The first transgender member of Congress, a bathroom ban and much angst

After two weeks of unbridled elation over the election of Delaware’s Sarah McBride, set to become the first transgender member of Congress, the country’s trans community is caught up in a swirl of angst, anger and fear.

For many people, it’s not just because of Rep. Nancy Mace, the South Carolina Republican who days ago introduced a resolution to ban transgender individuals in the nation’s Capitol from using bathrooms that align with their gender identity. And it’s about more than House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., and his quick support of Mace’s effort.

What’s especially distressing, some trans women and men said Thursday, is McBride’s announcement that she will “follow the rules … even if I disagree with them.” Acquiescing to such blatant disrespect, they worry, is a setback that could put their entire community at greater risk.

“Every trans person has experienced this kind of discrimination when they are just trying to do their jobs and live their lives,” said Delphine Luneau, a spokesperson for the Human Rights Campaign who is herself transgender. She thinks McBride was put in “an impossible situation,” though one to which she and others can relate. “It’s very reflective of the way transgender people are still dehumanized.”

The whiplash of emotions follows several years of increasing violence against transgender Americans and attempts by red-state legislatures to restrict gender transition care or block trans girls from participating in sports. In Congress, Republicans have long pushed anti-trans bills, and the party’s control of both the House and Senate come January has the trans community bracing for more attacks on their rights.

Mace defended her action this week as “standing up for women, protecting their spaces.” Johnson’s office declined to explain how the new rule would be enforced.

“I feel really torn,” said Lizette Trujillo, who lives in Arizona and has a transgender son. “We’re proud of Sarah, and my son has known her since he was 9. But I think her decision has much broader implications … about if it’s safe for transgender people to exist in public spaces. I feel really scared.”

In a statement Thursday, McBride called the resolution “a distraction meant to cause division and divert attention away from the real challenges facing Americans.” Yet the 34-year-old Democrat, whose historic campaign stressed that she wasn’t running “on my identity,” alluded to a special responsibility.

Her new position will mean fighting for her LGBTQ constituents, she said, “and not allowing a right-wing culture war machine to turn me into the issue. I am continuing to work to guarantee that the Capitol complex is safe for all staff and interns and visitors. I can deal with this. Other people shouldn’t have to.”

Minnesota state Rep. Leigh Finke (D) is also a transgender elected official. She said that while she respects McBride and stands by her, she understands why others are disappointed.

“But it’s not the time to go against each other,” Finke added. “Right now, we are in a 10-alarm emergency for trans people. I still won’t get into an elevator with some of my fellow lawmakers who don’t want me to exist. Transpeople and immigrants are considered useful scapegoats right now for the economy or any issue, and with a majority Republican rule, there are no guard rails.”

Mace only bore down harder on Wednesday, filing a bill to extend the bathroom ban to buildings “on all federal property everywhere.” She announced it in a social media post that read like a sharp, direct challenge to her critics. Human Rights Campaign, which advocates for the LGBTQ community, responded by blasting her prohibition as “cruel and discriminatory.”

Ash Orr, a transgender organizer in West Virginia, wants McBride to fight back.

“She holds a position of immense power and privilege. She should be using that power to defend and protect her community, not promoting messaging that suggests trans people should fall in line,” he said. “I will not comply with a bathroom ban – whether in the Capitol, federal buildings or anywhere else – and I encourage others to refuse compliance as well.”

Alejandra Caraballo, a transgender rights activist and civil rights attorney in Massachusetts, had a similar reaction – even as she acknowledged the “prejudicial circumstances” that will greet McBride when she takes her oath of office in January.

“I think trans Americans are looking for leaders who will stand up amidst trying times, and she was widely perceived as rolling over,” Caraballo said. “Personally, I would have preferred to see her refuse to comply.”

Online, transgender people and their advocates shared their heartache.

“I feel like I just got pulled right under the wheels of the bus by someone I thought was trying to pull me out,” one transgender woman in Maryland told The Advocate, which covers LGBTQ issues.

A few voices suggested that McBride’s measured reaction to what they consider overt bullying was a politically savvy way to avoid playing into GOP strategy and instead concentrate on her constituents. California author and historian Susan Stryker, whose lengthy academic career was centered on gender and women’s studies, isn’t convinced it succeeded.

The new bathroom ban in Congress is a definite step backward, she said Thursday, one that is antithetical “to the principles of representative democracy. And it is but the spear tip of a deeper and broader push that affects trans staffers, interns, lobbyists, constituents and members of the public who have legitimate business in the Capitol.”

Stryker said it was gratifying that Delaware voters had looked past the “manufactured controversy over trans existence” to send McBride to Congress.

“That’s progress, and more Americans should follow their lead.”