Meeting of the Parliament 22 December 2022
I do not understand being trans, because I am cisgender. Neither do I understand being straight, gay or a man, because I am not those. We do not have to understand how a person comes to realise that they are trans to respect that they know their own mind, their own body and their own truth—and to accept that they are also ordinary, normal people.
I have struggled with the debate, not just because it has been going on for about a quarter of my life—and, recently, has been a source of sleep deprivation—but because we are constantly told that it has been respectful.
Many people have been respectful; many have asked legitimate questions that they genuinely do not know the answer to; and many have contributed to a better understanding of trans lives. However, others have not been respectful. Folk have crossed the line between respectful questions and blatant transphobia—calling trans women “men” or trans men “women”, and denying that anyone can be non-binary. Given that experts have told us that the political discourse in the UK right now is contributing to an increase in trans hate crime, now is not the time for folk to pat themselves on the back for managing to say horrible things in a polite tone.
Max, a non-binary person who I recently met through an LGBT youth organisation, really summed it up for me when they said that, throughout this debate, opinions have been stated as fact and facts dismissed as opinions.
The bill does not affect the Equality Act 2010. A GRC does not grant access to any toilet in the world. If anyone is unsure about that, they should try to remember the last time that they were asked to produce a birth certificate before they entered one.
I, a survivor, have had the words “rape apologist” screamed at me this week. As a survivor, I understand fear; I understand being scared of men; and I can imagine that, if I were not involved in politics, did not have trans friends and heard people in authority say that sex offenders were being given all-access passes to my hospital bed, my toilet and my bedroom, I, too, would be frightened. However, we have to leave that in the past, because it is not a fair representation of what the bill does.
I know how much work the Equalities, Human Rights and Civil Justice Committee has put into the bill, and I was glad to be able to take part in two of its 13 or so evidence sessions. An incredible amount of detail went into producing the bill, which will bring in what is, in the grand scheme of things, a fairly insignificant administrative improvement. The bill affects so few people—the trans population—most of whom would tell us that the change affects an even smaller percentage, because not everyone wants a GRC, and many who want one do not want it to say “male” or “female”.
What has affected more people is the harmful debate that has surrounded this. That has harmed not just trans people but a lot of cisgender women, because people have been told by their MSPs and by celebrities that the bill affects things that it does not affect, and that they should be scared of it.
In addition, young people have taken a fair bit of criticism. This week, in the chamber, I have heard at least three colleagues talk about how people under 25 have “unformed brains”. Young people have been accused of not knowing their own minds and not being able to decide what is right for them. However, young trans people are strong—they have had to be. They may have mental health issues, they may struggle with identity, and they might cry when they hear MSPs debate their future, but they have the strength, the courage and the absolute fierceness to say, in this climate, “I am trans. This is who I am”—and they have probably known it for a very long time.