Photo by Violetta Markelou
Content warning: discussions of racism
Schuyler Bailar is perhaps best known as the first transgender man to compete in the male category of any Division 1 NCAA sport. Since graduating from Harvard in 2019 with a double major in psychology and cognitive neuroscience, he has become a prominent activist for transgender rights and body positivity through his Instagram handle @pinkmantaray. He has also published multiple books on the transgender experience, including his recent book “He/She/They,” which includes the “essential language and context” of gender identity and recollections from Schuyler’s transition journey.
Another aspect of his identity, however, speaks to me the most: Schuyler Bailar is an East Asian American trans man.
“Most of the time, I’m talking about belonging as a transgender person — especially in sports or healthcare or bathrooms or any one of the many places that trans people are currently being attacked,” Schuyler said in his Trailblazer Honoree award acceptance speech at the 2023 Korean American Story Gala. “But… today I thought about my belongingness or my ability to belong in a Korean space.”
Despite the increasing awareness of the diversity of queer identities and issues in the modern day, the intersectional experiences unique to transgender people of color often go unrecognized.
As a Chinese transgender man, I grew up with a jarring lack of East Asian transgender representation, both in mainstream media and on the internet. I would spend hours scrolling through pictures under the “trans boy” search bar on Tumblr, trying to stave off the dread that came with knowing I didn’t have the same wavy hair or defined jawline as the people in the photos. I felt simultaneous relief and pain seeing the faces of others who knew what it was like to be transgender, but also looked nothing like me.
It took a long time for me to grasp that I didn’t have to look exactly like the white trans boys I saw to deserve the same right to self-identity and love. And it wasn’t like anyone around me was saying that I didn’t — the simple lack of representation was enough to make me feel that way.
A clip from Schuyler’s recent video interview with StyleLikeU’s “What’s Underneath” Project made it clear how badly I’d needed someone like him growing up.
“I think I have soft features… I’m not tall, I don’t look threatening, I’m not big. Asian men are consistently accused of not being man enough… and trans men are also, because we are so closely associated with womanhood. We’ve got two pretty strong stereotypes of lesser masculinity.”
Schuyler’s words resonated with me; when I saw cis male East Asian celebrities with their soft features and courage to blur the line between masculine and feminine presentation, I felt some semblance of hope when the “Asian trans boy” searches had failed me. But even then, there would be derisive comments on how “girly” these celebrities looked and how “Asians can’t be masculine.” It was troubling to see that the East Asian men I related to were still shamed for not fitting a white, Western standard of masculinity. The idea that even the cis men of an entire ethnic group could have their identities so easily invalidated sent a terrifying message to an East Asian trans man like me.
These comments and Schuyler’s interview brought something to the surface of my mind that I’d always subconsciously been aware of. My transition centered around the struggle of being a part of two marginalized communities with a common denominator: not being “man” enough, and not being enough at all.
“I have loved my chest scar,” Schuyler continued in the interview. “It’s my story, my history, written in bold across my chest… I want to consistently send the message to my body that it is enough as it is.”
Schuyler acknowledged the lack of East Asian transgender representation through his children’s book “Obie is Man Enough,” which follows a young Korean American trans boy as he joins the boys’ swim team at his new middle school. “I think I would have read [“Obie is Man Enough”] and been like, ‘Oh my God, that’s me,’” Schuyler told Boston.com in an interview about the book.
When asked if he had written any similarities to his own life into Obie’s story, Schuyler said that “Obie’s Korean grandparents are probably almost exactly my grandparents — their history and their culture and the way they speak to me, all woven into a fake story from their real life.”
Both Schuyler and Obie’s experiences with traditional family members ring true to many transgender East Asians. “It took me a long time to figure out how to tell [my grandmother]… there isn’t a word for transgender in Korean,” Schuyler said during his speech at the 2023 Korean American Story Gala. “So instead I explained what it meant to be trans. I said ‘Halmoni (Grandmother), this is why I’m telling you, it’s because I respect you, because I love you, because I desperately hope you’ll stay in my life.’”
Throughout my transition, I’ve found that figuring out your identity doesn’t mean you’re a piece that no longer fits into your people’s puzzle — you might be a different piece, but you’re part of the picture all the same. East Asian cultures in particular place a large emphasis on family, and Schuyler’s experiences with coming out to his family reflect this integral aspect.
I think a key part of familial dynamics in East Asian cultures is how we learn to respect our elders: what they’ve sacrificed for us, our future, and our happiness. Sometimes what exactly that happiness means for each person blurs the line between expectation and reality. But to me, it’s the authenticity, vulnerability, and patience Schuyler employs in coming out to his older relatives that exemplifies the filial piety we deem so important. The best way we can show our family how grateful we are for their love is to show them how boldly we are willing to thrive because of that love.
Schuyler’s existence is a beacon of hope for me and other East Asian trans men still wincing from the sting of underrepresentation. His shared experiences help me see how far I’ve come in reconciling my culture with my identity and invigorate me to continue to brave that rocky road. I’m nowhere near where Schuyler is now, but someday I will be. Having his experiences as a precedent to my own is a blanket of comfort upon my shoulders — a reassurance that there is a happy, healthy future for people like us.
Schuyler concludes his speech at the Gala by reading out an excerpt of “He/She/They,” where he describes how he had the phrase “mother, father, filial piety” tattooed in his grandmother’s handwriting below one of his top surgery scars.
“I wear my scar, my history, my story, and my tattoo with great pride… because these make me who I am, and I refuse to forget who I am. If my Catholic, Korean, immigrant grandparents can accept [my gender identity], anyone can.
“Love can transcend all barriers if we let it.”
Credits:
Author: Marc Cabilangan (He/Him)
Copy Editors: Rhea Morita (They/Them), Emma Blakely (They/She/He)