How equity and inclusion feels from the inside.

Disclaimer/warnings: This is my story about coming out as a trans woman at work. I'm hoping that reading through this and seeing how my life was forever changed for the better because my employer focused on inclusion and equity. There is no way to accurately talk about any trans experience without including transphobia. I've tried to keep it to a minimum but it is still present.

I’m going to start this story in 2018, but before we get to me, I want to establish the atmosphere of the country at this point. The Trump administration was finishing up its second year running the executive branch. Trump had tweeted and begun working on barring trans individuals from being in the military. Bethany Kozma, a known transphobe and supporter of bathroom legislation, was appointed to Trump’s administration as the “Senior Adviser for Women’s Empowerment.” Jeff Sessions, as attorney general, released a memo stating that the Civil Rights Act will no longer extend protections to trans individuals. The CDC was instructed to no longer use the word “Transgender.” These are just a collection of anti-trans discriminations that occurred at the federal. Not included are the state and local campaigns waged against my community, the battles happening at schools over bathrooms, and the ridiculous amounts of threats against trans women who chose to use the women’s restroom. To say that I’ve been living with fear is an understatement.

During the late summer of 2018, I reached out to a manager from a different department with a request to have a private work-related one-on-one meeting with them. They graciously agreed, we set up a meeting in one of the small conference rooms. I start the workday the same as all the others. Still, as the time draws closer to the meeting, I become increasingly nervous, sweating profusely; I’ve been using my office deodorant at least once every 15 minutes, my appetite is nowhere to be seen. My focus is becoming even more fragmented.

Finally, it is time to head the meeting. I grab my water cup to fill on my way, try to steel my nerves, and head to the room we chose. The manager is there waiting with a big smile and a warm demeanor; we close the door, sit down, and they ask, “So what’s up?” At this point, it is taking every reserve of strength, will, and fortitude to not break down into tears or run from the room, quit my job, and move to a new country. After what felt like an eternity but likely was only a few moments, I come out as a trans woman and ask them for advice on how to handle coming out and transitioning at work. The first thing they did was acknowledge what just happened; coming out as part of the LGBTQ+ community, especially as a trans individual, places you in a vulnerable position. My memory of the meeting after that is hazy. The feelings of acceptance and inclusion override everything else, and in retrospect, were far more critical than anything else that happened. I know for sure that I cried; I received advice on starting the process and found a trustworthy ally at work that knew the truth about me that I had felt forced to hide. I can not stress the importance of this event enough; even writing about this is making me cry.

The next set of people to reach out to was my management team and our department’s assigned human resources employee. I reached out and set up a meeting with my manager and the department VP next. Having a successful meeting under my belt and the promise of help if it went wrong, I went into the meeting with my management with a little more confidence and less nervousness. My manager and I met the VP in their office; we closed the door and sat down. After a deep breath to steel my nerves, I told them I was a trans woman and plan on publicly transitioning soon. Once again, I was met with acceptance, inclusion, and equity. I was promised by both managers that I had their full support, that this was to happen on my timeline, and my professional career would be unaffected by this. The last promise they made, which was “that my career would be unaffected,” felt impossible and, of course, was impossible; being a trans woman is an integral part of who I am. In reality, that promise was never significant. What they were truly promising is their adherence to a zero-tolerance policy regarding transphobia.

My first meeting with our assigned human resources representative was next. At this point, I felt more comfortable with coming out at work; three different managers had assured me of their support for me. I was only slightly nervous when I went to the meeting with the HR rep and felt confident that I would get the same level of support from them. The HR rep exceeded not only my expectations but also my hope. The HR rep went beyond providing support in the form of company guidelines; they were passionate and conscientious of my comfort and safety as an out trans woman. That meeting was the first of many interactions; we had meetings, a continuous email chain, and calls to establish a plan of action, complete with a timeline based on my wants and needs.

Working with our HR rep and my manager, we created a plan to process my transition, including coming out, updating personnel records, and updating systems to reflect my new name and my correct gender identity properly. While visiting the main office, my department head took the time to meet with me. We talked about the current plan and their support for the zero-tolerance policy. They also included their want to be included in all transphobic incident reports to verify the company’s responded quickly and correctly.

I chose 1/1/2019 as my transition date for work; I was embodying the new year new me trope but having a precise start date was important to me and the process. It drew a line in the sand saying that I am allowed to be my authentic self from this day forward, and I have the right to be the real me without fear. Now that I had chosen the date, we had to communicate it to my coworkers, which presented a unique problem; I worked for a company across the country in three central office locations, two additional small office locations, and over 1,400 employees. We decided to handle the communication with a three-step plan. Step one was to come out directly to my department at the upcoming fourth quarter department meeting. Step two was that following my communication to our department, my management team would handle communicating to the departments we worked with. Step three was to allow the information to spread organically.

I want to pause here to talk about the medical process of transitioning that many trans individuals have to participate in. I was required to work with a registered counselor and complete a “Gender Assessment” as a requirement to receive a letter that would allow me to meet with a doctor and ask them to help me medically transition. The “Gender Assessment” can be expressed as a two-part process. Part one is providing the therapist with your autobiography and allowing them to question and dig into it at their will. The second part is answering a questionnaire. Within the questionnaire is a specific question that deserves attention. The question wanted to know what guarantee I could make to my therapist that I wouldn’t commit suicide because I would deal with transphobia regularly once I started transitioning. This question still keeps me up at night over two years later because it recognizes that trans community is regularly preyed upon and that society isn’t going to protect us.

Anytime a person comes out of the proverbial closet, it is an act of vulnerability and trust. You are placing trust in that person that they will respect you and understand the gravity of the situation. The fact that you are part of the LGBTQ+ community, especially if you are part of the trans community, can be used to compromise our safety and well-being. Hate crimes against the LGBTQ+ community are everywhere, and during the Trump presidency, their frequency grew. In coming out, I was placing more than just trust in management that they would protect my job; I was putting trust in my team, my department, and my coworker. I trust they will still treat me as a human being deserving respect, privacy, and safety. I knew when I started this journey that the end was going to be that I no longer got to keep my trans-ness a secret; this is something that will be a public part of me till I die.

In the days leading up to the meeting, I was a nervous mess. I spent my free time trying to think of different ways to reduce risk and manage potential damage. I had created a presentation (which wasn’t used) to educate people about what being trans is and what it means. I researched towns and cities to run away to so I could start over from scratch. Nothing I did or tried brought me any peace; I realized I had to wait and see how my coworkers handled the news and move on from there. Every day I had to make the same decision; every day I had to decide my original decision of living my authentic truth was worth putting my safety in the hands of strangers.

My coming out announcement was scheduled for the end of the meeting, with the only thing after it being a ten-minute buffer Q&A session. Planning it in this manner meant that I could leave right after giving myself space and time to calm down without missing anything of substance from the meeting. The HR Rep also asked to attend the meeting virtually, allowing them to support and provide the unintended benefit of being a witness if any incidents occurred. I waited, counting down the minutes, keeping track of the agenda, focusing on my breathing, and trying to appear calm on the outside despite the wreck I was on the inside. Finally, our department head hands the floor over to me; I close my work laptop and grab everything to set down next to the door so that I can leave right away. Despite being a practiced, skilled public speaker, I felt as if I was being dragged to the front of the classroom by a teacher to admit fault and endure the ridicule of my peers. Steeling my nerves with a deep, slow breath, I came out to my department. I told them I am a trans woman, my pronouns are she/her, and my new name is Harleen, Harley for short, and I will be presenting as my authentic self at the beginning of next year. Then I walked out of the room as fast as I could manage without running; I made it to my desk without running into anyone, which I hope meant no one noticed that I was already crying from the emotional toll of what I had just done.

Sitting down at my desk, I docked my laptop and logged onto the virtual meeting to hear the rest of it; I was curious about my department’s reaction. I caught the end of our department head’s addendum to my announcement of the company’s zero-tolerance policy regarding transphobia. Before the meeting was over, instant messages and emails from teammates starting pouring in. Some timestamped before I was even back to my desk. Every single message and comment I got for the rest of the day coming out was one filled with support, acceptance, and love. The rest of my workday was spent on accepting messages and support from my teammates, trying not to cry, and for the first time thinking I might have had made the right decision. I started to let myself believe that maybe I could trust my coworkers with my secret, that they would handle it with care and respect.

After the meeting, my management team connected with me to start on step two of communicating my coming out. It is vital to make sure the person coming out has continuous control over the spreading of that information. They crafted and sent out the communication and the company’s zero-tolerance policy and resources to answer. The breathing room this provided to me was invaluable. After the emotional and mental stress and strain I went through when I came out to my department, this was a welcomed alternative.

On January 2nd, 2019, Harleen Hinze, for the first time, came to work. While I had been going out in public and presenting my true gender outside of work, this was the first time any of my coworkers met the true me. The last month of support and promises from my coworkers helped diminish the nerves and fears but couldn’t erase them. I came into work with an email waiting for me from the company’s CEO, whom I knew well enough to call by their first name. It was once again a promise of support, which the CEO quickly called in themselves when they learned that IT had not changed my email address to my updated name. I got to start the 2019 work year living my authentic self with the promise of support already being acted upon. I felt for the first time working comfortable enough to be myself.

For as much time, energy, effort, and work I’ve put in, it would never be enough to guarantee me a place to work that I could safely and comfortably be my authentic self. Even though they should be the standard, the actions my coworkers took were a large part of why I was able to come out and continue working there through my transition.

If there is anything you take from this, I hope it is that when creating an environment that has a zero-tolerance policy against discrimination that actively works to inclusive and equitable your workplace becomes a safer place and allows your workers to be their authentic self, which we all deserve.

Now let’s end on a positive note, a trans woman's successes. The "cover" photo for this article is from my wedding this past December to my beautiful and amazing wife. I'll include a few more photos from the wedding below. Please note that all the wedding photos were taken by Lotusfly Photography https://www.lotusflyphoto.com/

First though here is a picture of me circa spring 2017

And here is a photo of me taken September 8ths, 2018 (which puts it after I came out to my friends and family but before coming out at work) (This one taken by JS Photography)

Here is a much more recent picture of my wife and I.

And as promised here is another wedding photo