E
mmanuel Gray was a 19-year-old student at the University of Cincinnati when he came out as transgender six years ago, first to his peers and trusted mentors at school, then to his parents. Gray, who grew up in Clifton, always felt a bit unsettled as the girl his parents named Emma.
“I didn’t know there was such thing as transgender,” Gray says of his younger years. “I just knew how I felt. Ever since I was little, I was always trying to reconcile. Once I knew I was allowed to be myself, it was one of the most liberating feelings. I was on a high for about a week after that.”
Gray says it was support from a network of people that made coming out an occasion in which joy trumped fear.
“I was afraid of a lot of things at that point, but I also had a lot of people around me who were accepting,” he says. “It wasn’t like coming out in high school, which probably would have been extremely harsh.”
That network — family, friends, advocacy organizations, social workers — can make all the difference for transgender people.
According to a 2011 study called the National Transgender Discrimination Survey, more than 40 percent of transgender people in America attempt suicide at some point in their lives. A more recent study by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention found that the percentage spikes into the 60s for those without the support of family or peers.
And dangers lurk beyond the deep emotional distress caused by lack of acceptance. In Ohio, at least four transgender people were murdered in 2014, each more than likely due to their gender identity. Among them was Tiffany Edwards, a 28-year-old transgender woman who was shot to death in Walnut Hills last June and left in the middle of the street. Her family believes her murder was a hate crime. Another transgender woman, Kendall Hampton, was shot to death in the same neighborhood in August 2012. Transgender advocacy groups also say that shooting was related to Hampton’s gender identity.
For some, help and acceptance doesn’t come soon enough. But awareness around issues facing those in the transgender community is building.
The Dec. 28 suicide of Leelah Alcorn, a 17-year-old transgender woman from Kings Mills, made national news last week after her suicide note was found on Tumblr and shared across social media. More than 300 people gathered to remember Alcorn Jan. 3 at a vigil at Kings High School, holding candles and glowsticks against a cold, dreary rain. The crowd included advocacy groups, activists, students and the families of transgender youth.
Zay Crawford, a 12-year-old transgender girl, was one of the attendees at the rally. With her were her mother and father, Chasilee and Jason Crawford.
“We are a family,” Chasilee told the crowd. “And we love our Zay for who she is and what she is. And we would not change that, ever.”
Organizers said the rally was meant to show the kind of support and love for trans people Alcorn said she had trouble finding in life.
“I feel like a girl trapped in a boy’s body, and I’ve felt that way ever since I was 4,” Alcorn’s suicide note said. The note recounts Alcorn’s struggle to find acceptance and help. Her parents tried faith-based counseling and so-called “conversion therapy,” but that did little to ease her confusion and feelings of isolation, her note says. Alcorn hoped to begin transitioning physically (usually achieved through hormone treatments or surgery) at age 16, but fell into a deeper depression when her parents would not grant her permission to do so.
“We don’t support that, religiously,” Alcorn’s mother told CNN in an emotional phone interview Dec. 31. In the interview, she refers to Leelah as Joshua, her given name, and uses masculine pronouns, both of which caused subsequent controversy. “But we told him that we loved him unconditionally. We loved him no matter what. I loved my son. People need to know that I loved him. He was a good kid, a good boy.”
Seventeen-year-old Abby Jones met Alcorn at Kings Island, where they both worked drawing caricatures. After a couple months working together, Alcorn felt close enough to Jones to share her secret. She also talked about her trouble at home, Jones says.
“I feel like they could have definitely supported her more, even if they didn’t agree with it religiously, and making her feel the way she did.”
Experts say the search for acceptance can be high-stakes for transgender youth.
“The biggest predictor of depression, anxiety, distress, suicide, is rejection for these kids,” says Sarah Painer, a social worker with Children’s Hospital who works with transgender youth and their families. “When you’re not supported and you’re not accepted for who you are, there are increased rates of depression, anxiety, homelessness, suicide, substance abuse. All the risk factors go up, up, up. The reality is, a lot of the kids that come to us at the clinic come to us from the psych units because they’re so depressed.”
Some of those outcomes, like addiction and homelessness, can drive transgender youth into very hard circumstances. Over the summer, CityBeat spoke with Shane (who asked we not use her real name), a homeless transgender woman, for an article on sex work. Shane was estranged from her family and engaging in sex work to survive.
“She’s been pushed out for so long,” Lighthouse Youth Services Program Director John Keuffer said of Shane, whom he met while doing outreach for the nonprofit. “At some point, you end up just looking for a family and love, and the love you find is kind of a sick love.”
There are a number of support groups offering help for transgender youth and their families, including The Heartland Trans Wellness Group, a statewide advocacy organization based in Cincinnati, and the Gay Lesbian & Straight Education Network, or GLSEN, which provides support for members of the LGBT community. Children’s Hospital also offers counseling and medical advice for transgender youth looking to transition.
“Most of the kids who come to us have a level of support from their parents, even if it’s not full acceptance, because they’re bringing them to us,” Painer says. “Kids like Leelah, we don’t know about. We didn’t know her. We don’t have an opportunity to work with them. If the families come in, we’ll meet them where they are.”
Even with support, societal attitudes and a steep learning curve can make coming out a long road for transgender people and their families.
“When I was younger I tried to come out in different ways, even though I didn’t have the vocabulary for it,” Gray says, noting that it took a long time to come to terms with his identity. “When I was rejected, it was hard. I’ve been there – when I was 13 I planned my suicide.”
Parents face a rocky, often confusing path as well.
“It was a journey, not having the language and the social support,” says Susan Gray, Emmanuel’s mother. “I thought I had three sons and a daughter, but I actually have four sons. I’ve learned so much.” ©
