It's almost triathlon season
Participation in sports greatly enhances my happiness and ability to interact with others. Yes, I’m that guy – that guy who, after any extended period of inactivity will make some sort of UGHHHH! sound, followed by something like, “I need to go for a run.”
The past two years have led to a shocking discovery: it is easier for me to be accepted by, compete in, and feel safe in sports leagues that are not designated as “LGBT-friendly” than is to play with other queer athletes.
My triathlon club, Empire Tri Club, is not a queer club, but is an all-people friendly club with members who have known me before transition and have been supportive throughout. I enjoy the people and appreciate the safe space they’ve created for me to be me. I don’t know of any other queer folks in the club, and certainly no other trans folks, but my identity has never been an issue. I switched pronouns, they switched what they called me. I started competing as male and no one has made a mistake around me since. They get the details right: I went to buy my uniform, they gave me male pieces to try on without question. To them, I am an athlete.
In designated LGBT sports spaces, I have encountered problem after problem, and an unwillingness or lack of effort to correct them. Forms and applications to sign up had only two check boxes: male and female. This wouldn’t be as big of an issue in the “straight” sports, because I know this is the way it works, but I expected inclusion in these leagues. One season passed and I didn’t play because I didn’t feel comfortable with the registration process. They fixed the form and I signed up as trans.
The facility they use for one sport has men’s and women’s locker rooms. Many of the players had played with me when I was in the league before transition, and not much about me had changed beyond pronouns. I had not used a female facility in over a year, but a male coworker is also in the league and the thought of that awkward moment stopped me from using the men’s locker room for the rest of the season. One solution offered to me was to “go to McDonalds to change and come back.”
They found another place for me to change but it was on another floor in a restricted area. Not all of the employees knew I was given access to it. On two occasions during the season I was not allowed into the changing space, and one time I was not allowed into the building at all. I didn’t exactly get the warm and fuzzies there – simply put, there was no space for me. I did not belong.
I stopped playing that sport and joined a LGBT bowling league. What harm could possible come of that? It’s bowling! Last Sunday, a person two lanes over put “Tranny” up on their scoreboard as a player’s name. I went over to say I was offended and before the words came out of my mouth, they asked if I wanted to get my photo taken under the screen that said “Tranny.” (No. No is the answer to that question, should anyone be curious.)
I may have actually breathed fire in that moment. I know it’s just a word (see Stephen Ira’s great commentary and the comments which follow – important conversation!), but this should NOT be happening at an LGBT inclusive event/organization/league. The reason I continue to seek out LGBT sports and play with the league is for this idea of full inclusion – being able to play, compete, participate, and just plain exist in a league where my transgender identity is not an issue, or where someone else there may be like me.
I brought this issue to the attention of the league and was met with a “Thanks for the note. We’ll talk about it at our next meeting.” The next meeting is conveniently happening just before the last week of the season, which means it will be several weeks before anyone even discusses my complaint. I do not feel supported, included, or welcome in that LGB“T” space.
I think it is worth noting – there is a lack of transgender participation in the league and in the other sports this organization puts on. It doesn’t feel safe. It doesn’t feel inclusive or comfortable. I seem to be the only fool who keeps coming back.
I do not believe an organization should be judged by one (or several) ignorant players but I can certainly judge an organization by how they handle – or do not handle – my concerns.
Being a trans guy has taught me to advocate for myself. This is a skill I continue to develop through the bad jokes in bars and inappropriate comments at work and casual conversations with friends. It is discouraging – exhausting, even – to gain the courage and voice to stand up for myself only to have my concerns be dismissed, pushed aside, or entirely ignored. Queer groups hardly seem like a place where I should have trouble finding an ally, but here I am. Again.
I have suggestions and resources, and have offered my services because I want this organization to be a safe space for trans folks, as they indicate. I guess I’m just having a hard time accepting that this might be a space where trans folks are not welcome… but actions speak louder than words.
Fortunately, it’s almost triathlon season again.
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
For me, standing up to fellow queers is the hardest to do, and yet, I seem to find the most overt forms discrimination in queer spaces. I also competed in some LGB”T” sports leagues and was disappointed. I started running, thinking it was a great solo activity and wouldn’t have to deal with the gendered-ness of sports outside of race day. Through running, I actually found the greatest group of advocates and allies in a Saturday morning training group attended by mostly middle aged straight ciswomen from the suburbs. I loved it. Beyond the sports issue, I think this brings up a larger conversation of “does the T really belong”. I feel like this is old hat, cycling through the larger queer discourse every once in a while. Yet, gender and sexuality are inextricably linked, although they are completely different. And so, again, like the end of every day, I think, “There is a lot of educating that needs to be done.” Thanks for this, Chris.
Totally agree, Garrett. It’s a conversation I keep circling back to as a trans guy and as an athlete. With many sports having competition categorized into “male” and “female” categories, and with specific restrictions on testosterone use as “doping” and when a trans woman could compete as women, I find even the most well-intended queer sports organizations have difficulty wrapping their missions around serving the T community as they advertise by being “LGBT-inclusive.” I think that was one of the draws to running when I started pre-transition: it was a solo sport and I didn’t have to race if the gender issues became problematic.
“restrictions on testosterone use as “doping” ”
Wow, that would never have occured to me. Interesting!
I’m a queer femme athlete and did distance outrigger racing for 5 years. When I started I was not only the only queer but the only woman. It’s hard enough to advocate for yourself in super gendered hetero spaces but when you have to bring these issues up with queerfolk its harder because they DO know what you’re talking about, they’ve just decided it isn’t important enough for them to deal with proactively so our objections come off as unneccessarily needy or potentially divisive. It’s a tough spot to be in. Thanks for sharing your experiences! And I’m excited to hear that you’ve found a supportive group.
“(with a queer group) its harder because they DO know what you’re talking about, they’ve just decided it isn’t important enough for them to deal with proactively.”
YOU. JUST. NAILED. IT.
This is a concise version of what I’ve been trying to say this whole time.
Thank you. Exactly!
(sometimes there’s just some relief in knowing SOMEONE else understands and I’m not just making this up!)
Chris,
I hope you’ll quickly write to me regarding the Gay Games “Gender in Sport” policy guidelines.
Marc Naimark
co-chair, FGG Sports Committee
mnaimark@gaygames.org
I was pretty shocked last year to discover that and a transman who hadn’t had their legal marker changed that I would have to compete in the womens section of the mountainbiking in the asia pacific outgames.
I realise pre hormones that this would be the standard for most sports however I would have thought the outgames would have a far more trans inclusive policy. Surley it was my risk to take to ride against the guys? I sure had no advantage to myself by doing so.
In the end I decided to save my money and not compete, I ended up goign to the attached human rights conference that was running with the outgames and that was amazing. It’s just a shame they didn’t have an inclusive policy for the sports.
I’m glad someone else has found the same thing, and like you I have switched to mostly individual sports since transition (mountainbiking, running, indoor climbing) as it seems to take the trouble out of the whole thing.
indoor climbing = harness. bold move, my friend!
It is unfortunate that you didn’t have the opportunity to compete in a way you felt comfortable with. Particularly in that arena. The more this comes up, however, the more attention will need to be paid to these concerns. I’m hopeful that I can be part of the conversation to get things changed.