Wednesday January 19th, 2000

Everybody needs some body

Until recently, most transsexuals were too scared to come out.  But attitudes are changing and many are now standing up to the bigots and ’body fascists’.  Adam James reports

When Anne Ring was a man she had, for 20 years, enjoyed a pint with friends in her favourite pub.  So, after coming out as a transsexual and walking into the pub for the first time dressed as a woman, she fully expected a few raised eyebrows.  But she was totally taken aback when the landlady glared at her and ordered her never to set foot in her pub dressed as she was.  Anne, 56, was forced to leave, feeling angry and humiliated.

Most “trans” people are all too familiar with such prejudice and bigotry.  Some get petrol bombs through their letter boxes, others are attacked by gangs of thugs.  Some find it impossible to get promotion at work, others cannot get a job at all.

Trans people - who, as opposed to transvestites, believe they have been born into the wrong body - have been cast as silent victims of such hatred, stereotyped as timid loners hiding from a hostile world.

Although support groups for UK trans people first appeared in the 1950s, and the most politically active subsequently allied with the gay movement, there was no distinct political voice for trans people.  But, in 1992, this all changed when six men and women met at a London cafe to form Press for Change, trans people’s first political campaigning organisation.

Since then, huge steps have been made in the fight against “body fascism”.  Dynamic activists such as Stephen Whittle, a Manchester lawyer, helped Press for Change to launch the first concerted campaign via the courts to fight discrimination against trans people.

After four years, the first important milestone was reached when the European court of justice ruled that discrimination against anyone who had undergone “gender reassignment” surgery contravened the 1975 sex discrimination act.

This victory opened up challenges to be made against discrimination in employment, and when, in 1998, airline pilot Kristina Sheffield won a case for unfair dismissal, it was followed by a string of similar victories.

Christine Burns, Press for Change vice-president, says such a step-up of campaigning activity represents trans people’s willingness to become more vocal in resisting prejudice.

“When Press for Change started five years ago, it was regarded as being exceedingly brave even to come out as trans,” she says.  “You could count the names on one hand of those who had.  People feared coming out would lead to further discrimination and trouble - such as someone turning up at your doorstep with malicious intent.  But now more trans people are prepared to publicly challenge injustice.”

Activists have tended to use the courts as a platform as opposed to direct action because, with only 5,000 UK trans people, it has been difficult to rally mass support.

Activists also readily admit that many still fear the consequences of becoming militant - such as appearing in court, where previous names are made public, and facing the ignominy of having their personal lives splashed on tabloid front pages.

Yet, in 1997, trans people united publicly for the first time when 50 protesters marched to Downing Street and handed over a 10,000-name petition protesting against Britain’s law that their birth certificates cannot be altered once a person changes sex or has “gender reassignment” surgery.

“It represented tremendous progress to have got all these trans people on to the streets,” says Burns.  “Characteristically, trans people have been afraid of public attention.”

In the same year, activists had their first direct confrontation with “body fascists”.

Some neighbours of Stephen Whittle were trying to eject him and his family from the neighbourhood and had organised a “public meeting” in a pub to discuss how to get rid of them.  But Whittle turned up at the pub accompanied by dozens of supportive neighbours, work colleagues, activists and a TV reporter.

“The bigots had moved on and were nowhere to be seen,” Burns recalls.  “So we decided not to waste the opportunity and had a jolly good party instead.  We challenged unashamed prejudice head-on and we won.”

Despite such progress, Britain remains one of four out of 39 Council of Europe countries which prohibit trans people’s birth certificates from being changed.  This stems from a 1970 decree of nullity case brought by Arthur Corbett, the heir of Lord Rowallen.

Corbett wanted to separate from his wife, the trans model April Ashley, and his family was desperate to avoid handing over any inheritance to her.  The court ruled the marriage void because Ashley’s birth certificate, which acts as proof of identity, stated that she was a man.

“In effect, the judgment means that, once a person has undergone gender reassignment, they no longer officially exist,” says Burns.  “The court’s decision became the touchstone upon which virtually every aspect of our lives came to be judged.  Whether it be claiming benefits or applying for insurance, trans people can end up in all sorts of difficulties if they do not give the name stated on their birth certificate.”

Activists doggedly continue to press the government’s interdepartmental working group on trans issues for the right to have their birth certificate changed.

And, while the court triumphs have done their bit to reverse discrimination, activists have found an unexpected, but powerful, ally in Coronation Street.  Its own male-to-female trans character, Hayley Patterson, presents the first enduring positive image of a trans person to a mass audience and helps erode the idea of trans people as somehow shockingly aberrant.

Hayley’s marriage and employment problems also mirror those that trans people face in real life, largely because a Press for Change member acts as a personal adviser to actress Julie Hesmondhalgh and the Street’s scriptwriters.

Granada, the producer of the programme, had first planned to use Hayley as a character for just eight weeks.  But such was her popularity that the contract was increased to two years.

“Let’s not forget that 18 million people watch Coronation Street,” says Burns.  “The day-to-day experience of a trans person’s life is coming into the living-room of all these viewers, and Hayley’s popularity flies in the face of some who even thought that the life of a trans person should not be shown until after 9pm.”

Meanwhile, Anne is well into her life as a woman.  She planned to take the pub which barred her to court for contravening the sex discrimination act.  But, last October, the landlady apologised and handed Anne £1,000 compensation in an out-of-court settlement.

“It seems the law was on my side,” said Anne.  “But I did want the case to go to court to reveal the kind of suffering and prejudice people like me still have to go through.”

It is such resistance which symbolises trans people’s stronger united voice.  As Whittle says: “Being trans has been a privilege because I have met wonderful people and have done wonderful things.  And I have also been at the forefront of a new political movement that has really challenged the issue of body fascism.

“If we can win the one about trans bodies, then we can win in on all the other battlegrounds surrounding the body - whether it is to do with being fat or thin, able or disabled, black or brown, male or female.”

Copyright © Guardian Media Group PLC 2000