Washington State Suicide Prevention
Suicide Prevention in the Transgender Community: Awareness and Allyship
November 20th was Transgender Day of Remembrance, an annual observance that honors the memory of transgender people whose lives were lost in acts of anti-transgender violence. The Day of Remembrance, started in 1999 in honor of Rita Hester, a transgender woman who was killed in 1998, raises public awareness of hate crimes against trans individuals. According to the Human Rights Campaign, there have been at least 36 transgender or gender non-conforming people who were fatally shot or killed by other violent means in the United States this year, although this number is likely higher since many of these stories are misreported. Additionally, the majority of people who have lost their lives were Black or Latinx transgender women.
Discrimination and violence, as well as stigma, barriers to healthcare, and lack of family acceptance all have an impact on the mental health and wellbeing of transgender people. Research shows that the prevalence of suicidal thoughts and attempts among transgender adults is significantly higher than the general population in the United States. According to UCLA’s Williams Institute, more than 80% of respondents reported suicidal ideation in their lifetimes, and more than 40% reported attempting suicide at some point in their lifetime. Further, 30% of respondents who were physically attacked in public reported attempting suicide in the past year.
We can help by learning how to be an ally, listening and educating ourselves about these issues, and sharing resources, like the Trans Lifeline (877-565-8860). Today we’re highlighting lived experience, tips on how to be an effective ally, and various resources to support the trans community.
Community Voices: A Glimpse of a Trans Man
Every Transgender Day of Remembrance I am reminded of how lucky I am to be still alive. I have survived for another year. In the queer community, it was a known fact: if you came out gay or transgender you could lose your family, and most likely most of your friends. I’m lucky and with a lot of work on myself and with my supportive family and friends, I am loved.
Growing up in the 70’s and 80’s there were no role models for me. All my life I knew I was different, I knew I did not fit in my body, and knew I was not a woman. I lived in depression and isolation from being able to be my true self. I needed community, I needed resources and lived in fear of violence because of who I was. I found Ingersoll Gender Center and went to weekly meetings for a few years. I met others starting their journeys, those who have walked their nonbinary, transgendered lives for decades, and those almost at the end of life in their elder years. Learning from them, witnessing, marching, and fighting for rights with them changed my perspective on who I was; it impacted me in various ways to become the man I am today.
I met a trans man at college. He was kind, smart and had a lot of friends. Most importantly, he was figuring out being trans all by himself. A couple years of friendship with him, I found myself not being able to ignore this feeling any longer. I scheduled my first transitioning appointment with a counselor at Seattle Counseling Service because I needed it to medically start transitioning. It was also helpful to reflect on the emotional damage coming out to my family had caused, as well as living a life in denial or hiding who I was.
I felt my choices were to transition or die. I had lived my life up to this point half alive, never knowing my potential self, my full gender expression. After three months of work, and I was given a doctor’s note for my primary care doctor to get my first shot of testosterone. On April 8, 2008, I had my first shot of testosterone which started my medical transition. By that fall, I lost my job because of the recession. I asked my parents for help and they gave me the alternative to have me move home; get rid of my supportive girlfriend, my dog, and stop testosterone. I could not stop transitioning, and I didn’t want to give up my girlfriend or my dog. The consequence was living in a leaky Sportcoach RV, with black mold and a carpenter ant infestation, on a friend’s property under the 3rd runway in Burien. We sold our car to get chest surgery and I recovered in the RV during 104-degree summer.
I was going to school and by 2010 we were finally in an apartment and I completed my degree. I got married to that supportive girlfriend, I still had my dog and I was happy to become me, to be myself. My parents also started talking to me more, and by 2011, I was asked by them and their church to speak about why it is important for the church to march in our local gay pride parade. I spoke and they ended up marching and becoming an open and affirming congregation. In 2012, my mom took me shopping for a new suit. I got a stable job and I thought I had made it. I was passing (in our community, that means no one can tell that I am transgender) and people treated me like a normal straight man.
However, this safety was short-lived as the political issue of where transgender people should go to the bathroom was in high gear and the conversations were not appropriate for work. I heard how trans people should be beaten, hung and killed and not allowed to use the restroom. During this time, a trans male friend of mine died by suicide one day after work. It still hurts to know his bright mind and beautiful heart ended in heartbreaking loneliness and panic at not feeling loved and accepted. I think about him, how he had put himself out there so much in the world and ended up dying by suicide. How he needed help and didn’t get it or feel a safe access to it haunts me.
I still go to counseling as needed through Rainbow Health Center. I think of the stories, lives lived bravely in the closet and lives lived loud out of the closet. Living life in love of self, in love with an accepting and supportive world is idyllic. No one deserves the brutality that is so often served in prejudiced minds. I am one of the lucky ones; my intersectionality ended up in a place of privilege. On this year's Transgender Day of Remembrance, I said their names and cried because at any second this could be or someone like me. Those who died by the cruel hand of hatred and prejudiced—they deserved a life full of promise, full of love, full of healthcare, full of housing, full of education and job opportunities, and full of acceptance. The life I am grateful and honored to live.
No matter what, us queers, all of us LGBTQIAA… spectrum can make it through somehow when adequate resources and support networks are available. Rainbows do not die, they rejuvenate and come back, they surprise and unite in awe of the kaleidoscope beauty of our humanity, our essential true selves. We still must fight for our rights, every candle of vigilance lit is a light in the dark that seeks to smother the beauty of our transgendered, non-binary brilliance. If you are in crisis, please know that you matter and support is available. Call the peer-led Trans Lifeline (877-565-8860), the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (800-273-8255) or text 741741.
