How to talk and listen to transgender people Jackson Bird
Hi, I’m Jack,
and I’m transgender.
Let me take a guess at some of thoughts
that might be running
through your head right now.
“Transgender?
Wait, does that mean that they’re
actually a man or actually a woman?”
“I wonder if he’s had the surgery yet …
Oh, now I’m looking at his crotch.
Look to the right,
that’s a safe place to look.”
“Yes, I knew it!
No real man has hips like those.”
“My friend’s daughter is transgender –
I wonder if they know each other.”
“Oh my gosh, he is so brave.
I would totally support his right
to use the men’s bathroom.
Wait, but how does he use the bathroom?
How does he have sex?”
OK, OK, let’s stop
those hypothetical questions
before we get too close for my comfort.
I mean, don’t get me wrong,
I did come here today to share
my personal experiences being transgender,
but I did not wake up this morning
wanting to tell an entire audience
about my sex life.
Of course, that’s the problem
with being trans, right?
People are pretty much always
wondering how we have sex
and what kind of equipment
we’re working with below the belt.
Being trans is awkward.
And not just because the gender
I was assigned at birth
mismatches the one I really am.
Being trans is awkward
because everyone else gets awkward
when they’re around me.
People who support me and all other
trans people wholeheartedly
are often so scared to say to wrong thing,
so embarrassed to not know
what they think they should,
that they never ask.
Part of what was so nerve-racking
about coming out as transgender
was knowing that people
wouldn’t know what I meant.
And when someone comes out as gay,
people know what that means,
but when you come out as trans,
you have to face the misconceptions
that will color other people’s
impressions of you
even after you’ve educated them …
And you will have to educate them.
When I came out,
I wrote at 10-page encyclopedic document
with a zip-file attachment
of music and videos
that I sent to every
single person I came out to.
(Laughter)
And I kept it in my email signature
for months afterwards,
because you also
don’t ever stop coming out.
I came out to the accountant
helping me with my taxes
and the TSA agents who didn’t know
which one of them should pat me down,
the man or the woman.
I mean, I just came out
to everyone watching this.
When I came out to my dad,
to my great relief, he was totally cool
with me being trans,
but as soon as I started talking
about physically transitioning,
he freaked.
And I quickly realized it was because he,
like so many other people,
think that physical transition
means just one thing:
the surgery.
Now, listen,
if there were one magical surgery
that could turn me into a tall, muscular,
societally perfect image
of a man overnight,
I’d sign up in a heartbeat.
Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple.
There are dozens of different
gender-affirming surgeries
from chest surgeries to bottom surgeries
to facial feminization and man-sculpting.
Many trans people will only ever undergo
one procedure in their lifetime, if that.
Maybe because they don’t
personally feel the need
but also because they’re expensive,
and health insurance
is only beginning to cover them.
Instead, the first step for a trans person
seeking physical transition
is usually hormone replacement therapy.
Hormones are why I have a deeper voice
and some sparse whiskers on my neck
and a giant pimple on my chin.
Basically, they put you
through a second puberty …
it’s a blast.
(Laughter)
Now, because our transitions
are slower and steadier
than historic misconceptions
can lead people to believe,
there can be some confusion
about when to call someone
by their new name and pronouns.
There’s no distinct point
in physical transition
at which a trans person
becomes their true gender.
As soon as they tell you
their new name and pronouns,
that’s when you start using them.
It can be difficult to make the change.
You might slip up here and there;
I’ve slipped up myself
with other trans people.
But I always think to myself,
if we can change from calling
Puff Daddy to P. Diddy,
and if we apologize profusely
when we’ve used the wrong gender pronoun
for someone’s pet cat –
I mean, I think we can make
the same effort
for the real humans in our lives.
Now, there is no topic that makes other
people more awkward about trans people
than public bathrooms.
Ah, the bathrooms –
the latest political flash point
for LGBT opponents.
Here’s a fun fact about bathrooms:
more US congressmen have been convicted
of assaulting someone in a public bathroom
than trans people have been.
(Laughter)
The truth is we trans people are so much
more scared of you than you are of us.
It’s a huge point of discussion
in trans communities
about which bathroom
to start using and when,
so we don’t attract attention
that could lead to violence against us.
I personally started using the men’s room
when I started getting confused
and frightened looks in the women’s room,
even though I was petrified
to start going into the men’s room.
And often we opt to just
not go to the bathroom at all.
A 2015 national survey of trans people
found that eight percent of us
had had a urinary tract infection
in the past year
as a result of avoiding restrooms.
These bathroom bills
aren’t protecting anyone.
All they’re doing
is ensuring that when trans people
are assaulted in bathrooms,
the law will no longer be on our side
when we report it.
Being trans means a daily onslaught
of these misconceptions.
And I have it pretty easy.
I am a white, able-bodied guy
sitting nearly at the peak
of privilege mountain.
For non-binary people,
for trans women,
for trans people of color,
it is so much harder.
So I’ve given you a starter pack
of trans knowledge
that I hope will lead
to more learning on your own.
Talk to trans people.
Listen to us.
Amplify our voices.
Take the heat off of us
and educate those around you
so we don’t have to every time.
Maybe someday, when I say,
“Hi, I’m Jack, and I’m transgender,”
the only response I’ll get is,
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
Thank you.
(Applause)