Sharing My Story on the Transgender Day of Remembrance

On November 19, I was given the opportunity to speak in front of students in grades 6 through 12 at a local, religious school. They were holding their weekly chapel service and wanted to honour the Transgender Day of Remembrance, which occurs on November 20, therefore, I was asked to come and tell my story.  It was truly an amazing experience. It was hard to read a room full of teenagers, however I'm told that many were leaned forward in their chairs, eyes widened as I spoke, and there were plenty of heads nodding.

I offered to stay for conversation following the chapel service. Not expecting much of a response, I was extremely surprised that over 20 students had gathered into the classroom to have a discussion with me. Hand after hand went up wanting to ask questions. There was everything from "how did you know you were transgender" to "how do you talk to people who don't understand". I was impressed that questions arose directly from the speech that I delivered, which told me that, in fact, people were listening and paying attention to what was being said. It was all quite humbling.

Ultimately, we ran out of time to cover all of the questions. I was asked if I'd be willing to come back for a second question and answer period. Of course, I said yes and I hope that it really does happen. It felt so good that I could provide a safe place for these students to ask their questions.

The whole day was an entirely new experience for me. While I've had one-on-one conversations with people, this was the first time I'd been asked to speak in front of a large group, let alone teenagers, and then provide a time for questions. I was ridiculously nervous leading up to and throughout the whole event, but by the end of the day, I was reminded of why I've decided to be so open and transparent about who I am. One of the most important things we can do for young people who are questioning, who identify as transgender, or who want to be allies for their friends is to be present for them and to allow them the space to ask their questions.

I'm not going to share all of the questions and answers, but by divine circumstance, the question that closed the day out was biblical and I thought it deserved a reflection here. The question was, "how do you respond to the argument that God created male and female?" The answer to that question can be found in the creation story. God created land and sea, day and night, and male and female. But God also created everything in between like marshes, swamps, dusk, and dawn. There is nothing on the earth that God did not create. I closed by reminding the room that, ultimately, the one thing that God cares about is love - love for God, love for our neighbour, and love for ourselves. In the end, love is all that matters.

Here is the speech that I gave at the chapel service. For their privacy, I've removed all identifiers of the school.

Good morning,

My name is Reverend Theo Robinson. Thank you for giving me space today to speak to you ahead tomorrow’s Transgender Day of Remembrance.

I am an Anglican priest working in a Lutheran shared ministry that serves 7 parishes in 5 towns throughout the Interlake region of rural Manitoba. Which is really just a long-winded way of saying I spend a lot of time in my car.

I’m a family man, raising two teenage children alongside my partner, and we have a handful of pets – 3 cats and 2 dogs.

While working full-time in my previous career, unrelated entirely to the church, I studied part-time at the University of Winnipeg, earning my bachelor’s degree in theology. I’m a now student at the College of Emmanuel and St Chad in Saskatoon, having just started this year working towards a master’s degree in theological studies. I keep going back to school because I believe that it’s important to never stop learning.

I am also a transgender male.

Considering the reason I’m here today, you might wonder why I listed that descriptor last. Well, simply put, despite how public I am about being a transgender priest, it’s not the only thing I want to be known for. There is so much more to who I am than being transgender.

In fact, it took me 40 years to figure out that I am transgender, and many things happened to me during that time. I was raised in the Roman Catholic Church but had an on-again, off-again relationship with my faith and my belief in God. As a young child, I went to church mostly because it allowed me to spend time with my grandma.

I came out as a lesbian in my early 20s and eventually met the woman who would become my wife. We decided that we wanted a child and that I would carry the baby. The first pregnancy was unsuccessful, and the event became, for me, an emotional first step back towards the church.

Shortly thereafter, I met a woman who happened to be in the last steps of becoming an Anglican priest. Having grown up in the Roman Catholic church, meeting a female priest was outstanding and I was drawn to attend her parish. Throughout 2009, I found myself joining the Anglican church, having found a renewed faith in God and love for Jesus.

Eventually, my wife and I separated, and I met my partner and her child, who I am still with today. Throughout this time, I heard my call to the priesthood, which meant going back to university, at which I didn’t do so well the first time around. I had attended the University of Manitoba for three years, trying three different degrees, and eventually dropped out. I was terrified to start over again in my 30s on top of working full-time.

So, you see, I am so much more than a transgender man. Discovering who I truly am felt like just one more step in this crazy thing we call life. In fact, until 7 years ago, I didn’t even know the word transgender. So, I never imagined that I would be standing here in front of you, today, talking about the Transgender Day of Remembrance.

For those who don’t know, the words “trans” and “transgender” are interchangeable. The prefix “trans” means to change, so “transgender” means to change genders. Someone assigned one gender at birth but now identifies as another gender is considered to be transgender. And this is not a bad thing. The doctor didn’t make a mistake. God didn’t make a mistake. It’s just something that might happen to a person as they discover who they are. Would you fault a caterpillar for turning into a butterfly?

The Transgender Day of Remembrance was started in 1999 by trans advocate Gwendolyn Ann Smith as a vigil to honor the memory of Rita Hester, a transgender woman who was killed in 1998. The vigil commemorated all the transgender people lost to violence since Rita’s death and began an important tradition that has become the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Now, I want to take a moment to highlight that this vigil was arranged by an advocate. It is exhausting for an oppressed community to do all the fighting for social justice. Sometimes, the allies and the advocates need to take over, to shoulder the burden of battling for simple human rights like being able to live without fear of being harassed, bullied, or murdered.

According to Miss Smith, “Transgender Day of Remembrance seeks to highlight the losses we face due to anti-transgender bigotry and violence. With so many seeking to erase transgender people — sometimes in the most brutal ways possible — it is vitally important that those we lose are remembered, and that we continue to fight for justice.”

Now, remember, this was said back in 1999. It sure would be nice if, 25 years later, we wouldn’t need talk about anti-transgender bigotry and violence anymore, but the list of transgender lives lost continues to grow every day. Bigotry and violence are on the rise worldwide, and even here in Canada there isn’t anywhere that you could say is 100% safe. According to Forbes Magazine, 320 trans and gender-diverse people were murdered in 2023, most of them transwomen. 4,600 murders happened over the last 15 years.

It can be hard to picture what these numbers mean but imagine the entire student body of this school being murdered over the span of a year. It would be catastrophic to this community. And it’s been catastrophic for the transgender community. In fact, the actual number of deaths could be far higher because so many hates crimes and murders go unreported or are misrepresented in the media. Not to mention that number doesn’t include deaths by suicide, usually caused by bullying, or harassment, or being rejected by friends and family.

It all seems very bleak, and it makes you wonder why anyone would want to live this way. But we must have faith. For the boy who might not feel right in his body so he makes a small change like wearing different clothes or growing his hair out…for him, we must have faith.

For the young woman, who even after making small changes, doesn’t feel right so she starts hormone therapy to change her body…for her, we must have faith.

For anyone who makes the courageous decision to have surgery to medically transition, taking the risk that there might be complications, so that maybe, just maybe, when they look in the mirror, they finally see the person they know themselves to be…for them, we must have faith.

For all the people who are just trying to live authentically, we must have faith that the world can be made into a safer, more inclusive space. And it doesn’t take much to do so. Something as simple as churches, schools, and any other public buildings having single stall washrooms. There are those who protest this type of change, but just think of your bathrooms at home…

Trans people have always existed, and we will continue to exist. And we need all the allies we can get. Once you’ve decided to be an affirming and inclusive space, it’s important to be public about that decision. In a world where the risk of living as a transgender person is increasing daily, trans folk need to know where the safe spaces are, to know who the safe people are, to know that they are loved and supported no matter what, to know that there’s a place they can go when they need an escape. Because they also need faith that there are good people in the world, and that there will come a day when all trans people will be safe to live as their authentic selves.

Perhaps you’re wondering how someone can be transgender and still keep their Christian faith. Perhaps you’re wondering where I find my faith. It’s pretty simple actually. I find my faith in the teachings of Jesus Christ. Jesus teaches us about love, compassion, and sympathy. He teaches us that we are all God’s unique creation, and we all deserve to live, to be seen, to be loved. Jesus teaches us that we are all loved, now and forever, and that we are called to share that love with others and with each other.

Perhaps you’re wondering how someone can be transgender and still want to be a priest. It was during the discernment period of my call to the priesthood that my eyes were opened to my authentic self. Of all the people I needed to tell, there were three conversations I was scared to have.

First, was telling my mom. I never felt she was too happy about my being gay, nor did I think she was anything but disappointed in me for getting a divorce. So, telling her I am a man and would be starting hormone treatment was not something I looked forward to. Turns out my fears were unfounded, and she has been very supportive of me.

Next was telling my then-90-year-old Roman Catholic grandmother. Having some ideas about the Roman Catholic beliefs regarding the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, I was very scared to tell her, assuming that she’d want nothing more to do with me. It took everything I had to come out as transgender to her, but once again, my fears were unfounded. Mostly I think she’s just happy I’m a religious man, and she’s definitely excited that I’m a priest.

And then there was my bishop. Remember earlier I said that I was in the discernment period of my call to the priesthood. I didn’t really know where the Anglican Church stood on 2SLGBTQIA+ issues. As far as I could tell, my diocese had never dealt with a transgender person, living openly, and also wanting to be a priest. And here I was, sitting in front of a man who could take away my dream to be a priest in an instant. Bracing for the words “get out” as I told him my news, all I got was, “ok, now what?”

To be clear, despite my fears along the way, I had it pretty easy. Almost everyone I came out to accepted me, asked me what they could do to support me, and have stood by me through thick and thin. Not everyone has it that easy. Children get kicked out of their homes for being transgender. People lose their jobs, get harassed, or are killed for being transgender. Even allies aren’t immune to harassment for supporting the community. I am aware of allies who have received death threats for being publicly supportive of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says “I am the light of the world”, calling on those around him to follow his light out of the darkness. It was through the fact that my mom, my grandma, and especially my bishop didn’t turn me away that made me realize my call to the priesthood held a second calling – to be a beacon of light to others. I realized that my call to follow Jesus is one of transparency, of being completely open and honest about myself as a way to make the unknown familiar and to create a stepping stone to reconciliation.

For too long, the church, society, and the world, has asked those of us who are transgender to put our lights under a bowl, to keep ourselves hidden away as if we were a dirty secret. My hope is that if I put my light on its stand and let it shine, then others will gain the courage to put their light on its stand as well.

And so, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for welcoming me here to your school, for giving me the occasion to share just a small piece of my story, for the opportunity to bring to light the importance of the Transgender Day of Remembrance, and for the chance to put my light on its stand. May the love and light of Jesus Christ shine through you today and always.

Thank you.