Tim and Me and a Trans Woman at a Trade Show
By: James Finn
Tags: LGBTQ, Parenting, Gay, This Happened To Me, Transgender

My business partner Tim and I went to a trade show in New Orleans last March and met a transgender woman.

Sort of.

Deal making, horse trading, and card swapping were the highlights of the show, the main reason I was there. Who really wants to see a bunch of cheesy display booths? We were there to do business, and the place of business, traditionally called “the snake pit,” was a plush hotel bar located right outside the main display hall.

One day, a sharply dressed, tall woman I hadn’t seen before set up and opened the bar after lunch. She was very fast and efficient, doing a hell of a job slinging beers and booze to a dense, demanding crowd.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.

“Look at those hands, why don’t you!”

“Can’t you see that adam’s apple?”

“Holy fuck, I think it’s got five o’clock shadow!”

(She didn’t.)

The comments were vicious and cruel, many of them uttered in mock whispers loud enough that she must have been able to hear.

Yeah, the bartender was a transgender woman.

Even though she was an excellent server and perfectly pleasant and nice looking, the dozens of plastics executives crowded around her were over-the-top cruel.

I was curious how my own associates would behave, especially with me there, out to them for ages as gay.

Two of my partners met my fairly low expectations. From very conservative backgrounds, they’re proud of themselves for accepting me. Well, they’re proud of themselves for believing that they do.

In a way, they’re progressive. They had to really dig deep to embrace me as a partner. They came to terms with my sexual orientation, though, with exceptionalist thinking.

You know.

Jim’s OK. He’s not like a bunch of those other gay guys. He’s a former Marine. He drives a Bobcat on the factory floor. He’s good with tools and manual labor. He’s one of the good gays.

They’ve never said those words. I can feel them, anyway.

What did they say about the trans woman?

Let’s not talk about the details. Suffice it to say that my partners thought they were complimenting me by congratulating me for not being like her. I tried to do a little consciousness raising, so I spoke their language. I used our corporate credit card to tip the poor woman $100.00. That wasn’t totally beyond the pale given the hours she served us and the rounds of drinks we bought, but it was very generous. They noticed, which is exactly what I intended.

Tim was another story.

He’s also pretty conservative, but he’s warm and generous by nature. Very empathetic. We went for a long walk and had a long talk that night in New Orleans's French Quarter.

As we strolled along, peering into shop windows, listening to jazz in the streets, and enjoying the scent of tropical breezes, we talked about our transgender bartender. We also talked about Tim’s little son.

For a little background, Tim and I weren’t just business partners. We’re close. Friends. I’ve spent time with him and his family — fishing, camping, hanging out. That night in New Orleans, we spoke freely and intimately with one another.

He didn’t approve of the way our trans bartender was treated. Tim doesn’t approve of being mean to people. That’s not him.

But he was very direct about not understanding a lot of trans issues. What particularly bothered him was the public restroom controversy, which was raging at the time in the news.

He framed it in terms of his children. “What if Jared was a little girl instead of a boy?’ he asked me. “I’d feel scared to death to have my little girl walk into a restroom with women who were really men. It’s not right. I’m a dad. I have to protect my kids. That doesn’t make me a bad person.”

We spent thirty minutes talking about what trans means. I’ll spare you the details. Tim listened carefully, though.

Then I cut to the chase.

“Buddy,” I said, “How would feel if you found out five or six years from now that Jared’s gay? How would you react? Honestly?”

I could see him concentrate. His brow wrinkled tightly. “Well,” he stuttered, “I think you know. I love my son more than anything in the world. Nothing would ever change that.”

“I hear a but in your voice.”

“Well, of course, man. I wouldn’t want him to have a hard life. I don’t want people to bully him and treat him bad. Like that bartender tonight. I don’t want that for my kid.”

“OK, well, she’s trans, not gay, but I take your point. Can we take this to the next level, dude?”

He nodded.

“So, what if instead of Jared coming out as gay, he came out as trans? Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, what if he’s living as a girl instead of a boy? What if these new laws conservative are proposing force him to use men’s rooms, even though that’s clearly going to put him in danger? What if he doesn’t just get bullied? What if he gets the shit kicked out of him by jerks like those people at the bar today?”

“But…”

“But as a dad, your most important job is taking care of and protecting your children, right?”

I could almost literally see the light bulb go off over his head.

He got it.

He hasn’t supported conservative public restroom laws since that day.

I never saw that trans bartender again. I wish I had. I’d love to tell her that she made a big difference for at least one person. Her patience in the light of blatant bulling and harassment helped at least one person decide to come down on the side of decency and respect.

Tim is a good man and loving father. All it took to reach him was an appeal to his innate decency and his fierce love for his children.

I realize that isn’t enough for everyone, but it’s enough for many.