a few bookstores, and when I do someone in the audience invariably points out the chilling parallels between the German experience during the 1930s and the homophobic backlash in the United States today. Yes, I say, it is true. Just as in Germany, a period of relative liberalism has been succeeded by a vicious reaction, though not yet one in which whole categories of others are being exterminated.
And yet… as I write this, the killers of Gwen Aruajo are once again using the “gay panic” strategy in their retrial, alleging that they were so sickened upon learning that Aruajo was biologically male that they bludgeoned and strangled her in a passionate rage. (The first trial ended in a hung jury.) A similar argument was used in the murder trial of Estanislao Martinez, who stabbed twenty-nine-year-old Joel Robles more than twenty times when he discovered that Robles was biologically male. The Gender Public Advocacy Commission noted that “ ‘crime of passion’ and ‘gay panic’ arguments have traditionally been at the core of defense cases in murder trials with gay and transgender victims.” Martinez was sentenced to four years in prison for the murder—a telling indication of how little value our legal system assigns to the lives of transgendered people.
Coincidentally, a hate-crimes bill that for the first time includes language inclusive of transgendered people was proposed in Congress in spring 2005. It’s a foregone conclusion that a trans hate-crimes bill has about as much chance of being passed by the current Congress as one legalizing same-sex marriage in all fifty states. “Values” voters just won’t stand for that kind of thing, we are told.
It’s a strange set of values that unblinkingly accepts murder as a legitimate response to learning that someone has a penis rather than a vagina. And it is a twisted interpretation of the “sanctity of marriage” to forbid one category of lovers from formalizing their sexual, emotional, and economic commitment to each other while permitting another group to make and break such bonds at will. At least for the present—the same “values” voters who quake at the thought of gay marriage are also deeply disturbed by divorce, we are now being told by the clergy who claim to represent their interests, just as they are outraged by abortion and (in some cases) birth control. In fact, some of these “values” voters are so horrified by the immoral and amoral behavior of their fellow Americans, gay and straight, that they see the need for a great cleansing—something like the flood that recently drowned the hopelessly decadent city of New Orleans days before the city’s annual gay carnival—a clear indication of God’s displeasure, they say.
Yes, we’ve heard this kind of talk before. In Germany in the 1930s. In the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan when the Taliban ruled. In any society you can name where a perceived need for purification and spiritual renewal requires a scapegoat, a category of unclean persons who need to be ruthlessly suppressed and even obliterated for the good of the society as a whole. Once, we recognized this monster and called it by its proper name—group psychosis. Today, the media and much of our political leadership bow down before this beast and worship it.
This, even more than the provocative and enlightening research I summarized earlier, is the greatest change that has occurred since I began researching and writing The Riddle of Gender in 2001. I would like to believe that science itself can, as it has so often in the past, beat back the forces of ignorance and intolerance and create a space for rational discourse. Yet when so many people, including those at the highest levels of government, fail to understand the most basic scientific facts—or seek to manipulate and pervert them for their own ends—how can science save us? As Jay Sennett pointed out in our e-mail conversation, “our culture labors under the notion of a unitary body/sex/gender system compounded by an utter lack of scientific understanding about even basic physiology and anatomy. Hell! People believe that intelligent design represents a valid scientific argument!”
In the face of such ignorance, it is tempting to throw up one’s hands and give up. This is a temptation that we can ill-afford to indulge. Those who know that intelligent design is not an actual scientific hypothesis, that climate change is indeed underway, that condoms do protect against HIV—if we fail to speak out on these and a myriad of other scientific issues in which reams of data are being ignored or manipulated, we are complicit in the ignorance we condemn. And if straight Americans do not actively begin supporting their LGBT fellow citizens they may well find some of the freedoms that they cherish are also under attack.
In the early days of the AIDS epidemic, the artist Keith Haring produced a famous poster that summed up the rage and frustration of those fighting the virus in the face of overwhelming indifference— “Silence = Death.”
The message is no less valid today.
Many individuals and organizations have contributed to my education on the topics discussed in this book. My informal conversations with people at various conferences attended during the course of my research, as well as my participation (and lurking) on various online discussion lists has helped me to understand that members of the trans community (or more properly speaking, communities) are quite diverse in their backgrounds, beliefs, and goals. I regret that I have been unable to cover many of the topics that various individuals encouraged me to explore: for example, the challenges faced by trans elders and veterans; the impact of race and socioeconomics on access to health care and other services; the problems encountered by homeless, disabled, and incarcerated trans people; and the role of faith and family in the lives of trans people. Each of these subjects is important and worthy of discussion but, unfortunately, falls outside the scope of this book. My apologies to those who generously contributed their time and expertise on these matters, only to find that I have not covered their issues. My deepest thanks go to those individuals who shared with me sometimes very painful and private information, and permitted me to use their names and stories—and also to those whose personal or professional responsibilities required that they assume the cloak of anonymity. I am profoundly grateful to all my sources, both named and anonymous, whose candor helped me to understand their lives and struggles.There are a few individuals and organizations I would like to thank by name, as I doubt I would have been able to undertake the research for this book without their assistance. First, I would like to thank Aiden Faust, Jaina Hirai, and Chris Griffey, friends who introduced me to the trans community and helped me take my first fumbling steps on the road to understanding. I am grateful to the members of the National Trans Advocacy Coalition, particularly Yosenio Lewis and Rozlyn Manley, for providing introductions to many of the individuals profiled here, and to Naomi Goring, for sharing with me her collection of difficult-to-locate autobiographies and memoirs. Thank you also to those who discussed these issues with me at length, by phone, in person, and via e-mail as my questions multiplied over the course of my writing this book, in particular Drs. Ben Barres, Dana Beyer, Scott Kerlin, and Julie Maverick. Special thanks to Dr. Aaron Devor for sharing the results of his yet unpublished research on Reed Erickson.My agent, Flip Brophy, provided guidance and support throughout, and I feel blessed to have such a smart advocate and great friend standing beside me as I write. Marty Asher, my editor, gave me the greatest gift an editor can give a writer—the freedom to pursue the story in my own way and in my own time. I am grateful for his support and wise advice. My friend and colleague Ann Finkbeiner, director of the science writing program at Johns Hopkins University, not only read and commented on successive drafts of the manuscript but also was a constant source of support, encouragement, and empathy. Her probing questions have made this a better book.I could not have written this book without the support of my colleagues and employers at the Center for Talented Youth—Pat Wallace, Ben Reynolds, and Sylvia Kielsznia—who were willing to offer me time off and a flexible work schedule to write. The friends who wined and dined me during the course of the writing, providing much needed relaxation, also deserve acknowledgment— Nancy, Claudette, Paula, Liz, Kathy, Mark, and those other friends (you know who you are) who took me out and lifted me up when I was feeling overwhelmed. Finally, I’d like to thank my family—my children, Amelia, Jake, and Sofia, and their father, Rafael; my mother, Jean, and brother Jeff; and my nieces Jessica, Victoria, and Angela. Their constant love and support is the firm ground that I stand on in all my endeavors.
