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Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

(Bloomberg Businessweek) -- Not everyone has the same coming-out experience as Aimee Stephens, who was fired from her job as a funeral director two weeks after telling her boss she’s transgender in 2013. Ashley Oerth, an investment strategy analyst at OppenheimerFunds Inc., says she was impressed by her colleagues’ openness when she came out at work. And while Precious Brady-Davis once felt pigeonholed into working only with trans youth in a previous job at an LGBT outreach center, she says her gender identity never comes up in her current role as a regional communications manager for the Sierra Club—“Never. Never. Ever.”

All of the people we spoke with shared stories about struggling to find their place in a work environment that wasn’t necessarily ready for them. Nearly as many, though, also had stories of professional triumphs. Ashley Brundage, vice president for diversity and inclusion at PNC Bank, says trans professionals’ personal successes resonate across the broader community. “When you put an economic voice behind your community, you have the ability to really control the narrative.”

Still, gender identity is far from the most interesting or important thing in their lives. “My gender identity doesn’t play at all right now,” says Christian Oropeza, a vice president for commercial insurance at Long & Foster. “I’m never like, ‘Hey, I’m Christian. I’m trans.’ Instead, I’d say, ‘I grew the company 300 percent. Give me a raise.’ ”

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Donna Rose, 60

Phoenix; Enterprise LAN/WAN infrastructure program manager, American Airlines
Pronouns: She, her, hers

When did you start coming out?

I knew something was wrong from a young age, which seems to be a fairly consistent narrative for what I’ll call “midlife transitioners.” For those of us who grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, there were no words or labels to apply. I fit into the roles that were expected of me very well. I was a good boy: I played football. I was attracted to girls.

My wife and I bought two homes. We had a child. They used to call us yuppies—young, upwardly mobile professionals. That was my life track in my mid-30s, and it was pretty good. I had come to peace with the two people living in this body. David didn’t know anything more than life as a straight, white, middle-class professional. Then there was Donna, who was as strong a force in me as David and got stronger as time went by. I found the internet and, all of a sudden, I wasn’t alone anymore. These misconceptions that trans people were sad, lonely, misguided were erased. I saw surgeons, pilots, and executives and engineers, and people that were very much like me, all sharing their experiences and journeys online.

There was a facial surgeon. We called him Dr. O. He had done quite a bit of work on what makes a skull feminine or masculine and was very much ahead of his time, both in his aesthetic perspective of what could be done and how it would lead to an easier time of fitting into society, being able to blend into a room and escape the stigma. I came out in the workplace just about the same time I had my facial surgery, because you can’t have that surgery and not have people notice. When I got my face done, my whole world changed.

Were you worried about coming out at work?

I wasn’t, because at that point I’d come out to my wife, which was horrible; to my son, which was hard; to my family. I’d become very good at it. There’s a quote: “Courage isn’t the lack of fear. It’s the recognition that there’s something more important than fear.” That’s how I approached it.

Did any of your colleagues react in a way that stood out to you?

They were very uncomfortable with me, so they stuck me with a role where I would be traveling five days a week for four weeks a month. But it was actually a blessing, because I was meeting people that never knew me as David. That was a very important thing at a nascent stage of growth. I left in the middle of 2000. [Dell] had invited me to interview as David, and I responded to them as Donna. I had never interviewed as Donna before. The first time is always special.

How do you describe your gender identity?

In my day-to-day life, I never even think about it. That’s the irony of it all. There’s a time when it’s all-consuming, and then there’s a time when it’s such a non-thing. It’s been this way now for 20 years, and I think I’ve found who I am.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

There’s a thing in our community which is called being stealth, the notion of going into the new role and not having any trace of your old life. But the notion of trying to hide David has become as difficult to me as the concept of trying to hide Donna was 25 years ago. I’ll be perfectly honest: The support that my leadership—all the way up to our chief information officer—provides to me to continue to be involved in LGBT work and, specifically, trans workplace leadership is one of the things that keeps me at American Airlines. There’s no shame, no hiding.

Did your health plan cover the medical care you needed?

The short answer is no. I had to pay for it all [when I started transitioning*]. It cost me about $100,000. My dad passed, and I had some money. He gave me life a first time, and then he gave me life a second time.

Trans wellness has unfortunately only been focused on genital surgery. The thing that I’ve been talking about myself and with other elders are benefits beyond transition. There are those of us who transitioned 10, 20, 30 years ago who are now having health issues that may be associated with our transition. We should get coverage for that. There should also be better coverage for things like facial surgery. Body contouring*—male-to-female and female-to-male—should be covered. Electrolysis, hair grafts, those should be covered. It’s all a part of the same conversation.

What else would you like to add?

One of my frustrations is that there’s so few of us at management or executive levels. It says that you can only go so far in your career as a trans person. There’s a very real glass ceiling. Over the course of the last two decades, I’ve left jobs over trans issues. I’ve lost jobs over them. I’m sure I’ve been denied jobs because of them. But regardless, I realize I am far more fortunate than most.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Ashley Brundage, 38

Tampa; Vice president for diversity and inclusion, PNC Bank
Pronouns: She, her, hers

When did you start coming out?

I always knew that something just wasn’t meshing for me. I was constantly reminded, Don’t walk like that, don’t talk like that. I was just surviving until I reached my own kind of breaking point.

I had actually worked quite a while leading a team of 50 people as an HR point person. When I was 28, the perfect storm of things happened when I left my first career, which then enabled me to stay home with my kids. I spent two and a half years, in essence, as a stay-at-home parent, and during that time frame I got the opportunity to really find myself. In my prior career, I had been battling gender identity and gender expression* for quite a while, and I didn’t even realize it. I did a lot of research, and I found I was looking for companies that had an existing diversity and inclusion program. That’s what led me to PNC. I started actually as a part-time bank teller working in the retail division.

When did you come out at work?

I was vocal during the interview process. I remember sitting there and talking about gender identity and expression, literally Day 1.

How do you describe your gender identity?

I have found my way as just another woman in the workforce. I like being involved in the LGBTQ community—I think it’s important to be visible and be an ally in that way. I don’t always want to make it about the fact that I’m trans, but of course I know that it’s always going to be a piece that’s there. Being included economically is important. When you put an economic voice behind your community, you have the ability to really control the narrative.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

I get messages from PNC employees across the country who are transitioning who’ve seen me on our internal channels. When I get one of those messages, I’m like, Oh, my goodness, my work has paid off that day.

Did your health plan cover the medical care you needed? What, if any, gaps did you encounter?

I started transitioning before I joined the company, but yes, everything that I need so far has all been covered. That was one of my things I was peeking at when trying to decide where I was going to make a career. I think the Fortune 500 is really getting it. The trans community really is just another diverse community who are looking to be represented.

What else would you like to add?

I was really fortunate to have support from my wife. We’ve been together for 22 years and have two kids, Bryce and Blake. That’s why it’s important for others in the workforce to be able to have that support, because sometimes many people who are transitioning don’t have that kind of engagement at home.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Jamison Green, 70

Vancouver, Wash.; Currently: Founder, Transgender Strategies Consulting; Formerly: Director of technical publications, Visa
Pronouns: He, him, his

When did you start coming out?

I was always very, shall we say, androgynous in my appearance. Ever since I was a little kid and had to wear dresses to school, people would ask me if I was a boy. [Because] I was gender nonconforming*, I was constantly having to take care of other people’s feelings rather than my own. Every time I went to the women’s room, people would get upset unless they knew me.

Now, I’m also a champion of people who want to remain in that in-between space. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that. For some people, that space is the comfortable space.

How do you describe your gender identity?

My gender identity is male, masculine. But I’m aware of having grown up in a female body. I was in university from 1966 to ’72, which is a hugely important period in second-wave feminism, thinking that biology is not destiny. I was the first female-bodied construction cable splicer for the telephone company in Oregon in 1973. I took a lot of hazing from the guys I worked with. They would say, “Why are you doing this job? You’re taking food out of the mouths of children that some man is supporting.” I said, “What makes you think I don’t have children to support?”

It all seems so logical to me, but you know, people have really strange perspectives on what people would be capable of doing just because they’re women. I still regard myself as a feminist.

I didn’t know anybody like me. There was no information that I could find, so I came up with the word “cross-gendered.” I talked about it with a few of my friends, and they would all go, “That’s interesting” and nod. We’re sitting around talking about women’s rights and stuff, and some magazine had an article about transsexuals. Of course it had to do with only people who transitioned from male to female, which upset a lot of women. They said I should apply, and as soon as they accept me, I should say, “Aha! I’m really a woman, and you shouldn’t change people’s sex.” I turned to my friends and said, “I would be happy to change my sex.” Those days, in the ’70s, nobody knew what that meant.

When did you come out at work?

I came to the decision that I needed to apply to this sex-reassignment program, as they called them in those days. I was between jobs as I went through the evaluation period, and then I got hired at Sun Microsystems just a few weeks before I found out that I was accepted in the program. The very first day of work, I had an orientation and had to fill out a bunch of forms and sit with a bunch of people and learn about the company and this and that. Everybody had to bring their passports, you know, proof of citizenship. It had an “F” in the sex category, and it had my very feminine first name, [but] I’d been going by Jamison, which is my middle name, for a long, long time. I gave it to HR when it was my turn to check in. They said, “Thank you, Mr. Green” when they handed it back to me. I thought, Oh, OK, they think I’m male. I’m just going to fill out all my paperwork as male, and then I will not have to go to HR and tell anybody when I get accepted to the sex-reassignment program in a few weeks.

Did any of your colleagues react in a way that stood out to you?

I basically had to sit down with each and every one of my staff members and tell them, You know, if you’re a guy, you’re going to be seeing me in the men’s room, and I’d like for you to refer to me with masculine pronouns. My staff was wonderful. One guy said, “If you have any problems in the men’s room, just let me know. Me and my friends will take care of it for you.” Well, we did have one incident. An employee absolutely refused to accept me as a male. He went to my friend in HR and said, “I don’t want that woman in my men’s room.” She realized he was talking about me, and she goes, “There is no woman in your men’s room. He is going through a medically supervised transition, and he is not interested in you, so there’s nothing that you need to worry about.” The employee said, “You don’t understand. If I see him in there, I may get violent.” She said, “You touch him, and you’re out of here. If you’re so concerned, we’ll get you a port-a-potty in the parking lot.”

Trans people are usually aware that they may be subject to violence. I was once threatened riding on the subway, and some guy just starts screaming, “Is that a man or a woman?” and was getting louder and louder and louder and scaring everyone. I’ve been physically assaulted, but usually because people thought I was male and so it was OK to hit me.

How often did your gender identity come up at Visa?

Very rarely, which is fine with me. I wasn’t there to be a trans person. I was there to be a writer and to manage writers. Still, there are a lot of problems with people being accepted, especially if their appearance is unusual at all. A lot of trans people are held back or ostracized in the workplace or don’t even get hired. I was really very, very lucky when I was in my not-gender-normative state that I had the ability to make people feel comfortable with me. [Today,] I talk with a lot of HR managers about workplace issues for trans people and health-care benefits and health-care access. They’re safer than they used to be—many people would just come out and be fired on the spot, historically. People will give people a chance now, especially if they’re a valued worker. But to get these same people to consider hiring a trans person that they don’t already know, that is a shift for them. Their unconscious biases come into play. There’s a lot still to be accomplished, which is why I’m not retired.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Christian Oropeza, 34

Washington, D.C.; Vice president for commercial insurance, Long & Foster
Pronouns: He, him, his

Why did you go into insurance?

I was an animal hospital receptionist 15 years ago, checking someone out, and they said, “Hey, kid, do you want to sell insurance?” So, I started selling insurance.

When did you start coming out?

I was transitioning [while working at the animal hospital]. My manager didn’t believe in gay people but did believe in trans people. She believed it was possible we were wired as the wrong sex, but she only thought you could be a trans guy liking women. One woman refused to use male pronouns with me. Then there was another male receptionist, he flicked me in the chest and said, “Do you think you’re a guy now?” They were supportive at times, but weirdly homophobic and aggressive. It was funny. Well, it’s funny now. At the time it was just awkward and uncomfortable.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

My gender identity doesn’t play at all right now. I’m never like, “Hey, I’m Christian. I’m trans.” Instead, I’d say, “I grew the company 300 percent. Give me a raise.”

When Chelsea Manning was transitioning in jail, I had a colleague that said, “I don’t believe that someone can transition.” I told her, “You know I’m transgender?” Then they ask a lot of questions usually. The first question is always, “What organs do you have?” Then they ask, “Are you male or female?” “How? When?” I guess because it’s so innocent, in a way I don’t feel uncomfortable.

Did your health plan cover the medical care you needed?

I never sought it out. My parents paid for my top surgery*, and before it was covered by insurance, they paid for the testosterone and the bloodwork. I can’t tell if I was afraid to [approach HR for resources] or haven’t because I didn’t need to. Those conversations, they never occurred to me. We have a health savings plan that could have covered my testosterone. I had no idea. Now I know.

What are your career aspirations?

I would like to mentor more people. Last month this guy shocked me with something he came up with. And I was like, “Bro, who trained you?” and he was like, “You did. …” I want to be CEO soon. If it’s not at this company, someone is going to make me CEO within five years. It doesn’t matter where.

What else would you like to add?

My family is from Bolivia, so I’m first generation. When we were first growing up, we were really poor. My dad started his own business—they’re the total American dream. We didn’t talk for a little while [after I came out to them], but I was really lucky. My parents went to a therapist [who specializes in LGBTQ issues] on their own. They called me one day and said, “We’re going to visit you, son.” Within six months they were over it. Just last week it was my birthday, and they told me they’re so proud of me.

I know that it’s hard for people of color, especially trans women of color. If there was a message I could share, it would be: Keep going. Whatever you want to do is possible. I’m still in a female mentality, where I overapologize. That’s just years of being conditioned that way. It’s easier said than done, and I know that it’s difficult, but I want to share that whatever you want is possible.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Liz Fong-Jones, 31

Brooklyn, N.Y.; Currently: Developer advocate, Honeycomb.io; Formerly: Staff developer advocate, Google
Pronouns: she, her, hers

Why did you go into software engineering?

It was a family business: My uncles and aunts are engineers. Google is among one of the best places where a transgender person can work. In terms of community, there’s a lot of transgender employees—there are several hundred out in the open. There’s institutional support in terms of HR policies and health care.

Toward the end, there were some things I saw there that made me worry that I couldn’t continue working there. My primary concern was about the overall accountability of leadership, in terms of the products that we’ve built for China and for the U.S. military, as well as the sexual harassment scandal [involving former executives who’d been given big exit packages after their conduct was reported to management]. I had individual interactions with colleagues go less than ideally, but that wasn’t what pushed me to pursue a change. I was burning out on activism.

When did you start coming out?

I have both the privilege and the awful luck that I realized I was trans when I was 15 years old. My dysphoria* was so bad, I couldn’t cope with it other than trying to transition. I never had to deal with coming out at work. On the other hand, it does mean I had to deal with parents who were not supportive, and that was very traumatic.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

As someone who is a binary* trans person, I’ve run into sexism all the time. But in terms of trans-specific situations, honestly it doesn’t happen very often.

I am open being trans, but at the same time, I’m not mentioning it in every breath. I think it’s really important to give back to the community. My biological father, who was ostensibly an ardent supporter of the LGB community, disowned his trans child. I wouldn’t have survived had there not been a trans community that was willing to provide resources and support. This is why I’ve given away 40 to 50 percent of my income for the last couple of years to support trans people. For every person like me who’s making an engineer’s salary, there are people not doing so great, you know? [Fong-Jones’s biological father declined to comment on their relationship.]

Have any of your colleagues responded to you in a way that stood out?

People would ask questions in bad faith. Like, “What about the white men in the industry?” or “Could you explain to me how it’s possible to have more than two genders?” Questions that make your blood boil.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Julian Harris, 39

Washington, D.C.; Licensed independent clinical social worker, therapist
Pronouns: he, him, his

When did you start coming out?

I started my physical transition about 11 years ago, but I knew for quite a while before that. I grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, and you would hear jokes about people getting a sex change, but you would never think it was possible to transition. There was no language around it. When I started therapy in my early 20s, I kind of knew that I wanted to transition. I was concerned about how I’d be perceived by people in my life—whether I could have anyone in my life. I thought I might just be alone, and that was something I said OK to at the time.

I was working in a branding and marketing research firm, trying to figure out what I wanted to be doing, when I was laid off. I started working at a cafe, and I remember thinking, This is probably a great time for me to start my physical transition. I didn’t have to be too involved in my career. It’s hard, you know, transitioning on the job. I didn’t have to go through the discomfort some go through when they start a job as one gender and then transition to another.

Why did you go into the mental health field?

I started volunteering with a peer-support group called the D.C. Area Transmasculine Society. They do things like needle exchange, because trans men who are taking a medical transition do hormone injections. I was facilitating groups, meeting a lot of people like me. I just really enjoyed it and saw myself leaning toward mental health.

I enjoy my work, especially when I work with other trans folk when they’re newly coming out and trying to figure out where their gender identity fits on the spectrum. There’s a sense of understanding, mutual respect, and comfort. I have had experiences where folks sought me out because I was queer-identifying or a person of color. But I’ve also had clients who have not known.

One of the biggest things I’ve noticed in therapy is that people always believe they are the only one. That they’re unique in experiencing this level of sadness or this level of hurt. So when I see someone struggling, I let them know that it’s normal, typical, they’re not the only one. That’s when my personal story can be helpful.

How does your racial identity intersect with your gender identity at work?

The relationship between a client and therapist tends to be a microcosm for their world. Sometimes they’ve never been able to trust a man. Or they’ve been victimized by a man who was black. Or they’re struggling with their own gender identity, and the fact that I’ve been sitting in mine makes them uncomfortable. A lot of times, we produce a reparative relationship. They recognize that I’m not hurting them.

There have been times when clients have been openly transphobic, homophobic, or queerphobic. But it can never be about me. However they feel about trans people doesn’t impact me—not on a personal level. When it comes to institutional structures and people in power who have negative feelings toward a certain population, then, yes, that impacts me. Sometimes people are lashing out because they’re hurt, and you just happen to be the person that’s there. If you can recognize it is not you, then it becomes easier to cope.

What else would you like to add?

For many marginalized people, especially trans folks, you have to intentionally create your own safe spaces. Other people might just not know how to do it. I have the most supportive supervisor—I have been very fortunate there. I’m not sure how many of my colleagues know I’ve transitioned. I’m sure there have been times where I’ve spoken about having transitioned—it’s just never been an issue. It’s been really great, actually.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Victoria Starrett, 32

Los Angeles; Staff attorney, Public Counsel
Pronouns: They, them, theirs

How do you describe your gender identity?

There are so many words going around now. Genderqueer* is something that I also identify with, but nonbinary trans feels the most authentic.

When did you start coming out?

I’ve always been gender nonconforming. For me, it was always about “woman” being not what society said it was. I feel like my identity was more political because it was wrapped up in fighting against stereotypes.

When I realized that [identifying as a woman] just didn’t feel comfortable for me, that was probably about two years ago. I could feel it in my body, how uncomfortable I was using feminine terms and being identified that way. I was fortunate to have some trans friends who were helping me process my feelings. I started slowly shifting from using “she” to “they.” And then when the position [at Public Counsel] became available and I moved from New York City to Los Angeles, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to shift fully into where I felt most comfortable.

Were you worried about coming out at work?

It was sort of terrifying. I didn’t have friends in L.A. before I moved. In my community in New York, there were a lot of trans and nonbinary folks, and I thought it would be even more so in California. Now looking back, I’m not sure what gave me that idea. On my first day, all of the bathrooms were [gender] segregated, except there was a single gender-neutral bathroom in the lobby inside; where everyone works, all of those were segregated. On my fourth day I introduced myself to someone using my pronouns, and they said they didn’t know what that meant, so they weren’t going to use them. The organization has admitted that they weren’t ready for trans folks and nonbinary folks to work there—and, quite frankly, for some of our clients who identify that way. The organization has been taking steps, but it’s been a long road to get here.

We had a training session around gender and gender identity. Someone submitted an anonymous comment that [the trainer] had spoken about trans people as if they were real, and we all know they’re not. People were really outraged. There was this idea that everyone was very progressive and very welcoming, and people needed to confront the fact that that’s simply not true. [They] reached out to our LGBTQIA* support group to say, How can we be supportive? How can we be allies in this? Being a new employee, it was around this issue that I met people.

Management is looking into a contractor to convert two of the segregated-sex bathrooms to gender neutral. In some ways, it’s been painful, because I feel like there have been a number of excuses to justify the delay. But you know, I’m also trying to make space for the fact that not everyone is where I’m at. Not everyone is as comfortable with everything. [Margaret Morrow, president and CEO of Public Counsel, says she and her staff are “proud of the changes we’ve made,” and that Victoria’s coming forward has “made us a better organization.”]

How is your experience being nonbinary different from binary trans people’s?

Society has now seen binary trans folk. When there’s representation like that, your brain makes space for that. For me, moving through this world, I am always feeling like a fraud. Like, am I queer enough? Am I trans enough? Can I even use that label for myself? No matter where I go, I’m going to have to do a lot of work to prepare people to be more inclusive.

What else would you like to add?

I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that the fact that I’m white and an attorney has surely meant that I have had a relatively easier time advocating for changes at work and my medical care. Having those privileges compels me to use them to try to shift the culture. I think about the clients who walk through the door. Particularly in my field—detained immigrants who are often queer and trans, are often people of color, and often speak a primary language other than English. They’re at the intersection of all of these areas that have been the most marginalized. I think about future employees who are going to come in, and I want them to be able to walk into a safe space. I’m so grateful that the organization is taking steps to set up that culture.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Ashley Oerth, 25

New York; Investment strategy analyst, OppenheimerFunds Inc.
Pronouns: She, her, hers

Were you worried about coming out at work?

A large part of what held me back from coming out was the perception that the financial-services industry has a conservative culture with casual instances of homophobia and transphobia. I have seen aspects of this, but I have also been impressed by the general level of openness among individuals of all backgrounds in my industry. One of my colleagues had come across a social media profile of mine that outed me well before I was ready to bring myself fully into the workplace, but he respected my privacy. My manager has been and continues to be an active ally. If I had known I would have gotten this reception, I would have begun my coming-out process much sooner.

Did your health plan cover the medical care you needed?

There were limitations in the plan I was initially on when I joined the company, which meant I’d need to switch to a different, less preferred hormonal treatment until open enrollment began the next year. I spent eight months speaking with insurance representatives about getting my first procedure covered and was given varied, inconsistent guidance about the documentation required. I spent an additional 10 months waiting to have the procedure. Three months ago, I began the same process for another procedure, this one newly, although only partially, covered. Even with meaningful connections through health-care providers and experts, senior HR colleagues at my firm, and advocates for the trans community, I still spend hours on the phone and doing my own research to make my health care happen.

What support, if any, did your company offer you?

My earliest resources were through the company’s LGBTQ+ employee resource group. This small network helped me identify allies in the office whom I could come out to and begin to build a support network. Our human resources team was very helpful, albeit new to the process. We worked together to develop transition guidelines for employees and managers, which served as the framework for my own experience.

I now co-chair the best practices committee for Open Finance, a volunteer network of financial-services firms that combines the expertise of employee resource groups to drive forward LGBT equality and diversity. Open Finance is in the early stages of developing a transgender health access initiative in collaboration with the World Professional Association for Transgender Health.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

At least once a week—usually by me. For me personally, it’s important to educate my cisgender* peers on the experiences, challenges, and diversity of trans individuals.

How has coming out as trans affected the way your co-workers treat you?

I often wonder how my experience would be if I didn’t mostly pass as a cisgender woman. While I’m grateful for the positive reception and support of my team, I did notice that some colleagues outside of my group may have stopped saying hi to me in the hallways, and I catch some staring now and then.

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

Precious Brady-Davis, 33

Chicago; Regional communications manager, Sierra Club
Pronouns: She, her, hers; diva

When did you start coming out?

There’s not just one coming out. I was the kind of kid that people asked me if I was gay in fourth grade. I just knew I was fabulous. I wore high heels and put glitter in my hair. As time went on, it was extremely hard for my grandparents. My grandma was a very religious, spiritual woman. She would say, “Stop switching!” And I didn’t know what that meant.

My first job out of college I oversaw an LGBT youth center. I transitioned on the job, and I felt that I was being boxed into working outreach about trans youth—I was dealing with the bureaucracy of a social service that didn’t understand the needs of the community they were serving. I’ll never forget, an office space opened up, and the COO came in—he was changing the locks, getting it ready for someone new. I said to him, “I can’t wait until the day that I have that office.” And he said, “That will never happen.”

Up to that point, that’s all I thought I could do as a trans woman. I said to myself, I deserve something better. Yes, I am a proud trans biracial woman. But I feel that we need to be integrated into other communities, other workplaces in order to wield influence and power.

Did any of your colleagues at the LGBTQ center react to you transitioning in a way that stood out to you?

They wouldn’t change my name in the email system. They told me that I had to legally change my name before they would change it. My colleagues were great and supportive—it was the administration that was not supportive. It’s the little things, you know? I should have sued them.

How often does your gender identity come up at work?

At Sierra Club, my transness never comes up. Never. Never. Ever. Even in the entire hiring process, it never ever came up. It’s not an issue.

How do you describe your gender identity?

I’m a proud trans woman with a splash of queerness.

What does it mean to you to be a trans woman of color in the workplace?

I often feel it’s more being a woman of color in the workplace that inhibits [my] moving forward. I’ve experienced a lot of silencing of my voice at the behest of white men because I don’t have a master’s or Ph.D. They silence my personal experience as if it’s not valid. At Sierra Club, that hasn’t been an issue. I work with several women of color, and we vibe off each other’s energy.

Having worked with trans youth, what do you want for the next generation?

There needs to be more than one narrative of transness. We need to see trans people who are out, trans people who are not. Trans people who are airplane pilots, teachers, working at McDonald’s down the street, trans people who are CEOs and executives, sisters, brothers, parents. We need to show that we are the part of the fabric of society, part of humanity. There’s a thought that transness is just glamorous, and, yes, there’s a beauty to being your authentic self. But it’s also gritty in the navigation of that experience, especially as a professional. The support of social networks is so important. I want trans kids to know you can bring your authentic self to whatever you do.

[Bloomberg Philanthropies provides support for the Sierra Club’s Beyond Coal campaign, which Brady-Davis works on.]

(Interviews edited for length and clarity)

Get to Know Your Trans Co-Workers

*GLOSSARY OF TERMS:

Body contouring: surgical intervention to bring the body closer into line with gender norms

Gender expression: external presentation of gender identity, through clothing, haircut, voice pitch, etc.

Transitioning: changing one’s gender expression to conform with one’s gender identity; may involve any or all of the following: counseling, changing one’s name and/or clothing, hormone treatments, gender confirmation surgery

Gender nonconforming: someone whose gender expression doesn't conform to societal expectations for either gender in the binary (see below)

Top surgery: for transgender men, this involves mastectomy and chest reconstruction; for transgender women, breast augmentation

Dysphoria: refers to gender dysphoria, recognized by the American Psychiatric Association as involving “a conflict between a person’s physical or assigned gender and the gender with which they identify”

Binary: refers to the gender binary, either male or female; the gender spectrum includes gender identities that fall in between or outside the binary

Genderqueer: similar to gender nonconforming; the word “queer” on its own can also refer to sexuality

LGBTQIA: lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual; also shown as LGBT+ or LGBTQ+

Cisgender: describes someone whose assigned gender conforms to their gender identity and expression

To contact the editor responsible for this story: Jillian Goodman at jgoodman74@bloomberg.net

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