Translator: Joseph Geni Reviewer: Ivana Korom
Hi everybody.
There are a few things that all of us need.
We all need air to breathe.
We need clean water to drink.
We need food to eat. We need shelter and love.
You know. Love is great, too.
And we all need a safe place to pee.
(Laughter) Yeah?
As a trans person who doesn't fit neatly into the gender binary,
if I could change the world tomorrow
to make it easier for me to navigate,
the very first thing I would do
is blink and create single stall, gender-neutral bathrooms
in all public places.
(Applause)
Trans people and trans issues,
they've been getting a lot of mainstream media attention lately.
And this is a great and necessary thing,
but most of that attention has been focused
on a very few individuals,
most of whom are kinda rich
and pretty famous,
and probably don't have to worry that much anymore about where they're going to pee
in between classes at their community college,
or where they're going to get changed into their gym strip
at their public high school.
Fame and money insulates these television star trans people
from most of the everyday challenges
that the rest of us have to tackle on a daily basis.
Public bathrooms.
They've been a problem for me since as far back as I can remember,
first when I was just a little baby tomboy
and then later as a masculine-appearing, predominantly estrogen-based organism.
(Laughter)
Now, today as a trans person, public bathrooms and change rooms
are where I am most likely to be questioned or harassed.
I've often been verbally attacked behind their doors.
I've been hauled out by security guards with my pants still halfway pulled up.
I've been stared at, screamed at, whispered about,
and one time I got smacked in the face by a little old lady's purse
that from the looks of the shiner I took home that day
I am pretty certain contained at least 70 dollars of rolled up small change
and a large hard candy collection.
(Laughter)
And I know what some of you are thinking,
and you're mostly right.
I can and do just use the men's room most of the time these days.
But that doesn't solve my change room dilemmas, does it?
And I shouldn't have to use the men's room because I'm not a man.
I'm a trans person.
And now we've got these fearmongering politicians
that keep trying to pass these bathroom bills.
Have you heard about these?
They try to legislate to try and force people like myself
to use the bathroom that they deem most appropriate
according to the gender I was assigned at birth.
And if these politicians ever get their way,
in Arizona or California or Florida
or just last week in Houston, Texas,
or Ottawa,
well then, using the men's room will not be a legal option for me either.
And every time one of these politicians brings one of these bills to the table,
I can't help but wonder, you know,
just who will and exactly how would we go about enforcing laws like these. Right?
Panty checks?
Really.
Genital inspections outside of bath change rooms at public pools?
There's no legal or ethical or plausible way
to enforce laws like these anyway.
They exist only to foster fear
and promote transphobia.
Meanwhile...
They don't make anyone safer.
But they do for sure make the world more dangerous for some of us.
And meanwhile, our trans children suffer.
They drop out of school, or they opt out of life altogether.
Trans people, especially trans and gender-nonconforming youth
face additional challenges when accessing pools and gyms,
but also universities,
hospitals, libraries.
Don't even get me started on how they treat us in airports.
If we don't move now
to make sure that these places
are truly open and accessible to everyone,
then we just need to get honest
and quit calling them public places.
We need to just admit
that they are really only open for people
who fit neatly into one of two gender boxes,
which I do not.
I never have.
And this starts very early.
I know a little girl. She's the daughter of a friend of mine.
She's a self-identified tomboy.
I'm talking about cowboy boots
and Caterpillar yellow toy trucks and bug jars, the whole nine yards.
One time I asked her what her favorite color was.
She told me, "Camouflage."
(Laughter)
So that awesome little kid,
she came home from school last October
from her half day of preschool
with soggy pants on because the other kids at school were harassing her
when she tried to use the girls' bathroom.
And the teacher had already instructed her to stay out of the boys' bathroom.
And she had drank two glasses of that red juice
at the Halloween party,
and I mean, who can resist that red juice, right? It's so good.
And she couldn't hold her pee any longer.
Her and her classmates were four years old.
They already felt empowered enough
to police her use of the so-called public bathrooms.
She was four years old.
She had already been taught the brutal lesson
that there was no bathroom door at preschool
with a sign on it that welcomed people like her.
She'd already learned that bathrooms were going to be a problem,
and that problem started with her
and was hers alone.
So my friend asked me to talk to her little daughter,
and I did.
I wanted to tell her
that me and her mom were going to march on down
and talk to that school, and the problem was going to go away,
but I knew that wasn't true.
I wanted to tell her that it was all going to get better when she got older,
but I couldn't.
So I asked her to tell me the story of what had happened,
asked her to tell me how it made her feel.
"Mad and sad,"
she told me.
So I told her
that she wasn't alone
and that it wasn't right what had happened to her,
and then she asked me if I had ever peed in my pants before.
I said yes, I had,
but not for a really long time.
(Laughter)
Which of course was a lie,
because you know how you hit, like, 42 or 43,
and sometimes you just, I don't know, you pee a little bit
when you cough or sneeze,
when you're running upstairs, or you're stretching.
Don't lie.
It happens. Right?
She doesn't need to know that, I figure.
(Laughter)
I told her, when you get older, your bladder is going to grow bigger, too.
When you get old like me,
you're going to be able to hold your pee for way longer,
I promised her.
"Until you can get home?"
she asked me.
I said, "Yes,
until you can get home."
She seemed to take some comfort in that.
So let's just build some single stall, gender-neutral bathrooms
with a little bench for getting changed into your gym clothes.
We can't change the world overnight
for our children,
but we can give them a safe and private place
to escape that world,
if only for just a minute.
This we can do.
So let's just do it.
And if you are one of those people who is sitting out there right now
already coming up with a list of reasons in your head why this is not a priority,
or it's too expensive,
or telling yourself that giving a trans person a safe place to pee
or get changed in
supports a lifestyle choice that you feel offends your morality,
or your masculinity,
or your religious beliefs,
then let me just appeal
to the part of your heart that probably, hopefully,
does care about the rest of the population.
If you can't bring yourself to care enough about people like me,
then what about women and girls
with body image issues?
What about anyone with body image stuff going on?
What about that boy at school who is a foot shorter than his classmates,
whose voice still hasn't dropped yet? Hey?
Oh, grade eight,
what a cruel master you can be.
Right?
What about people with anxiety issues?
What about people with disabilities or who need assistance in there?
What about folks with bodies who, for whatever reason,
don't fit into the mainstream idea of what a body should look like?
How many of us still feel shy
or afraid to disrobe in front of our peers,
and how many of us allow that fear
to keep us from something as important
as physical exercise?
Would all those people not benefit
from these single stall facilities, too?
We can't change transphobic minds overnight,
but we can give everybody
a place to get changed in
so that we can all get to work
making the world safer
for all of us.
Thank you for listening.
(Applause)
Thank you.
(Applause)