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Jenny Boylan on humanizing the trans experience

Jenny Boylan on humanizing the trans experience

Boston Globe31-01-2025
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The following is a lightly edited transcript of the Jan. 29 episode of the 'Say More' podcast.
Jim Dao:
Welcome to 'Say More' from Boston Globe Opinion - I'm Jim Dao, Editorial Page Editor. I've known Jenny Boylan for years, first and foremost as an endearing, funny writer. But she's also a transgender woman, who has advocated for trans rights since she came out in the early 2000s.
Dao:
And now, days into Trump's second term, she worries for the lives and work of trans people across the country. Jenny's been active on this issue for decades, and she's seen the culture change for better and for worse. She's got the long view.
Dao:
She has a new book called 'Cleavage: Men, Women and the Space Between Us.' It goes beyond the politics of trans life and deep into the personal. She talks about the boy she once was, the woman she became, and the many ways trans people are misunderstood.
Dao:
Jenny, so great to see you. Welcome to the Globe Studio.
Jenny Boylan:
Hi, Jim. Thanks for having me.
Dao:
So, we originally invited you to talk about your book, but with this timing, we felt we had to start with talking about Trump and his presidency, and what they could mean for your life and the life and work of other transgender people.
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Dao:
Tell us a little bit about what's been on your mind for these last couple weeks.
Boylan:
Well, one thing that happened is that the day after the inauguration, I woke up in my bed and sat up and realized that for the first time in 25 years, I was a man again, at least as far as if the executive order that was issued by Donald Trump is to be taken at face value, which I guess it probably shouldn't.
Boylan:
I know that his executive order, attempting to erase transgender people, will probably be challenged in the courts and some of it is unenforceable. But, some of it is enforceable and will have an immediate effect. For instance, no non-binary passports.
Boylan:
But for someone like me, to be redefined as male, imagine my surprise to wake up, and my wife, to whom I have been married to for 36 years now, is back in apparently a heterosexual marriage for the first time in 25 years. And she was surprised, too. And what surprised us, is that in fact as far as our lives are concerned, at least that morning, nothing had changed. We still have have each other. I'm still me. I still feel the thing in my heart that I have felt since I was a child.
Boylan:
They have run into the challenge that, that they will ought to have run into in attempting to define gender in this binary way. They're saying at conception, the size of the reproductive, I mean, it won't hold up at all. But what it illustrates is that actually defining the difference between men and women turns out to be very difficult.
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Dao:
So the debates you just described broadly over trying to define what is a man, trying to define what is a woman, has been going on for years now, right? And you've witnessed it across your adult life. It's super complicated.
Dao:
Are you astonished that it has become such a major issue for so many people in the Republican Party, in particular? There's some Democrats too, but in the Republican Party in particular, it elevated into a presidential issue this past year, and it's the first thing, or one of the first things he does when he enters the Oval Office.
Boylan:
Well, the thing is, here's a small group of people who are generally misunderstood. I mean, even after, for me, 25 years as an advocate now, I am still pretty sure that the majority of Americans could not tell you the difference between a transgender person and the Trans-Siberian Railroad. So, am I surprised that the Republicans have grabbed onto this issue? No, because it's a way of firing up the base by using a small misunderstood, maligned group as their whipping girls.
Boylan:
In some ways, it's the same thing they're trying to do with immigrants to this country who, you know, are not murderers and rapists, who are not eating the dogs. I mean, it's essentially raising middle school to the level of executive office politics, which is to say, let's find the people who are funny looking and different and exclude them. And that will give us a sense of power.
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Boylan:
Do you think I'm right on that? Is that what's happening?
Dao:
I think there's a part of it. Absolutely. I mean, look, I think that there are also some people who are just genuinely concerned or bothered by things like having a large transgender woman playing on a field with a smaller woman.
Boylan:
Yeah, well, I think part of, and this is going to get me in trouble, but I would say transgender issues have been defined largely by some of the more extreme cases. So, trans women in women's sports, children self defining, children on hormone blockers. These are all things that I support and believe in and if you have enough time and enough interest, I could explain to you why at least those two issues are probably less controversial than they ought to be.
Boylan:
But that's not what defines our lives, by and large. You know, I've been in this body for 25 years now and for the most part I've encountered no trouble whatsoever from the outside world. I served on the the PTA in my little hometown, I volunteered in the library, I'm a parent and a member of my community. And my womanhood is generally not called into question by anybody.
Boylan:
The idea that my gender is part of a national argument, which I could well win or lose, and apparently with Trump's election, I've lost at least some parts of that argument. It's insulting and it's demeaning and, you know, 'What do I want? What's my agenda?' My agenda is to be left alone. My agenda is to be able to live my life, to raise my children, to love my wife, to teach my students at Barnard. Because what does anyone care what's in my pants? It shocks me that people finding their peace should be an occasion of such outrage.
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Dao:
You use the word advocate to describe yourself just a moment ago. I've seen you described as an activist and yet you are, I think probably in your own mind, first and foremost, a prolific writer and a professor of English, a teacher of writing and literature.
Dao:
How do you feel about being described as an activist?
Boylan:
It's funny, when it came out, I thought I really didn't want to be an activist because I felt that that meant being angry all the time and being defined solely by who I was, as a transgender person. I wanted to be something more. I wanted to be also known as, or respected for being, a storyteller and a writer of opinions for places like the Boston Globe.
Boylan:
What I learned is that storytelling is maybe the best form of activism. It opens more hearts than lectures. There's something about a story that gets into people's hearts and opens them. I don't have a problem being called an activist or an advocate, but in some ways I think that's really just another word for storyteller.
Dao:
So, you transitioned about 25 years ago…
Boylan:
I did. You know, 25 years ago, no one had been formally given instructions on how to hate me. People were generally generous and kind. I came out to my 85-year-old Evangelical Christian Republican mother on a Sunday night. I got all weepy. I started crying. And my mother, tiny woman, sat down next to me, she wiped the tears off my face, and she said, 'Love will prevail.'' And that was generally the response that people gave to me.
Dao:
Wow. And so, do you think you would not get that response today?
Boylan:
I would not get that response now because now transgender people have been redefined as these wild-eyed people who want to, I don't know, change the gender of your child in third grade.
Boylan:
In some ways 25 years ago, it was easier because people had nothing to fall back upon in those days than their own sense of human decency. A lot of the responses I got then were along the lines of, 'Well, Jenny, I, I don't know what this is, I don't really understand this, but we've always loved you, so we'll follow wherever you want us to go.'
Dao:
Well, so your memoir, 'She's Not There,' which I only read a few years ago, but it came out, how long ago?
Boylan:
2003.
Dao:
2003. And it's a very accessible, human, open-hearted description of what it is to go from being a man, a full grown man, with a family, to a woman. And to me, it's a book that probably really helped a lot of cisgender people understand what happens.
And so, what I'm wondering is, would it be harder to write a book like that in this moment?
Boylan:
I think younger people now that are trans approach the issues differently. That's another thing that's changed. There's much more of a sense of being trans as part of a larger queer identity as a way of being kind of an outlaw. There's certainly more people who want to define themselves as non-binary.
Boylan:
When I came out, there was a relatively straight line to follow and there was a sense that transition meant, a full transition. It involved surgery, hormones, electrolysis, which is the process of, in my case, removing my beard from my face.
Boylan:
So that was the path. There's a lot more different ways of being trans now. Which, on the one hand, great, good, people get to be themselves and to follow the stars that shine down for them and to define themselves on their own terms. So yes, that's great. And I'm fighting for
those people, but also those people, people who are non-binary, these are the people who scare many of the Donald Trump voters. And actually many of the Kamala Harris voters, too, to be honest. It's maybe easy to get your mind around someone who has done the full transition and looks female than it is to get your mind around someone who is kind of deliberately and joyfully playing in the middle with gender.
Boylan:
The one thing, by the way since we're doing this podcast as obviously audio, the one thing about me that's still kind of masculine is my voice here. And a lot of people who are listening to this are like, she doesn't sound like some beautiful lady. I could attempt to give you the voice that I was trained to do during therapy, but I don't like talking like that. You know, I like my voice because it's mine. And if you're at home listening to this, you have to imagine that the person who this voice belongs to is just this fabulously beautiful woman.
Boylan:
Jim, you would agree with that, right?
Dao:
Absolutely. A hundred percent. I guarantee it.
Boylan:
And by the way, Jim, you're looking pretty good too, I might say right now.
Dao:
More of my conversation with Jenny Boylan after a short break.
Dao:
So for those of the listeners who aren't familiar with your story, you felt that you were really a girl for a long time.
Boylan:
Oh yeah, yeah, really one of my earliest memories. It''s just something I always had and my sense was one, I knew this to be true and two, I also knew that this was something that was going to get me into trouble. I knew instinctively not to talk to people about it, and, and to try whatever I could do to fit in. And, you know, that lasted about 40 years. Until finally, I just broke. I couldn't go any further. The question is really not 'Why then?,' the question is 'How did I get there? How did it go for so long?''
Dao:
Was there a moment that really made you think, 'Okay, now is the time.' You know, you're married, you have a loving wife, a great relationship, wonderful children, a good career. Was there something?
Boylan:
I was stopped at a railroad crossing near where I used to teach at Colby College in Maine. The barrier came down, and there was, you know, the
ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding
, and this freight train went by. There must have been 50 cars, 60 cars. And eventually the train went on, the barrier went up, and people behind me started honking. And I just thought, I cannot go another step. I didn't like, walk through the door, when I got home and say, 'Honey, I'm changing my name to Tiffany Chiffon.'
Boylan:
What I said was, 'Honey, I think I need to get into therapy.'' Because we talked about gender stuff before that.
Dao:
So she knew where you were coming from?
Boylan:
She knew a little bit. I don't think she knew fully what lay ahead. But I'm not sure that either of us did.
Dao:
You write in the new book that gender transition is like being fired out of a cannon. I think that's the right phrase. It's just like, it was so exciting, but it was also like, incredibly freeing, right? For those who haven't read that book or 'She's Not There,' can you describe that excitement and elation that you felt?
Boylan:
Well, just imagine, imagine your whole life you've been in a dark room and suddenly the lights come on. Or, even better, imagine that you're in a country where you know you don't belong and you've learned the language, but you know that your language is actually some other language, and you know that your home is somewhere across the sea, and the ocean is wide and perilous, but at a certain moment you realize you have to go home, you have to find the place where you belong. And so imagine stepping onto the shores of, well, what did Tolkien call it? A far green country under a swift sunrise. Where suddenly you know that you belong. And the language that you speak is the language.
Dao:
There are several parts of the book where you describe your boyhood and what I found quite lovely, quite honestly, is that you describe that period in a kind of a loving way, that you, you sort of liked being that little boy, even as you had those struggles. And maybe I'm getting that wrong, you could explain it. You were mischievous, you did kind of fun boy things.
Boylan:
Yeah, we had a rocket club.
Dao:
And then you talk about how that little boy is still part of you, which is quite an idea I think.
Boylan:
Well, what does it mean to be a woman who had a boyhood?
Boylan:
Let's be clear, there are transgender women that I know who in conversation would deny ever having been male and that they see themselves as always having been female and that going through surgery, or what we call gender confirmation surgery, essentially confirmed a thing that was always true and was always there.
Boylan:
And I mean, I feel that way as well, that who I am was always within me. I don't have any shame in talking about the fact that there was a time before and you know, everyone needs a childhood and I think feeling whole in this world is very much about being able to build a bridge between who you are and who you were. And that's true for everybody. It's not just a transgender thing.
Boylan:
So being a boy was not all abject misery. Being a boy and a young man, a lot of times, was really fun. I mean a lot of times it was horrible, too, and not only because of the gender stuff. But being a boy was okay, I guess, except knowing that I had the sense of difference that I couldn't talk to anyone about and I had the secret that I was carrying around. You know in some ways, the biggest difference is not going from male to female. The biggest difference is going from someone who has a secret to a person who doesn't have one.
Boylan:
And if you have a secret, it's kind of like having like a St. Bernard dog or something. It just follows you around everywhere. You always have to be worrying about this giant, drooling thing. And if you don't have a St. Bernard to have to worry about, if you don't have something you're trying to hide, that's so empowering.
Dao:
I wanted to ask you about transition. Transition, obviously, suggests moving from one thing to another. In your case, from being a man to a woman. But now you've been a woman for 25 years. And I'm curious as to whether you could talk a little bit about whether are you still a trans person? Or are you a woman?
Boylan:
That's a really good question, because to some degree, I would say I'm not trans anymore. I mean, and it kind of depends what you think the leading issues are, and that's where you get into trouble.
Boylan:
For me, the leading issues, most of them were physical and medical. I didn't want to be a more feminine person than I was. I'm probably about as feminine now as I was before. Being female was never about wearing stilettos and doing a French braid and eating cupcakes.
Boylan:
Can I parse this for listeners? There's a difference between maleness and femaleness, however you might define that, but I would define it, if we're talking about the physical body. And what I wanted to do was to transition from male to female, so the body that I'm in now with breasts, vagina, clitoris, pardon the expression, that's the body that I've landed in.
Boylan:
It used to be I'd wake up in the morning and I'd think, 'Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I'm gonna have to walk around wearing this mask again all day long. And it gets harder and harder and harder.' Now, I wake up in the morning, and unless I have to do a podcast with you, Jim, I don't think about gender at all.
Boylan:
I just wake up and I'm like, 'Well, I think I'm gonna make some porridge.' That's the thing that Donald Trump is trying to make illegal. Jenny Boylan, stop it with the porridge. We're gonna call you Jimbo and make you eat steak.
Boylan:
Anyway, transition. In the same way that I'm proud of my boyhood, and connecting to the person that I was. I'm proud of my trans history and having been through that amazing journey. I used to think that being trans was a curse. It was like the worst thing. Cause not only is it this terrible burden you're walking around with, but also it's one that other people find stupid,
or hilarious, or there's just people that understand this so ineptly that all they can do is think you're a joke.
Boylan:
I thought it was a curse like colorblindness, which is you tell someone you're colorblind, and instead of them putting their arms around you and saying, 'Oh, you poor thing.' They're like, 'Hey, what color is this? Ah, that's so weird, man. That's not red, that's blue.'
Boylan:
So especially when I was a kid, I just felt like, how am I going to survive in this world? It was so bad that, and I wrote about this in 'She's Not There,' that at one point I drove to Nova Scotia by myself, parked the car and climbed this mountain and stood at the edge of a cliff and looked down into the waves and said, 'Okay, this is what you came here to do, let's, let's do it.'
Boylan:
And the thing that kept me from jumping was this fierce wind off the Atlantic and I fell backwards into the moss and looked up at the blue sky and thought, 'Maybe I should hang out here a little bit longer.'
Boylan:
So what I learned in time was that it's not a curse, it's a gift. It's a gift, but it's a gift that takes a lot of courage to accept. I think one thing that's true is that young people now have more examples of being trans. I'd never met any transgender people before I came out, really. So, I think it's easier for children and young people now to see the thing that eluded me, which is that being trans is a very cool way of being in the world. But it's never easy.
Dao:
So, there's so many reasons to feel trepidation today, particularly if you're a trans person, perhaps, but is there anything specific that gives you hope about where we're going as a society?
Boylan:
Well, look, we have to admit this is a very hard moment. It is hard to walk around my little wonderful Maine town and know that the majority of the people in that town voted for somebody who put these policies into place. They may not have known that they were doing so, but they kind of did. What gives me hope is that life is long and the moment that we're experiencing now will not last forever. It probably feels like forever right now, but we cannot allow ourselves to be defined by people who hate us.
Boylan:
There are different strategies people have for coping with this time of trouble. I've always found writing to be both therapeutic and also helpful in terms of bringing about the changes that I want in the world. I think everyone, and this goes for people who are not trans too, this time around, let's not be distracted by the clown show. What we have to focus on is the policy. To the extent that if we can change the policy, we will. If we can't change it today, we'll change it tomorrow.
Boylan:
There's a wonderful Paul Simon song,
('Cool, Cool River')
. The line is I believe in the future we will suffer no more, maybe not in my lifetime, but in yours. I feel sure.
Boylan:
And in some ways, we just have to believe in the future. And to bring about that future. And the way we do that is also just to be known. To walk in the world with your head high, and try not to let all of this bullshit dominate our minds. We get to determine how much of this we give ourselves over to.
Dao:
Jenny Boylan is a writer and longtime LGBTQ activist. Her latest book is called 'Cleavage, Men, Women, and the Space Between Us.' It's funny and open hearted, and I highly recommend it. Jenny, thanks for being on Say More.
Boylan:
Thanks, Jim.
James Dao can be reached at
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A few days later, they crossed into California and were again apprehended by immigration officials, but released on their own recognizance while they In 2024, Faltz was charged with operating a vehicle without a license. The charge was disposed of earlier this year after she paid her court fees, Marlborough District Court records show. According to her family, Faltz's license was suspended without her knowledge during that process; they later learned she missed a court date she didn't know she had. The notification had been sent to a former address. In May, Faltz was arrested by Plymouth police for driving with a suspended license, DHS said in an immigration court hearing last month. ICE took her into custody. Luna after her fifth-grade graduation ceremony in Marlborough. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Luna blows a kiss to her mother during a video call as her grandmother, Bianca, holds the phone. Erin Clark/Globe Staff So Faltz missed watching Luna parade around the school with her classmates at graduation, waving at their families; her daughter hugging her classmates and taking pictures with her teachers. Luna's grandmother, who stood near Luna and her classmates as each name was called, managed to get Faltz on a video call from detention, just in time to see her daughter walk up and get her certificate on the school's lawn. Luna's grandmother held up the phone so her daughter could see. Luna flashed a grin as she realized who was on the screen. As soon as the ceremony was over, Luna rushed over to talk to her mother. ' Te amo, ' Faltz told her daughter on the phone in Portuguese. ' Também te amo, ' Luna responded. Luna dove into her grandmother's arms and buried her head in her neck. All around them, other parents hugged their children. Faltz could only watch her daughter cry. Time on video calls is always limited. Luna lifted her head and blew her mother a kiss before the screen went dark. I n the next week, Luna fell into a familiar pattern. She had constant reminders of her mom; the background of her phone screen was a picture of the letter 'D' traced in the sand on a beach, a heart around it. 'D' for Daiane. On a Thursday, 10 days after Luna's graduation, she noticed her grandmother was behaving secretively, taking all of her phone calls in private. When bedtime wasn't enforced, Luna knew something was afoot. So her grandmother relented and told her the surprise: Her mom was coming home in the early hours of Friday morning. Faltz had been released on bail, for the hefty sum of $8,000. It was nearly 2 a.m., and Luna was wide awake, jittery with anticipation. 'One minute!' her grandmother told her in Portuguese as they glanced at her phone, tracking the progress of the Lyft making its way west from South Station. When the car arrived at their apartment complex, Luna took off running. Daiane Faltz collapses onto the couch with Luna. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Luna massages her mother's hand. Erin Clark/Globe Staff They flew to each other and hugged. Faltz kissed Luna's head, over and over, sobbing with relief. 'I can't believe it,' Faltz said. Faltz had taken five separate buses over more than 48 hours to make it home. Luna could not stop smiling. She held her mother's hand as Faltz described detention: the small cells, the lack of privacy, the inedible food. Luna took out a kit with beads to make her mother a bracelet. Her grandmother served carne ensopada, a Brazilian dish similar to beef stew. Luna braided Faltz's hair, and inspected her mother's new, bulky ankle monitor. Daiane still had a long road ahead of her; she had to fight the deportation case that the US government was taking up against her. But on that night, all that seemed to matter was that mother and daughter were finally together again. On a mattress on the living room floor, they curled up side by side and fell asleep. B ack in Milford, Jhon and Damian's dad has not come home. Asencio Corado is in a federal prison holding ICE detainees in Berlin, New Hampshire. An immigration judge denied his bond. Toledo was devastated. Toledo, who is Catholic, has been going to church more often since her husband's detainment, searching for comfort in God. On a recent Sunday in June, Toledo and the twins walked up to St. Stephen Parish in Framingham for the 12:30 p.m. Mass in Spanish. Jhon balked at going inside. 'We're going to go see the angels,' Toledo told Jhon. 'Come on, for Daddy.' Toledo and Jhon during Mass at St. Stephen Parish. Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff He relented, and trotted ahead to catch up. During the service, Toledo closed her eyes in prayer as Damian sat on her lap, and Jhon nestled in next to her. She listened intently as the priest shared his sermon; in times of loneliness, and profound hardship, he said, parishioners should look to God for solace. The chattering of children were the only sounds breaking through the sermon. Jhon scanned the sanctuary walls, looking at paintings of scenes from the Bible, featuring men with beards and dark hair like his father's. He pointed. 'Daddy,' Jhon called out to them, breaking the hush of the Mass. 'Daddy. Daddy.' Giulia McDonnell Nieto del Rio can be reached at

Guatemalan woman who lives and works on Vermont dairy farm gets immigration reprieve — for now
Guatemalan woman who lives and works on Vermont dairy farm gets immigration reprieve — for now

Boston Globe

time3 days ago

  • Boston Globe

Guatemalan woman who lives and works on Vermont dairy farm gets immigration reprieve — for now

As an organizer translated her remarks, a crowd of about 200 people who had gathered to support her and another undocumented man who had a required check-in Monday cheered and chanted. 'Sí se puede,' Bernardo said. 'And united we stand strong.' According to her attorney, Brett Stokes, ICE agents told her Monday that she was free for now, but that she must return again in 90 days. Advertisement For more than a decade, Bernardo and her partner have lived and worked on an Orleans County dairy farm, milking cows and raising a growing family. They have five children of their own and take care of two of Bernardo's orphaned half-sisters — all between the ages of 5 and 18. Bernardo entered the country without permission in 2014 and was immediately apprehended, according to Stokes. She has had to check in with ICE officials ever since, but those appointments have grown more frequent — and more fraught — since President Donald Trump took office vowing to deport a record number of undocumented people. Bernardo's case has drawn significant attention in Vermont over the years, with dozens of state lawmakers Advertisement 'I consider them more than just employees,' he told the Globe. 'They're part of the family.' Morin and his partner, Lynn Beede, drove Bernardo and two of her children to Monday's meeting. After she addressed the crowd of supporters, Morin said he was filled with 'relief and happiness.' 'I'm glad for her family and for everybody,' he said. 'The outcome was good today, but it's not over yet.' Bernardo was not the only Vermonter facing a nerve-wracking check-in Monday morning. Steven Tendo, a pastor and community organizer who fled his native Uganda in 2018, entered the building alongside Bernardo for a similar appointment with ICE officials. He was also released and told to return in 90 days. Tendo, 40, has said that he faced political persecution and torture in Uganda after a charitable organization he founded tangled with the Ugandan government over its civic education efforts, In 2019, a federal immigration judge denied Tendo's application for asylum, citing inconsistencies around aspects of his story. After spending more than two years in a federal immigration detention center in Texas, he relocated to Vermont, where he lives in Colchester. He now works as a licensed nursing assistant at the University of Vermont Medical Center in Burlington. Advertisement Members of a union that represents him and other hospital workers, Support Staff United, were among the protesters who joined Monday's rally for Tendo and Bernardo. 'It's a huge relief to know that you've left your bed not thinking that you're going to go back,' Tendo said after leaving his appointment. 'And all of the sudden someone tells you, 'Oh, you're OK for the next three months. Come back in October.''

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