Abstract
The purpose of this study was to present a narrative account of one gender-variant music student and his experiences as a music education major at a small private college. The question guiding this study was as follows: In what ways can one transgender music education student’s lived experiences and identity development inform discourse in the music education community? A semistructured interview protocol was used, with approximately 14 weekly one-on-one meetings with the student. The student was allowed to share his perspectives as a transgender student throughout public school and leading to his decision to major in music education via the interview protocol. Data were coded based on recurring patterns that emerged from the interviews and participant-generated artifacts. Member checks and a peer examiner were used to ensure faithful interpretation of the data. The participant’s family interaction influenced his transgender identity development, his internalized transphobia gave way to self-acceptance, and he eventually took an active role in advocating for fellow transgender individuals. Implications for music teacher preparation programs and professional development are discussed, and future directions for research are recommended.
Conflicting social attitudes in the United States regarding the rights of transgender individuals have recently been illuminated by the passage of laws targeting the LGBT community in general and transgender people specifically. More than 20 states have considered or passed legislation concerning transgender people, ranging from prohibiting the use of state funds for hormone replacement therapy to requiring transgender individuals to use restroom facilities in accordance with their sex assigned at birth (e.g., House Bill 2, 2016; House Bill 4061, 2016). Additionally, with the recent Obama administration directive allowing transgender students to use the restrooms that match their gender identity, and the subsequent reversal of that policy by the Trump administration, a national conversation has emerged regarding the rights of transgender students in public schools (Montgomery & Blinder, 2016; Peters, Becker, & Davis, 2017). As such, it appears that school personnel should be provided with resources to support their transgender students.
The issues faced by the transgender community have been well documented in the research literature. For example, transgender individuals are more likely than cisgender (i.e., individuals whose gender identity matches their biological sex) individuals to experience isolation and rejection from family and friends (Pusch, 2005), which can often lead to additional psychological and economic challenges including harassment, violence, depression, anxiety, substance abuse, self-harm, and suicide (Dean, 2000). In addition to the struggles transgender individuals can face at home, they may have to contend with unsafe school environments where they are targets of harassment by peers, teachers, and other school staff members (Kosciw, Greytak, Bartklewicz, Boesen, & Palmer, 2012). Transgender students also are more likely to have higher dropout rates, lower income, and higher incidents of suicide than their cisgender counterparts (Grant et al., 2011).
Researchers have detailed instances of institutional discrimination and transphobia within public schools. To address this discrimination, researchers and advocacy groups have made calls for contributions to the research literature regarding the education and training of educators on the physical and mental well-being of transgender students (Rankin, 2003; Smith, 2014; C. Taylor & Peter, 2011). Transgender students on college campuses have reported feeling marginalized, especially if their specific needs are not being met (Beemyn, 2005). These needs may include navigating intimate relationships; developing their gender identity before, during, and after transitioning; coming out to family, friends, and teachers; feeling safe and comfortable in residence halls and restrooms; and accessing trans-friendly health care services (Beemyn, Curtis, Davis, & Tubbs, 2005; Ettner & Brown, 1999; Israel & Tarver, 1997; McKinney, 2005; Xavier, 2000).
Despite the many challenges faced by transgender individuals, and transgender students specifically, there has been documented progress regarding student support, student success, and student acceptance. For example, those schools with gay-straight alliances, inclusive curricular resources, and supportive school personnel have evidenced fewer instances of pejorative terms related to LGBT persons, with LGBT students more likely to feel safe in school, to feel more connected to their school community, and to experience lower levels of victimization. The most recent Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network National School Climate Survey (Kosciw, Greytak, Giga, Villenas, & Danischewski, 2016) revealed that the aforementioned LGBT-related supports in school were related to a more accepting student body. Kosciw and colleagues (2016) also proposed that, increases in supports may be related to changes in student acceptance. In our analysis over time, we have also seen that student intervention regarding anti-LGBT remarks has increased. . . . It may be that increased student intervention is also, in part, related to increased positive attitudes toward LGBT people among the student population. (p. 120)
This finding from the 2015 National School Climate Survey represents a statistically significant increase in positive attitudes toward LGBT individuals since 2011.
Even with the progress being made to create more inclusive campuses, “well-meaning student affairs professionals and multiculturally-minded instructors often lack basic knowledge about transgender issues, resulting in policies and practices that continue the marginalization of gender variant individuals” (Beemyn, 2003, p. 41). In addition to trans-friendly housing options, some campuses have established policies that allow transgender students the opportunity to change their names and gender markers on official school documents and student information systems (e.g., class rosters, student IDs). Allowing transgender students to change their names may prevent them from being placed in uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situations if they are forced to explain why their preferred name differs from their birth name, especially when seeking employment, for which applicants are often required to submit college transcripts (Beemyn, 2005).
Although topics of gender and sexual identity have not been addressed as much as other diversity topics in music education (Sweet & Paparo, 2010), music education researchers and practitioners have been active in providing support for LGBT students and teachers and providing strategies for creating inclusive classrooms. LGBT researchers in music education have investigated a number of themes in the field including how lesbian/gay music teachers negotiate their identities (Paparo & Sweet, 2014), privileges enjoyed by heterosexual music teachers (Bergonzi, 2009), the internal conflict LGBT teachers face between coming out and practicing heteronormativity (Natale-Abramo, 2010; Palkki, 2015), and providing support for LGBT students and teachers (Garrett, 2012). There also has been a call for music teacher education programs to make transfers from disability inclusion and multicultural education curricula and use those strategies as a means to better understand and support LGBT students (Garrett, 2012). Specifically, researchers have suggested that teacher educators train preservice music teachers in LGBT issues, antiharassment, allyship, and inclusive language (Palkki, 2015; D. M. Taylor, 2011).
Transgender research in music education is somewhat scant thus far, but it is a burgeoning field. Although much of the existing transgender research in higher education has called upon student affairs professionals to be culturally competent (e.g., King & Howard-Hamilton, 2000; McKinney, 2005), researchers have called for faculty and staff to be educated about transgender issues in education. McKinney (2005) found that both the undergraduate and graduate transgender students he surveyed reported the staff and faculty at their institutions “lacked knowledge about transgender issues. Many of the responses to this question were quite negative, suggesting that the problem is widespread and needs to be addressed comprehensively” (p. 72). Within music education specifically, researchers have suggested non-trans faculty and staff educate themselves about challenges faced by transgender students (Bartolome, 2016; Nichols, 2013; Silveira & Goff, 2016), especially since transgender students are more likely to perceive hostile campus environments than their straight and LGB counterparts (Rankin, 2003; Rankin, Weber, Blumenfeld, & Frazer, 2010; Tetreault, Fette, Meidlinger, & Hope, 2013). Despite the challenges that transgender students face, their experiences are not monolithic, as Palkki (2016) noted in his case study of three transgender choral students. He stated, “It is important to state yet again that trans people are not monolithic. Every trans person comes from a different family, varying geographic/socioeconomic/cultural situations, and different types of educational and religious traditions” (p. 285). As such, it is incumbent upon music researchers to continue to investigate multiple perspectives as they relate to transgender music students and teachers.
In addition to understanding stakeholders’ attitudes toward transgender students, it is imperative to ask transgender students to share their experiences and provide recommendations to help improve schools. As Palkki (2016) suggested, [transgender research should be] shared via professional associations’ (i.e., NAfME, ACDA) websites, publications, and email communications. . . . Further exploration of the experiences of trans students, and non-binary and/or gender fluid students may help the trans community seem less monolithic to choral educators (pp. 297, 307)
and educators in general. Although researchers have provided recommendations for public school personnel to support transgender students (e.g., Sausa, 2005; Sherouse, n.d.), few have investigated the perspectives of college students, specifically music education students (e.g., Bartolome, 2016). Given that college instructors directly and significantly can affect LGBT students’ perceptions of campus climate (Tetreault et al., 2013), it seems warranted to explore ways in which college professors can support their transgender students. Therefore, the question guiding this study was as follows: In what ways can one transgender music education student’s lived experiences and identity development inform discourse in the music education community?
Method
This study was conducted on the campus of a small, private liberal arts college in the northeastern United States. In the fall 2015 semester, I recruited the student participant for this study after he approached me and identified himself as transgender. The student, Joseph (a pseudonym), expressed an interest in participating in the study to share his struggles transitioning from female to male with music teacher educators as a means of providing support for other transgender music students. At the time of data collection, Joseph was in midtransition. Joseph was 23 years old and was enrolled as a sophomore music education major at the college with percussion as his principal instrument. Despite sophomore standing, he was in his first year at the college after having transferred from a community college on the West Coast. Joseph grew up in Southern California as an only child, came from an upper-middle-class white family, and was involved with music at an early age. In addition to studying piano beginning at age 6, Joseph began trumpet instruction at age 10 in public schools before switching to horn in middle school and eventually percussion in high school.
Procedure
After I received approval from the college’s institutional review board, I began collecting data in January 2016 and continued until June 2016. I met with Joseph every week for approximately 1 hour each meeting. The first interview began with my asking Joseph to provide some autobiographical information about himself and his life. Topics of discussion for these interviews included challenges Joseph faced coming out first as a lesbian and then transitioning from female to male, harassment and bullying, support from LGBT allies, identity development, his changing relationship with his family, and recommendations for music teacher educators about how to provide support structures for transgender students. Joseph made the decision to hold the weekly meetings in my office because he wanted privacy and felt comfortable there. I audio recorded each of the 15 weekly meetings and subsequently transcribed them. I used member checking by having Joseph review each of the transcripts to ensure faithful representation of the data (Bloor, 1978; Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Additionally, I recorded field notes during our conversations as a means to interpret his responses, discover recurring themes, and spur additional questions for Joseph (S. J. Taylor, Bogdan, & DeVault, 2016). Throughout the study, I encouraged Joseph to keep a journal to reflect on our conversations and document his daily interactions that were germane to the study. Throughout the course of the 15-week data collection phase, Joseph shared six journal entries with me. These entries included descriptions of interactions with peers and faculty, reactions to related readings in his courses, and suggestions for allies. There were also a number of occasions where Joseph shared meaningful and impactful “artifacts” from his life. Artifacts included correspondences with family and friends, books and articles, and course assignments, to name a few examples. These artifacts and journal entries often served as departure points and probing mechanisms for our discussions (S. J. Taylor et al., 2016). All artifacts and journal entries were either photographed or shared digitally (e.g., pdf, doc, ppt).
Data Analysis
While this was not a phenomenological study in the strictest sense, I used phenomenological techniques as I attempted to uncover the essence of Joseph’s experiences with interviews that focused on the deep, lived meanings that events had for him and thus guided my interactions with him (Marshall & Rossman, 2006). I modeled my data analysis process after Giorgi and Giorgi (2008). This process included interviewing the participant, transcribing and reading the data, locating and interpreting key phrases/statements that speak directly to the phenomenon, transforming those key phrases/statements that highlight the participant’s lived experiences, and finally describing the structure of the experience. Sources of data for the present study included interview transcripts, journal entries, and participant-generated artifacts. As suggested by Creswell and Miller (2000), trustworthiness and verisimilitude were addressed through triangulation of data, member checks, and peer examination. This collaborative mode of research uses member checking by including the participant in all phases from conceptualization to the writing of the report (Merriam, 2009; Reason & Rowan, 1981). I used in vivo coding to “prioritize and honor the participant’s voice” (Saldaña, 2016, p. 106) and values coding to “reflect [the] participant’s values, attitudes, and beliefs, representing [his] perspectives or worldview” (Saldaña, 2016, p. 131).
Data were coded using procedures outlined by Saldaña (2016). This process included looking for repetitive, regular, or consistent occurrences of data, followed by synthesizing codes into subsuming categories. As recommended by Ezzy (2002), I coded as I transcribed the interview data while maintaining a reflective journal, and I addressed the verisimilitude of my coding with Joseph. Throughout the coding process, I regularly asked Joseph if I was accurately interpreting and highlighting his intent. There was only one disagreement in coding. Joseph reframed my code “guilt” as “internalized transphobia.” Before, during, and after the coding process, I recorded analytic memos to document my reflection on the generation of codes. Saldaña (2016) describes analytic memos as being “somewhat comparable to researcher journal entries or blogs—a place to ‘dump your brain’ about the participants, phenomenon, or process under investigation by thinking and thus writing and thus thinking even more about them” (p. 44).
Theoretical Framework
Using precedence in previous research investigating the experiences of transgender individuals, the data were viewed through Bilodeau’s (2005) transgender lifespan model. In studying transgender identity development of college students, Bilodeau noted that participants described their gender identities reflecting six processes within a sociocultural and lifespan context. He contended that identity development occurs with “the simultaneous development of a person’s self-concept, relationships with family, and connections to peer groups and communities” (p. 32). In a study of LGBT student leaders, Renn and Bilodeau (2005) found a similar developmental model. An overview of Bilodeau’s (2005) model of transgender identity development can be found in Table 1. As themes emerged in the present study, I noticed them as being akin to Bilodeau’s model; thus, his model was used as the theoretical framework for the present study.
Bilodeau’s (2005) Model of Transgender Development.
Findings
Six findings were revealed during and after coding:
After coming out as transgender, Joseph’s relationship with his family evolved over time from their initial resistance to their muted acceptance.
Joseph gradually exited a homosexual identity and developed a transgender identity.
Feelings of internalized transphobia gave way to acceptance of self and combating externalized transphobia.
Joseph’s membership in the transgender community encouraged him to seek out resources both within and outside of the School of Music and to identify music-specific challenges and proposed solutions.
Development of Joseph’s transgender identity led to his taking an active role in educating his peers at the college and taking part in social action.
Joseph’s shared experiences reminded me of existing inequality, illuminated my own personal and professional blind spots, and allowed me to challenge the status quo.
Finding 1: After Coming Out as Transgender, Joseph’s Relationship With His Family Evolved Over Time From Their Initial Resistance to Their Muted Acceptance
Throughout the course of the study, Joseph frequently made mention of the struggles he faced first coming out as a lesbian and later as a transgender male. He felt tremendous pressure from his parents to take other family members’ feelings into account rather than expressing his own gender identity. Joseph’s parents specifically asked him, “Don’t tell either of your grandmas,” with his father’s specifically stating, “You’ll give her [your grandmother] a heart attack” (Joseph interview, March 29, 2016). Suppressing his identity for some family members while coming out to others was a source of tension for Joseph. Bilodeau’s (2005) first step in his lifespan model is affirming oneself as gender variant through coming out to others. In this case, Joseph’s affirmation was stifled through pressure from his parents to withhold his identity from some family members. Joseph mentioned a genuine fear of being disowned by his parents as they pressured him to suppress his gender identity, misgendered him, and continued to address him by his birth name. Coming out as a transgender male was perceived as more difficult for his family to accept than coming out as a lesbian 6 years earlier. Joseph shared his continuing frustration with his family’s resistance to acknowledging his new gender identity: “You’re not losing your daughter; you’re gaining your son who is much happier than your daughter ever was. Start to get on board. . . . And when I first came out to them, I honestly thought I was going to be disowned” (Joseph interview, February 9, 2016).
Regarding his identity development, Joseph provided commentary on how exiting a lesbian identity and entering a straight male identity illuminated his “enjoying” privilege and in some ways helped identify what would have traditionally been blind spots for straight, white males. Specifically, he said, [It’s] weird for me to have the passing privilege of a white male who is middle class heterosexual, and going to college . . . all of this stuff. All of that privilege, but to also have this huge part of my identity hidden from most people. Which also in itself is a privilege, but at the same time it’s like, this is great. . . . Ninety percent of the time I can go about living my life the way I want to. I’m not like, “Yes, give me male privilege.” It’s just I feel better about myself. (Joseph interview, March 29, 2016)
In addition to his privilege as a straight, white male, he also mentioned the privilege of being able to pass and not have anyone question it. This, too, was a source of conflict with Joseph as he observed instances of misogyny and sexism in his interactions with others in his new identity. One example Joseph shared was an interaction he had with an Uber driver: “One of my Uber drivers in Florida was like, ‘Ugh, women don’t listen.’ And I’m like, this is awkward. You know stuff like that” (Joseph interview, March 29, 2016). Another instance occurred in the presence of both Joseph and his girlfriend: It was just after a[n ensemble] concert, and [my girlfriend] and I were hanging out after, and [student’s name] . . . comes up and starts talking to me, and completely ignores her. Like completely! And he was asking me all this stuff, and having a conversation with him, and [my girlfriend] would like try to chime in and enter the conversation, and he would just ignore her. . . . And he went away, and I was like that was weird. And [my girlfriend] was like, “That is what male privilege is . . . him completely leaving me out of the conversation even though I’m sitting right there and part of the same group.” I was like, that was really uncomfortable. (Joseph interview, March 29, 2016)
Joseph mentioned that incidents like the ones above helped remind him of existing blind spots in others and helped prevent them from forming in himself, saying, “I’m still trying to get used to it [male privilege]. I don’t want to get used to it because that would just make me just compliant” (Joseph interview, March 29, 2016).
Support for Joseph’s transition initially came from the youngest of his family members, and then gradually spread through his immediate and extended family. During one of our interviews, Joseph shared an artifact from his life given to him after he came out as transgender. It was from his 2015 Thanksgiving dinner with his extended family. His young cousin made a place card for Joseph (see Supplemental Figure S1 in the online version of the article) using his new name, despite other family members’ addressing him by his birth name and misgendering him. Over time, however, Joseph’s mother eventually began to accept his gender identity by using his preferred name, pronouns, and by accompanying him when he had top surgery (i.e., bilateral mastectomy). For example, Joseph saved a greeting card and envelope he received from his mother because it was the first time that she addressed him as “Joseph” rather than his birth name (see Supplemental Figure S2 in the online version of the article).
Finding 2: Joseph Gradually Exited a Homosexual Identity and Developed a Transgender Identity
Joseph initially identified as a lesbian, which allowed him to express his masculinity, but he came to realize that jettisoning his homosexual identity allowed him to fully develop his identity as a transgender male. This transition initially caused worry and anxiety as Joseph felt he would permanently lose parts of his previous identity: I realized that I was trans, and I was in the process of coming out, but one of my biggest things about coming out as trans was like, I’m no longer visibly queer. (Joseph interview, April 22, 2016) That was actually something that I feared. Not feared becoming a boring white guy, but losing this part of my identity as a lesbian. . . . But now it’s like I don’t even care. I don’t miss it at all, which is funny because it’s more reaffirming. (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016)
In a number of our interviews, Joseph mentioned that fear of losing his lesbian identity inhibited his developing his transgender identity. This fear of transitioning lasted 3 years before it eventually subsided and gave way to self-acceptance and affirmation of himself as a transgender male: You’re still a part of the LGBT/queer community, but that [lesbian identity] is erased. If I go out with my girlfriend now, [people are] just like, oh a cute young couple. . . . They don’t think, Wow, they’re both a part of the LGBT community, you know. Sometimes it still kind of bugs me. But the benefits of all that other stuff that came with losing that [identity as a lesbian], it’s like . . . that’s nothing. (Joseph interview, April 22, 2016)
Identity construction was a recurring theme in our interviews. Joseph discussed his internal struggle in recognizing being transgender as part of his identity and being “stealth” and having the “passing” privilege as a male but also having a large part of his identity hidden from most people. He also mentioned the internal conflict he had identifying as gender variant. He said, The best days that I have are the days that I forget that I’m trans. . . . And it’s not to say that I want to forget that I’m trans entirely, because it’s a huge part of my identity. And it’s part of how I became the person that I am. . . . I struggled so much with this. (Joseph interview, March 14, 2016)
Additionally, Joseph “didn’t accept the fact that [he] was transgender for a long time” (Joseph interview, February 23, 2016); he often had trouble advocating for himself and initially found it “weird” to ask people to address him by his preferred pronouns/name.
Joseph also found it frustrating when his peers, friends, and teachers tried to be supportive but inadvertently erased a part of his identity: A lot of people say, Well it doesn’t matter that you’re black. It doesn’t matter that you’re gay. It doesn’t matter that you’re trans. And it’s like, yeah well I see where you’re coming from, and I see that you’re trying to say something nice, but you really just erased a huge part of my identity. And the reason I am this way, or the reason I made this music, or the reason I came to this school, or the reason I act this way, or the reason we’re even having this conversation is because of this [being transgender]. . . . It is a direct result of this huge part of my identity, and you just said, yeah, well that doesn’t matter because you’re just a good person. (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016)
Finding 3: Feelings of Internalized Transphobia Gave Way to Acceptance of Self and Combating Externalized Transphobia
Joseph’s internalized transphobia began with his upbringing, and trying to fit in with what was expected of a young girl. As a result, he repressed his identity as a male, which served as a barrier to accepting himself, specifically mentioning, “Repression is a big theme in my self-journey and my story” (Joseph interview, January 26, 2016). Although his parents taught him to repress his identity, Joseph eventually realized that his repression was related to his difficulty in being an advocate for himself and in wanting people to respect who he is, not who he was: I had a lot of patience with people who didn’t treat me a certain way or wouldn’t respect my pronouns or my name or whatever. . . . So I’m sitting back here thinking, Oh wow they [people who respect pronouns] did a really good job. That’s so progressive, and now I’m trying to get away from that. . . . [My parents] raised me a certain way, and they put these ideas in my head that [being trans] was wrong, or it was weird, or it was strange, and that’s why I feel like that. . . . But that’s the reason I had all these problems with sticking up for myself, because I felt like internalized transphobia. (Joseph interview, March 14, 2016)
Joseph shared that he was in a number of psychologically and physically abusive relationships and gave parts of himself away to others for a sense of belonging. By giving away parts of himself, he felt he was expressing an identity of someone he was not. Joseph related these experiences to The Giving Tree (see Supplemental Figure S3 in the online version of the article), an artifact that he shared with me. He identified as “the tree” in his abusive relationships, saying, “I gave away a lot of myself to [my girlfriend] and to other people. . . . You inevitably lose a lot of yourself. . . . You can’t give so much of yourself away to other people” (Joseph interview, February 9, 2016).
As Joseph began to accept his transgender identity, he chose to share his transition with his extended family to help them understand what it meant to him to be a transgender male. Joseph chose to wait until he had completed his transition before he sent a letter to his extended family. In this letter, he outlined his internal struggle with his identity construction and his ultimately accepting his new identity: I know I have been distant throughout the past several months and I have missed you all terribly. You are all very important to me and I love you dearly. I want you to know that my absence from and avoidance of family gatherings was not without sorrow on my part, and I think it’s time that you understand my reasoning. . . . I am transgender and am currently transitioning from female to male. I’ve always been “boyish,” even in early childhood. However, this is not a question of how I dress and present myself. This is who I am as a person. . . . I’ve spent many years struggling with my gender identity. Prior to transition, I was lost, depressed, terrified, and exhausted from dealing with the stress of hiding who I really am. But now that I have accepted who I am and have taken steps toward transition, I feel much more content with my life. . . . I would appreciate it if you used my chosen name of [Joseph] and referred to me with male pronouns (he/him/his). . . . I know that this may take some time for all of you to process and accept. When you do, don’t be afraid to reach out to me if you have questions or want to reconnect. (Excerpt from Joseph’s letter to his family, June 24, 2016)
Finding 4: Joseph’s Membership in the Transgender Community Encouraged Him to Seek Out Resources Both Within and Outside of the School of Music and to Identify Music-Specific Challenges and Proposed Solutions
Joseph identified three areas of frustration where he suggested that music faculty could be more supportive of gender nonconforming students: preferred name/gender marker, attire, and class-specific challenges. A persistent topic of discussion was Joseph’s frustration and disappointment in the School of Music faculty in misgendering him and using his birth name. There were recurring blind spots for cisgender faculty members, especially when reading from the class roster and inadvertently outing Joseph, stating, Like before it was kind of ok. . . . I mean it wasn’t ok, but I didn’t have as big of a problem with it because I was still really androgynous. . . . But now it’s like, Great. You just outed me! Stop it! (Joseph interview, March 24, 2016)
He also suggested that faculty familiarize themselves with collegewide policies designed to protect students’ identity: Teaching . . . that’s [the LGBT Center director’s] job. And it is everyone else’s job to read those [policy emails] and understand how it works. But apparently not everybody in the music school or in the school in general is reading these things and educating themselves on it. (Joseph interview, March 24, 2016)
Joseph also discussed gendered concert attire in the School of Music. He mentioned the tacit expectation that, boys wear tuxes, and the girls wear a dress, or all black. Or especially in choir, if you’re female you’ve got to wear this stupid smock, and it’s the most hideous thing you’ve ever seen in your life. . . . We’re all adults. . . . You know you shouldn’t have to ask to not wear something that makes you feel uncomfortable. (Joseph interview, April 26, 2016)
With hormone replacement therapy, Joseph struggled not only with changes in his appearance but also with changes in his voice. As his voice deepened, Joseph faced challenges in his sight-singing classes; however, he specifically mentioned accommodations made by his teacher by changing keys where it would best fit his voice. While the singing voice has the potential to be gendered—“women” for soprano and alto, and “men” for tenor and bass—Joseph shared one story of how his professors made voice parts less gendered: I was in choir in community college, and it’s always when you want to hear the high voices you say, “Come on ladies, let’s sing that part. Let’s hear the men now.” Like especially before my voice dropped they’d be like, “Ok let’s hear the woman.” I know what you mean, but I’m not a woman. This feels like [expletive]. . . . But when I came out at the beginning of the semester . . . I noticed that instead of saying, Ok ladies, or Ok guys, [my professors are saying,] I want to hear the high voices now, and I want to hear the low voices. I’m like, Oh that’s really cool. (Joseph interview, April 26, 2016)
Prior to his top surgery, Joseph wore a binder (medical compression vest) daily to flatten his chest. Wearing the binder, however, caused breathing troubles that were amplified in his secondary instrument classes, primarily flute and tuba: It’s worse because I have a binder, but I don’t think I’ve talked to a single person who has taken class flute and/or class tuba who didn’t come out of there like [dizzy]. I don’t have enough oxygen in my brain. Just encouraging proper breath where breath should come from. Because it’s my understanding—as someone who has played horn and taken brass secondaries and flute—that there is a place that you should be breathing from your diaphragm. . . . It should be like from your stomach, not [breathes shallow and raises shoulders]. If your student is like really breathing from up here then . . . just stressing the importance of breathing healthily, especially for someone who is wearing a medical compression vest. (Joseph interview, February 23, 2016)
Finding 5: Development of Joseph’s Transgender Identity Led to His Taking an Active Role in Educating His Peers at the College and Taking Part in Social Action
In response to peers asking Joseph inappropriate questions, he sought to educate them regarding how to converse with and be supportive of transgender individuals. One common inappropriate question that is often asked of transgender individuals is, “What was your ‘old’ name?” Joseph’s response to this question is often, “No, you don’t need to know my old name. You need to know my name” (Joseph interview, March 24, 2016). By educating others, Joseph took a more active role in advocating for himself. He reflected on his cognitive dissonance in saying, I’m not very good at advocating for myself when it comes to correcting people. I was pretty much raised to be a polite little girl, which people should be polite, but if someone is doing something that’s bothering them, we should be able to stand up and say, No that bothers me. Please stop doing it. (Joseph interview, February 23, 2016)
Joseph also found that by modeling advocacy for himself, his classmates advocated for him and for others in the transgender community. When one of Joseph’s professors continued to misgender him, his peers also took an active role in advocating for him: And it’s gotten to the point where we’re in [major instrument] ensemble and [my professor will] say, Oh “she” did this. And the other six people that are in that select group are like, “He.” I’m just like, thanks guys! I’m glad that you’re here. (Joseph interview, February 23, 2016)
Joseph’s experience with music teacher support was primarily in the form of pedagogy and content knowledge and not necessarily with his struggles of identity: All of my teacher support never left the realm of academia or music class. I never had anybody outwardly supporting me teacher-wise I think. I never felt supported in that realm, or never felt supported enough to express myself comfortably. . . . We just didn’t talk about that stuff. Music is so wrapped up in people’s identities, I don’t understand why we can’t have conversations about it. (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016)
Despite not feeling outwardly supported by his music teachers, Joseph did provide suggestions about how to be an ally in music education. He specifically mentioned discussion within the music education community and asking allies to stand up and say . . . I don’t think that it’s fair that you’re going to ask for an ID so that everybody can use the bathroom. These laws and these policies don’t just affect gay people and trans people. It affects us all. Don’t let that be a period at the end of a sentence. (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016)
Joseph reiterated that part of being a good ally in music education is teaching students and colleagues to understand that “they’re allies and have a voice that they can use” (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016).
Throughout the course of the year, Joseph began to participate in social action within the music school and in the college at large. He was frustrated in some ways by the need to be actively involved given that being transgender was not the sum total of his identity: I’m sick of people deciding that my life should be a political standpoint. It’s like, before I’m [transgender], I’m a human being. You can’t just sit around and say that I don’t have a right to do something because of your political beliefs. And the same for the other way around. . . . “Oh, I’m so liberal I don’t care that trans people use the bathroom.” It’s like, well thanks, you’re not a [expletive]. . . . I’m tired of being a political statement, because I’m not. I’m a person. (Joseph interview, April 12, 2016)
Joseph’s social action also included his making educational presentations at the college to his peers (see Supplemental Figure S4 in the online version of the article) and working with me to present and publish this article at national and international conferences. His participation in presentations has allowed Joseph to share his story and his identity struggles to help those who come after him: I would like to say thank you for doing this [research] because it means a lot to me that someone cares enough to look into this, and that’s really important. And I know it will mean a lot to other people in the [music] building as well. Just thanks. I appreciate it; it’s really cool. And it’s very important, and it’s not just important for trans and LGBT people. It’s important for all of us to be aware of some of the struggles and issues within the transgender community. (Joseph interview, May 3, 2016)
Finding 6: Joseph’s Shared Experiences Reminded Me of Existing Inequality, Illuminated My Own Personal and Professional Blind Spots, and Allowed Me to Challenge the Status Quo
Throughout the course of the study, I attempted to refrain from judgment, become aware of personal biases, and gain clarity about my preconceptions (Patton, 2002). As such, one point of internal tension on my part was the question of whether a white, straight, cisgender male was the most appropriate person to share Joseph’s story. I struggled with reconciling my privileged lived experiences with those of Joseph. Additionally, I did not want to minimize Joseph or his experiences as a monolithic experience of a transgender individual. As Palkki (2016) stated, “the transgender experience is not a monolith—it is multifaceted and is constantly evolving” (p. 83). I made this concern clear to Joseph on multiple occasions, and his responses were supportive, with statements like, “You’re not stupid, you just haven’t had to think about it. Like of course you didn’t know, you never thought about changing your name” (Joseph interview, February 20, 2016). When I shared with Joseph that I was worried about being perceived as an outsider investigating lived experiences that I knew nothing about, Joseph responded, [Doing this type of research] makes me less of an angry trans person . . . and then you see other people who aren’t in X community doing that, and it’s like, oh well that guy over there he said the same thing. . . . It’s really nice to have people outside of the community advocating for people in a community because they don’t share the same experience. . . . I think one thing you could do is just make clear, “Look I haven’t lived this experience, but I’ve educated myself on it. So I can’t talk about my personal experience with it, but I know people who have.” (Joseph interview, March 14, 2016)
Additionally, I found Palkki’s (2016) discussion of this conflict particularly illuminating and affirming with his statement, “I believe that it is possible for cisgender researchers—remaining ever aware of their cisgender privilege—to use their position in a positive way to bring attention and respect to trans experiences and trans issues” (p. 83). My conversations with Joseph served to illuminate my understanding not just of his experiences but also of my own blind spots, especially my privilege as a straight, white, cisgender male.
One artifact that Joseph shared during an interview was an article by Beverly Daniel Tatum (2000). This article was an assigned reading in his Social and Cultural Foundations of Education class. It had an impact on Joseph and his identity construction, and when he shared it with me, it similarly affected me. A passage from the article helped me to recognize blind spots in the media and professional discourse regarding “subordinates” (i.e., those not part of the dominant culture group) in general and transgender individuals in particular. It helped me to consider what systems of privilege I might be overlooking or taking for granted as part of the “dominant” culture (e.g., straight, cisgender, white male), causing a blind spot regarding “subordinates”: How am I represented in the cultural images around me? . . . Dominant access to information about the subordinates is often limited to stereotypical depictions of the “other.” For example, there are many images of heterosexual relations on television, but very few images of gay or lesbian [or trans] domestic partnerships beyond the caricatures of comedy shows. (Tatum, 2000, p. 12)
Listening to Joseph describe his identity construction prior to, through, and at the end of his transition mirrored Tatum’s thesis that identity is socially (re)constructed. Being gender nonconforming was both a part of and an influence on Joseph’s identity construction. “Triggered by the biological changes associated with puberty, the maturation of cognitive abilities, and changing societal expectations, this process of simultaneous reflection and observation, the self-creation of one’s identity, is commonly experienced . . . during the period of adolescence” (Tatum, 2000, p. 9). Finally, in addition to my time spent with Joseph, the Tatum reading also reminded me of the existing inequality between gender nonconforming and heteronormative individuals. For me, this reminder served as a catalyst for my advocacy as an ally and illustrated ways in which I could help underrepresented populations in my program by challenging the status quo and uncovering and empowering reflection as a music educator and researcher. In Tatum’s (2000) words, Preserving the record of those subordinates and their dominant allies who have challenged the status quo is usually of little interest to the dominant culture, but it is of great interest to subordinates who search for an empowering reflection in the societal mirror. (p. 13)
Conclusions
The purpose of this study was to investigate the perspective of one transgender music education student. Many of the themes that emerged from this study closely paralleled Bilodeau’s (2005) findings. Bilodeau characterized exiting a traditionally gendered identity as recognizing and naming one’s gendered experiences. For Joseph, he exited a traditionally gendered identity twice—first as a lesbian and then as a transgender male. Joseph recognized his identity as a transgender male and described that identity as being connected to his political views as well as his approach to advocacy and social justice. His transgender identity development was initially a source of internal conflict and tension as he shifted from identifying as a lesbian to identifying as a straight transgender male and his conflicting attitudes regarding being “stealth” and also recognizing his white, heterosexual privilege. In addition to developing his transgender male identity, he also struggled with losing his identity as a lesbian. He still felt conflicted about openly identifying as a transgender male and enjoying the passing privilege of a white male. While Joseph recognized he was gender variant, it took some time before he was able to affirm his identity first by coming out to his immediate family, friends, and music faculty and finally to his extended family. Despite his affirmation, however, his internal struggle over his identity continued to be a source of conflict.
Bilodeau (2005) described developing a transgender identity as achieving stability in one’s identity by knowing oneself in relation to other transgender individuals and challenging internalized transphobia. Joseph sought out resources like LGBT support groups, online forums, articles, and positive role models to foster the development of his transgender identity. However, in contrast to Bilodeau’s model, Joseph felt conflicted about creating a support network of people who know and accept that he is gender variant versus being “stealth” with his comment, “The best days that I have are the days that I forget that I’m trans.” Joseph challenged his internalized transphobia by educating his parents, peers, and faculty (including me) about how to be supportive and understanding regarding his new identity.
As Joseph’s transgender identity became more stable, he developed a transgender social identity, which Bilodeau (2005) defined as focusing on creating a support network of people who know and accept that one is gender variant. Joseph achieved this through his involvement with the LGBT Center on campus and by participating in LGBT-specific social events. Developing his social identity also involved becoming a transgender offspring as he came out to his immediate and extended family. Their acceptance was slow and is still ongoing at the time of this writing. Throughout the course of this study, Joseph also developed a transgender intimacy status as he exited psychologically and physically abusive relationships and entered a stable relationship in which his girlfriend also served as an ally and advocate for him and the transgender community. Finally, Joseph entered a transgender community by participating in social action through education and outreach and challenged transphobia through his on-campus presentations and through participation in and the dissemination of this study’s results.
This study confirmed some findings in the previous research literature while conflicting with others. Although generalizations may be not possible with this study, it is important to consider Joseph’s experiences and perspectives within the broader context of transgender research. Joseph’s feelings of isolation, rejection, and marginalization are consistent with findings by Pusch (2005) and Beemyn (2005). This study also documented Joseph’s development and affirmation of his transgender identity as he progressed through his transition (Beemyn et al., 2005). While some of Joseph’s friends and professors lacked knowledge about transgender issues (McKinney, 2005), neither overtly targeted him for harassment, which conflicts with findings by Kosciw and colleagues (2012). However, it is reasonable to posit that, since Joseph’s college is consistently rated within the top five trans-inclusive campuses by Campus Pride Index, the campus culture is more open and accepting toward students like Joseph. Many transgender students encounter teachers who do not make an effort to educate themselves regarding transgender rights and supportive practices, and these students face a disproportionately high dropout rate (Beemyn, 2003; Grant et al., 2011). Fortunately, Joseph remains a music education major at his college, and some of his professors have made an effort to educate themselves regarding specific needs of transgender students.
Returning to the question guiding this study, “In what ways can one transgender music education student’s lived experiences and identity development inform discourse in the music education community?” the following recommendations are offered. To serve as an advocate/ally for underrepresented populations, it is incumbent upon music teacher educators to encourage informed discourse within our classrooms. In order to support transgender students in our classrooms and in our preservice teachers’ classrooms, we must actively challenge assumptions, biases, and blind spots. Supporting transgender students and combatting invisibility means recognizing that transgender composers (e.g., Wendy Carlos, Dee Palmer), teachers, and musicians (e.g., Riot Acts documentary) are an important part of the music community. Sometimes people with good intentions make comments or ask questions that are intended to be supportive but can be interpreted as micro-aggressions (e.g., “It doesn’t matter that you’re trans.”). Music teacher educators (and music educators in general) can serve as role models in supporting individuals whose experiences are often invisible to the dominant culture (Galupo, Bauerband, et al, 2014; Galupo, Henise, & Davis, 2014; Hines, 2007; Zitz, Burns, & Tacconelli, 2014). Becoming familiar with institutional policies regarding preferred name/gender marker change, gender-neutral bathrooms, and speech modification programs can be an additional means of support for transgender students. Simple procedures like allowing students to introduce themselves or asking students their preferred pronouns rather than reading from a class roster can allow transgender students to indicate their preferences without being outed in class. An alternative procedure might take the form of written student profiles that students complete on the first day of class indicating their preferred name and pronouns (including other items like contact information and hobbies).
Joseph also specifically mentioned attire as a point of contention. Rather than gendering attire in formal performances and student teaching (e.g., male/female), perhaps a relatively simple solution might be offering Option 1 and Option 2, from which students choose the attire that better represents their gender identities. Although this was not mentioned as a concern for Joseph, it is worth considering finding music teacher allies in K-12 schools to provide support during the student teaching process. Should trans music education students choose to share their gender identity with the music education faculty, music education faculty can work with the student to secure a safe and inclusive student teaching placement. Some student teachers may feel more comfortable being placed in schools that employ transgender teachers. Finally, music teacher educators, preservice teachers, and in-service teachers can use the many educational resources available to help teachers create more trans-inclusive classroom environments. Some resources include the American Library Association’s Rainbow Book List, the American Library Association’s Stonewall Book Awards List, the Teaching Transgender Toolkit (http://www.teachingtransgender.org), Schools in Transition: A Guide for Supporting Transgender Students in K-12 Schools, the National Center for Transgender Equality, and the Federation of Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, to name a few. Additional suggestions include ongoing in-service training for music teachers and music teacher educators to identify appropriate language, counteract common myths, create safe environments, identify resources in the community, develop intervention techniques, and assess one’s own personal heterocentrism (DeCrescenzo & Mallon, 2000). Since it has been demonstrated that professors influence transgender students’ perceptions of campus climate (Tetreault et al., 2013), providing support for transgender students begins with educating ourselves. To paraphrase Fred Rogers (2004), what seems to matter most to those we care about is that we listen to their needs and challenges; listening is a prerequisite to advocacy and understanding.
Supplemental Material
DS_10.1177_0022429418800467 – Supplemental material for Perspectives of a Transgender Music Education Student
Supplemental material, DS_10.1177_0022429418800467 for Perspectives of a Transgender Music Education Student by Jason M. Silveira in Journal of Research in Music Education
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Author Biography
References
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