Transgender Discrimination at the Highest Levels of Government

I find myself baffled at the just plain old meanness and nastiness of the Trump Administration. Trump himself seems to delight in being mean to others. He has clearly shown himself to be what he has been all along: a bully, an insecure man who demands loyalty and cannot cope with those who do not hand over their loyalty to him. Perhaps someone should remind him that loyalty per his own oath of office and that of every federal employee is to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States of America. It is not to pledge loyalty to any single individual or group….just to the Constitution.

His stance against transgender men and women serving in the United States military is not justifiable by any logical measure. But then again, we are not dealing with logic here. Any person who wants to serve or is serving in the military should be judged by only one standard: Does she or he meet the mental and physical requirements to serve. Those are essentially the same for cisgender men and women. Why should there be a different standard for transgender men and women? There should not be. Anything else is purely and blatantly discrimination based on gender expression and gender identity. Such discrimination is wrong and unjustifiable.

Trump’s position, regardless of what his military “experts” tell him is at odds with the policies of our major allies. Canada, Australia and Israel, to name only three, all allow transgender women and men to serve in their military units. Are we really so arrogant that we think they are wrong and we are right here?

Integrity USA stands in support of transgender women and men serving in our military.

We do so with the full backing of The Episcopal Church. Canon law in The Episcopal Church prohibits discrimination against transgender women and men (as well as a host of other variations in the human expression of sexuality, ability, etc.). “The law,” so to speak is on the books and has been for several years now.

I urge everyone who reads this to do exactly what I have been imploring all to do for months now: call, email, write, visit your elected representatives in the House of Representatives and in the Senate. Make your opinions known. Cite the canon law that governs our church. Cite basic human dignity and decency. Cite the decisions rendered by a number of courts that prohibits such discrimination.

It is time to raise some hell, my kindred in Christ. It’s time we flipped the tables of the money changers in the Temple. Our transgender kinfolk need us now more than ever.

Remember that when the civil and human rights of any begin to be chipped away by prejudice, bigotry, meanness and nastiness, there is nothing to prevent those same bigots from going after the other civil and human rights we have. Speak out. Silence will still equal death.

Bruce Garner
President, Integrity USA

Oh Lord, Make Me New: Reflections on Creating Change

When I first became employed by Integrity, I made a series of phone calls to our members to situate myself in the work and introduce myself. As a long-time gay rights>LGB>LGBTQIA equality activist (since the 70’s, where I lived in Dupont Circle in D.C. and worked at Lambda Rising) I have witnessed decades of contention over where our work should focus, and I wanted to feel out where folks saw us now. Unsurprisingly, I kept hearing, “what will we do, now that marriage is finished?” and “we’re exhausted; our members have all retired to rest and recover.”

Burnout is a very real phenomenon. Exhaustion is a by-product of having too-few resources and fighting not just singular “bad” politicians, but entire institutions built to bolster this very inequity.  It relies on our exhaustion, and it depends on some of us being very comfortable, too comfortable in fact to always see how others suffer.

This is the downside of so-called marriage equality. We have exhausted ourselves doing laudable, important work—absolutely—but we find ourselves in some ways no closer to equality than we were before the “true blessing.”  Hate crimes are still happening; women still earn less; people of color experience these disparities of violence and economy in ways that cannot fail to shock those of us paying attention.

Thank God we have a relationship with Christ! We need him now more than ever!

During the beginning of this month I traveled to Creating Change in Denver to participate in the Transgender Leadership Exchange under the aegis of the LGBTQ Task Force. I spent a day in a Faith workshop, with other activists, church leaders, rabbis, shaman, druids, and priests. We are nothing if not spiritually eclectic! The focus of the workshop was “how do we care for ourselves so we can care for our community?”  Fatigue was a spectral participant. But we were present enough to critique the rhetoric of “anti-oppression.” I think we all intuitively understood it was the “anti” that was sapping our ranks.

Surrendering to God’s mercy means giving up the fight. What I resist persists. In earth-bound strategies for policy change both in our Church and without it can feel like only some of us “do the work” while others appear complacent. The wounds we've borne and the trauma we've experienced—living as lesser citizens, and under the constant thrum of violence—carries into our work and we feel attacked, beaten up. Often by our own. Surrendering seems counter-intuitive; haven’t we gotten this far by forceful demands to be recognized as equals?

In this regard, fighting for equality in our church has been devastating. It took a lot of human will and energy against a deep-seated culture of “we've always done it this way.” We come to the work already tired, we come to our church to be revitalized but we find no peace there either.  And the work is not done.

At the leadership summit I experienced a lot of hostility towards marriage equality. “It’s not equality when only some of us can afford to do it!” a young white transwoman said. “It’s not equality when Latina transwomen have a one-in-eight chance of being murdered,” snapped another.  I was in a room with twenty, mostly youthful (to me, under 35!) activists. They were bitterly angry and hurt by a movement they saw as working only for white equality, only for rights for the wealthy. They were there to hold our movement accountable, to say “we who are dying no longer accept your taking money and energy from us to do work that is not for us.”

I could hear that. As a white, 54 year old transmasculine person, I can finally relax. I mostly pass nowadays, and it’s extraordinarily liberating to not feel the heat of stares and stings of remarks, not to mention violence. But as a woman, I experienced the abuse, the ridiculous salaries, the generous hostility; I have been violently harassed, assaulted, and raped. As a lesbian, I've been chased by cars, followed by strangers, denied jobs, and even housing. In this I feel a kinship with my trans*sisters. But what about my own exhaustion? I’m weary! Some days I just don’t have anything to give. I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m sick, and I’m tired. I have fibromyalgia, arthritis, headaches, depression. How can I show up for justice when even in our own community there seems to be none?

This is where my practice must begin. On my knees. I cannot, we cannot, fight oppression without exhausting ourselves. In my earnest desire for freedom, I forget sometimes that I am already free. I am a being without limit, without end, because I am a child of God. I have a relationship with the only One, the only thing with meaning, the only place of real love. If I am to attend to the earthly work I am so compelled by, this work of LGBTQ justice, I must gently remind myself where true power lies. There, there is nothing to fight. I can stand my ground, rally my congregation, lobby my bishop, but when I forget what’s real and what’s meaningful, this work will become very tiring indeed. I begin to resent others who “work less.” I begin to believe that the work depends on me to get done. I forget there is a deeper agenda, an inspirited agenda, working through me and for me. And I forget that you are my ally, that we’re in this together, and I begin to recreate you as my enemy.

So as I learned at Creating Change, if you are tired, rest Sister. Rest Brother. Some of us will carry others now. Our weariness needs attention and our spirits need loving kindness. And still, I cannot mistake the freedom of some as the freedom of all, nor mistake my exhaustion for mine alone. Let us rejoice that we know the truth, and that we are on a mission to carry this truth everywhere: that God loves us all, that we are all equally endowed with grace and love! I am learning, a day at a time, not only to give my hurt and my weariness over to Christ, but to offer yours too. Only then can I be open to hear that there is more work, and that I can participate in ways that stretch but don’t break me, because I have found the source of illimitable strength.

“Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

Oh Lord, make me new. Amen.


Sam Peterson is the Development Director at Integrity USA

A Bridge Too Far for NJ's Transgender Population... For Now

Attention on New Jersey's traffic problems kept another story largely out of the headlines, but for the state's transgender population, its effects will last a lot longer than four days.

Trans* Equality advocate Stephanie Battaglino (R) with
her partner Mari (C) and  Orange is the New Black star
Laverne Cox (L) at the annual Women's Event
at NYC's LGBT Community Center in Nov. 2013

On January 13th, Governor Chris Christie vetoed a bill that would have allowed transgender or intersex folks to change the gender on their birth certificates without having to first undergo gender reassignment surgery.  The bill (A4097/S2786) passed in both houses of the New Jersey legislature, but not with enough votes to override the Governor's veto, which stated in part that the bill as proposed would lead to "significant legal uncertainties and create opportunities for fraud, deception, and abuse."

For the state's LGBT activists, it looked clear that the veto was actually about a matter unrelated to those who would be affected. Babs Casbar Siperstein, political director for the Gender Rights Advocacy Association of New Jersey, called it "Arbitrary, capricious and designed to harm transgender people who are the most vulnerable among LGBT New Jerseyans."  Troy Stevenson of Garden State Equality asserted that it was "a vindictive move to punish the LGBT community after a year of tremendous progress."  And -- politics being what they are -- it is in fact hard to ignore the fact that a co-sponsor of the Senate version of the bill is Senate Majority Leader Loretta Weinberg.  A longtime champion of the LGBT community, she also happens to be co-chairing the bicameral committee investigating another act of obstruction which has gotten far more news coverage than this one.

On the flip side, Christie -- who also vetoed a bicameral marriage equality bill in 2012, only to have the state's highest court rule it into being this fall -- did approve a law making New Jersey only the second state to ban "reparative therapy" for minors.  These forms of treatment and counseling, which purport to change "unwanted" same-gender attraction, have been condemned by the American Psychological Association and other professional groups as misleading at best, irreparably harmful at worst.  

The transgender bill's Assembly co-sponsor Valerie Vainieri Huttle (D-Bergen) saw reason for hope even in the fact of rejection. "Gov. Christie's veto suggests that with safeguards he would have signed this legislation," she told the Newark Star-Ledger. "I plan to work with my colleagues and the Governor's office to get this legislation done during the next session."

But in the meantime, there is still rejection which -- political speculation aside -- feels very personal.  Stephanie Battaglino, an insurance executive who also does public advocacy work for trans* workplace rights, expressed her reactions on her blog:

"Caught in the cross hairs once again. First it was the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA) back in 2007 when we were summarily stripped out of the bill as a protected class in an effort to make it more – you should pardon the expression – passable. And now in my own backyard – this veto. Do people think we somehow like it underneath the proverbial bus that we always seem to get thrown under? Or is it perhaps that we are too easy a target? 'Need a punching bag? Roll out the transgender community, nobody cares about them anyway. They’re just a bunch of wackos on the lunatic fringe.'"

Stephanie is also an Episcopalian, one of our own, and has shared her own faith journey from the pulpit and other speaking engagements.  She articulated how important a milestone getting her own revised certificate was, which helps explain why the bill's failing was so wounding:

"I can assure you that to many of us in the trans community, an amended birth certificate is by no means merely a piece of paper. It is so much more than that. It is a panacea for many. I can remember when I received mine in the mail a few months after my surgery. It meant everything to me to see my mother and father’s name, the hospital in Newark where I was born that is no longer there, the date and time of my birth – and most importantly my full female name. It is more than an understatement to say it was completing. I remember thinking to myself through my tears of joy, 'this is the way it was always supposed to be – and now it is.' To deny someone of that feeling of completeness because of a perceived lack of 'appropriate safeguards' is at best totally lacking in compassion, and at its worst, inhumane."

To Stephanie, the best way to help society continue to evolve is by getting out there and letting them experience her as a human being, rather than an issue or a condition:

"I often say in my speaking engagements 'just give me five minutes' and you’ll come away with a much different perspective about transgender people. To briefly paraphrase Dr. Martin Luther King, if you must judge at all, than work with me to create a forum whereby I can be judged on the content of my character – the content of my 'human-ness.'"

Integrity seeks to foster this dialogue and education whenever and wherever possible.  The Institute for Welcoming Resources, of which Integrity is a coalition partner, offers TransAction, a curriculum for congregations better understand and welcome transgender people to be a part of their community.  Stephanie and others share a ministry of engaging people in conversation about these topics. If your congregation or group is interested in hosting an enlightening event, please contact us.

Christian Paolino is the Chair of Integrity's Stakeholders' Council

In Massachusetts, An Unfolding Dream

It's been a tense, exciting day in the Boston area as the legislation known as the "Transgender Equal Rights Bill" makes its way out of the Judiciary Committee for the first time in six years.  The bill is heading to the legislature with a vote expected tonight or tomorrow as the winter recess approaches.  

Yesterday the Boston Globe and Boston Herald reported on the impending vote, and this morning both papers reported on dueling press conferences in which the bill's opponents called the vote a "distraction" from economic issues.  When one such representative argued, "The goals of the advocates is to have this litigated in the courts,” he was confronted by Ken and Marcia Garber.  The Garbers' transgender son was, as the Globe explained,"bullied and discriminated against before he lost his life to a drug overdoes at the age of 20." When the representative "said he did not have time to answer their question because he was late to a meeting," the Garbers, faithful members of Dignity Boston, "challenged Lombardo’s contention that the transgender bill is a distraction from bills that would protect the state’s economic future, [saying] 'Some of these people will never have a future if they don’t do something' to pass the legislation."

The trans community had strong victories late last Spring with Connecticut and Nevada added to the ranks of the now fifteen states and 132 counties and cities  with nondiscrimination and hate crimes protections.  

This drama happens to be unfolding during Massachusetts' "Transgender Awareness Week," in which a number of colleges, universities and other community spaces are holding trans-themed events.  The culmination of the week is the twelfth annual observance of the Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR).  Though international in scope, the TDOR movement was sparked by a death here in Allston, about a mile away from where I write.   Rocker Rita Hester was murdered on November 28, 1998 almost three years to the day after the loss of Chanelle Pickett on November 20, 1995.  A growing number of Episcopal (and other) congregations have been hosting TDOR events in solidarity with trans communities, even as the observances themselves usually avoid the languages, music or imagery of specific (or at least any one) religious traditions.  Indeed, in his TDOR welcome at a packed Cathedral Church of St. Paul last November, Bishop M. Thomas Shaw offered an apology to the gathered community for the ways in which Christian communities in particular have failed to welcome trans people and have, as he put it, "misrepresented God" to us.  I posted a piece about that TDOR here.  This Sunday the Boston TDOR will take place once again at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul. 

Today Bishop Shaw reiterated his support, that of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts (as of its 2008 Convention), and that of The Episcopal Church (as of the 2009 General Convention) for the legislation.  His statement reads,

"Hopeful that after six years the transgender equal rights bill will come to the Massachusetts Legislature for a vote this week, I continue to urge lawmakers to support it.  Now is the time to carry civil liberty for all people another step forward by safeguarding the equality and honoring the human dignity of transgender people.  Passing the bill this week will serve as a powerful sign of hope, particularly as Transgender Day of Remembrance is being observed at our Cathedral Church of St. Paul in Boston this Sunday.  I pray that Massachusetts will open this new door this week so that we might step through it together toward social justice for all." 

The full text of the statement is available on the Diomass website, here.

As it so happens, Sunday is also one of the major examples of what I call "hinge days" in the liturgical year, those days in the Christian calendar that form us with peculiar intensity as we move from one liturgical season to the next.  November 20th marks the last Sunday after Pentecost, otherwise known as the Feast of Christ the King or the Reign (or perhaps, as Verna Dozier might put it, the Dream) of Christ.  Sunday's gospel text from Matthew 25 issues the ultimate challenge of justice from the Son of Humanity, enthroned in eschatalogical splendor:  will we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, visit the imprisoned?  As we "do it unto the least of these," we "do it unto" Christ, we are reminded with unsettling specificity. 

As the battle over this legislation heats up, I find myself seeking to be present to it as a holy time and space, as an invitation to be, as Bishop Shaw often puts it, opened.  It strikes me that this openness is not simply a static state of welcome and inclusion, but an ongoing process of being opened, transformed by God, ushered into new ways of being in the world, into a new time and space that Christians name as the reign or dream of God. That notion of openness is unsettling and challenging indeed, but hopeful and promising beyond our wildest imaginings.  May it be—may it become – so.

Rev. Dr. Cameron Partridge is the Episcopal Chaplain at Boston University and a Lecturer at Harvard University.