Diamondback Online - The University of Maryland's Independent Daily Student Newspaper

Issue date: 10/12/06 Section: On-campus news

Robert hates the word 'transgender'. His gender has always been male; it was never in transition. He hates the word 'transsexual' because it is misconstrued and demeaning.

Born a biological female, Robert never felt comfortable in his body. Like many other young people on the campus who feel their biology betrays their true identity, Robert has struggled for years with how to define himself.

On Sept. 22, Robert got his first shot of testosterone - part of the hormone therapy that will deepen his voice, spur the growth of facial hair, redistribute his body fat and stop his menstrual cycle. It is his first step in a journey that will physically change his body into what he has always felt it should be: male.

Robert is part of a population on the campus who identify as transgender - or people who identify and live as a person of the opposite gender. Though it is difficult to gauge how many transgender students are on the campus, Robert is part of a vulnerable campus demographic who are not specifically protected by the university's Human Relations Code, a policy that outlines how to eliminate discrimination on the campus.

Two years ago, the state vetoed the campus' decision to include "gender identity and expression" in the code's list of protections. Rather, university President Dan Mote decided that though the term could not be explicitly written, the campus could interpret the code to protect those students regardless.

The university began a long march to adding protections such as adding unisex bathrooms, educating the campus and rethinking Resident Life policies.

"There are places on campus where we really do a really good job in talking about gender and making sure people understand that sex and gender are not the same thing, although if you go to Webster's Dictionary you may not find that distinction," said Luke Jensen, the university's director of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender equity.

Still, the lack of specific recognition for transgender students makes them less likely to come forward, Jensen said. Robert knows just how hard it is to start off as a transgender student on the campus.

Moving into a quad with three girls freshmen year was a nightmare, Robert said. Resident Life's policy on transgender students was extremely vague and going to their offices to say "Hi, I'm trans. Deal with me," was "not high on my list of things to do, frankly," he said.

Instead, Robert - who dresses in men's clothing - gave way to having various conversations about "gender presentation" with his roommates. When he tried explaining his views about gender being a social construct, things would start to get confusing.

"You have to have a thick skin and a sense of humor or you'll go crazy," he said.

Finally, by the spring semester, he worked up courage to talk to Resident Life, which found him another residence. He moved to New Leonardtown, and the next year was able to bring in friends who understood him.

He contacted Jensen, who helped change his gender listing in the university system. By then, Robert had already found a support system with the campus chapter of Trans U, which was facilitated by a female-to-male leader.

"If we understand gender to be a self-concept or identity ... it becomes easier to see how somebody isn't going to fit [into] male or female," Jensen said.

Now Robert has come to terms with his gender identity. He lives off the campus - where most transgender students opt to reside, Jensen said - and is the facilitator of Trans U and speaks to introductory and women's studies classes about gender issues. Starting hormone therapy has finally made him feel like he is taking steps to becoming himself.

"Part of me is like, 'I'm happy this is happening,' and another part of me is like, 'Finally, it's about f--king time!,'" he said.

Getting to this point wasn't so easy.

Growing up in a small town in Wyoming, Robert always dressed like a tomboy. He remembers being forced to wear a dress only three times, and said each time was "traumatizing." Dresses weren't for him, they were too "girlie".

He hated how he felt in them, and thankfully his mother, Peggy, who said she was a tomboy herself, "never pushed the dress thing," much after that.

"I may not see Robert as female as her sisters, but I'm not sure I see her as male," she said. "That's tough for me. For me, she's somewhere in between."

Even at an early age, Robert resented how people used gender. When Robert was told he had to leave male friends' birthday parties because "girls weren't allowed at the sleepover," he was confused and angered. When an elementary school principal told a student Robert got in a fight with that "we don't hit girls," he was completely indignant.

"I was kicking his ass!" Robert said.

By sixth grade, his parents divorced and Robert moved to Colorado with his mother. They stayed in the Midwest for a year and a half before coming to the area for the end of middle school, a horrible period as he recalls. The onslaught of puberty brought a "horrendous betrayal of my body," Robert said. As a childish tomboy, he'd been able to ignore (at least sometimes) the disconnect between his body and his mind. But as a developing teen, what was he supposed to do with breasts?

A loathing for his own body began that year, and starting freshmen year in a high school with a larger population than his entire Wyoming hometown meant "trying to be myself, and being a little bit more angry about it," Robert recalls. "I hadn't really started or finished dealing with puberty."

It was around this time he began to realize that his discomfort with his own femininity was more serious, and he began struggling to find solutions.

"By 11th grade, it was like, 'Oh wait, this isn't going away, and it's never going to be right unless I do something about it," he said.

Robert, who was always attracted to males, had dated a boy but felt wrong. To prove to society that he was a boy, he began acting as a traditional male would - dressing in male clothes (he insisted on wearing a fake tuxedo front for his yearbook picture) and dating girls.

"I started considering myself bisexual junior year, basically when I started dating my girlfriend," Robert said. "Looking back its like, 'Wait, how the hell did that happen?'"

It was when he was dating a girl and considering himself bisexual that Robert began reading LGBT websites. He stumbled upon the transgender concept and began "kicking it around, trying it on in my brain."

"I started reaffirming to myself that these people actually existed, that it was actually a possibility," he said.

Now Robert identifies as a gay man, and his sexual orientation is the hardest thing to explain, he said. Some friends and family don't understand why he "wants to be a boy" when he is attracted to boys. If he had just stayed a "straight girl," life would have been so much easier, they say.

Robert disagreed. Betraying his gender and his sexuality is inconceivable.

"I'm trans because I'm a guy, I'm not a guy because I'm trans," Robert said.

With his male dress and demeanor, Robert said he now has a "passing privilege" that allows him to use male restrooms on the campus without trouble.

The true test for him is how others refer to him in the third person - something that still gives his mother trouble after referring to Robert as "she" for 20 years.

"I try to avoid the pronouns but I'm still not good at it," Peggy said. "It's hard to reconcile. Because I gave birth to Robert, I figured I would know him pretty well. I always figured Robert defied labeling."

Aside from those who've known him since birth, Robert figures the majority of people he interacts with perceive him as male.

"Some people have this mindset that I'm being deceptive, like I should tell people 'the truth,'" he said. "But I'm like, 'Do you go up to people and say hi my name is John and I'm a guy?'"

"If everyone's mind was wiped, and we all had to start over, would there even be gender?" Robert asked. "Gender is socially defined. Society tells us that there are only two genders, which is obviously bullshit."

Contact reporter Kevin Rector at rectordbk@gmail.com.

Page 1 of 1

Article Tools