Lifting The Ban: Will It Fly?

The day when transgenders can serve in the US Armed Forces seems to be drawing closer.  Air Force Secretary Deborah Lee James says as much.  The ban on transgender people in the military "is likely to come under review in the next year or so," she says.  "Times change."

When asked whether dropping the ban will affect military readiness, she had this to say:  "From my point of view, anyone who is capable of accomplishing the job should be able to serve."

While lesbians, gays and bisexuals were able to "fly under the radar" (pun intended) during the days of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", transgenders did not have such an option.  Even those who'd already had the surgery and were living full-time in the gender of their minds and spirits are not allowed to enlist; the military could find such information easily enough even if would-be enlistees did not disclose it themselves.  And, of course, declaring one's self trans and starting a gender transition while in uniform is grounds for being discharged, most likely dishonorably.

Somehow I'm not surprised that Ms. James is the first secretary of a branch of the Armed Forces to voice support for transgenders joining the military.  For one thing, of the twenty-three people who have held her current position, she is only the second woman.    She is also the only female secretary of any branch of the armed forces.




Also, I think her statements might be motivated by the possibility that, of all of the branches of the Armed Forces, the Air Force could benefit most from allowing transgenders to join.  We (I mean transgenders) are a community of extremes:  We have the highest levels of kids who drop out of school because they were bullied--and the unemployment and homelessness that too often result from it-- but a higher percentage of us than of the general population earn college degrees.  The Air Force was probably the first of all branches to recruit significant numbers of people with bachelor's or higher degrees; if I'm not mistaken, one has to have a college degree in order to fly.  And, contrary to some commonly-held stereotypes, many trans people have training, or work, in technical and scientific fields.  It just happens that the AF is more dependent on people with scientific and technological skill than any other branch of service.

Whether or not that was her motivation, I applaud Ms. James for making her statement.  Although I don't generally encourage people to join the military, it is a part of our world and offers one of the few opportunities for stable employment and advancement to many young people from less-than-privileged backgrounds.  And there are trans people, just as there are other people, who want to serve their country and believe that joining the military is the best way to do so.

The Look

I can tell them from a mile away.  They're the ones who want to take you aside to talk to you.  They think they're doing something wrong, and they're waiting for--and fearing--your reaction.  And that's exactly the reason why they talk to you, and hope that you don't react the way others have screamed at, scolded or even beat them.


I first noticed that look--They're looking to you even when they can't look into your eyes, and they won't look into you--in a woman I dated a long time ago.  I was about 24; it was not long after I returned from France and my grandmother had died, and not long before an uncle would die and a friend would commit suicide.  She was a dozen years older than I was, and had divorced a few years earlier. For me, that was an eon:  I was still in high school when her alcoholic husband was beating her.  


We got into an argument about something I've long since forgotten.  Having almost no coping skills for such situations, I suggested that it might be better if I left.  "No," she insisted.  "At least you didn't beat me."


"Well, that just makes me a human being."


"That's not true.  Besides, you don't use sex on or over me.  You don't use sex, period."


I didn't quite understand what she meant.  I take that back: I knew full well what she meant, but I was sure that I couldn't have learned it in the same way she did.


Or did I?


Over the years, before and since I became sober, before and since my transition, females have come to me with that same look.  One was eight years old; another was seventy-nine and others were ages in between.  Of the in-betweens, I dated a few and had long-term relationships with two.  In the words of one, "My brothers used me for sex."  A student who talked me today said the same thing about her father.  Somehow, I knew, before she opened her mouth.  Another student, who did a tour of duty in Iraq before taking a class with me last semester, had that same look and confided a similarly appalling and terrifying story.  She and the student with whom I talked today spent time in foster care as a result of their sexual abuse and, in their new homes, were subject to more and new kinds of sexual violation.


I was spared the foster-care experience; my family was actually  stable, though it had its tough times.  And I was not abused by any family member.  However, I was molested by a close family friend.  Even when I wasn't consciously thinking of it--which was most of the time, for many years--the echoes of it still muttered like thunder through my sleep.   I can think of no other reason why other females wanted to talk about their experiences with me long before I was conscious of my own, and my own experience.  It seemed that wherever I looked, I saw their look.