The LGBTQA+ BBQ: My Name is Tommy

Tommy Stagliano
Columnist

I'm a pretty average student here at McNeese. I am extremely proficient at procrastinating, sleep deprivation and nuking a variety of foodstuffs in the microwave. After having an existential crisis or two and threatening to withdraw from the university altogether, I have finally discovered my passion in criminal justice and I hope to graduate next fall. I live with my hyperactive toddler in a cozy little apartment and work part time at a restaurant nearby.

I have dreams of changing the world, I strive to help others and generally just try to follow the standard "be kind" social policy.

I am also transgender.

 

Transgender is a relatively broad term, and it basically means that the gender I identify with does not match the gender I was assigned with at birth.

My particular flavor is the female-to-male variety. I started my transition over the summer and began openly living as male in September. My journey really only began pretty recently, but it's been exciting and I've been extremely fortunate to have the overwhelming support of my friends and family.

There are a number of reasons why I chose to come out. Understand that by saying this, I didn't choose to be trans—that's a whole other conversation in and of itself. But by saying this, I mean that I chose to become public with my transgender identity.

Not every trans-identifying person does this. In fact, in certain circumstances it can be downright dangerous. Mainly, I made this decision because I suck at hiding things, and the anxiety of pretending to be someone I wasn't had become impossible to deal with.

But I also knew that in doing so, I would be able to help contribute to the visibility of the trans community.

I enjoy discussing gender identity and related issues. I think it's a conversation that needs to happen more, because not a whole lot of people know much about it or how important it can be to our overall personal identities. It's important to get my story out there, even at the risk of violence or losing my job or home, because it's important to let the world know that people like me not only exist but also try their damnedest to contribute to society, and we deserve equal protection under the law.

It's important to know that a staggering 41 percent of trans people will attempt to commit suicide at some point in their lives, because they feel alone and broken and sick, and it's just wrong for anyone to feel like that. And if my story could save just one person from becoming a part of this insanely high statistic, any scrutiny that I'm forced to endure would all be worth it.

I can take it if it means saving somebody's life. It's important for me to bring trans inequality issues to light, because I'm a part of this wonderfully colorful and diverse community, and we have made so many great strides in recent years, but there's still so much to be done before we can completely overcome the fear, the misunderstanding, and the hatred.

If the Marriage Equality decision this summer has proven anything, though, it's that our love for one another will prevail. And when you think about it, really, what is there to hate? We're all just human.

If you or somebody you know might be questioning, curious or identify as transgender, you are not alone and there are people who can help. We have an incredible LGBTQ+ club here at McNeese called Prism that welcomes all shapes and sizes with open arms, and Louisiana Trans Advocates is a statewide organization that offers a massive network of support and a variety of trans-related resources.