As Farris is mourned across Texas, her death is amplifying another recent loss for the LGBTQ community — that of Monica Roberts, 58, another longtime trans advocate and blogger who died of a pulmonary embolism last October in Houston.
Together, they were the matriarchs of the fight for transgender rights in Texas.
Emmett Schelling, executive director of the Transgender Education Network of Texas, who was mentored by both women, said he and others in the LGBTQ community feel “untethered” by the twin losses. They began their advocacy during an era when trans people were far less visible and far less accepted by mainstream culture.
“Without them, the trans movement in Texas would look incredibly different,” Schelling said. “Both of these two women touched people immensely.”
In early 2020, Farris abruptly withdrew from advocacy, and her absence was immediately felt by those who had become accustomed to her work in the public eye. Her son, Mark Farris, said a stroke necessitated prioritizing her health over her work, a situation she found frustrating.
“She didn’t choose to take a step back — she was forced to take a step back,” he said.
Farris began transitioning in the early 2000s, when she was in her 40s. She went on to became a stalwart leader in the movement for trans rights, joining a host of local and statewide organizations dedicated to equality, including TENT, PFLAG San Antonio, Pride Center San Antonio and the Esperanza Peace and Justice Center, among others.
In 2017, Farris was among hundreds of people who descended on the Texas Capitol to protest a series of “bathroom bills” and other legislation advocates feared would harm LGBTQ people.
She spent long days and nights in Austin, at one point giving testimony in the middle of the night. During another hearing, she advocated against legislation that would allow child welfare providers to refuse services or referrals due to religious beliefs.
She was not just fighting for herself but also for those she loved.
Two years earlier, she had adopted Catizia, a trans teenager who had cycled through foster care and periods of homelessness as she searched for a place where she would be accepted for who she was.
She found it with Farris and her family.
Farris also prioritized educating others, drawing from her own life. For many people, she was the first trans person they met, a role she took seriously.
When Diego Bernal met Farris during his tenure as San Antonio’s District 1 council member, their initial discussions centered around policy. It wasn’t long before they became friends, sharing updates about their lives and introducing each other to their families.
It was Farris who laid the foundation for Bernal’s understanding of the complex challenges faced by trans people, and he continued to rely on her guidance when he became a state legislator. She solidified Bernal’s commitment to defending trans children, who he said have become “a seasonal target for Republicans.”
“She taught me so much, not about the political circumstances or even consequences, but the everyday, real-life experience of people whose shoes I don’t walk in,” Bernal said.
Julián Castro, who was mayor when San Antonio’s nondiscrimination ordinance was passed, said Farris was instrumental to its passage. She continued to speak up, enduring jeers during hearings and vitriolic attacks at her home.
“She subjected herself to a lot more harassment and bigotry and abuse than she otherwise might have experienced,” Castro said. “In many ways, she put a target on her back and sacrificed for the benefit of others. All of us owe her a debt of gratitude for doing that, for helping our society to make progress.”
Farris’ advocacy was guided by compassion. But she was also forthright, stubborn and tenacious, unafraid to correct others and voice her disagreements.
“Lauryn sometimes was a misunderstood person by some, because she was firm and because she was sometimes gruff,” said Robert Salcido, executive director of the Pride Center. “Once you got to know Lauryn, you would know it was all heart. It was all for the betterment of our community.”
As tributes poured in online following Farris’ death, her son was surprised by how many posts were by people he had never met or heard her. It was a reminder of the impact she had on so many lives, and that the sacrifices she made — particularly time away from her family — were for an important reason.
“She changed so many people’s hearts and minds,” he said.
Farris and her wife, Kerry, were together for decades, during which they married three times. The second came after a brief period of divorce, the third following Farris’ transition and the legalization of same-sex marriage.
In her own tribute to Farris, Kerry wrote that it was impossible to say goodbye.
“How do you say goodbye to someone you’ve loved for forty years?” she wrote.
“How do you say goodbye to someone who fought for the downtrodden with courage and determination?”
“How do you say goodbye to someone who was always willing to help others, including adopting a teenage girl in need?”
Farris is also survived by another son, Harold Farris, and two grandchildren, Austin and Theo.
Services will not be held, per her wishes. Her family intends to host an outdoor memorial event later this year, to give members of the community a venue to pay their respects.
Farris’ son said she would want people to carry on the pursuit for equality in her stead.
“She would just want people to know that she fought for the community, that she would want others to fight for the community and never let your guard down,” he said.
“It’s never over. There’s always a fight to be fought, and she fought until the end.”