TEDxMileHigh 2017

Read The Script:

I was the CEO of a large religious non-profit, the host of a national television show; I preached in megachurches.  I was a well-educated, successful white American male.  But the mystic Thomas Merton said it’s a difficult thing to climb to the top of the ladder of success only to realize when you get there that your ladder has been leaning against the wrong wall.

I knew from the time I was three or four I was transgender.  In my naiveté, I thought I got to choose.  A gender fairy would arrive and say, “Okay, what’s it gonna be?”  But alas, the gender fairy never came, so I just lived my life.  I didn’t hate being a boy.  I just knew I wasn’t one.  Went to college, got married, had kids, built a career.  But the call toward authenticity has all the subtlety of a smoke alarm, and eventually, there are decisions to be made.

So I came out as transgender and lost all of my jobs.  Never had a bad review, but lost every single job.  In 21 states you can’t be fired for being transgender, but in all 50 you can be fired if you are transgender and work for a religious organization.  Good to know.  It is not easy being a transgender woman.

People sometimes ask, “Do you feel 100 percent like a woman.”  I say, “Well, first, if you’ve met one transgender person you have met exactly one transgender person.  I can’t speak for anyone else, but I do feel 100 percent like a transgender woman.  There are a lot of things a cisgender woman knows I will never know.  That said, I am learning a lot as a female.  And I am also learning a lot about my former gender.  I have experienced life from both sides, and the differences are massive.

Let’s start with the small stuff, like the pockets in women’s jeans – seriously?  What can you fit in there, a paper clip?  And what about the sizing of women’s clothes?  Do the numbers mean anything?  What is a double zero?  And ladies, here’s something you wouldn’t think about.  When men go to the bathroom, they never have to worry about an article of clothing accidentally going into the toilet – not a long sweater, not a belt – nothin’.  Never even a passing thought.

I get my hair cut about half as often now as I used to, but it costs 10 times as much, so I can either go on vacation or get my hair cut.  I can’t do both.

But it’s not just small pockets and expensive haircuts.  I find I am bumping into gender differences all the time. Literally.  I’m walking down the hall and I just bump into it.  No reason, I just bump into it, and I know there’s gonna be a bruise because now that my skin is thinner, I have bruises everywhere.

And the difference in how I experience sexuality is significant – less visual and more holistic, less of a body experience and more of a being experience.

I cannot count the number of times I have said to Cathy, my former wife, “I am so, so, sorry.”  I just didn’t know what I didn’t know.  There is no way a well-educated white male can understand how much the world is tilted in his favor.  It’s all he has ever known.

And there is no way a woman can understand the full import of that because being a female is all she has ever known.  She might have some inkling she has to work twice as hard for half as much, but she has no idea how much harder it is for her than it is for the guy in the Brooks Brothers jacket in the across the hall.  I know, because I was that guy across the hall.  I always thought I was one of the good guys, sensitive to women, supportive of equal rights, egalitarian.  And then came the very first day I flew as a female.

I’ve flown 2.3 million miles with American Airlines, and American was wonderful through my transition.  But that doesn’t mean their passengers were.  It was my very first trip as Paula, flying from Denver to Charlotte.  When I boarded the plane, someone’s stuff was in my seat so I picked it up and put my stuff down.  A guy said, “That’s my stuff.”  I said, “Okay, but it’s my seat, so I’ll be glad to hold your stuff until you find your seat.”  He said, “Lady, that is my seat.”  I said, “Actually it’s not, it’s my seat, 1D, but like I said, I’ll hold your stuff until you find your seat.”  He said, “That is my seat.”  I said, “It’s not, it’s actually my seat…” At which point the guy behind me said, “Lady could you take your effing argument elsewhere so we can get on the plane.”

I was stunned.  That never happened when I was a man.  I’d have said, “Excuse me, I believe that’s my seat.”  And the guy would have immediately looked at his boarding pass and said, “I’m sorry.”  I know because it happened all the time.  The flight attendant took our boarding passes and said to the guy, “Sir, she is in 1D.  You are in 1C.”  He said not one single word.  And of course, next to me in 1F was mister, “Will you take your effing argument elsewhere.”

My friend who works for American came onboard to give the paperwork to the captain and waved goodbye.  When I got to Charlotte I got a call from her.  She said, “Paula, what happened?  You were as white as a sheet!”  I told her and her words were simple and profound.  “Welcome to the world of women.”

Now the truth is I will not live long enough to lose my male privilege.  I brought it with me.  But that doesn’t mean my power is not diminishing.  Let me tell you about another thing I’ve observed.  Apparently, since I became a woman, I have become stupid.  Yeah, the absence of testosterone and arrival of estrogen has caused me to lose the brain cells necessarily to be a fully functioning adult human.  Either that, or I’m as smart as I always was, it’s just that now I am constantly being subjected to mansplaining…

I was in my local Denver bike shop when a summer employee asked if he could help.  I asked if the frame of an older Gary Fisher mountain bike could flex enough to make the rear break rub.  The guy said, “Well, disc brakes have to be adjusted.  I said,  “I know that.  In fact, I do my own adjustments.”  He said, “Well, the rotor is probably bent.”  I told him the rotor was not bent.  I know a bent rotor.  He said, “Well ma’am, what do you want me to do?”  I said, “You could answer my question?”

Finally Kyle, the manager, stepped in – he’s such a sweetheart – and said, “Actually, you might be right.  Do you only get a chirp from that brake when you are pulling hard uphill?”  I said, “Yeah, exactly.”  He said, “Probably frame fatigue.”  I wanted to fall to my knees and call Kyle blessed, because finally, someone was taking me seriously.

This happens all the time now.  I have to go three or four rounds with someone before I get a direct answer.  And here’s the deeper issue.  The more I am treated as if I don’t know what I’m talking about, the more I begin to question whether or not I do, in fact, know what I am talking about.  I understand a woman’s tendency to doubt her self.  Did you ever notice when a woman is in a meeting with a group of men, and the woman knows she is right; she apologizes for it?  “I’m sorry, but it looks like these numbers don’t add up.”  You don’t have to apologize for being right.

I asked my good friend Jen what women are looking for from men.  She said women want men who will honor the uniqueness of women and realize our gifting is not lesser, it’s just different, it’s more comprehensive and it’s essential.  And the truth is there are a lot of men who do honor women, like my fellow pastor, Mark, who draws out my best strengths and watches me lead.  We need more men who will empower women. 

I’m sure will keep bumping into these gender differences.  But for now, let me leave you with this…

To the women, I offer thanks.  I often feel like an interloper, a late arrival to the serious work of womanhood.  You have shown me grace, and great mercy.  I want you to know you are far more capable than you realize, more powerful than you know, and you reflect the best parts of what it means to be fully human.

And to the men who are feeling more than a little uncomfortable, I do understand.  I never thought I had privilege, but I did.  And so do you.  So what can you do?  You can believe us when we tell you we might have equality, but not equity.  It is not a level playing field and never has been.  And you can be a part of the solution, elevating us to equal footing, because you have that power.

And to all of us, you know who I think about a lot?  My brown-skinned daughter and my brown-skinned daughter-in-law.  What do they know that I am clueless about?  What do any of us really know about the shoes in which we have never walked?

It is hard being a woman.  And it is really hard being a transgender woman.  And as a man, I just didn’t know what I didn’t know.  Would I do it all again?  Of course I would, because the authentic life is worth living.

For 45 years my father was a fundamentalist pastor.  My mother was even more conservative.  When I transitioned, my parents rejected me.  I thought I would never see them again.  But this past January I called my father on his birthday.  He took my call and we had a nice conversation. A couple of months later I asked if I could visit and to my surprise they said yes.

Last spring I had a delightfully redemptive three-hour visit with my parents.  (I’ve had two visits since.)  Toward the end of the conversation, my father said a number of precious things.  As I stood to go my father said, “Paula,” He called me Paula.  “Paula, I do not understand this, but I am willing to try.  My father is 93 years old, and he is willing to try.  What more could I ask?  I hugged him so tightly.

One man, giving up his power, because he knew what he knew, that he loved his child, and he would do whatever it takes to understand the journey of another.

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