Perfectly straightened, midnight-black hair frames the face of political science junior Steven Tran. Chocolate colored eyes are lined in black liner, and sky blue jeans hug the slender hips of his body. The words Sigma Phi Beta run along the front of his T-shirt.
On these days, Tran is "Steven."
But on other days, Tran can be spotted strutting in sky-high stilettos and a lace-trimmed tank top. A swaying black miniskirt skims the tops of his thighs. The smudged liner is accented by dark eye shadow, and silver hoop earrings swing breezily from his earlobes.
On these days, Tran is "Tranny."
With a pun intended, Tran's self-assigned nickname classifies him as one of the many young adults identifying themselves as transgender. In Tran's case, the term means that he neither identifies himself as male nor female.
"You can look at this both ways. You can say that I'm neither, [or] you can say that I'm both," he says. "I feel like I'm somewhere in between — where I'm not female, and I'm not male."
Yet the term "transgender" can have a variety of definitions for different people, says Madelaine Adelman, co-chair of the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) in Phoenix.
The most common meaning is a person whose gender identity or expression "does not conform to their birth sex," says Adelman, who is also an associate professor in the School of Justice and Social Inquiry. "You may be [physically] identified as a male, but you know in between your ears that you're a girl, and you desire and need to live as a girl would live in that society."
The presence of transgender individuals can be found nationwide. Groups such as GLSEN and the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning and Queer Coalition aim to encourage and support diversity in the community, but a growing presence does not always mean an easy life for a transgender.
In many cases, it's the exact opposite.
Growing up guy
It took Tran 17 years to come to terms with his sexual and gender identity.
"Growing up, I tried to be one of the guys," he says. "They'd sit around and talk about 'chicks' and cars and sports and stuff, but it just wasn't me. I just didn't understand how I could connect with a guy, so, in that sense, I didn't really feel like I was male."
Tran says he kept his identity hidden from his conservative parents, who expected him to take a traditional path in life and to become a doctor. "I think they knew something was different, they just didn't want to think it was [that I am] gay," he says.
Though Tran neither identifies himself as a man or a woman, he says he calls himself gay. "It's the easiest way to help people understand how I feel sexual orientation-wise," he says.
During his senior year of high school, Tran revealed to his friends that he is gay but has never told his parents about his status as a transgender. Divulging his long-kept secret to his friends was "exciting," but Tran says he didn't fully become himself until his freshman year of college.
As a freshman, Tran rushed the fraternity Sigma Phi Beta and joined a brotherhood of other gay, bisexual and questioning young men. He now credits the fraternity with helping him to become comfortable with expressing his "true self," which he had hidden for years before joining Sigma Phi Beta.
"The combination of coming to college and having a brotherhood right away to support me was really beneficial," Tran says. "I feel like if I didn't rush Sigma Phi Beta, I would have come to myself eventually, but I don't think it would have happened as quickly as it did."
Tran began experimenting with makeup, different hairstyles and clothing lines after dressing up in women's clothing for a fraternity social during his first semester at ASU.
Since then, he has grown more comfortable with expressing his femininity through his outward appearance.
"I definitely like to go shopping. Right now it's Charlotte Russe," he says of his favorite women's clothing store. "I can walk in and just be like, 'I need a pair of black stilettos.'"
Though Tran has not taken hormones to begin the process of changing his physical appearance, he has not ruled them out. "I've yet to experience something in my life that triggers that need for it, but I don't want to say no," he says. "For right now, I don't feel like I need it. But later down the road, if I want to, then [I would] definitely [take hormones]."
Making the change
For some, coming to college doesn't always mean coming out. ASU employee Regina, who requested her name be changed to protect her privacy, realized much later in life that living as a male — the sex she was born into — was not the lifestyle she wanted. Four years ago, at the age of 39, Regina made the decision to have a sex change.
"I went through a mid-life sex change and not a mid-life crisis," she says.
Though she is happy with her choice, Regina says that getting the sex-change operation was not an easy, overnight decision. "Being transsexual doesn't mean that one day you play with G.I. Joes and the next day you play with Barbies," she says. Instead, it was a gradual process that began with a difficult and confusing childhood.
"I was picked on, teased [and] kind of the classic, bullied child growing up all the way through high school," she says. "On the male pecking order I was definitely at the lower, lower end. I took one year of [Physical Education] and dropped out because I didn't want to be in the locker room with the guys. That's where you get beat up."
Unlike most of her male peers, sex was never a fascination or even much of an interest for Regina. "I could go two years without having sex, and it was never a big deal to me," she says. "I had girls and a few girlfriends along the way, but I never sustained a relationship."
As a male, Regina says she was "chest-thumping" and often played up a macho act. Still, most of her friends thought she was gay, and Regina dated men prior to her sex change.
Regina says that she sometimes thought about getting a sex-change operation while growing up, but a near-fatal motorcycle accident at age 23 brought her to terms with her own reality. "My first thought as I was flying through the air was, 'Maybe the windshield will catch my genitals and rip them off,' because then it would have been acceptable to my family and friends, as opposed to a choice."
It took her 16 years for her to finally make that choice.
Gender Identity Disorder?
In early 2003, Regina began following the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association's Standards of Care for Gender Identity Disorders. The Standards of Care (SOC) were developed under the controversial belief that some transgender people suffer from a medical condition called Gender Identity Disorder. The SOC are clinical guidelines designed to aid in the treatment of people with Gender Identity Disorder.
Under the SOC, Regina was advised to live for at least a year in society as a female would. She attended therapy and began taking hormones to change her physical appearance before she obtained her sexual reassignment surgery.
In May 2004, Regina traveled to Thailand for sexual reassignment surgery, or SRS. Regina says she chose to go to Thailand to visit an acclaimed doctor who performs the SRS in one session, as opposed to the more common double-procedure.
During the nine-hour procedure, Regina had her male sex organs removed and received vaginoplasty, labiaplasty and clitoroplasty to construct female genitalia. She also received breast implants, a nose job and a lip lift to give her a more feminine appearance.
She spent 10 days in the hospital, nearly nine months recovering and $27,000 to receive what she calls "the best manufactured home money can buy."
Post-operation, Regina says her family members were hesitant but eventually came to accept her and her new femininity. "They had to put my male self to rest and accept Regina, and once they did, they came to like her," she says. Regina let her family help choose the female name for her and says that as a woman, she now smiles a lot more.
"Regina really was my former self; she's just a lot nicer now," she says. "And she has better clothes."
Closing the gap
Neither Tran nor Regina say they have faced blatant discrimination, but other transgender individuals in the Valley say that they have. Scottsdale city employee Michele DeLaFreniere recently brought discrimination charges against Tom Anderson, owner of Anderson's Fifth Estate Night Club in Scottsdale, after he asked DeLaFreniere and other transgender individuals to leave his nightclub, according to news reports.
Demonstrating how volatile the controversy surrounding transgender individuals is, after posting several stories about the incident on its Web site, the East Valley Tribune newspaper has had hundreds of heated reactions posted in response to the stories, with comments ranging from supporting to attacking both DeLaFreniere and Anderson.
Tran says he hopes that one day people may look past sexual and gender orientation as a means for discrimination. "I just want people to see sexuality and gender expression as they would see any other difference in a person, like eye color or hair color," he says. "Hopefully it will get to the point where it's like, 'Oh, hey, it's that guy, Tran, who likes to wear heels."
All people interviewed for this article feel that education is the best way to promote understanding in a culture that is still grappling with the term "transgender."
"If we were willing to be a little less rigid about our own sense of gender identity, we'd be able to understand that there are some people who cannot and do not want to conform to these socially expected categories," Adelman says.
As president of his fraternity, Tran hopes to give other men the same opportunity to express themselves that he was given as a freshman. "I found that safe space where I could test my boundaries and my limits and see what I liked and what I didn't like," he says. "I'm willing to commit to whatever it takes to give other people the same opportunity."
Regina hopes to educate students about acceptance through speeches she gives on campus. "Transsexuals are not evil, cross-dressing serial killers like you see in the movies," she says. "If I can get one [student] to understand that I'm a normal person with a medical condition, that I'm not some crazy person and that I'm successful and intelligent, then I've done my job."
Both Tran and Regina recognize that there will be some opinions that will not change.
"I can't say I've never been called 'a fag' or anything like that, because I have," Tran says. "I just don't pay attention to it."
"You'll always get the people who are like, 'Oh, my God,' and they'll stare, and you can tell they're saying stuff about you," he . "But I'm not an animal at the zoo."
For now, Tran and his friends say they don't pay attention to a person gawking at them; in fact, close friend and theater junior Brian Fleming says the look may even be worth turning one's head for. "At least if people are going to look, they'll get a good look," he says. "Because we always look good when we go out."
Tran also says that having a positive attitude has helped him look past the prejudice he sometimes feels. "It doesn't matter how much the world disagrees," he says. "I am happy to be me."
Reach the reporter: nicole.m.stewart@asu.edu.
