Kevin, "Trans with Privilege".
"I am a doctoral fellow here at UNT, teaching in the art education program. I'm a 45-year-old man of trans experience. I used to be the director of Denton Transendence, which is a support group for trans people, family, friends, and allies, so it takes a hollistic approach to trans support."
Could you tell me about your experience?
"Well, my book title is Trans with Privilege, and it's one of those things I was thinking about the other day, that there's this sort of narrative that goes around about being trans as if it's this homogeneous experience without taking into consideration intersectionality and how privilege can happen within the trans community. I have to take into account the great privilege I have now walking through life as a heterosexual white man who's highly educated, as opposed to friends I have who transitioned in different ways to where it actually deprivileges them. One of the young adults in my family is a trans woman, and so I have to think about even within my own family, both of our positions have shifted, with me being read as male, and my niece going from male to female. With similar family, neither of us are treated well, but even within that, they'll be more cautious about how they disrespect me, as opposed to how they disrespect her.
Lately I've been reminded of this story where in 1993 my motorcycle broke down on the highway off I-35 & Rosedale in Fort Worth in the middle of the night. I had to try and find a payphone to call some friends to help me out. Walking around at that time & place, alone in the dark, as a fairly small person, being read as female, it wasn't the safest place. When I found a payphone, I realized I had no money. I saw person coming from around the corner of an abandoned building. It was this very tall women in tall heels and a green dress, in the middle of the night, on Rosedale. Sure enough it was a sex worker, but also a trans woman of color. At the time I thought 'I don't want this person near me.' I had a lot of assumptions. They asked me if I needed help, and even though I insisted I didn't, she knew I was scared, and she even knew I was scared of her. She pulled some money out of her purse, and I was able to call my friends. I told her I was fine and she could leave, but she knew things about the area I didn't, and wanted to make sure I was safe while I waited. When my friends pull up, I went to talk to them, and when I turn around, she was already gone. I think she was worried, knowing if I'm afraid of her, who knows what my friends are like, and there's more of us and there's just her. It's interesting to think when we look at trans people, I have what's called 'passing privilege'. Most people have no idea that I'm trans without me telling them. There are so many people who may or may not have passing privilege, which can make things dangerous, especially when sex workers are already targets for violence anyway, and the highest rates of violence are against trans women of color. We often hear about trans people as victims, and here was this woman who stepped up. Didn't know me and made sure that I was safe."
What were some changes in privilege you noticed before & after your transition?
"Oh wow, let's see! I've been a professor for several years, and when I started to transition, I did a little experiment. I was getting emails that were really hostile over little things, and they always start with Ms, Mrs, my first name, or just Hey. They would be really demanding emails, saying 'You need to do this...'. Whatever I wrote back, no matter how professionally written, I would be perceived as a bitch. I changed my name on Blackboard, and started replying to emails as Mr. Jenkins. After about a week, even within the same semester and same group of students, about 80% of the emails changed completely in tone, saying 'Mr. Jenkins, if you get a chance...'
On the other hand, around the same time, I took a night class at TWU. I was walking along the sidewalk after class, a million things going through my head, not thinking of my surroundings, except noticing a girl walking a bit in front of me. I was only 8 months into my transition, and after 42 years of thinking I need to bundle up next to somebody at night for safety, I wasn't thinking about how there was no one around us and I'm walking in pace right behind her. I notice her keep looking around. I thought 'I wonder why she keeps looking over her shoulder like that?' and it suddenly hit me 'Oh my god, it's me! I'm like the creepy guy walking too close!' So I stopped to tie my shoes and let her go on. Those are things I had to stop being aware of. Not that I would do anything, but that's the perception, that I could be that guy who might do something."