Daniel*, 16, has a routine similar to many kids for the start of the school year. He chooses new school supplies and tries to get back into a schedule after the long days of summer. But one of the tasks on his list is one many students don’t have to think about: telling his teachers he’s trans.
Like Daniel, many trans kids approach the nerves and excitement of a new school year with quotidian concerns ever young person has: Which friends they'll sit with at lunch or if their new teachers will be strict. But those worries are compounded by other, bigger ones: Will their teachers use the correct pronouns? Will their peers be accepting? Will they be allowed to use the bathroom that aligns with their gender identity? And there's cause for that worry. This year has seen a record number of anti-LGBTQIA bills introduced in state houses across the country, contributing to anti-trans sentiment and making trans young people feel less and less safe.
Daniel's mom, Lizette, emails his teachers before the start of the school year, giving them background on the family and their advocacy work. And, during the first week of school, Daniel tries to get a read on his teachers. “You’re scouting around with your teacher, trying to see if they’re an ally or not,” he says. “And it’s simple things, like whether or not they have a little pronoun box on the get-to-know-you papers, things like that.”
Jackie, 16, worries about her classmates in her New York high school. Will there be new kids who react badly if they find out she’s trans? Will some peers have sharpened their views over the summer and target her with their anti-trans outlook? Jackie feels the change brought on by the rise of anti-trans legislation and politicians using the trans community as a boogeyman. “People feel like they have to choose one side or the other,” she says.
According to a PBS NewsHour/NPR/Marist poll published in March, more and more people support anti-trans legislation. That poll found that 43% of Americans support laws that criminalize transition-related medical care for minors, marking a 15 percentage point increase from April 2021. Despite the increase, the majority of Americans still oppose such bills, but that hasn’t stopped legislators from introducing them at a rapid clip. According to the Trans Legislation Tracker, 566 bills have been introduced in 49 states. Of those, 83 have passed.
The impact of these bills certainly reaches well beyond the classroom, but Daniel still sees the summer as a break from the transphobia he fears at school. It’s not that he doesn’t face transphobia outside of school, but he says much of it comes from his classmates and peers. During the summer months, he gets a break from that. “During the summer, we’re just with our parents and our close friends that we don’t have to think about gender with,” Daniel says. “But then we go back to school and we have to deal with these transphobic and ignorant people.”
Not all trans young people feel this way, though — many find support in their community. Despite the national political climate becoming steadily more anti-trans, Elle, 17, feels a new level of acceptance in her Arizona high school. “More kids have come around to the idea of trans people and they’re more accepting, which I’m thankful for,” she says.
There have been some bumps in the road: Last year, a church group came to her school district’s board meeting and pushed back against trans students being able to use their preferred locker room and bathroom, and she’s heard people talking behind her back (in one case, girls were talking about her being able to use the girl’s bathroom, not knowing she was in one of the stalls). But mostly, Elle has felt supported by her school and her peers. She’s able to use the women’s restroom at school and her name and pronouns are correctly listed on the class roster. She’s excited for her senior year of high school and looking forward to the end of it, when she gets to graduate and head to college.
Before his name was legally changed, Callum, 17, would email his teachers at the start of each school year. He would state his legal name and what he preferred to be called. “The email was like, ‘my name is Callum, you may not see this name on your roster. And I want to let you know that my pronouns are he/him,’” he says. “I would tell them to reach out if they had any other questions.” Some teachers didn’t respond while others thanked him for letting them know. Now, the class roster reflects his legal name change and the email explanation isn’t needed. And, he says, having started hormone treatments, his voice is lower than it was before and his face is more masculine. In other words, he is more himself.
Despite the name change and outwardly appearing as male, Callum worries. “I still get anxious going into the men’s restroom because of this underlying, irrational fear that someone’s going to point me out,” he says. “And even though my name is legally changed, I still get scared that something’s going to be messed up. That’s what’s really scary. On top of being a student and having to deal with academics, there’s the extra layer of having to navigate your identity and [hope] people understand it.”
It’s this understanding that — even for those who feel supported — many trans youth seek.
“Sometimes I think the problem is how teachers and students see trans kids as trans first and then human,” Jackie says. Her wish is simple: to be seen for who she is, not how she identifies.
*This article uses first names only to protect the privacy of trans youth.
