A Message to SLU Students and Faculty

To start off, let us define a few terms. Deadname: the birthname that a transgender person does not go by anymore. Performative activism/allyship: Saying you support and stand with a certain cause or marginalized community but not following through, or even more simply put, not practicing what you preach. During my time here, I have sadly learned that this institution, as well as many others, is filled to the brim with performative activism/allyship, and this can be shown by the deadnaming problem I and many others are experiencing or have experienced here at St. Lawrence University.  

I understand that not all systems and institutions are perfect, and mistakes happen. However, picture this: you finally get the courage to fill out the form to have your chosen name, the name that you know is yours and that you have fought to be known by be displayed on your email, class rosters, etc. You wait and wait until you finally see that the name that is shown is yours and not the one that fills you with dread, but it is only on the email. Then you keep waiting, and finally, all the other systems say they are updated, it is all nice, and everyone is happy, and everyone uses your chosen name because it is there for all to see. Happily ever after, right? You would be wrong, my friend. The first email I get after waiting for everything to be changed and updated is titled with my deadname, and I am greeted with “Hello deadname,” even though I went through this lengthy process just to get my email to show my name. I am greeted with my deadname, the one that pains me. This is sadly the reality that I and many other trans students on this campus face.   

Some questions people may ask me are, “Can’t you just bring this up to administration?” “Is it really THAT hard?” Or my least favorite, “Can’t you just calm down they’re on your side?” First of all, it is not easy to just tell a random person something that could feel deep and personal to you. It could make me or anyone else in the same situation feel vulnerable. Feeling vulnerable is not fun, so of course, you would do whatever it takes to avoid that. To add to this, let us return to the term performative activism. The rampant performative activism is one of the reasons I have a hard time just telling random people at this school, “Hey, that’s not my name,” and why I and many other students speak out but also feel burnt out. This makes it difficult because performative activism creates this false narrative that people will help, listen, and take me seriously no matter the way I handle or approach the situation. However, instead of what they promise, I will get talked down to, or I am expected to “be the bigger person” when I just want to live. Sometimes, I will be met with understanding because people make mistakes. We are human, and its life, but sadly, this institution seems to only want to be there for us to look good. Even if this may not be the intention, it sure feels that way when I am deadnamed when my chosen name is in your face on a computer screen.  

I will end this with some words of advice to people who want to be allies. First, practice what you preach. If you put your pronouns in your Instagram bios or talk about how much you like a celebrity or popular character who happens to be transgender, please do more to support our community. Yes, those examples are a great start, but go further; if someone gets upset because they were misgendered, do not tell them to calm down or brush it off, and do not make it about you or other cisgender (cisgender is somebody who identifies with their assigned gender at birth) people. We do not owe you perfection or calmness. Trans people don’t exist to be palatable to cis-normative society and institutions. Secondly, listen and learn from us, but do not make one person a human dictionary. While some of us do not mind sharing our stories, there are other people who would rather keep their lives to themselves, and that is valid. Even if you say you are an ally, not every trans person will want to open up to you about their experiences, and that is valid. We do not owe the world our deep personal stories and struggles, just like any other person in this world. Lastly, it should go without saying trans people are not a monolith, and no two people’s experiences are the same. Just because my experience might be different than yours, a friend’s, a relative’s, etc., does not make me or anyone else valid in our identity.   

Remember, we do not owe you anything, and being a good ally is not as simple as just stating, “I am an ally.” It requires work, learning, unlearning and dedication. If we want to stop the pattern of performative activism and make life easier for marginalized communities at SLU, we need to engage in actual allyship and activism. A fantastic way to start is to speak out, and not just in the heat of a bad moment on campus or during certain days or months. Make your voice heard because, to me, speaking out more than during certain times or moments shows true allyship and dedication.