Victor/Victorious

Just last week, transgender rights took a huge step forward.

A federal judge awarded Diane Schroer of Alexandria, Va., a former Army Special Forces commander, nearly $500,000 because she was rejected from a job at the Library of Congress while transitioning from a man to a woman. When Diane applied for a terrorism analyst job, she was still a man named David Schroer. When David announced he was having surgery to change his gender, the offer was suddenly rescinded. The judge ruled that was sex discrimination and Diane was entitled to back pay and damages.

I have my own trans workplace story. And no, I didn’t used to be a “Woman About Town.” When I worked as a reporter at one of my former newspapers about a decade ago, I had my first face-to-face experience with someone who is transgendered.

S/he worked on the business side, and was a very nondescript man I barely saw or remembered. Then one day, he came up in the newsroom wearing heels, a skirt, blouse, and badly applied make-up (hey, he was a beginner). The hair was a little different, too, not that you noticed it with all of the other stuff going on.

I adjusted my eyes. Honestly, it was kind of funny, like a homemade moment from “Tootsie.” Did he lose a bet? Was he trying to be funny? What was the deal? A few of us snickered about it. But soon someone told me that he was trans, the real deal. Apparently, he felt he needed to become a woman and he aha started talking pre-surgery hormones. And he decided upon the change in dress and appearance to begin the transition.

I didn’t realize he had on-going conversations with his co-workers in his department and his boss to tell them about his decision, and how that would go medically and socially. So the downstairs folks knew, but the upstairs folks like me had to learn about it through gossipy leaks. Someone else mentioned he was formerly married with children. Someone else whispered one or more of his kids weren’t talking to him/her anymore and s/he would lose custody. I certainly wasn’t going to ask him, um, her. Why delve into his, um, her personal life when I barely knew the (wo)man before?

I did learn the new name: Amanda. (I can’t recall his former name.) One of my co-workers couldn’t resist with a joke: “Maybe he chose that because people respond, “He was really ‘a man…duh!’” Sorry, it’s reporter humor. When I went downstairs for a matter, I would notice his co-workers calmly called him Amanda and didn’t react abnormally at all. Soon, we all did that. Once we discovered what was going on, it was no biggie. Besides, he learned how to do his hair tighter, and he started wearing better ensembles.

When first confronted with the new Amanda, I was a little weirded out, puzzled and uncomfortable at first, especially not knowing what was happening in Amanda’s life. And I can imagine that’s what the Library of Congress officials felt. Soon, it wasn’t about the qualifications, it was about feeling unsettled by a change they didn’t understand.

Well, it’s too bad they ignored the transition period and let fear and discomfort morph into hostility and discrimination. Perhaps if they had the time my co-workers and I had to learn the situation and become a little educated, they could have realized being transgender didn’t have to negatively affect the job or themselves.

Because people seem to wake up when they suffer financially, perhaps this will be an alert to employers on this type of discriminatory behavior. Transgendered people have to make a living, too, and they need a modicum of respect that should be afforded to every other type of human being.

The judge’s ruling is a victory not only for Diane, but also for Amanda.