Jayne Walters

Welcome to Trans + Script, a column dedicated to amplifying the voices of transgender, nonbinary (nb), and queer library people and highlighting topics related to their experience in libraries.

A couple of important details before we get started:

• Language in this column is intended to be affirming unless noted differently.
• Each of our stories is unique and important; if you don’t see yourself represented here and would like to be, email me to get involved.
• This column is managed and written by people who feel equipped to navigate these issues. Most contributors will be trans, nonbinary, or queer, but contributors will not be not forced to share their identity publicly if they choose not to. Some will be allies recommended by trans, nb, or queer library people.
• I use the term “library people” intentionally; this column may include content from library employees, volunteers, supporters, or otherwise library-connected individuals.

When thinking about a theme for this first column, I kept circling back to the simple idea that trans/nb library people are everywhere. We’re in big cities, small towns, rural communities, on military bases, in areas of wealth, and in areas of poverty. We’re in all kinds of positions. Some of us are “nobody knows my trans history” stealth, some of us are “shout it from the rooftops” out. You’ve probably encountered at least one of us, though you may not know it.

Why is that reality important enough to be the first topic in this column? Because even though there are a lot of us and we’re everywhere, representation still matters. It is meaningful for both trans/nb people and cisgender people to hear and celebrate our stories and experiences.

In that spirit, what better way to start than by sharing the experience of a trans library branch manager working in West Indianapolis, IN, Jayne Walters’ story speaks to the impact of representation and the joy of being her authentic self at work.—Elsworth Carman

IN HER OWN WORDS

One day, a little over two years ago, my manager leaned over and asked me, “Don’t you ever get tired of answering those questions? I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to just get to be you?”

I’ve worked for the Indianapolis Public Library system for six years, and when I started, I never knew that the career path I was on would also be a new path in life for me. Having gone back to school late in life to start from scratch with an Associates degree, I was also on track to eventually break down from hiding who I really was. I had always been openly out as bisexual (later identifying as pansexual), and was thrilled to work someplace that was so accepting. My previous job let a fantastic worker go when he mentioned a past boyfriend.

This was a workplace that had a booth at Pride, drove the bookmobile in the parade, and welcomed everyone through the doors and into jobs. After working there for a year, I came out to my family as transgender, but waited on coming out at work. After all, It’s Indiana. Home of Mike Pence. There are more open members of the Ku Klux Klan in this state than there are trans folks.

Being pretty sure that my employer would be okay with it and I wouldn’t get fired was a lot different than knowing for sure. Thankfully, HR eventually added transgender protections to the policies. At that point I came out, and my environment was incredibly welcoming.

The neighborhood I worked in was extremely accepting and supportive, as were the teachers and other community partners I worked with. Despite this, it was frightening, in the beginning, to be the first openly transgender person in our system.

THE BENEFITS OF BEING OUT

For a lot of transgender people, the hope is to eventually just be themselves and have the topic of being transgender be rarely discussed. At first, I thought about being that person. My manager even asked me if I wanted to switch branches so I could just walk in as Jayne to the entire community and they would never have known me as anyone else. I thought about that a lot. How much easier it would have been. How fortunate I was to even have that option presented to me. Then I thought of young Jayne. Of what a difference it would have made in my life to have seen someone like me as a kid. To know that I wasn’t a freak, or wrong about who I really was, and that I could not only be myself… but I could do a job I’ve always wanted.

I saw it as a chance to be the person I wish I’d had in my life growing up. To show a community that transgender people are just normal folks wanting to live their lives. We’re real people that deserve rights, freedom, love, and respect, just like anybody.

Being openly out as transgender has helped fellow staff members to understand more, learn more, and recognize the needs of the trans community. It’s also meant that I’m here for other trans employees to ask how I came out to HR, my manager, my coworkers, etc. To show them that it’s safe for them to do so.

Being openly out has also helped a variety of young patrons feel safe to approach me when looking for LGBTQIA+ material, or to talk. I’m not just an ally; I’m family. I’m someone they know will accept them, even if their family at home won’t.

It’s been four years since I came out. I’ve stayed in the same library system and moved up to be a manager of my own little neighborhood branch. I’ve had had fellow library folks reach out to me for help implementing change in their own systems and I’ve spoken at conferences on creating safe and welcoming spaces, programming, and displays for all. Two years later, I have the real answer to that question, “Wouldn’t it be nice to just get to be you?”

Yes, and I am getting to be me more than I ever have in my entire life.

Jayne Walters is Manager of the West Indianapolis Branch, Indianapolis Public Library, IN. Elsworth Carman is Director of the Iowa City Public Library in Iowa City, IA.