As an openly transgender person living in Iowa, this is a difficult time. The Iowa Legislature seems hell-bent on removing any fundamental right I ever had and our national leaders want to pretend that I and everyone else like me doesn't exist.
Trans folks are being demonized as people who somehow are determined to invade bathrooms and sexually assault people. We're incorrectly labeled as mentally ill. And transgender children in Iowa are being denied the medical care that every major medical organization from the American Pediatric Association to the American Medical Association has endorsed.
Yet I'm hopeful.
I'm 44, old enough to have grown up not even knowing what transgender is. That's changed. Any child today who feels like they were born in a body that is the wrong gender now has the terminology for that—gender dysphoria. And while information and medical resources can be tricky for them to get, they do exist in a way they didn't when I was a kid. They will grow up with parents who know what being transgender is, and if they're lucky, they'll have parents who are knowledgeable and supportive. They're more likely to have classmates, teachers, principals, coaches, and community members who know what being transgender means, and maybe who will stand up for them when the inevitable bullies—both children and adults—do what bullies do. They will grow up seeing celebrities, artists, and influencers who are openly trans. And they'll see me!
I'm living a life that even 20 years ago I didn't know was possible. I can be open about who I am. I have a good job in nursing, and I love helping people on a daily basis. My medical insurance, after some legal battles involving the ACLU of Iowa, paid for my gender-affirming care. My wife and I have a house and two dogs and I can live a life that is genuinely me. I can't imagine what it would have been like if I had been born just two or three decades earlier.
Growing up in small-town Iowa, I heard all the slurs about gay and transgender people. I grew up learning to keep your head down, keep quiet, and try to pretend that you are different than you really are. But that didn't work for me. Several years ago, before I got gender-affirming medical care, I got kicked out of the women's bathroom because they thought I was a man! There was no way I could win.
Politicians like to make transgender people a political issue, but I feel like your average everyday Iowan is more supportive of transgender people than you might think. Even small towns in Iowa these days put on Pride parades to celebrate who we are. It's a far cry from the Stonewall riots back in the 1970s.
All this hate and energy targeted at trans people right now I think is a symptom of our success. We are open; we're in the public; we're in the media--we're even in the state legislature. We are showing that we're just normal people, trying to live our lives in the best way we know how. That's caused a backlash of people trying frantically to erase us. That isn't going to happen. We aren't some genie to put back into a bottle.
I'm not going anywhere, either. Iowa is my home state. I'm not moving to California or Canada or anywhere else. I'm staying here and showing up and speaking up, and I'm going to do everything I can, just like all the LGBTQ activists before me, to make it better for everyone to come.
Jesse Vroegh lives in the Des Moines area. Photo courtesy of Mark Looney.