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.
