Rosen Pitman-Wallace is a 22-year-old youth worker and freelance writer, who graduated with a degree in Liberal Arts from King's College London in 2021. They are a transmasculine/non-binary person, particularly interested in gender, queerness and their intersections.
Note: This article discusses transphobia and harassment.
Just before the COVID-19 pandemic, when we were still on campus, I had an experience at my university which really shook me. While I was on the picket line, supporting the lecturers’ strike, a fellow student who opposed the strike started a confrontation with me, asking me about my pronouns. I tried to ignore him and move away, but he continued berating me, telling me I would always be a female as I had female parts. Provoked, I told him that he didn’t know what parts I had, and he escalated again, calling me a transphobic slur which I won’t repeat here. I felt genuinely worried that he might take things a step further, and try to attack me physically, but luckily it didn’t go that way. There were several other students around to witness this, and one did actually try to intervene. However, they focused on arguing with the person harassing me about the reality of non-binary genders, which unfortunately only encouraged him to spew further vitriol and transphobic talking points.
It’s definitely valuable to give marginalised students the space to share their experiences, but when we’re not supported or compensated to do so, it can mean that the burden of ‘solving’ the problem falls on those of us who are being harmed, which is unfair.
Eventually, I was able to shake him off. I was upset, and my fellow students on the picket encouraged me to take the rest of the day off. One also helped me file a report to the university, which I appreciated. Later, the student group supporting the strike talked about what could be done, and decided we would run a training for students and staff about trans allyship and supporting trans students. Running this training was really rewarding, and helped me feel like something productive had come out of the experience. Lots of people, including staff, told me they had found it helpful, which meant a lot. However, especially in retrospect, I can’t help but wish I didn’t have to be the one to do it, and the harassment didn’t have to happen to prompt it. It’s definitely valuable to give marginalised students the space to share their experiences, but when we’re not supported or compensated to do so, it can mean that the burden of ‘solving’ the problem falls on those of us who are being harmed, which is unfair.
As far as I know, nothing ever came of the report I was helped to file. While I wasn’t at uni in person much after that because of the pandemic, I do remember feeling more unsafe there for the few remaining days after that. Honestly, it sucks to know that this experience tainted what turned out to be some of the last few times I was on campus with my classmates before the pandemic sent us all into remote learning purgatory.
Although I don’t blame the other students at the picket for not responding to the situation differently, I do wish someone had been able to intervene in a more useful way. Despite being well-intentioned, arguing with transphobes about the philosophy of gender tends to only provoke them, and make students like myself more unsafe. Unfortunately, attempting to create public ‘debate’ about our existence is a major tactic of anti-trans bigots, so responding to harassment by trying to empirically defend the authenticity of my gender isn’t as helpful as it might seem. I know the training we offered staff and students about trans allyship was helpful, but the project of being a good ally has to be ongoing, and learning to stand up against harassment when it happens is a big part of that. It’s my sincere hope that trans students will one day be able to access education without feeling unsafe at their universities, and cis allies of all kinds have a big role to play in making that happen.
Especially in an increasingly hostile climate, educating yourself about how to be a better ally to trans people, and other marginalised groups, is more important than ever.
My experience shows that even well-meaning interventions can sometimes be misguided, so it’s important to be considered and well-informed. Active Bystander training is a great opportunity to learn how to stand up for someone in a truly useful way, and be prepared by developing these skills before a situation arises where they’re needed. Especially in an increasingly hostile climate, educating yourself about how to be a better ally to trans people, and other marginalised groups, is more important than ever.
Trans Day of Visibility, taking place every March 31st, provides an opportunity to celebrate trans and non-binary people and to raise awareness of the discrimination that the community faces worldwide. It also provides an opportunity for allies to learn more about how they can support trans and non-binary people. If you, or someone you know, requires support, you can contact the following services: