Michelle, 20, Bronx, NY
My fiancé and I had a discussion about me dressing up as Michelle. When I told him I wanted to be fully transgender, he said he didn’t want me to have the operation. Tom’s worried about my safety. I would like to start hormones, but I feel like I pass as a woman already. I have man boobs. I’ve had them since I was 11 years old.
My fiancé and I met last year when I was living at the Ali Forney Center. Ever since then, we just started calling and talking to each other. Living in a shelter, things get stolen. My money, my wallet and my IDs were all taken. When I finally told Tom, he said, “Move in with me.” I said, “Okay.” Ever since then, we’ve grown a little more. He proposed in March. It was a total surprise. I think I have a total Cinderella package.
Tom is 43. Some of my friends grill me about the age difference. Age is nothing but a number. You’re not going to pass the opportunity for having true love. He is guiding me right now. He loves me no matter what.
Other than Tom, I also get strength from my grandfather, who pushed me to take what has happened and give me a chance for freedom. He calls me sometimes, but he knows I’m kind of in hiding from my immediate family.
I can’t say I don’t miss my family. I will miss them, especially my little brother. They don’t pick up their cell phones. I’ve left emails, messages, et cetera. It really hurts, but I have to live with it.
I think my mom is upset that I left her. The fact is that I was the one who did everything for her. I’d make coffee, make breakfast, do homework, get the other kids ready. After school, I’d go to work, come home and do the same thing over again. She’s pissed because she lost the one kid who did anything for her.
A lot has happened with my family. The story starts in my hometown: Mobile, Alabama. I came out as gay to my mother at 13. She knew my stepfather wouldn’t like the fact that he had a gay son, so she didn’t tell him until I was 18. She was right. I got kicked out when he found out.
The next night I had to sleep in one of the sheds at Home Depot. I walked 23 miles to get to my grandfather on the other side of town. My grandfather paid my way to come up to New York by bus.
In New York I was living with my cousins, but we got into some arguments and disagreements and I had to leave. My grandfather had to go back to India, so I didn’t have his help in the same way anymore.
After I left my cousin’s place I went to the Belleview Men’s Shelter, but I was too young. They referred me to Sylvia’s Place, where you have to sleep on the floor. Then I got accepted into Ali Forney.
Through friends at Ali Forney, I became a member of the activist group, Fierce. It was actually at Fierce’s annual Halloween party that I first dressed up as a woman. I feel more comfortable in women’s clothes. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always played with my mother’s high heels.
Fierce has helped me become an activist and a better person. Through Fierce, I also volunteer for Queers for Economic Justice. Now I want to become a psychiatrist. I want to defend the people who can’t really defend themselves. I want to give them what I learned.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Bronx, NY, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Kaden, 18, NJ
Two summers ago I played violin as a street performer in New York City as a way to make money for my top surgery. I loved everything about it. I played lots of stuff people would recognize: the Mario theme song, SpongeBob and some classical stuff too.
More than the music, the way you make the most money is by getting to know people. If you would just play, they’d maybe give you a dollar. If I connected with someone, they’d give me $5. If they thought I was homeless, they’d give me $10. If I thought they were giving me money for being homeless, I’d give half of it to charity.
You can be anything when you’re street performing. I would make up different names and different backgrounds. No one cares who you are. I’d test out male names. This was before I was on testosterone, but I passed as male 98 percent of the time. It helped me a lot during my transition.
It’s also a really great way to meet girls. Usually tourists, which was perfect, because we’d hang out and then they’d go back where they came from. I had a whole routine worked out. I’d take them to the Ferris wheel in Toys R Us, then to Magnolia Bakery in the Village. If they hadn’t figured it out already, sometimes I’d tell them I was transgender at Magnolia Bakery. Because you can’t be mad at Magnolia Bakery. But if it’s not going to be something serious, they don’t particularly need to know that I’m transgender.
I’m in community college right now. It sucks, but I’m saving money for top surgery this summer. At school, I don’t tell people I’m transgender. I’m kind of living a double life.
All my applications are in for next year. I’m so excited. I went to visit SUNY Purchase. SUNY Purchase is my safety school, and I like it, and it’s less expensive than the others, so I’ll probably go there. The thing I don’t like about Purchase is I don’t really want to be out, and I know so many people there.
I’m going to go by a new name in college. I got a new driver’s license and everything, but I’m not telling many people. Kaden is my transition name. I had my friends vote on it. Not many people call me by my permanent guy’s name. My parents said they’ll start calling me it, but to just let them know when.
As Kaden, I’m so associated with being transgender. If you meet other trans guys, a lot of times they know who I am because of all the YouTube videos I’ve made. I’m not the first trans person to be on YouTube. A lot of older guys were. Now there are about 200 young trans guys who are actively making videos. Once in a while I get a hate email. If someone happens to stumble upon the video, they might write something nasty, but it’s not people specifically targeting trans people.
Through YouTube, I’ve connected with lots of other people. When I was in London for spring break I organized a meet-up. I’ve organized two and a half other meet-ups in New York City. The one around Christmas at the Center got about 50 people.
I open the invitation to anyone. I just make sure no creepers are checking up. We’ve never had a problem. I’m just paranoid. I have a lot of Internet stalkers.
I’m going to keep making videos because they help me document my transition. They also help people come out. It’s a good way to show transgender people as real people. The media doesn’t cover trans people that much, so we kind of make our own media.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in New Jersey, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Ryan, 17, Long Island, NY
I feel like this isn’t my body. In my mind right now, walking around my room, I feel like a boy. Then I know when I walk in the shower I’m going to totally freak out. I try to shower in the morning when I’ve just woke up, because I’m focused on what’s going to happen in the day and my eyes aren’t really open yet.
Once I get my top surgery I don’t think I’ll feel that way. Bottom surgery isn’t the top priority for me right now. Everyone has to wear pants. It’s not like it’s hard to hide, and right now bottom surgery is really terrible and expensive. Technology is always advancing, so maybe I’ll have bottom surgery some day when it’s better.
I’m starting hormone blocker treatments next week, so after I have top surgery I’ll stop having female development. I was supposed to get top surgery in June and then I found out I couldn’t get it until August. I got really upset about it, because I’m going to miss the whole summer and not be able to go to the gym or swim. It’s just a pain, swimming with a binder and everything.
Because I’m not 18 yet, I have to get my parents’ permission to have top surgery. My dad signed the paperwork, but the other day he asked me, “Are you 100 percent sure?” And I’m like, “Duh.”
I don’t know if I’ll go on testosterone. I’m really nervous about how it would affect my singing voice. I’m waiting to see what happens with my music career. If I were to go on T, it probably would be later on in my life. If I have a totally different voice, I might lose fans or I wouldn’t be as good. It would kind of be like starting a whole new career. But when I picture myself in three years, I’m on T and I have a really awesome beard.
Being transgender and being a musician go together for me. I’ve been doing a lot of speaking gigs. I just spoke at the Rotary Youth Leadership Awards, and then I sold 40 CDs afterwards. I’m recording an album, which is coming out in May. This summer’s going to be big for me. In June I’m playing at Milwaukee Pridefest with my studio band in front of 10,000 people.
When people find me through my music, a lot of them know I’m transgender and some of them don’t know. But when they friend me on Facebook, they find out. I don’t think they know while they’re watching me perform.
I love playing solo, and also love playing with my studio band. The energy is bigger and better with a band. I’ve played almost 200 shows. I’ve been on tour a few times. Everything’s DIY, which is “do it yourself.” The music industry is dying. You don’t make much money these days. That’s why some start learning about investing, such as roth ira uk, to make money. I book everything myself. I do all my promotion myself. My mom drives. Usually I’m supposed to pay for gas on tours, but on the last trip she was like, “It feels like a vacation. You don’t have to pay for gas.” She’s that rock ‘n roll.
When I first started performing, a lot of girls would hit on me after the shows. One girl wrote my name all over her notebooks at school. Another girl pretended I was going out with her. Some really weird things happen when you’re performing.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Long Island, NY, 2010
We Are the Youth participant Jesse reports back on Trans Health Conference
Jesse, (one of the first-ever We Are the Youth participants!), attended the Trans Health Conference earlier this month. He blogs here about his experience.
Jesse and friends having fun at the Trans Health Conference in Philadelphia
From May 30th until June 2nd I was in Philadelphia for the Trans* Health Conference. It’s the largest transgender* conference in the entire world with three days of lectures, sessions and booths. The youth had a very large number at the conference, with lots of groups run by young people.
Ryan Cassata, a We Are the Youth participant, was there not only as a representative of his music and his efforts for the community, but also as a keynote speaker. He spoke about sexism and shaming in the trans* community and why he thinks its important for everyone to respect each others identities because there is no one way to be trans*.
There was also a teen space with many fun activities and games for the younger set. My good friend Loan Tran gave a excellent speech inspired by our GLSEN training about safe schools and what we can do to address our own issues in our schools. In the same space Drexel (my future home), a college that is located in Philadelphia had their LGBT-identified club, FUSE, do a workshop about action on campus and how to get activism rolling. (more…)
Exciting News For 2012!
We are thrilled to officially announce our partnership with the Brooklyn Museum in presenting a Teen Night Event in conjunction with the HIDE/SEEK exhibit currently on display! The event will be FREE to all LGBTQ Teens & Allies and will include a rad DJ (to be announced), a photo booth (presented by yours truly), voguing lessons, refreshments, gallery activities and much more! We’ll be posting all updates here as the event draws closer, but in the mean time, GET EXCITED, TELL YOUR FRIENDS AND GO WORK ON YOUR DANCE MOVES.
Thanks to Steph Peller for her (as always) great designs!
Chris, 18, Auburn, AL
I love soccer. I could watch it for hours. I coached kids over the summer, and I love watching them develop as the season goes on. It’s exciting to see them get excited.
I used to play, but I broke my knee a year ago so I can’t run much. I was in a wheelchair for six weeks. I couldn’t use crutches because I had just had surgery on my shoulder from a four-wheeler wreck. I was right out of rehab and had to be stupid and go skateboarding. That’s me in a bubble: one accident after another. I want to go in the trauma field of nursing because of my life experiences.
I got hit in the face two weeks ago on the way to a football game with Arkansas by a group of drunk 40-year-old men. I had a rainbow belt on and they thought I was a gay guy. Then they saw my chest so they started backing off. And I had to open my big mouth and say, “I’m not a woman.” So I’m just lying on the ground getting the crap beat out of me, waiting for it to end.
Stuff like that bothers me emotionally, but I can get over it physically. When I’m wearing my chest binder and people think I’m a guy, I don’t get bothered as much. Yesterday I was in Wal-Mart and a woman called me “sir,” and was talking to me like I was a man. There wasn’t that usual awkward pause where people don’t know what to call me. That was the best moment of my life.
I’ve told everyone I’m transgender but my roommates. I’m sure they’ll accept me, but trying to get through the policies of Auburn University is more of a problem since the school doesn’t have a policy dealing with transgender students.
I haven’t legally changed my name for the university. I’m waiting until I’m out of the dorm, so I’m not homeless. If the university sees me as a man, what are they going to do with me, since I’m living in a female dorm?
I’m the only out transgender person I know of on campus. There are supposedly two others, but they’re stealth.
My given name is Kahley, and that’s what my roommates call me. Everyone else calls me Chris. I talked to my mom about it, and Christopher Adam was the name I was supposed to have because my parents thought I would be a boy.
I came out to my family this year, and they’ve been really good about it. My mom’s the one who set up the appointment to get me on hormones. My mom’s really OCD, so she said as long as I don’t grow sideburns, she’s fine with it. I was tired of hiding who I am. But I want to be happy. I’m ready to take the next step.
I didn’t even know what transgender was until less than two years ago, when I started looking on the Internet. I was an army brat and grew up in really conservative, small towns. I was pretty sheltered from the world until about a year and a half ago. But when I learned what it meant to be transgender, it made so much more sense to me.
Growing up, there were times I’d do things that little girls should not do. I tried to pee standing up for the longest time. And every time I was forced to wear a dress, I cried. By second grade, my mom stopped trying to make me wear a dress.
I have a girlfriend, Amber. When we first met last year, I identified as a lesbian, but the label never really felt right on me. But I came out to Amber as transgender and she’s been accepting. She just changed her orientation on Facebook to straight. She labeled herself a lesbian before, but now she labels herself as straight when people ask her. She doesn’t care what other people think. She doesn’t love me as a girl or as a guy. She loves me for me.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at Auburn University, Auburn, AL, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
Gender Reel Festival!
If you’re in Philly the weekend of Sept 9th-11th, come check out Gender Reel, an annual festival dedicated to enhancing the visibility of gender non-conforming, gender variant/queer and transgender identities. We Are the Youth will be showing 4 portraits and accompanying interviews Friday night and all day Saturday!
My Coming Out Story: Ryan
In honor of National Coming Out Day, we’ll be sharing unique coming out stories all week. Ryan tells We Are the Youth how the Larry King Show aided in his coming out process:
When I came out as transgender, I came out very slowly. My brother was the first person I told, then I told my mom when I was 14. I told my dad when I did because he went away and brought back this really girly necklace for me. I just had to tell him that day because I felt guilty. I came out as trans to the world when I was on the Larry King Show. I was telling one person at a time at school and if I weren’t on the Larry King Show it would have taken years to come out. It’s easier just to be out. When you’re trans, it’s different. If I didn’t come out people would still be calling me “she,” or by my birth name and I’d be extremely uncomfortable. In some cases it’s not a good idea to come out, if your safety is in jeopardy. For me it was just a convenient time to come out
Check back next month for a full feature on Ryan!
Chase, 19, Brooklyn, NY
I got my first tattoo on my 18th birthday. I’ve gotten seven since I’ve moved to New York. Tattoos are a showcase of my art and my passion. They’re so addicting.
The tattoo on my arm is my transition tattoo. I was blossoming into the person I am becoming, so I thought of orchid flowers. Pink and blue are symbolic colors for gender. The blue flower is bigger than the pink one, because it will never go away that I was a girl, but this is who I am now.
For a few weeks I wanted to go to the LGBT club at school. But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to be out. I feel like if I come out, there will be stigma attached to me. Like, “Oh, there’s Chase, the guy who used to be a girl.” Since moving to the city, I’ve been 100-percent stealth. I live with a few kids from high school and another trans guy. They’re the only ones who know, other than my trans friends. I don’t mind people knowing. I just don’t advertise it.
For most people, realizing they’re transgender takes a lifetime. For me it only took a year. Once I have an idea in my head, I run with it. I’ve never wanted to slow down with this.
A little bit over a year ago, I was in a relationship with a girl who introduced me to a world of gender I had never known before. It was interesting to see that transgender people aren’t the freaks everyone makes them out to be. I started experimenting with ideas in my head. Once I thought about it, the idea that I was transgender made so much sense. Dating back to when I was 10 years old and had such strange feelings, I had just never been comfortable being a girl. I identified as a lesbian for four years, from 8th grade to right before senior year. I identify as straight now.
I’ve had plenty of girlfriends. Sex is different now that I identify as trans. My girlfriend said when I started identifying as transgender I took a much more physical, masculine role. And since going on T my sex drive has changed. It’s increased. A lot.
Also, all sorts of things are changing down there. My clit has grown a lot. A lot lot. The sensitivity is a little much sometimes, but it’s cool. I wasn’t expecting this much growth. I think it’s a little abnormal. Everyone grows but I don’t think everyone grows two inches in four months.
The more it grows the better for bottom surgery. I’m planning on seeking lower surgery but not for another 10 years, because that shit’s expensive. But I want a penis.
I’m having top surgery in two months. My insurance covers 80 percent of it. I have really great insurance. I’m excited to not have to bind, and be able to wear tank tops and low-cut shirts. I don’t have to hide anymore.
Top surgery will make my life 1000 times better, but I’m not even that uncomfortable with my body. I’ve never had a confidence issue, which is kind of strange; I feel like most trans guys have a confidence issue. I bind for a reason, but I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just able to accept my body for what it is, and know I won’t have tits in two months.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken in Brooklyn, NY, 2011
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org
A great write-up for We Are the Youth!
A lovely article posted on Change.org this morning! Thanks Maia!
Jesse, 15, New York, NY
It’s only been three months since I came out as transgender, but it’s been a long journey. When I was very young, I’d use male pronouns for myself and was really adamant about it. But then I realized I was a girl, and fit the stereotype. When I went to a transgender meet-up group a few months ago and talked to transgender people, I realized how they felt was exactly how I felt.
Me and my friend were brainstorming boys’ name ideas. He was like, “Oh my God, I have the best idea,” and thought of Jesse. So I went to Starbucks and said my name was Jesse and they totally believed me. It was awesome and I just kept doing it again. I changed my name on Facebook. A few people asked about it, and I said, “Oh, it’s an inside joke.” I’ve told a few people, and I want to come out on my own terms.
My sister and my friends who know call me Jesse. My parents don’t. One of my friends calls me Mr. Anonymous.
At the beginning of freshman year I came out as a lesbian at school, but I’m not out as trans yet. I go to a religious school, and I’m the first openly queer person there. I didn’t know that I was the first one until I came out. I was like, “Oh my God, I’m so scared.” And I saw it as an opportunity. I had to help start the Gay-Straight Alliance. But they don’t publicize the things we do and won’t let us be an official club.
The first time I ever, ever came out as gay, I was 10. Everyone in my bunk at camp was talking about boys. I had a revelation, and was like, “I like girls.” I just kind of did it. I didn’t think of the implications. It’s a very supportive place. The girls were like, “Who do you have a crush on?” I dated this girl at camp a few years ago, and everyone found out. My younger sister came up to me and was like, “Are you gay?” It was hard for me to know she knew before I told her. My mom already knew I was gay. I was like, “Remember when I was 11, and I said I was a lesbian?” and she’s like, “I don’t care.”
When I said I was trans it was a different story. My parents were like, “You don’t know what you’re doing.” My sister tried to stand up for me.
I don’t think I’ll go on hormones until I’m at least in college. My parents are not on board yet. My parents took away my binder. My mom’s like, “I don’t know the health risks of this.”
I feel very uncomfortable right now. I know there are very few people who really respect me. No one will look at me as a guy. It’s hard for me to accept, but I know I have to give my parents time.
As told to Diana Scholl.
Photo by Laurel Golio, taken at the Center Lane Gay Prom, Yonkers, NY, 2010
To tell your story, email hello@wearetheyouth.org