Gender Identity and Workplace Discrimination 

 

            Can you be fired based on your gender? Technically in Oklahoma you can because this is an “at-will” state.  However, if you are cisgender, there is a law/clause that ensures you cannot be fired simply because of your gender, and if you are, even in an” at-will” state, you have legal recourse. That law does not apply to me or any other trans person in Oklahoma or the other 31 other states in which trans people are not protected from work-place discrimination. I am fortunate; I work in higher education, a field in which difference is embraced and being trans is not something for which to be fired (this applies most to public institutions). However, many trans people are fired simply for being trans. Some employers do give reason, such as the employer who told blogger Patricia Dawson, “’ I’m sorry, Steve, you do great work, but you are too much of a distraction and I am going to have to let you go”’ (Dawson). He even used her birth name while firing her, adding insult to injury. Race, gender, religion, age, sexuality and gender identity should not determine how a person is judged at work; instead, the quality of their work should be the only determining factor in workplace appraisals.  Gender-identity-based workplace discrimination, however, not only happens too often, but is also legal in more than half of the United States, this includes my home state of Oklahoma.

            The issue of trans discrimination in the workplace leads or contributes to other issues facing the community such as poverty and homelessness, with high rates of trans people falling into these socio-economic groups. According to a report in The Advocate, “MAP [Movement Advancement Project] and CAP [Center for American Progress] report that trans people are nearly four times more likely to have a yearly household income below $10,000 (15 percent vs. 4 percent of the nontrans population)” (Kellaway).  Not only is this situation bad for the trans community, but it is also bad for the health of the economy. In continuing to maintain legality in firing people simply for being trans, we, as a society, are creating the need for government assistance within the community. Changing these laws is not only the just decision, but also the economically sound decision. I ask my readers to consider supporting a change to these laws, and helping me create a brighter future for the children of this state and country. As a trans advocate, I will work with lawmakers and other advocates in Oklahoma to effect change and include gender identity in our non-discrimination clause. I know that this probably will not be easy, but nothing worth fighting for usually is.

Works Cited

Dawson, Patricia. “Fired for Being Trans.” Huffington Post, 02 Feb, 2016. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/patricia-dawson/fired-for-being-trans_b_6759862.html. Accessed 08 Nov. 2106.

Kellaway, Mitch. “Trans Americans Four Times More Likely to Live in Poverty.” The Advocate. 18 Feb. 2015. http://www.advocate.com/politics/transgender/2015/02/18/report-trans-americans-four-times-more-likely-live-poverty. Accessed 08 Nov. 2016.

I am not Alone

I know that I am not alone in the world. I have a family and group of friends who love me. Even the friends I mostly communicate with on social media are a large part of my support network (not as a trans person, but simply as a person). Everyone needs that, and I am happy not to be alone.

There is, however, another meaning to the tile “I am not Alone.” I am not alone in being a trans person who has attempted suicide.  In a 2015 article, scholars reported that, “(a)cross Europe, Canada, and the United States, 22–43 % of transgender (trans) people report a history of suicide attempts” (Bauer 1). As I wrote in another piece, my suicide was not based solely on my being trans; there were multiple factors. However, the depression I lived with for so many years was a direct result of pretending to be a boy.

            Whether we are transgender, cisgender, gay, straight, male female, we all feel the pressure to fit into a relentlessly unforgiving society. Societal standards are almost impossible for any of us to achieve. We are bombarded, from a young age, by images in entertainment and advertising of the ideal woman and the ideal man. We are shown unattainable standards. Also, we all learn early that there are social repercussions for deviating from cultural norms. This lesson is especially difficult for a trans person. We are normal; I repeat, trans people are normal, but very early in life we are told we are not. We not only learn the same lessons about “fitting in” as our cisgender peers, but we also learn that society believes something is wrong with us. If we are true to ourselves, at any age, we face bullying (both physical and verbal), threats of violence, and the very real possibility of being shunned by our peers and, even worse, our families.

            As trans people grow up and societal pressures push us to be “normal,” many of us develop depression and, “41% try to kill themselves at some point in their lives, compared with 4.6% of the general public. The numbers come from a study by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and the Williams Institute” (Ungar). Sadly, too many of my trans sisters and brothers are not as fortunate as me, and their suicide attempts are successful. I decided to stop pretending to be a boy (the only choice I made about being trans) after my suicide attempt. I have decided that I want to live the rest of my life as myself, and I want to be happy. Support from my friends and most of my family has been overwhelming, but the ones who have said mean things or decided to end our relationships do hurt me. However, I work to find the good in every day and focus on that.

            For Transgender Awareness Month, and beyond, I would like to offer a solution. We need to teach our children that some people’s brains do not align with their physical sex characteristics. That gender and biological sex are not correlates, and that gender is, in fact, not binary. Furthermore, we need to teach ourselves and our children that the unattainable male and female societal standards should not, must not, be goals for which to strive. We must change the way we react to trans people in public. If you cannot be nice, be quiet; remember what Thumper’s father said before he went to work. If someone does not fit societies idea of male or female, or if you can tell they are presenting as their true gender instead of their assigned one, do not say sir or mam; instead, just say thank you or hello. Taste your words, be nice, and imagine that I am, or another trans person is, your sibling or child. Remember that all of us are human. Together we can change society and save lives.

           

Works Cited

Bauer, Greta R., et al. "Intervenable Factors Associated with Suicide Risk in Transgender Persons: A Respondent Driven Sampling Study in Ontario, Canada." BMC Public Health 15.1 (2015): 1-15. Academic Search Elite. Web. 7 Nov. 2016

Ungar, Laura. “Transgender People Face Alarmingly High Rate of Suicide.” USA Today. (2015): Web. 7 Nov. 2016

On Being Female, Being Myself, and Being Trans 

                My name is Olivia Standley and I am a woman. Unfortunately, when I was four years old, I discovered that I was supposed to pretend to be a boy. I pretended for 36 years.

                Aspects of that 36- year-old memory are very clear; others are not. I’m not sure where we were, church maybe. I am pretty sure it was summer, because I was playing outside with a group of girls. This part is very clear. My dad, a good person to whom I do not cast blame, told me to go play with the boys. I remember responding, “but I’m a girl,” or “I’m not a boy.” I also clearly remember than answer not being ok. I did not get a spanking, but I got yelled at that I was a boy. I know I started to cry, and I now I was told,’ stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Again, I do not cast blame on dad, and I ask my audience not to either. It was 1979 or 1980 in the Panhandle of Texas, and he was a macho law enforcement officer (a product of his own time in society). He meant no harm that day, but harm was done. Something happened to me; I realized I was not normal. I was not ok. The pretending began. 

                Imagine having to pretend to be the opposite gender your entire life, and you might be able to put yourself in my shoes. I never wanted to be a girl; I always was a girl. What I always wanted was to stop pretending to be a boy. Anytime I would hear my mother say she wanted a daughter, I ached to respond, “I’m your daughter, let me be your daughter.” However, on that day when I was four, I learned that if I said that to anyone there would be trouble. As I got older I learned that I was surrounded by that threat of trouble in all aspects of society (although I could not have expressed it in that manner). Indeed, in the 1980’s and 90’s (even the 2000’s) there was a constant threat in my mind that someone would find out, that I would become a laughingstock, and that I would lose everyone. So I pretended. 

                I tried hard to be the boy I was told I should be, and I never told anyone. I desperately wanted to have a Barbie, and I never told anyone. I learned boys don’t cry, and I never told anyone. I prayed every night that I would wake up and get to be a girl, and I never told anyone. I tried to play football and failed, and I never told anyone. I always wanted to be a cheerleader, and I never told anyone. I wanted to look like Debbie Gibson, and I never told anyone. I was horrified and terrified when I learned what would happen to me at puberty, and I never told anyone. I accepted that this would be life and I should try to hide who I really was, and I never told anyone. I was worried I was going to hell, and I never told anyone. It never changed, and I never told anyone.  I cried myself to sleep thinking about wearing a tux instead of a prom dress, and I never told anyone.

           Research has found that individuals who have consistently expressed cross-sex identification from early childhood (toddler age) onward develop psychological problems resulting from the pain of pubertal physical changes, including depression, anorexia, social phobias, and suicidality. (Cohen-Kettenis, Delemarre-van de Waal, & Gooren, 2008) (Cited in Gibson)

                As I grew up, I tried on many hats of masculinity in an effort to be “normal.” I tried to be a cowboy, then a rocker, then a cowboy again. Those two repeated often. I am certain that I was depressed before I was 10, and it only got worse in my teens.  On my little brother’s 13^th birthday (he and I have a fear of years with 3) and 11 days before my 16^th birthday, doctors found a tumor (cancer) in our dad’s brain. They said it was the size of a grapefruit, and I always questioned how that was possible. Not only did I not get the sweet sixteen of my dreams (and I never told anyone), but the time surrounding my 16^th birthday was one of the most difficult times of my life. It was also the time that self-medication began, and, unfortunately for those around me, I had already become very good at hiding things from everyone. 

               At 16, I was drinking during lunch and doing drugs, and I never told anyone. This was also when I discovered that if I was not completely sober, I did not care as much about having to pretend, or at least I was distracted.  Against what we were told, dad survived the surgery and remembered everything about his life. The time between then and April is blurry, but I remember the day in April when dad had strokes in his brain-stem.  Little Brother and I spent the next 16 years helping mom take care of dad. She was the primary care giver, but he and I became the secondary caregivers. The caregiver role came easily to me, some might say it is because I am female and women tend to be better caregivers. I think it is simply a personality trait that is not based on gender. 

                 I do not think I was ever suicidal during that time of my life, but I attribute that, in large part, to a need to be there for my mom, brother, and father. Mom, little brother, and I worked together for years to take care of dad, but mom did bear the brunt off the care-giving. Post-stroke dad was a different person, and perhaps he would have accepted me had I come out. Little brother recently told me he found my feminine clothing from time-to-time throughout our youth, and he didn’t call me out; he is a fantastic brother and I love him dearly. I know, and always knew, that mom would never turn her back on me. That is not the kind of person she is; it does not fit her character, which is a character that I still strive to achieve. Perhaps, I would have been ok had I come out to them, but it was still the 90’s and 2000’s and society would have been much harsher than it currently is; it can still be pretty harsh depending on location. And, I have other family members, who appear to be on the fence of still loving me now. I am pretty sure they would have disowned me back then. So, I never told anyone.

                Throughout my teens and into my 20’s I continued to struggle with my gender. I would buy women’s clothing and “cross-dress” in private, though I never really considered myself a crossdresser, it was the prominent term for what I was doing. From time-to-time, I would fear someone had or would find me out (apparently little brother did multiple times, but he is so damn awesome that he never said anything, never brought my fears to life) and so I would purge, or throw away, my collection of feminine attire. I am saddened by that; I had some really cute stuff in the 90’s. This form of connecting with my hidden femininity continued until I was 36 years old, and I never told anyone. 

                From July of my 20^th year through April of my 21st,   my self-medication turned very dark. I began using harder drugs and became unrecognizable to others and to myself, both physically and mentally. That April, because of several circumstances, I left the part of town I had called home, moved in with my grandmother, and detoxed on my own. I have never gone back to that type of life. But the self-medication did not stop completely. Alcohol and pot were prevalent in my life until I went to college in 2003, and other forms have come and go until now (I am still medicated, but it is by my doctor). After, I left the west-side of town, my family followed me and we rented a much larger house in another area of town. It was then that I met the guys who would become my lifelong friends. I tell people they still keep me around, because when we met they were all in high school and I could purchase alcohol, but that is only a joke. There are seven friends form those days, way back in 1997, who I am still very close with. When I came out to them, they all offered overwhelming support and love. I am fortunate to have not lost my friends, but I think it is also because of the caliber of people I am friends with. I love each of them very much, and I am proud to myself their sister. Several of them have said they would have accepted me back then, maybe teased me, but accepted me and still been my friends. Perhaps I could have told them, I am certain of their character, but I was so scared to lose people, and I never told anyone. I did everything that I could to be what society told me was normal.  I longed to come out, but the imagined repercussions in my mind were terrifying. 

               Coming out has been the opposite of those imagined repercussions. I have a strong support network of friends, and most of family. I am happy. There are bad and sad things in my life, but I choose not let situations or people control my psyche (the only choice i have made about being trans by the way; being trans is not something a person chooses). I will not let myself become the anxious, depressed person who attempted suicide in June. I will live the rest of my life as myself. I will not pretend to be a boy any longer. 

                This story is a work in progress; I intend to use this blog to document my experience on this journey of self-activation. I hope that I will have readers, and that we will have civil discourse in an effort to bridge understanding and create a better world for the children we love. I want to bring awareness to people about the struggles of trans-women and men. I want to help; I want to be an activist (I was a student activist, why not be a trans activist?).

Works Cited

Gibson, Bethany, and Anita J. Catlin. "Care of the Child with the Desire to Change Gender -- Part I." Pediatric Nursing 36.1 (2010): 53-59. Academic Search Elite. Web. 5 Nov. 2016.

 Happy and thankful to be Alive 

(originally posted to Facebook notes on Nov 2, 2016)

To continue my narrative . . First, I am so thankful for the support that so many of you have given me. Many people have asked me what prompted my coming out, and I keep coming back to the same answer. On June 30th I attempted suicide. Some have asked why, and that is hard to answer. I can tell you that the irrational logic that precedes suicide seems totally logical at the time. There were multiple triggers that I can point to, and hiding my gender identity was a huge underlying factor of my depression at the time. If I could point to one specific reason for the attempt, I would lay it out in this post. All I know is that all of the reasons that were swirling through my brain seemed like legitimate reasons that day. 

I intentionally went where no one would find me. I spent money on my debit card in Wagoner (knowing people would use that to locate me), then rode my motorcycle the opposite way and went to a little spot I knew on the Illinois River near Tahlequah. I made sure the bike was not visible from the road, and then I walked down river about ½ mile. I have read that some people find peace once they have decided to end their lives, but Than never happened with me. I was in turmoil the entire time. At the time I took Xanax for panic attacks and had filled my prescription the day before. I found a quiet spot, took the entire bottle, around 50 pills, laid down and cut my right wrist from elbow to hand (I did not cut the left because I like my tattoo as strange as that sounds). I went to sleep . . . 

I woke up in the dark scared, confused, and surprised to be alive. I honestly cannot pin down the reason I did not try to finish myself off that night, but I am thankful I didn’t. I could not find my way off the river, and had left my phone 9nd all other personal effects) in the fork bag of the motorcycle. I tied something around my arm, and stumbled around in the dark looking for a way out. I wouldn’t find it until around 11am the next morning. I think of it as my rock bottom, and I did fall onto the rocks of the river bank several times (I also slept on the rocks of the river bank, off and on that night.

When I did make it off river, I rode the motorcycle to what was home at the time. I spent the day in the hospital here in Tulsa, and then the next week in Parkside mental health facility (the staff there were very awesome) I had already decided I did not want to die, but I was still scared to live at the time. In Parkside I started a non-narcotic medicine for panic attacks and thought a lot about my life. So, I came out to my therapist a week or so later, I cried because I had never told anyone I am trans. I decided that I had to live for me, and not concern myself with what others would think. I needed to do whatever it took to be happy in my life. 

There are still bad things in life, but I know that they are just situations and I have learned to overcome my anxiety and panic attacks. I look for the good in everything, and I do not focus on negative things. 

Coming out was so much different than I had feared. I thought people would reject me, make fun of me, and etc. So many people have offered words of encouragement and support. I am grateful and I know I am fortunate. I am now living full-time as the girl I have always known I am. I never wanted to be a girl, rather I wanted to stop pretending to be a boy. Being trans is only one aspect of me and my life, but living authentically to myself has helped me find happiness. Nothing will ever be perfect, but I never want to be in the place I was on June 30th. 

My sincere hope is that through my story I can help others and prevent people from hurting themselves the way that I did.