The unknown realities of transgender BAME students
This article written by X, a non-binary black student, that discusses their journey as a trans black person, and the challenges they have faced along the way.
Introduction
Hello. I'm X, one of the students working on the content for this package. This article was something I really wanted to share, as I identify as Genderfluid, whilst being Black British. I'm Nigerian, and growing up I learnt very quickly that where I'm from, being LGBTQ+ in any way was unacceptable. I'll spare the gory details, but for the sake of my safety I had to become accustomed to hiding my true sexuality and gender.
The facts: A HEPI report discussed the experiences faced by trans and non-binary students in UK universities. The report contained some helpful demographics taken from a UCAS survey (2021), noting the number of trans applicants across a range of characteristics. From the number of trans students applying for higher education, roughly 16% of them had a Black and Minority Ethnic (BAME) background. The statistics show there aren’t a significant proportion of BAME-transgender students, which also motivated me to write this article.
I plan to share my journey and how I've been able to get by all these years, but don't take my article as a one-size-fits-all manuscript. One size rarely fits all, but especially in these cases, every person is different, including people from minority ethnic backgrounds. Where I'm from, being gay is not allowed, but even then, some Nigerian families may be more LGBTQ+ friendly, as might someone who is South Asian, or Hispanic. This article is about my personal experiences growing up and how I dealt with my heritage conflicting with my identities. I hope that anyone who can relate reads this and hopefully learns that sometimes it can be bad, but with the right support and the right people around you, it does get better.
- My Journey
I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I figured out I was bisexual (later I realised I was pansexual) when I was 10. I was terrified, as this was a decade ago when people were still quite homophobic, especially online. I made sure to tell only 2 people, who were both bisexual too. I was raised Christian/Catholic, and went to church weekly, and attended a Catholic primary school at the time. It wasn't just the Catholicism that scared me, but I became paranoid that one day if someone found out from school, my family would inevitably find out as I had two younger siblings at the time. From that point I knew it was best to keep it a secret, and even tried to convince myself it wasn't true.
I progressed to a Catholic high school, where pretending to be a cis-gender assigned female at birth (AFAB) was the best I could do. I got bullied for other things back then, and definitely didn't want to add being gay to the list, as well as my family somehow finding out. One person, a gay guy at the time, came out, and spent years being bullied, tormented and stalked at some points by people from our school. I never had the bravery to do so, and I constantly reminded him that I was immensely proud, but so sorry about the horrible people in our school treating him that way. At school I was “Head Girl”, led the student council, and a student who went above and beyond, but all that time I had spent working closely with the school was under a false identity, where I masked and hid quite a lot about myself.
My highschool career ended abruptly thanks to the pandemic in 2020. The lockdown was a blessing and curse for me, as school was my escape from family. The blessing came when I spent more time on the internet. I liked to “live under a rock”, even now, with no social media in my life, and I don't particularly like interacting with people. I started using Instagram and Discord more, where I found other LGBTQ+ people online and felt comfortable being open for once. I was more exposed to different things like alternative music, openly gay celebrities, and found myself an identity and aesthetic I really resonated with. That is when I learned that my sexuality best aligned with pansexuality, and that I may be transgender. By then I had already changed my name, as I had always hated my birth name for being too “girly” and not suiting me. I changed it silently on Instagram, and later that year I changed my pronouns too, but was too scared to add it to any social media in case any family members/old schoolmates found out. I remained that way for a while, but by the time I started college, coming out was less daunting. I had a particular style, and started to express myself freely, so although I wasn't wearing pronoun badges or flags, I wanted people my age to look at me and question my heterosexuality. I was sick of pretending, which came with a lot of trials and tribulations too.
I didn't tell many people about my gender identity during college, because I could never determine how safe it was. I grew more used to casually talking about being attracted to all people, and most people I met at college were in some way queer. A lot of the people I knew were typically Caucasian, semi-out and comfortable with their families knowing, but I knew less BAME people, and those that I knew were also hiding their identity too. I feared telling other BAME people I was gay and trans, and never mentioned anything LGBTQ+ related unless I was 100% they were too, or (at the very least) not homophobic/transphobic in any way. People mainly knew me as my preferred name except the people who knew me from high school. At my college, before we started, I emailed them asking that my name be changed to what I prefer. I had to settle with my preferred name in parentheses so people still found out my real name occasionally, especially when on Teams during the 2nd lockdown. I met a lot of different people at college, and despite some knowing my dead name, a lot of people were happy to call me by the name I preferred. I told my family it was just a nickname (I deliberately chose a name that would make sense given my birth name) and they all thought it was weird and didn't ever call me it. I just had to bear with it, and my family environment wasn't particularly positive so college became the new escape, where I could be who I wanted to be around my friends. At this point it still wasn't publicly known that I was trans unless I had told people, as that's when I realised I was on the non-binary spectrum (Genderfluid). My appearance matched this, and when I dressed masculine I would constantly get berated for it by my mother.
The city I grew up in had a Gay Village as well as a diverse population full of black people, alternative people, and LGBTQ+ folks. Because of all the fear, I had one or two black friends who were queer and neurodivergent, and no one else. It was impossible for me to feel safe enough to come out, because I assumed that if they grew up religious, with strict parents, they were most likely transphobic. I recognise how problematic that is, but for safety I just didn't want to risk it, nor face any untoward discrimination.
The gay village was one of my favourite places to go to, as I felt safe and free. Because of my family home, I had to move to a university further out, a place that was less diverse, though I didn't know at the time what to expect. Before going I shaved my hair without my mum's permission, because I hated it, but also wanted to look more androgynous. My mum was furious, but I was 18 and there wasn't much she could do. I came to university and felt so happy that for once I could wear a rainbow lanyard, dress the way I wanted without complaint, and express myself freely. My department was very LGBTQ+ friendly, and within the first two weeks I met new people who were transgender. There was minimal worry about homophobia on campus, though I still didn't feel truly comfortable wearing pronoun badges, or telling people about my gender unless prompted. Hiding my dead name became even easier, though I still experience trouble with administration and government things. I became much more comfortable about correcting people on what name I preferred via emails but in places like the hospital and GP, I just settled with constantly being referred to by my birth name. To this day I still find it difficult to correct people in-person. Thanks to my family, I ensure no pronouns are displayed anywhere in case they somehow find out, and as I write this article, I have had to keep myself anonymous for safety. Although I can be more “out” at university, I could never advocate for LGBTQ+ students because of that fear. Regardless, I have met some amazing people, transgender and allies, who have accepted me for who I am which I'll always appreciate.
As mentioned before, the city I live in now is not as diverse, especially my university. Despite interacting less with black people my age, my heritage is incredibly important to me. I grew up eating Nigerian food, spending time with Nigerian family and family friends, and was so used to my old city being filled with different ethnicities. It was almost like a culture shock when I moved to university, and to this day it saddens me that certain things like African products aren't as readily available, as well as less BAME academics (less than 1% of black scholars, 2024). It saddened me for a while, as I hung out with trans students who I could relate to, but very few black students. It felt like part of me was missing, and I couldn't talk to anyone about it because no one around me would understand. I recall feeling internalised racism, and discrimination against my race when I was younger, but by college I became much more comfortable with the colour of my skin. Being surrounded by very few black people on my course made me regress to that, and all of a sudden I felt isolated. It felt like I didn't “fit in”, like I was an outsider. I was black, non-binary, pansexual, and neurodivergent, and a lot of uni felt extremely lonely because I struggled with so much, with very few people who I could relate to. These issues may not seem like much to most people, but they affected me a lot, just like when I was a kid. Imagine walking into a room full of people, and counting how many black people are in there. If there are none, I feel out of place immediately. If there is at least one, I feel incredibly elated, but sad that there aren't more. I'm not one to discuss my LGBTQ+ identities openly since people usually guess, so gravitating towards black people became something I did more during uni, just to feel more comfortable as I wasn't the only one who felt out of place, especially at prestigious universities or academic conferences. It was like things had reversed from high school. Openly gay, but ashamed to be black.
Going home for the holidays was my one way of embracing my culture, eating Nigerian foods and hearing my mother's tongue. It also meant that I had to pretend to be cis-gender and heterosexual all over again. I have family living in different countries and when visiting them it's the same. My persona changes, there are certain things I can't wear, I get told off for not looking like a girl and having piercings, and I’m forced to act a certain way. Hiding relationships is a must, and to my family, the reason I don't have a boyfriend is because I'm focused on my education and work. I've dated a few AFABs without my family's knowledge, and became so accustomed to hiding everything that even when I date an assigned male at birth (AMAB), I still hide it anyway. I'm not sure how the future will go, but living a double life has become second nature to me now. It's difficult, and I do hope that one day things will be different. Right now I have two amazing black friends who are not trans, but great allies, who hide their sexual identities from their family too so we all understand each other, as well as an amazing trans friend who I’ve known since first year. Thanks to them, uni has become much less lonely.
- Advice
That concludes my journey, from being scared of the word “gay” to living a double life. Though tiring, I've grown used to it now. I know many people are probably going through the same thing, and I think it's important to note that there should never be any pressure to come out if you don't want to. In an ideal world, one shouldn't be pressured to stay in the closet either, but that is much easier said than done!
No matter how you identify or your ethnic background, I will always encourage people to be comfortable in their own skin.
Some people thrive by being fully “out”, and others feel more comfortable and safe in the closet until it's the right time. If you can figure that out, then decide yourself how “out” you want to be, without other people influencing that decision.
The concept of a “chosen family” is quite a popular one, as your family may not be supportive of your identity.
Although this may not be the case for all BAME students, for those that do not have supportive families, remember that your chosen family should be those who are most supportive and welcoming.
This article contains research into LGBTQ+ refugees and their biological vs chosen families.
For me, despite having an unsupportive family, finding people who love, cherish and accept me for who I am made my journey much easier.
Surround yourself with people like that, because everyone deserves to be loved and appreciated at the end of the day.
The friends I mentioned earlier at uni have supported me and been by my side no matter what, and it gives me that balance between my family life and my uni life.
It's hard to deal with unsupportive family members sometimes, and though I don't have much experience in coming out to them, I have spent many years hiding which comes with its own burdens. For self-care advice:
Balance is number one for me. In high school, hiding and masking became incredibly overwhelming. You have different parts of life that feel cut in pieces, but as I aged I got better at merging things together, whilst maintaining safety
Breaks are important, both from family, and LGBTQ+ communities. It can be a burden to focus so much on your identity and background. At the end of the day, you’re just a human like everyone else. Whether Asian, Black, gay, trangender, or non-binary, these labels can sometimes be a burden to carry, which brings me to my next point
Because I come from many marginalised backgrounds, people expect me to constantly advocate for this, and speak on behalf of everyone who deserves more support than they might be getting. But always remember that you’re not obligated to be an activist, and there’s only so much you can do.
The pressure and burden that comes from this can deteriorate your own mental health and wellbeing. No matter what, that comes first, as well as your overall health
In the signposting section, you can access links to more support and advice, from Student Minds/Student Space, as well as advice on how to access support at your own institution.
In terms of presentation, I still dress the way I want with complaints and comments here and there. It's like slowly being more expressive as time passes and you get older. I understand that a Nigerian culture is incredibly different, and I embrace it despite the homophobia and transphobia that comes with it.
For a while, I hated my culture because of their treatment of LGBTQ+ individuals, but I've learnt to enjoy it more and learn new things about it to strengthen my heritage and enjoy the presence of my family more.
This also helped me become proud of the fact I'm Nigerian which I really recommend others to do.
Your ethnicity will always stay with you and abandoning my roots feels like losing part of myself, despite the conflict.
I may not be able to wear binders around my family, or display pronouns to avoid misgendering, but I cope by knowing that just like my race, I will always be non-binary and pansexual.
That won't change, and no good will come from trying to erase that part of me like I attempted to in high school.
My last piece of advice is to be aware of microaggressions, discrimination, and hate crimes. In an ideal world these problems would not exist, but they do, and it can be hard to deal with, especially if you can't defend yourself in front of family without jeopardising your safety.
If your situation is similar to mine, it's always best to ensure you're around allies and LGBTQ+ friendly spaces at uni to reduce the risk of any discriminatory behaviour.
If anything arises, try and alert your university if possible. If you would prefer to stay anonymous then communicate that with them.
Some universities have Report + Support available which allows you to do this. Other universities may have different measures in place.
Even if the issue comes from a member of staff, the university should be made aware of this. They're trained to respect all students and their backgrounds, so it is unacceptable for them to display any discrimination.
Our content package contains all sorts of toolkits and articles about different issues transgender and non-binary students might face, and how to deal with them best, so please take a look at them.
- Signposting
Student Space has an amazing toolkit that allows you to find various support services that are specific to your university.
A student wrote an article in the Life as a Black Student Package, about how to balance being black and queer at university.
The article below also comes from the Life as a Black Student Package, detailing how isolating it can be sometimes as a black student in higher education
A collection of black queer resources, as well as social media pages with black queer figures and media tailored towards black LGBTQ+ folks. The article also contains safe spaces, events and communities to explore
Report + Support is available at a lot of different universities. Search up report + support with your university name to see, or check the student space support finder to see. You can either report anonymously, or report with contact details for further enquiries. The support side should offer advice and information about certain topics such as discrimination/hate crimes. If anything emergent occurs, always call 999. For non-emergent crimes, dial 101, or report online. For more information on this, check the website below
Always check your universities for the types of support offered. Talking to staff who are either LGBTQ+, or BAME allies has always been helpful, as they provide an impartial ear to the troubles you may face at university. It can be an isolating experience at times, especially when trying to battle between your ethnicity and your gender identity, so reach out if it ever gets too much. You should never have to deal with this alone. Like me, there are others who understand the difficulties, and will most definitely hear you out without dismissing your problems.