Translator: Robert Tucker Reviewer: Denise RQ
When I was six years old,
my daddy took me to the local public library.
We both love books,
and I was in heaven in the children's section.
We'd been there for several hours when I needed to use the bathroom.
This is my first memory of using a public toilet without my mom,
and I was nervous.
So, I waited and waited,
and pretty soon, I couldn't wait any longer.
My dad said I'd be fine,
and he'd wait for me outside the bathroom door.
I still remember staring up at the huge, dark door
and having to press my entire six-year-old weight against it
just to get it to open.
I made my way inside and successfully locked myself in a bathroom stall
before realizing, to my horror, that I couldn't get my clothes off.
I was wearing a little floral romper with four big buttons up the back,
and I couldn't reach them or get them undone.
I panicked, and there, right in front of the toilet,
I wet my pants.
I still remember my shame as I had to tell my dad what happened
and ride home in wet clothes.
25 years later, I wondered for the first time,
when did we start segregating gender in public restrooms.
This has been a pretty dramatic year for public restrooms
with political fear-mongering,
boycotts of businesses and even entire states,
all over our perception of public restrooms
and our safety and privacy inside them.
So I did some research.
Our history with separate restrooms is surprisingly short.
The first public restroom segregated by gender
was in Paris, in 1739, at a ball held in a restaurant.
The addition of toilets for ladies was notable
because, prior to this,
public restrooms were either unmarked or for men only.
It was assumed ladies wouldn't need to be outside of their homes
for long enough to need to use the restroom.
(Laughter)
In 1887, Massachusetts became the first state
to require that employers provide separate toilets for women.
Women were entering the workplace for the first time,
and separate restrooms were society's response
to a rapidly changing reality in America,
where women worked outside the home and had more independence.
Separate restrooms were also an attempt to protect women's genteel sensibilities.
By the 1920s, most states and municipalities had enacted regulations
mandating oddly specific ratios of women's toilets to men's toilets.
Only a few decades later,
public toilets became even more politicized,
when segregationists in the South
were attempting to mandate, or integrate public spaces for blacks and whites.
Segregation has spread fear throughout an already tense white population
that if blacks were allowed to use public restrooms,
it would lead directly to black men having sexual access to white women.
White women joined the conversation
by protesting that they couldn't use public restrooms used by black women
because they would catch their venereal diseases
from the toilet seats.
Whites defended their restrooms with protests and violence.
Sammy Younge Jr., a black civil rights activist,
was shot in the back of the head and killed
by a white service station attendant
when attempting to use the white restroom.
The service station attendant was later found not guilty by an all-white jury.
These messages of fear continued into the 1950s and 1960s.
By the 1970s,
the new political debates were about women and the feminist movement.
Conservatives and anti-Equal Rights Amendment activists spread fear
by suggesting that if the Equal Rights Amendment were passed,
it would lead directly to the sex integration of public toilets,
and drew on racism
by suggesting that it would lead to predatory black sexual violence
against women and children.
These messages of fear were very effective,
and the Equal Rights Amendment was never passed.
The politics of public restrooms have a new target now.
Shortly after the June 2015 Supreme Court ruling
legalizing gay marriage,
conservatives in Houston
struck back against the city's new Anti-Discrimination Ordinance, HERO.
The law prohibited discrimination in housing,
public accommodation, and employment
for all Houstonians regardless of race, color, religion,
and many other protected categories
including sexual orientation and gender identity.
A group of pastors gathered signatures and initiated court cases
to call for a public vote
as to whether the law should remain in place.
Those who oppose the law campaigned
using television appearances, commercials, and newspaper articles
to show that allowing transgender women to access women's restrooms
would leave cisgender women and girls vulnerable to attack by men.
I'm going to pause for a moment and clarify what cisgender means.
"Cis-" comes from the Latin root meaning "on this side of."
So, I, as someone
whose internal understanding of my gender matches the body I was born with,
I'm a cisgender woman.
When I was born, my doctor marked the box on the birth certificate as female,
and, as I grew up,
my gender identity developed the way that my doctor expected.
Most cisgender people never think about their gender identity,
but we all have one.
The way you express yours
will be different than the way others express theirs.
"Trans-" comes from the Latin prefix meaning "across from."
Transgender people realize, often at a young age,
that their internal sense of gender
does not match the body they were born with.
When a transgender person is born,
their birth certificate is marked to closely match what is seen.
But as transgender people grow,
their gender identity does not turn out the way their doctor expected.
Some transgender people do not feel they should've been the other gender,
but, instead, a combination of genders, or even neither gender.
We have evidence transgender people have existed
throughout history and in cultures worldwide.
The most recent estimates of the transgender population
are 0.6% of the US population or 1.4 million people.
We refer to the way someone shows their gender identity to the world
as gender expression.
For instance, a woman may enjoy wearing her hair cropped short,
or a man may wear the color pink.
They're expressing their gender
in ways that are different than our culture expects.
We all use gender expression
when we make choices about our hair, makeup, grooming, and clothing.
So, if gender is so individual
why do we feel so uncomfortable in public bathrooms?
I recently attended an event
benefiting the transgender community at a public venue.
I headed for the restrooms to wash my hands before eating
and stopped when I saw that the men's and women's signs
had been replaced with gender neutral signs.
Since they were both the same, I chose the door on the right.
As I stepped through the door,
I made eye contact with a tall man at the sink, and froze.
I felt uncomfortable and surprised.
My logical understanding that I wasn't in danger
was challenged by my emotions.
He left.
I stayed and washed my hands
and tried to understand why I'd reacted that way.
I believe we've been conditioned, particularly as women,
to see public restrooms as dirty and unsafe.
The messages we hear about protecting women's safety in public restrooms
appeal to a deep part of ourselves
that understands that we are vulnerable to attack.
I can be a kind of paranoid person about risks,
and always need to understand the worst-case scenario.
So, what's the worst-case scenario in a public restroom?
As someone who watches way too much of the TV show "Criminal Minds,"
my belief is that the worst-case scenario is my rape and murder.
And just how likely is that to occur?
I am at significantly more risk of being raped by someone I know
than in a public restroom.
In fact, there has never been a verifiable reported instance
of a trans person harassing a cisperson in a public restroom,
nor have there been any verifiable reported instances
of men pretending to be transgender
in order to gain access to women's spaces and commit crimes against them.
The few, verified, more recent reports, I could find
of men behaving badly in women's restrooms
were of peeping-tom-type behaviors by a cisgender man.
It is already illegal in every state
to peep, sexually assault, or murder someone,
and those laws already apply to public bathrooms.
So if I don't have a reason to be afraid in a public restroom, who does?
Apparently, anyone who looks different enough to frighten someone.
A cisgender Detroit woman sued a restaurant in 2015
after she was mistaken for a man
and physically pulled out of a woman's bathroom stall.
The security guard who mistook her short hair as her being male,
allegedly shoved her up against the wall
and said boys aren't allowed in this restroom,
before refusing to look at her identification.
Public restrooms are some of the most dangerous places for the transgender,
and every time they must use one, they must effectively self-segregate
and decide which restroom will be safest for them that day.
In 2011, a 22-year-old transgender woman
was savagely beaten in a Maryland McDonald's bathroom
after two other women recognized her as being transgender.
The attackers dragged her across the floor by her hair
before kicking and punching her until she had a seizure.
A McDonald's employee who filmed the vicious attack
was heard laughing on the video.
A customer had to intervene to stop what was happening.
Many transgender people do their best to avoid public restrooms entirely
because of the frequent inconsistent trouble they experience
just trying to relieve themselves.
The 2015 United States Transgender Survey Report showed,
really just weeks ago,
that 12% of US trans people report
being harassed, attacked, or sexually assaulted
in a bathroom in the last year.
The 2015 US Transgender Survey Report
also showed almost 60% of trans people have avoided restrooms in the last year
because they feared confrontations at work, school, and other places.
This restroom avoidance shouldn't be taken lightly
because there can be real consequences for holding your pee for too long.
Eight percent of US trans people surveyed
showed that they had kidney, or urinary tract infections,
or other kidney-related medical diseases in the last year
from avoiding restrooms.
Think for a moment about the impact on your life
if you had to think and plan that carefully
just to use the restroom safely.
Can you imagine being in a new place
and having to decide from the clues around you
whether you'd be safest in the men's room, the women's room, or if neither is safe?
If you had to go home every time you had to use the bathroom,
how far could you really go,
and what life experiences and opportunities might you miss out on?
So why do I care so much?
Several years ago, my husband and I were spending time with extended family
after a funeral brought us all together.
We were gathered around the breakfast table,
when the topic of traveling with Airbnb came up.
My husband and I love meeting new people when we travel,
and were expressing how much we love Airbnb,
when an aunt said that she would like to try hosting.
She was very concerned that she'd be able to guarantee
that the homosexuals would not be able to book and stay in her home.
I must have been naive at the time because I was shocked by her attitude.
But I didn't disagree with her
for fear of embarrassing myself or making a scene,
because I didn't know if I knew enough about gay or transgender people
to articulate myself.
So I decided to learn.
I read articles and listened to podcasts.
I watched as the debate about marriage equality
played out on a national stage.
I started volunteering at my local LGBT community center
and met incredible people.
I still feel ashamed
that my silence and lack of bravery in that first moment
may have given my aunts and others the impression that I agreed with her.
I wish I could go back in time
and tell her I don't believe others should be treated differently
because of who they are or whom they love.
I'm asking you today to ask yourself
if you've been misled about public restrooms.
Maybe you believe those who said you were in danger:
but have you thought about what it might mean if you didn't need to be afraid?
We're saturated with news stories
convincing us of many things to be afraid of.
My belief is that public restrooms and transgender people
are not some of those things.
I feel lucky that I don't have to consider my safety as trans people do
every time I have to use a public restroom.
On seeing those who look different than I do,
I try to remember
they're expressing their gender differently than I express mine,
and that that's OK.
Seeing a transgender person in the bathroom,
I also try to remember
that they did a brave thing just by walking through the door.
And that I can be brave too
by paying more attention to their behavior than their appearance.
I won't ignore my own safety or the safety of others
if I see someone engaged in inappropriate or illegal behavior,
but I will wait to act until I've been able to distinguish
between someone who looks different and someone who's committing a crime.
My sister was recently in a Walmart store with her young son
when he needed to use the bathroom.
Going to the front of the store,
my sister was thrilled to see a family restroom sign.
They went in and went to the stalls, but they were all occupied,
so they had to wait in line.
My sister said she noticed men using urinals
and was so impressed that Walmart had gender-neutral restrooms.
They had to wait line a while, but eventually got in and out.
And on her way out the door,
my sister said she noticed that the family restroom sign
was directing customers to the back of the store.
She'd been standing in line in the men's room for at least 10 minutes,
While she was embarrassed by her mistake, my sister said how impressed she was
that none of the men had said anything unkind to her
or asked her to leave.
The easiest thing you can do to stop the violence in public restrooms
is to be like the men in the Walmart restroom
and do nothing.
Don't point or stare;
don't tell people they're in the wrong place.
Another easy thing you can do to create welcoming environments
is to smile.
Smiling tells others that you're friendly and mean no harm.
If you decide you want to do more, you can use your voice.
Use your voice on social media to advocate for change.
Or use your voice when your relative says something uncomfortable
over Thanksgiving dinner,
and have a real conversation instead of just ignoring it.
You may think that your voice alone can't make a difference,
but the more voices that come together, the louder we will be.
Thank you.
(Applause)