By Juliette Bolle-Leon
Editor’s note: The Collegiate has granted anonymity to some sources in this article due to the sensitive nature of these interviews. Interviewees who asked for anonymity have chosen to go by pseudonyms. Their names are marked with an asterisk* the first time they appear in the story.
Transgender rights nationwide have been put in the spotlight, but that doesn’t stop those at Grand Rapids Community College from sharing their stories of finding community, recovering and enduring.
Throughout the nation, transgender rights are at stake. In March, Texas began discussing a bill labelling transgender identity a felony. Despite a transgender woman being one of the first to fight against police brutality and homophobic protests against the people at Stonewall, the Stonewall National Park Service website removed the ‘T’ in ‘LGBT,’ the acronym covering transgender people in the LGBTQ+ umbrella. The Trump administration has removed the ‘X’ indicator for passports, meaning intersex and non-conforming transgender people are left to identify with a sex that does not align with their identity.
At the time of publication, the ACLU had tracked 569 anti-LGBTQ bills being discussed in the United States Congress, with five in Michigan targeting either healthcare or transgender students in schools. These laws have caused up to a 72% increase in suicide attempts among transgender and nonbinary youth, according to The Trevor Project.
Anonymity
Despite the attempt at erasure in America, transgender students and faculty at GRCC don’t want to stay silent. In an attempt to elicit compassion and understanding, six transgender peers at GRCC, all with differing experiences, agreed to share their stories. Two students among the six peers chose anonymity. One student, who chose to be under the alias “Spring,” discussed why telling the stories of transgender people is so important.
“The moment we meet a person, we tell personal anecdotes to try and connect, because we are nothing but stories as humans.”
*Spring, 19, is a transgender psychology major at GRCC who feels her transgender identity pigeonholes her, meaning it would ultimately become the defining label people see of her. However, she has conflicting opinions about ‘stealthing,’ or hiding her transgender identity from most people she knows.
“Being openly transgender forces you into becoming a martyr, no matter what. We are terrified of everything, and we have to go to bed each night knowing that there are people … that aren’t willing to understand or love us … because their hate and confusion is more valuable to them than our lives,” she said.
Spring has been a victim of hate crimes in her life, even being followed home by high school peers. Her identity has created opportunities for the intolerant to attack her or attempt to assault her. Hate crimes are motivated by bias against race, color, religion, national origin, sexuality, gender, gender identity, or disability.
“I’m tired of being ‘the trans girl.’ I know that I’ll never retire that name because that is a part of my identity, but maybe for now, I’ll be taking a break from it,” she said. “… Although I wish I didn’t have to shun a part of myself, alas.”
She isn’t alone in this feeling, either. Another anonymous student, one who preferred to go by *Solstice, explains why he chose to be anonymous.
“It’s mostly an issue of personal safety, and also just not feeling ‘there’ yet. … I don’t want (being trans) to be my defining factor. I want it to be something like, ‘oh, I’m trans, but I’m also a guy. That shouldn’t matter to anyone.”
Solstice, 19, is a writing major at GRCC. He is a Hispanic transgender man currently in the process of finding resources for hormone replacement therapy.
Social transitioning
Socially transitioning is a large, initial hurdle to cross as a transgender person. Every transgender person has a different story on their transitioning journey. Before going through any form of medical intervention, many transgender people are forced to have years of therapy.
Some, like *Spring, had to earn their femininity.
“I love my mom, I love her. … My mother, like every Hispanic woman that I know, made womanhood a challenge,” she said. “I think that having to prove myself a woman – just like my sister did – having to learn how to walk in heels, having to learn how to do makeup, how to manage my hair, … I was raised in toxic femininity. … I’m very grateful for the experiences that I learned, because I learned femininity in the most objective way possible.”
Others, like Solstice, had to take steps before coming out to their family, discussing it with teachers and friends first. Eventually, he found other closeted family members that created community for him and thanked him for his confidence.
“The first step I took was just going to school and actually coming out to my teachers, because I thought they would be a little more open to it. … After a few years, I finally built up the confidence to have a conversation with my mom about it. Of course, it was scary, and she did not approve at first, but I found out there were a lot of people in my family like me who were just scared to come out.”
Solstice discovered his older uncle was gay. All his uncle needed, despite decades of pain and insecurity, was another person to do it first.
“He was not open to being gay at first because we all grew up very Christian. And then, by the time he realized, he was in his 40s,” he said. “… He thought it would be better to stay silent about it than to come out and have … the risk of being excluded from the family.” Solstice, despite not being religious, goes to his family’s church with them frequently.
“I believe there is a double standard that, just because someone does not believe the same things that you do, you can’t support them. And so I’m mostly there for my family.”
Solstice was lucky to find community within his family. But many, like Sasha Lišková, cannot speak to their families at all. Some people refuse to understand. Many, like her parents, did not want to even discuss gender identity in their households.
“I came out April 30. May the second, I got a phone call from my biological mother. She said ‘don’t come home.’ I was in school at the time, … I was very well nearly homeless.”
Lišková, 27, is a professional tutor for physics and statistics at GRCC and has been on hormone replacement therapy since 2019. She nearly suffered the fate of homelessness, which approximately 40% of transgender people experience.
“I was very lucky to be housed that summer. Very, very, very lucky. I’m very lucky to be sitting here,” Lišková said. “The causes and conditions that led to (my near-homelessness) happening are, I think, outside of our scope. Let’s just say that I don’t speak to my family anymore, at all, and leave it at that.”
Some people are luckier than others, though. Ella and Jax Johnson, siblings at GRCC, had an already progressive family. Ella, 19, is the vice president of the Democrats at GRCC and identifies as nonbinary, meaning they do not conform with either gender.
“I was actually home-schooled. … My parents were very liberal, very, you know, ‘girls can do whatever they want! They can climb trees, they can get dirty,’” they said. “… We moved to Michigan when I was about 8 or 9. … We mostly frequented very liberal and accepting areas so, again, not a lot of gender roles enforced there, so I just kind of grew up not really caring.”
Ella came out as nonbinary before their brother, Jax, a 17-year-old pursuing a career as a public librarian, came out as a transgender man. Their bond as siblings has created safety with one another. Because they came out first and their parents knew being openly transgender made their children happier, Jax was welcomed with open arms.
“They asked more questions to Ella when they came out, and so Ella was kind of their testing grounds. And then they were like, oh, this is normal and fine, and my child is happier now! So thanks, Ella, for that,” Jax laughed.
The proximity of these two siblings has helped each other understand what it means to be inclusive. Familial love is incredibly important and having that inclusivity has made all the difference for Jax to feel welcomed and loved, even before starting hormone replacement therapy.
Inclusivity
But how can GRCC make transgender people feel more included? Jax believes normalizing it is more important than emphasizing it.
“I’m taking human anatomy and physiology right now, and we got to the endocrine system, and my professor, Lee Kleinart, … she talked about a young transgender person who was taking hormone replacement therapy,” Jax said. “And, I don’t know, little things like that, just mentioning transness in this neutral or positive light, like this is just something about the world.”
Transgender people, students or otherwise, are all around the world. It’s estimated that over 1.6 million people in the United States alone identify as transgender in some way, with over 100,000 transgender children living in one of the 24 states that hold a ban on gender-affirming hormone therapy. By providing inclusive and open mindsets, communities are able to create stronger bonds within themselves and provide the care transgender people need to feel validated. This validation also comes with pride and being vocal about one’s gender identity.
As mentioned prior, two chose anonymity in times of crisis. However, the other four interviewed about their own identities have chosen to be publicized under their own names. They were asked why, amidst everything, they chose pride.
Ella responded, “If you’re, you know, not ‘passing,’ I do think kind of putting your name out there, especially in a public newspaper that everyone can read, everyone can look at, it might put a target on your head … I have a very strong support network … I think I’m coming from a very strong position and I’d like to be able to advocate for both myself and other members of my community.”
Passing refers to a transgender person being perceived and treated as the gender they identify with, leading to less discrimination and lowered risk of hate crimes.
“Can’t unring that bell. And I don’t know if I would want to if I could,” Lišková said.
“I’d rather be out and proud than anonymous,” said Eli Schuitema, a 19-year-old psychology major at GRCC.
Jax replied, “I think part of it is, I want people to know, like, even if they don’t feel safe enough now, there are futures for them where they do feel safe enough….”
Some situations, especially with transgender people under attack politically, create tension, though.
“There’s been a couple of touchy situations where people who have political shirts make me a little nervous or whatever, but I use the male bathrooms. I haven’t faced anything negative so far, and I hope it stays that way,” Schuitema shared.
In order for transgender people to feel safe, they must have a voice. For those who chose to publicize, leading with their voices and embracing their transgender identities allows others to feel more secure in their own positions. Standing out is a natural part of being transgender, but being proud of it is a learned trait.
Hormone replacement therapy: The facts
Hormone replacement therapy, or HRT, is, for a large portion of transgender people, the end goal. Hormone replacement therapy is a form of medical treatment for transgender people that involves taking gender-affirming hormones. Transgender men, often labeled FtM for ‘female-to-male,’ take testosterone to help alleviate and possibly remove their gender dysphoria altogether. Transgender women, who are labeled ‘MtF’ for ‘male-to-female,’ take estrogen and androgen blockers to reduce testosterone levels, and other female hormones to mitigate the effects of their gender dysphoria.
According to the National Library of Medicine, hormone replacement therapy lessens suicide rates and other disorders caused by gender dysphoria. Those who start hormone replacement therapy earlier typically have better mental health than transgender people who take it later in life. All participants of gender-affirming hormone replacement therapy are kept under supervision in case of maladaptive physical traits and to observe hormone levels. All of this is done via medical labs with strict adherence to medical guidelines to maintain the safety of the person.
Hormone replacement therapy: the stories
An end goal for many transgender people is to be placed on hormone replacement therapy. Of the six interviewed, four are currently on HRT, while only one of the six is not seeking HRT.
Schuitema is a psychology major who hopes to work in counseling. He was the president of his Gay-Straight Alliance in high school.
“I didn’t actually get on hormones until about eight months ago. So it’s a relatively new thing, but it’s been amazing so far,” Schuitema said.
Schuitema has seen a drastic increase in quality of life since starting testosterone. He has felt more confident, more respected and much happier since.
“I think there was a huge shift in self-confidence. I felt like I could be more of myself, especially once my voice dropped,” he said “… I felt like I was actually, finally, on the path to being who I wanted to be rather than just waiting and waiting….”
He was at a low point in his life prior to starting HRT. Though by starting testosterone, he could finally see the results of years of therapy and consultations. Jax shared the same sentiments.
“As I started to notice changes in my voice, I was like, hell yeah!” Jax said. “One cool thing was that I didn’t really hear it. … Because in my brain, my voice was always lower and more how I imagined it. And so it wasn’t that I was hearing my voice in my own head differently, but when I heard it back, it sounded more like how I think I should sound. So that was really cool.”
Common criticisms of testosterone in HRT is that, by starting the hormone, transgender men will become more aggressive or have less patience with people, both actions that are typically associated with higher levels of testosterone. Jax believes he’s done the opposite since beginning his hormone journey. He feels that transitioning has helped him achieve greater peace, thus helping him feel calmer.
“I was worried that I’d be more aggressive or more snippy or have less of a patience. I haven’t really noticed that … After socially and physically transitioning, …. I’ve been calmer, I’ve been more social, I’ve felt less anxiety,” Jax said.
Transgender women tend to see changes at a slower pace when starting HRT. Although testosterone will deepen the voice, neither estradiol nor antiandrogens can lighten or change a person’s voice. Testosterone is found within all people, males and females alike. This shared hormone creates muscle mass and bone density in all humans. Transgender women competing in the Olympics are required to have less testosterone than is considered healthy for their body, the same amount as menopausal women. Despite this, transgender women nationwide are being banned from playing sports altogether.
Lišková is a competitor in many triathlons. These attacks on transgender rights in sports have affected her mentally and personally.
“I compete in triathlons and so, naturally, this makes me the person that a lot of people are talking about when they say – and I put this in as many quotes as possible – ‘protect women’s sports,’” Lišková said.
Lišková, like many transgender women, had to work to regain their physical strength. According to the Canadian Centre for Ethics in Sport and many other sources, trans women, at best, compete fairly with cisgender women, or people born female. There is no dominance or disadvantage against cisgender women. However, politicians have moved to create more than 80 separate bills reducing transgender rights on the issue.
Speak up and speak out: Fighting for rights
Many are frozen in fear by the removal of rights. However, even if one cannot look at the news every day, action is seen as necessary.
“I follow a lot of creators online who have formed … protests, not just in Grand Rapids, but in other states, and it sort of renews a hope that there are people who are fighting and that you could be part of that,” Solstice said.
All interviewed advocate at the local level, some only signing petitions and contacting representatives, others more. Lišková believes her voice can be heard more in Grand Rapids than federally and fears she does not have control over federal policy. Spring, however, holds little trust in the government altogether.
“Political transparency anywhere in the nation is terrible,” said Spring. “It is absolutely terrible. I think the best thing we can do is, at the end of the day, be there for one another. Because if I can’t be the person making the changes, I can certainly help people feel less alone.”
Connecting with one’s community can do more than change political behavior. The Grand Rapids Pride Center and the Grand Rapids Trans Foundation, for instance, help support people in their transition journey. They help provide counseling, offer free gender-affirming clothing and assist in legal name changes. Both organizations are non-profit. The Grand Rapids Pride Center is the longest-running LGBTQ+ resource center in Michigan, starting in 1988.
“For the children that feel unseen, I love you.”
The resources provided by these organizations and public displays of transgender pride help provide warmth during trying times, especially for transgender and queer youth. Amidst chaos, people afraid of their futures must be reminded why people fight for them and why to fight for themselves.
“Humanity, if nothing else, is made to endure and to love despite. For the children that feel unseen, I love you, and love does triumph in those restless nights,” shared Spring, in hopes of comforting the children that are upset with the state of the world. “I love you, and do not go gentle into that good night.”
Lišková chooses to fight for all transgender youth out there. “The adults in your life may not listen, may not understand, may do worse than not understanding, … but you’re not alone,” she commented. “You don’t, despite what anybody says, do this on a lark. You are real, and I see all of you, and I hold all of you in my heart, and I am… fighting for you.”
“There have always been people like you. You are loved, you are understood,” Ella said. Ella also shared that, especially as a child, seeing transgender media made them feel comforted and helped them understand the complexity of a differing gender identity.
The vast majority of transgender individuals report feeling isolated at one point or another during their transition. Jax shared advice for those who feel alone in their queer identity.
“If you don’t have them already, find people who will support you. … Queer and trans people are far more common, I think, than people realize,” he said. “… When you feel like you’re a part of something bigger, it’s kind of a self-reinforcing feeling, … and so reaching out to a community beyond queer-centered spaces, I think, is really helpful, too.”
“Just because there is a big … storm of people who want to suppress or feel the need to beat others down, it looks bad, but there are a lot more people who are willing to accept you and willing to love you,” shared Solstice. He also noted that finding friends and loved ones which accept him is what made him more confident in expressing his identity.
“Look for the euphoria instead of the dysphoria. … Just searching for those things that bring you joy and bring you peace rather than the things that you don’t like about yourself,” Schuitema said.
Conclusion: A magic button
Throughout the history of transgender people, several interrogatives have helped people understand themselves more intimately. As all interviews finished, the interviewees were asked a final question:
If there was a magic button that could skip transitioning and give you everything transitioning could give, would you press it? Would you have pressed it prior to transitioning?
Only one person answered yes.
“The climb to the top, I think, makes the struggle worth it. That’s my answer,” said Lišková.
Jax believes being transgender just emphasizes a natural part of life: finding one’s identity and how personality changes through time.
“I don’t think I would. I think being trans is really cool… It’s really human to me, like, figuring out who you want to be and making your life what you want your life to be is just, it feels really innate to me.”
Now, Spring wouldn’t press the button. She is too appreciative of her identity and believes her journey has made her the person she is now. If she were asked prior to transitioning, though, it would have been a different story altogether.
“The moment that I came out to my friends and my family, if I were offered a button to skip everything, …I would have pressed that button without reading any of the fine print.”
The only person who would press the button is Solstice, who has been searching for testosterone treatment for months and is still looking for the resources he needs. When asked why, he shared he has felt dysphoric for too long.
“I would definitely press it, 100 percent. Just because it’s hard to find the resources to be able to transition now and I have felt like this for so long. I’ve felt this since I was a child. …. I wanted to be able to love myself a little bit more, but I wasn’t able to before I … socially transitioned. If I could gift myself that, I feel like I would be able to love myself more and honor who I was as a child.”
Transgender people have existed throughout history. Despite several attempts at erasure, people still fight to maintain the human rights transgender people deserve. By accepting the differences in people’s identities, solidarity can be established. By speaking out against discrimination, youth are emboldened knowing they have people who understand. And by standing out and displaying pride, unity and strength can be created.
