For
most of us, the name we are born with is the name that follows us through our
lives, from middle-school roll call to newspaper obituaries and everything in
between.
But
what if you’re transgender? Queer? Gender non-conforming?
Changing
your name can be an emotional experience crippled by legal and familial
hurdles. And choosing what name works for the rest of your life is scary; what
would your name be if you could change it right now?
Nathaniel
Allen Anderson is a bartender in Columbus’s Short North who was born in Lima
and raised in De Graff.
His
sardonic wit makes him perfect at his job, but being a bartender means he comes
out as trans almost every day. Even in such a social environment, Anderson
tries to avoid revealing too much.
“Unless
they are trans, I don’t share that right away, because they may pry and ask inappropriate
questions,” he said.
Growing
up, Anderson’s little sister called him “Nat” and the nickname stuck, so
Nathaniel just seemed like a logical choice for him. His middle name? For Allen
County, where he was born. Anderson started hormones and started going as
Nathaniel simultaneously.
“Since
I was going to start exhibiting signs of not being female, I wanted it to be
official.”
As for
changing his driver’s license, things were a little more complicated. “In Ohio,
you can’t change the gender on your birth certificate ever,” he said. “And if I want to change the gender marker on my
license, a doctor needs to sign off on the change. I don’t have insurance, so
right now my license says “Nathanial Allen Anderson, F” [for female].
Ohio, Idaho
and Tennessee are the three remaining states that don’t allow people to change
their birth certificate. But many states have strict rules about the types of
surgeries or hormones a trans person must trans person must go through before
changing the gender on an identification document.
Changing
names on a license is simple – it’s the same form married couples use to change
their last names – but the letters M and F cause serious setbacks. The ID issue
affected Anderson when he applied for jobs.
“I had
job interviews at the beginning of my transition, and it was difficult,” he
said. “I would go in for a second interview. They would sound hopeful. I would hand
them my ID, and I would never hear back.”
The
issue of conflicting IDs affecting employment is common. The National Center for
Transgender Equality reports rampant trans discrimination even in places like San
Francisco. If more than 50 percent of transgender people there feel they have
been discriminated against, what about Ohio, where state laws barring job
discrimination cover neither gender identity nor sexual orientation?
Anderson
is remarkably nonchalant about his name and really doesn’t mind the nickname
“Nat” because he has been called “Nat” since he was a kid.
“As
long as you respect me for who I am and respect me as male, then it’s fine,” he
said.
Not
everyone in the trans community chooses a name when starting hormones; the
process is very personal and unique to the individual. Silas Hansen, a writer
and graduate student at Ohio State University in Columbus, changed his name first
and then started hormones eight months later.
“I
didn’t want to start living as male without changing my name or change my name
eight times, so I wanted to figure out my name first,” he said.
The
name he chose is a Danish name. “I found Silas on a list of names that are
popular in Denmark. I’m Danish, and that’s a part of my identity I really
connect with.”
Hansen
reached out to his friends when he settled on “Silas.” When that went smoothly,
he told his family. He’s from a small town in Western New York, and his name
change went surprisingly smoothly.
“My
90-year-old grandma is, ironically enough, the only one who doesn’t mess up my
pronouns,” he said.
Hansen says
his identity is now intertwined with his name.
“It was
weird at first, because I’ve never been called this before. But eventually, it
made me feel right and I was really confident about the choice I made,” he
said. “I identify very strongly on the gender binary, but when I started off I
didn’t. It’s been a step-by-step process, and I’m trying to figure out where
the end point is for me.”
But what
about those who identify as genderqueer or gender non-conforming? If they don’t
want to change the M or F on their driver’s licenses, how does that affect
their lives?
Many
who identify as trans do not undergo hormone treatment or surgery. Studies show
more than 80 percent of self-identified trans women and 98 percent of
self-identified trans men do not undergo gender-confirmation surgery. It makes state
laws that require documentation of hormone treatments and surgery seem
antiquated when it comes to addressing the needs of the growing genderqueer
community.
As for
whether hormones and surgery are necessary, “ask 1,000 people, get 1,000
opinions,” said Shane Morgan, executive director of TransOhio, the statewide
organization for transgender people.
“Not
all trans-identified people take hormones or pursue any sort of medical
transition. So saying to somebody, ‘Wait until you’re on hormones’ or, ‘Wait
until you have surgery’ promotes exactly what we’re trying to get away from as
a community,” Morgan said.
Eileen
Galvin works at the Columbus College of Art & Design and is a burlesque
performer with Crimson Lace Cabaret, a Columbus troupe. For her, gender roles
are arbitrary. She has not changed any identification documents but lives the
majority of her life under the name Eileen.
“In a
perfect world, I would be a pansexual genderqueer, two-spirited being,” she
said. “But that’s not the world we live in.”
She
chose her name from a video game she really liked.
“The
name sounded vintage and Irish and I loved it. I’m a little bit Irish so it was
perfect.”
Coming
out to her family has been difficult because Galvin wasn’t transitioning from
one stereotypical gender to the other, like male to female. She was coming out
as genderqueer, which is an identity outside the binary. However, Galvin’s
attitude is remarkably positive.
“The
last family trip I took was to a place that wasn’t very open minded,” she said.
“So I called my sister beforehand and said, ‘I’m having a dilemma. I’m going to
see the family, and I only want to pack girl clothes.’ And she replied, ‘Isn’t
that what you do normally?’ In some situations I see myself as exclusively
female, sometimes androgynous and sometimes more masculine.”
“It’s
tough to explain to family.”
For
that family trip, Eileen packed all girl clothes, and her family tried their
best to be accepting.
“You
can’t always expect that your family will understand you 100 percent,” she
said. “But the conversation is happening, and that’s a step in the right
direction. God, I would love for them to throw a ‘she’ in there once and a
while! It would mean so much to me.”
She’d
love to hear them call her ‘Eileen’ as well. A name, while it seems arbitrary,
holds immense meaning for those who change it.
Outlook
Ohio magazine is Ohio’s LGBT monthly
magazine, available across the state including in Toledo and Bowling Green.
Find out where to pick up a copy or read Outlook online at www.outlookohio.com.