By Julia Scotti
When I came out as transgendered on America’s Got Talent, it wasn’t long before I began to find myself being referred to in the media as a role model for Trans folks. Maybe it was because I was old, and being that, it was assumed that I had some sort of inherent wisdom as a result of my transition experience. Perhaps it was because I had transitioned nearly 20 years prior and I was a veteran of sorts in the Trans life. Whatever it is or was, I am here; in that position; at this point in my life. And while I’d rather not be anyone’s role model, I accept that some people may see me that way. It is part and parcel of what I did and to some extent being in the public eye.
I enjoy being accessible to fans. I feel like they are the ones responsible for any success I have, and I try to be available to them within reason. There is a line of privacy that most respect and I am grateful for that.
Most of the time people use social media to send some kind words my way. Occasionally, we’ll get an email, or in a rare case an actual letter sent to my manager. The missives are usually kind and generous and I try to answer them when they come my way.
But then there are those messages which just about break my heart, as this one did yesterday in a tweet.
“My sister didn’t make it through her transition. I don’t know why I’m telling you, but I feel like she would want people to know.”
On face value, this message is a little cryptic, but I’ve seen too many of them in the last few years not to cause me to read between the lines.Whether or not it's true, I could only surmise that the writer’s sister is no longer with us; that she left this world either by natural causes or some other means. What does it say about the state of being Trans in America when my first assumption was that this woman killed herself?
She may not have died at all and let’s hope that is the case. But the words, “didn’t make it” lead me to believe that she is gone and that it was by her own hand, or worse, at the hands of someone else.
The University of Southern California's Annenberg Center for Health Journalism reported in 2019 that “In a 2018 study of youth ages 11-19, 51% of transgender males said they’d attempted suicide. For transgender females, the figure was 30% percent.”
https://www.centerforhealthjournalism.org/2019/10/30/transgender-youth-are-dying-suicide-rates-far-higher-their-peers
In October of 2001, in a moment of despair so deep and painful that it seared to ashes my primal instincts to live, I nearly became one of those statistics. My life had reached the point where I was on the brink of having to decide whether or not to make the decision to cross over, to lie down forever, weary from the torment that the decision to “be” often brings, or to fight like hell to live and to stand up to all of those who wanted to hurt me. I can’t speak of a God per se, but some force guided me to back away and I am grateful that its gentle hand was on my shoulder that bitter, rainy afternoon.
Astonishingly, it’s been 20 years since I came out to friends and family and began my journey. People ask me if things are better now for Trans folks than they were in 2000, and to be honest, I don’t know how to answer. I guess if you ask Caitlyn Jenner if her life is okay she’d probably be the first one to say yes. But the rest of us don’t have her wealth, which automatically gives a person the ability to isolate themselves from having to endure many of the daily trials that Trans folks experience.
Things like getting a job or an apartment can be an exercise in horror in some parts of America. Murdered while being Trans is a fact of life; ours, not yours. If you don’t believe me, ask one of the 331 people in North, Central, and South America who were murdered, hanged, and lynched in 2019 (Forbes.com, Nov. 18 2019) Oh that’s right; they are unable to speak.
Is it better in 2020? Ask Trans teens all over America who live in fear of bullies in school, or the bullies who run the schools; those administrators who insist that children—CHILDREN—must endure humiliation so bad that it causes them to end their lives. Yes, some school systems are making the grade, but so many more aren’t.
Is it better in 2020? There are some parents who fully support and love their Trans kids and that is a beautiful thing to see. But there are still many parents who turn their kids out onto the streets because they find their child to be an abomination before their chosen god. Some send their kids to re-education camps to have the queerness prayed away. It still happens. The true abomination is that these kids wind up on the streets and often have to turn to becoming sex workers just to survive. The truth is that many don’t; they become victims of crimes, drugs and suicide.
No wonder so many of my Trans sisters and brothers don’t make it through their transition. With a 51% suicide attempt rate, I’ll leave it to you to answer whether or not things are better for us now than 20 years ago.
I believe there is hope. A national awakening is taking place as the old, bigoted souls of a bygone era are beginning to pass away. There's a seismic shift toward decency unfolding right before our eyes. But we have more ugliness to endure before that happens completely. Every time something horrible happens to someone and it is related to race, gender, or sexual orientation, the question, “Are we better than this?” arises. Sadly, the answer for now is no. This is exactly who we are. Most of us are decent and kind people who love one another. But for that unknown percentage, the roots of hatred run deep.
How do we fix ourselves?
First, if you are ‘Christian’ then act like it. Follow the teachings of Christ. Love EVERYONE, not just those who look, act and believe like you.
The second thing I believe in is the ideal of democracy and America. You can’t claim to believe in freedom when you don’t believe that all people are created equal. You can’t claim to revere the symbolism of the Statue of Liberty when you lock the children of the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free” in cages.
“My sister didn’t make it through her transition. I don’t know why I’m telling you, but I feel like she would want people to know.”
They know now. I know now. If you are no longer with us my lost sister I hope that your weariness and burden has been lifted. I hope that if there is an afterlife that your joy lights up a thousand galaxies. For whatever reason you chose to leave us, know that WE know and you have fulfilled your purpose.
