Monika: And how are we perceived by society?
Our societal transgender visibility is still mostly about the entertainment industry and celebrity culture. I’m so grateful for that visibility, but we need more visibility of a different kind, where the transgender story or identity is not the focus but a layer. More trans kids need to see a full diversity of the kinds of lives they can lead— they need to see it to be it.
We need to see more stories like Dr. Rachel Levine, who just led the public health effort in Pennsylvania against COVID-19 and is about to be one of the senior-most health officials in the country. She’s an American hero.
We need more trans CEOs, to actually elect a trans person as a Governor or a member of Congress— not that all trans people should want any of those roles for themselves to be equally valued. But whatever their dreams are, they will be easier to pursue if trans people have seats at all the tables of American life. We’ve been unsuccessful at that.
And that, frankly, is part of why I try to be out there as a trans person with that layer to my life story. You too can be an intelligence analyst working against North Korea, a Congressional candidate, a mom, and work to protect American elections— and be trans.
Monika: We all pay the highest price for the fulfillment of our dreams to be ourselves. As a result, we lose our families, friends, jobs, and social positions. Did you pay such a high price as well? What was the hardest thing about your coming out?
Alexandra: While I have been incredibly fortunate with a supportive wife, many friends, and family, I have most definitely paid a price.
Some in my father’s family didn’t accept me for over 14 years— I’m happy to report that changed just last year. But as my father died before I came out, that especially hurt, because they were a remaining link to him.
There were times (years ago) that I was hurt (including a time when someone attacked my wife and me, trying to mug us) and times when I was harassed or threatened when I was scared to call the police, because I was trans, and because at the time I thought it could be held against me by some at my job.
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| "Our campaign was made up of a small staff and amazing volunteers in the district and even across the country. I just didn’t give them the resources to get my name and my message to enough voters." |
I miss singing. I was never a good singer and didn’t particularly care about that, but I still enjoyed singing. I’ve made my peace— mostly— with the sound of my voice, but I can’t make my peace with the sound of my singing and just don’t do it. I’ve only been able to rediscover that a little singing to my kids at night because this is the voice they have always known.
Monika: And the biggest price?
Alexandra: But I think the biggest price and the hardest thing is a shadow of insecurity or precarity that never quite goes away, and even with my successes haunts me to this day. Being trans has given and taken away there. I am infinitely more comfortable in my own skin, the “static” of feeling inauthentic is gone, and pre-transition me could never have done the jobs I eventually did in the Intelligence Community, I could have never run for Congress or do my current job. Yet— every now and then, I’ll just have this feeling— in the middle of a conversation with a friend, in a Zoom room, walking down the street— that everyone is just humoring me, and that even dear friends might not really accept me.
I once had a mentor in the Intelligence Community, a man who I once thought of as another father in many ways. He taught me so much tradecraft. He spoke out for me when I transitioned. I confided in him when scared. And yet, in the last few years, since I left the intel world, he now claims he never accepted me, he was just playing along, that he never “condoned that lifestyle”. That definitely reopened the wound of insecurity, and I don’t know if I’ll ever quite entirely close it again. That’s a price I pay over time.
But I would pay it all over again, ten times over, no matter what he or anyone else says or does.
Monika: We are said to be prisoners of passing or non-passing syndrome. Although cosmetic surgeries help to overcome it, we will always be judged accordingly. How can we cope with this?
Alexandra:
On this question, I will claim no special wisdom-- it is hard, no matter what the physical circumstances of our birth. I do appreciate that the question characterizes this as a matter of “coping”, not conquering or defeating. I will say that in my case I think it helps that with each passing day (that was an awful pun), I meet more people, make more connections with people, some of whom become friends and loved ones-- and those people care for me, whether I am passing with my looks or my voice to some standard or not.
As my mind adds up those people, more and more, who light up a bit when they see me on the street (back when we could go out) or at work, or on a Zoom, the perception of society writ large concerns me less. I think in my case too, it has both helped and been difficult that I have sought out visible roles-- whether out in front as an analyst and manager in the intel community or in the political space. I’ve had to think about my appearance as a tool not so much in the passing lens, but with the lens of whether I as a professional or a politician am projecting authority or approachability or other positive attributes-- which are not about passing, but about succeeding in my pursuit of the moment.
I’m not necessarily saying every trans person should run a chunk of the intel community or run for office to help with this concern, but I do think it would have the potential to add to the diversity and make the world a better place!
In all seriousness, something else we should seek to do is never tear one another down. I won’t even go into it at length, but the worst I ever felt about my appearance was not some cruel street or subway harasser (though I had plenty) but when what seemed like an innocuous coffee conversation turned into a trans friend of mine basically drawing lines on my face with her finger enumerating all the things she thought I would *need* to change in order to ever be accepted or to be happy when I looked in the mirror.
I spoke up for her to stop after a bit, but the damage was done. It was in the middle of my time coming out at work and nearly set me into a tailspin, as I knew I could not possibly afford the surgeries she was saying I “needed” as well as saving money to buy a house and have children. It tore me up, it really tempted me to change or delay plans, and was a source of a lot of stress and tension between my then-girlfriend and me.
In the end, my choice was not to have those surgeries on my face, but with all the pain I have gone through every which way in this space, I will not judge anyone’s path or choices here.
Monika: Do you remember the first time when you saw a transgender woman on TV or met anyone transgender in person?
Alexandra:
I have vague composite memories of trans women on talk shows in the 1980s, usually a source of ridicule, pity, or disgust. Between that and Silence of the Lambs (which was a movie I did mostly love), it was not an encouraging media environment and contributed to my sense that being authentically myself was a viable choice.
There was one person in my high school that dated someone who was assigned male at birth but was almost always androgynously dressed or cross-dressed, and just the visual of those two around and about helped. At the time, I kept my afterschool cross-dressing delineated from my male presentation-- where I just tried to wear massively oversized things that covered my body as much as possible. The two of them helped plant the seeds of what I wound up doing later in college and into law school-- integrating my cross-dressed presentation into my all-the-time presentation as much as I could, which made me feel less cut in two.
This is part of why, frankly, I answer interview requests like this, do videos, and am otherwise out there-- visibility changes everything.
Monika: Are there any transgender role models that you follow or followed?
Alexandra:
My friend Rachel Crowl will blush to hear this, but she has always been something of a role model for me. She’s a gifted actor, a devoted partner to her wife Helen, someone who also spent a lot of time in 1990s NYC goth clubs and who would talk about geopolitics between sets. She was (and is) like me, but always felt like a more confident and self-aware version of me.
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| "I succeeded in so many ways as a leader and a communicator and made the impact I have *because* of my perspective as a trans person." Photo by Hurley Event Photography. |
There was another friend who was also like that, like someone who was further along in the process of self-actualization, who had common interests outside of simply being trans (in her case, travel and politics and cooking) and who also decided to start a family with her wife, making her our “trans parenting” role model.
Though I suppose these real-world dear friends are more like coaches than public models while I was transitioning. For those, I’d say Jan Morris and Kate Bornstein both guided me in special ways with their stories and irreverence respectively.
Now, fifteen years later, a wonderful thing is that there are more role models than I could possibly name. I mentioned Laverne Cox earlier-- I love how she is so focused on using her celebrity status to fight for trans equality like she did when she came to Massachusetts to help us keep our equal rights when they were on the ballot. Though as of this moment I would say Dr. Rachel Levine is certainly up there. She’s just run the public health and COVID-19 response for the state of Pennsylvania, saving so many lives, and she has just been nominated to be the third most senior public health official in the country. She’s a hero. And to me, she is a role model as both a public servant and as a fellow trans person.
Monika: Do you like fashion? What kind of outfits do you usually wear? Any special fashion designs, colors, or trends?
Alexandra:
I love fashion, and both the fun and the messaging tool that it can be. Yet, in that age-old parental refrain, I am in a certain period in my life, chasing small children around, that my time to take as much time with my clothing is limited (the same with makeup and hair). I definitely lean toward body-conscious fashion, in that I have fought and worked hard for the body I have chosen, so I’m proud to let it show, without necessarily showing it off either.
In the non-pandemic time professional world, I wear a lot of tailored pantsuits and sheath dresses, while my outside of work uniform is stretchy black jeans or yoga pants with a long lean top. I’m all torso. As for color, black, shades of black, gray for an occasional change of place, with the occasional white or jewel color (purple or green in particular) if I am trying to be more visible.
Monika: Many transgender ladies write their memoirs. Have you ever thought about writing such a book yourself?
Alexandra:
Ha, that is so true. I’ve thought about it and was approached by an agent once, but life and more to write about keeps getting in the way! If or when I actually do it, I want the book to have a particular focus other than the simple recitation of my life or events. I mean, I’ve lived through and done some pretty cool things, but I think I have more to say about what I have learned about leadership and communication navigating national security and political spaces as a trans woman.
So many of our community’s stories are about how we overcame or survived our experience of transness-- because much of society is awful to trans people, and that is compounded by structural racism when it comes to trans people of color. Yet in my case, I succeeded in so many ways as a leader and a communicator and made the impact I have *because* of my perspective as a trans person. I haven’t seen that book written, so I may have to write it if the world or my life ever calms down enough.
Monika: What would you recommend to all transgender women that are afraid of transition?
Alexandra: I would tell them that I understand that it is scary, and not to be hard on themselves for being afraid. Whether or not they have supportive friends or family or employers, this is a big leap that they are considering or have already realized they need to make. I would urge them to take care of themselves in every way along the way. Take care of your mind, and take care of your body, even if you may have a complex relationship with it. Find a good therapist, find ways to use your body that make you feel good (I recommend dance), and find a community in whatever way that works for you-- and that is not one size fits all.
The community can range from LGBTQ community centers to trans-specific online and offline support groups to the right gaming, music, or religious communities, all of which have worked for different trans friends of mine or me. Yet in those communities, put your safety first, and do not feel pressure to conform to anyone else’s idea of what your life or your transition, if you choose, should be. Amidst the fear, know also that this is also the best time in the history of humanity to be a trans woman. The internet can be an awful place, yet if you are a transgender woman afraid of transition reading this, you too also have some access to support and community, wherever you are, whoever you are.
I’m talking with you now. And though we may never meet, I am someone who cares about you, who is routing for you especially in the toughest moments, and who wishes you happiness. And there are lots more people like me-- like us-- out there.
Monika: Alexandra, it was a pleasure to talk to you. Thanks a lot!
END OF PART 2
All the photos: courtesy of Alexandra Chandler.
© 2021 - Monika Kowalska
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