The 'Trans Question' Only Has One Answer

How can we create psychological safety for people under fundamental risk from a threat many of us aren’t fully aware of?

How can we lead and support people whose challenges we’ve never experienced?

As a trans woman, working for a company that promotes compassionate leadership, these are the questions I often ask myself.

They’re the questions driving organisations across the UK to take an active part in Pride, to make their LGBTQ employees feel welcome and included.

They’re the questions that are likely responsible for you being here right now, reading this. They’re certainly the reason I’m writing it. 

They’re the questions you’ll have to answer if you want to understand why many of your transgender employees are quietly fearing for their futures, their happiness and even their lives. 

The struggle

Before we can talk about how you can help, you have to understand what exactly it is you’re up against without appeasement, whitewashing or positioning. So here is the honest reality, raw and revealing.

Imagine a world where your rights and your mere existence are widely considered a matter for public debate. Politicians from both sides of the aisle echo the same sentiment or avoid the subject entirely. All around you, it seems everyone is trying to decide the answer to the “trans question”: are you people, like them, or are you ill, sick, disturbed?  

Imagine a world where the country’s most popular author is using her platform to publicly attack you and spread misinformation. Where traditional allies on the left – staunch feminists, iconic journalists, LGB advocates – actively join forces with bigots, homophobes and racists to ostracise you. For the record, many consider the Equality and Human Rights Commission, possibly the institution you would expect to be most supportive to trans rights, to not only be failing to provide adequate support but to be working to actively overturn our existing rights.

Imagine a world where I, as a moderately active trans woman on social media, regularly “the message”. It simply reads: “41%”. That number is the amount of trans people that will attempt to take their own lives. It is a common rebuke for those of us who have the audacity to be visibly trans. A world where this type of abuse and harassment is a common thread in the lives of so many marginalised peoples, where being slurred is also a de facto part of not being a CIS, white man on the internet. 

Imagine a world where affirmative care is a complex and heavily gatekept affair. Where gaining access to treatment takes years. For a consultation. Not for surgeries or hormones. Simply to see a doctor and begin the process. A process that itself takes many more years and involves essentially enduring a second puberty. Do you remember the awkward, bungling mess that was puberty? Now imagine going through it again, but with a full-time job, relationships, all the pressures of adult life. Fumbling your way through an experience that is largely unrecognised, undocumented and a seemingly endless source of embarrassment. I am 30, going on 13. 

Imagine a world where your success in transitioning actively determines your quality of life. ‘Passing’, appearing as your identified gender to others, is a dream for many trans people not just as a form of self-actualisation but as an essential matter of safety, of being allowed to live your life in relative peace. If you pass, you are less likely to be slurred in the street, harassed at work or physically threatened. But not every person under the trans umbrella wants to pass or has access to the resources necessary to do so. Not every trans person wants to transition. Not every trans person associates their identity with binary gender at all. 

Imagine a world where you’re told that doesn’t matter: you must transition, a wildly contradictory world where transitioning is itself both a horrific patriarchal act and the necessary proof that you really are trans. If you don’t actively transition, if you don’t have the staggering amount of time, money and sheer will to metamorphosise yourself, your existence is just a lie. But if you do, then you’re a traitor to feminism, to equality, to L, G, B & Q. Where you simply cannot win; no matter what you do, you are a bad person. 

Imagine a world where this self-perception of yourself as some sort of monster aligns perfectly with the representation of people like you. Where ever since you can remember, the idea of being trans either didn’t exist, was treated as a sick, inherently sexual perversion, or was used as an extra level of psychosis to add to an already deranged freak. Prominent video essayist Natalie Wynn notes that it’s no coincidence that “the most famous and most terrifying murder scene in cinema history (the shower scene in Psycho) is of a man in a dress attacking a woman in a bathroom”. 

Wynn, herself a trans woman, argues that many trans people experience a deep, fundamental shame about our very being because that is how we have been conditioned to perceive our own identities our entire lives.

So yes, it’s great to finally see more representation in the modern world. We love that Hunter Schafer is openly trans in Euphoria. Future generations will hopefully grow up in a world without the same shame that was inflicted on us. For our part, we’ll fight tooth and nail to ensure the cycle of abuse ends with us.

But it does raise a whole new question: what do you do with us? How do you create psychological safety for people that have spent their whole lives terrified and ashamed?

5 ways you can help

1. Personalise benefits 

The first, simplest and most commonly applicable answer is you can’t, but a licensed professional can. If it’s within your power and budget, offer trans people therapy. Obtaining it through public channels is slow and painful, and paying for it privately is a financial burden many of us cannot bear. If it’s not in the budget, be aware of the incredible work done by charities, the best of which you can find compiled here.

Speaking of which, be flexible with your benefits. Subsidised work drinks, gym memberships are great, but it’s difficult to express how much more grateful I would be for subsidised gender-affirming expenses.

Not just because being trans is mind-bogglingly expensive (the cost of electrolysis to remove 5 o’clock shadow is around $4000) but because it shows that the company I am working for is actively thinking about my welfare. They genuinely care, affirm my identity and want to support me. 

2. Be conscious of the pressures of presentation

We’ve all been to a Zoom call and wondered: “Could this have been an email?” but for many transgender people, the issue is more than annoying. Many of us are understandably sensitive about our appearance and voice, especially if transitioning.

While meetings can be a powerful way for teams to stay connected, it’s vital to be understanding if a trans employee feels uncomfortable switching on their camera. It’s not that we’re being antisocial, it’s that there are days where a stray mirror or webcam can trigger a horrible spiral of dysphoria.

3. Use gender-inclusive language

Most of us can appreciate why using gender-neutral language and respecting someone’s pronouns will go a long way. But so does solidarity.

Adding your own pronouns to relevant profiles and comms can help trans people feel included; if the only people who display their preferred pronouns are trans, it can easily create a subtle sense that they’re different or being singled out. Likewise, try to use gender-neutral language consistently, instead of purposefully differentiating when you’re addressing someone trans. 

4. Take time to forge trust

A key part of psychological safety and of modern leadership is creating trust. But implicit trust is something many trans people can struggle with: a common side effect of societal trauma is hyper vigilance to a perceived danger.

When every new encounter comes with a risk of being assaulted, slurred or treated with contempt, it’s easy to become jaded. Patience and demonstrable action are key to help assuage these concerns and prove that this is a benevolent environment. 

5. Apply these learnings across the board

Many of the issues I’ve raised here, the fears, prejudices and concerns are not exclusive to trans people. Other marginalised groups suffer in similar ways and there’s a good chance you have experienced them yourself.

True inclusivity means understanding all the struggles and challenges your employees face. It means making efforts to understand the impact of systemic power imbalances: no one expects you to solve these issues on your own but compassionate awareness and allyship is a vital factor in creating an environment where those affected feel supported.