Editorial: Being Trans At New College, Or Why I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bubble
by: Evie Napper
Author’s Note: This article is written from my own perspective, strictly about my own experiences. It is not my intention to speak over the experiences of other trans students at this school, especially if something I wrote in this article directly conflicts with the experiences of another student. I am a white-passing trans woman, and this article strictly deals with my experiences regarding my gender only. I am not discussing how my gender intersects with other aspects of my identity at this time, and I hope that readers shall keep this perspective in mind.
Perhaps the biggest reason that I confirmed my enrollment in New College of Florida last spring, was because I had heard how friendly the campus community was towards LGBT students. My situation at the time was dire: the mental pressure of knowing that I was a female, yet watching my body grow more and more masculine was becoming overwhelming. I was reaching my breaking point. I knew that I would need to find a place I could go post-high school that would be accepting of me as a trans woman mid-transition. I had heard of New College before and its reputation of having a significant LGBT population, and a campus visit in the summer of 2014 seemed to confirm this. That autumn of my senior year, after threatening first to kill myself, and then to refuse to apply to any colleges at all, I applied to New thinking it was the only place I had a chance at survival. These threats have been very significant to my life thus far. They were part of an ultimatum I had given my parents: either allow me to medically transition from male to female, or I’ll refuse to live any sort of meaningful life. That is what it took to convince my parents that I was serious about being transgender. Luckily, though, a few weeks later I was talking to a gender therapist for my HRT letter and mailing my application to NCF.
The following summer was one of the most stressful times of my life. I had started a very low dose of estrogen several months prior, but virtually nothing with my body had changed. In my mind, I fantasized that I would be able to live and present as a female in college. I hoped I could somehow both start and “complete” my transition between what was left of my senior year, and the beginning of my fall semester, that I could live stealth and being trans wouldn’t be an issue for me at all. That even though NCF was somewhat trans-positive, it was still a necessity for me to be “fully transitioned” by the time I got here. Because of this misguided line of thinking, I felt pressured to do everything I possibly could to transition fully from presenting male to presenting female in one summer. I tried acquiring a totally new wardrobe — which was impossible due to a lack of funds. I tried to train myself to speak in a higher register, but I got frustrated and gave up. I tried to get myself into a daily makeup routine to make myself look more feminine, but this proved too difficult considering my paltry supply of drugstore makeup products, and some pretty bad executive dysfunction issues.
In short, I hardly transitioned at all between graduating and starting college, and on the first day of orientation, I was terrified. Although I’d heard good things, I didn’t really know how receptive the community actually was towards trans people. Orientation improved my mood very quickly, though. It blew my mind that people were encouraged to introduce themselves with their names and pronouns, even if they were cis. From then on, I became acclimated to the trans-friendly attitude of New and I am happy to say that I feel welcome here.
I am now in my second semester. I am a trans woman attending New College, and I’ve got some things to say. First of all, cis men still scare me, even here. No matter how social-justice-friendly anyone is, I am always inclined to believe that every cis man I encounter is either A) at least somewhat transphobic & does not think of me as a woman or B) a chaser (men who fetishize trans women specifically and obsess over us). Men are men wherever you go, and I still get that vibe from most of the cis male students I encounter here. It’s not that I don’t trust them, it’s just that I am conditioned to expect the worst from this demographic of people for my survival. Even at a place like New, I’ve still yet to be given a reason to let my guard down when it comes to interacting with men. I can’t imagine a school more accepting for trans women, and yet I still encounter this problem. This isn’t so much a criticism of the climate at NCF as it is me trying to communicate how scary and desperate daily life is for #girlslikeus. Anyone could be a virulent transphobe capable of committing hate crimes against us, but if we act distrustful towards and distant from the rest of the population, this is “unladylike” and can lead to getting clocked. Being trans is walking a constant tightrope between performance and caution.
Regarding the student community here, I am ecstatic about the quantity of different queer identities I see represented here — trans people, nonbinary people, and a myriad of different sexual identities/orientations. It’s wonderful to belong to a community of so many like-minded people, whom I know have had to navigate the tricky world of gender just like I have. To me, it seems like queerness is downright normalized here. Most of the time this is excellent: it means that I have never been met with open hostility when I share my preferred name and pronouns, only (so far) understanding. It means that I cannot assume anyone’s sexuality, which, as a bisexual trans woman, gives me hope when I have a crush. It means that in discussions of the politics of queerness, most of us are on the same page and can use LGBTQ-specific vocabulary without fear of misunderstanding or invalidation. Most of all, it means that people’s identities are (most of the time) not assumed here. That anyone walking on the overpass or through Z green could have any number of intersecting queer identities, and these would not be questioned if brought up in conversation.
But I occasionally wonder; does this normalization ever lead to my identity not being respected in the way that I wish? It’s not that I want to be treated specially due to the fact that I’m trans, nor that I want people to make a bigger deal out of it, but… It just sort of seems like, in a place where so many people oppose heteronormativity/cisnormativity in one way or another, that whatever I do to become a woman isn’t really enough.
Many trans women feel differently about this, and my own attitude regarding this is likely to change in the future, but my goal as a trans woman is to be able to pass as cis, and to live my life like I’m cis. As much as being trans is a part of who I am, I’d kind of love to eventually put it behind me. But I feel like I may not ever be able to do that here. I feel like transness is so wrapped up in the idea of “queering” gender that I am, in a way, not treated as a “real woman” at times. aA New College there exists a gap between the way people conceptualize queer identities and the way people conceptualize actual queer people. Thus, it can feel like I am lumped intothe same group as cis girls who cut their hair short and don’t shave their legs or armpits, into the same group as cis boys who wear dresses because they like it and because it opposes gender norms, into the same group as AFAB nonbinary people who straddle androgyny. In living my life as a trans woman, I’m not trying to make a statement about gender roles or queer people or living outside of a gender spectrum. Personally, I am just trying to put my past behind me and live as a woman. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say about this, but I guess I mean that it’s so normal to be trans here that it is difficult for me to remove myself from the label of trans while embracing the label of womanhood. Being trans is not a bad thing to be, but I don’t want it to be the focus of my identity, and so far it still feels like it is.
Dealing with faculty and administration is another important facet of being trans at NCF. To my delight, most areas of faculty are super respectful about my identity and making sure they refer to me the way I prefer. Laura, Bill, and Kevin in Ham all call me by my preferred name and pronouns, and whenever I’m with my friends checking out at Metz Laura refers to us as “ladies”, which makes me feel all giddy inside. My interactions with the CWC have been largely the same. I never get misgendered while I’m there and, while it sucks to always have to fill out their forms with my legal name and sex, it’s still not an unpleasant experience to be there with regards to my trans identity.
One thing I’m perpetually delighted by at New College is the teaching staff. I’ve only been misgendered once or twice accidentally in an entire semester by any of my teachers. Sometimes I wonder if they are very respectful of trans identities because good people are simply drawn to teaching at New College, or because there are so many trans students here that there’s social pressure from students that forces teachers to give a shit about us, or some combination of the two. Either way, it makes me feel safe. I haven’t yet formed opinions of other administrative divisions here yet, because I’ve had little to no interaction with most of them so far. I talked to Mark Stier at housing once, at the beginning of the year, when I was requesting to be moved from a Pei Triple with two boys to either a single or a room with girls, and he readily obliged my request the next day. However, I have heard some less-than-positive things about how people at housing treat trans students lately, for instance regarding how they enforce the rule that students of different “birth genders” cannot room together. So far, I have not interacted with the NCPD at all, but I have little hope that I will be treated with the respect my identity deserves if I ever do interact with them. I don’t really have any other grievances about the school’s administration with regards to my trans identity, except that it’s bullshit we have to pay 15 dollars to get a new ID with our preferred name on it, and it’s bullshit that we can’t change our email addresses so that they say our preferred names on them.
As for New College as a whole, I am very glad that I am here. Despite my above rantings about the campus culture, I truly can’t imagine a safer place for me to live out my college years. The contrast between New and the outside world is almost staggering. The first time I went shopping off campus, I was very obviously presenting as female. I saw a male employee at a clothing store approach me, angrily and curiously, and shout at me “what the fuck do we have here?”. Of course I’ve experienced transphobia in public before, but this really shocked me because just hours prior to that incident I had been at New College, a place where I am sure I would never receive a comment like that.
I don’t want to turn this article into a treatise about how the “New College Bubble” affects our social perceptions and desensitizes us to attitudes outside of it, but I will say this: I am thankful for the bubble. The bubble makes me feel safe, and it allows me to worry much less about my own survival while trying to go about my day and receive an education. As this issue of the Inhibitor has addressed, there are many, many issues facing our campus right now, but in my own experience I feel like we are in a good place when it comes to trans identities. Of course, there is always room for improvement, and every student here — cis or trans — must work harder towards eradicating transphobia (lord knows even I am not immune to accidentally misgendering my friends). But as I have reiterated, I feel safe here, and I can’t imagine a better place for myself at the moment. Trans is a difficult thing to be, but New College makes it tolerable, and for that I am grateful.
