Letter 12.

Dear Ms. HERstory,

The inmate reception center (IRC) is where men are triaged within the jail so when the nurses handed me your booking number and told me you were “special” that meant a number of different things— you would be kept in isolation and escorted by a deputy for your protection and the protection of others because you were charged with something that was high profile and/or identified as LGBTQI.  Before you came into the room my chart review revealed you were HIV positive so I knew at least one aspect of my management. 

Then the deputy brought you in. And Guurrl! You were fly and most definitely did not look like the other patients I care for in the IRC.  You sat in front of me with our beautiful make up, lashes, dark hair with burgundy highlights, and bedazzled nails.  Instead of jumping into my semi-planned approach, I asked, “What pronouns do you prefer?”  Managing not to mess up your makeup you responded with tears building in your eyes, “OMG guuurl, thank you… I have been misgendered the whole time I have been here.”  You preferred to be called she/her.  You went on to tell me your story—you were on your way to a Caribbean vacation and were pulled off of the plane for a warrant that you didn’t know about.  You admitted to having overcome a former life that included working the streets.  Growing up as a first-generation Filipina, culturally some of your family members couldn’t accept that you were a woman so you left.  In your teens and early twenties, working the streets for years and even using drugs, you contracted HIV and as you said you “wanted something better for yourself”.  You have become so comfortable in your true self and you have been working to make sure your exterior matches; you described your multiple breast augmentation surgeries (which really confused the deputies when you went through booking) and how you planned to go to Thailand for your sex reassignment surgeries.  It is these changes that have empowered you to have the confidence and pride necessary to make changes in your life.  You now work as a health navigator and help other youth who have been abandoned by their families and work on the streets. 

This arrest and it ruining your vacation didn’t seem to bother you because you had already experienced your worst and you knew that this would all be resolved. You were more concerned about the injustice that was happening in the jail—the process of being misgendered over and over again by people who were supposed to honor you as a human being.  Well let me tell you that our conversation did not go unnoticed.  One of the Filipina nurses who brought you to my care approached me afterwards and asked, “Doctor, how am I supposed to know if a person wants to be called him or her?  In my culture we don’t know anything about that kind of stuff.”  I went on to explain how she could simply ask in the same way that I did.  She was sort of puzzled, but when she took vitals from the next patient I heard her ask, “what pronouns do you prefer?”  Of course the patient was puzzled by the question, but my point is that you are teaching people with your story in very special ways.  I don’t think I need to tell you this, but you are an example of the power of a story and being unapologetically yourself to influence change for others.  Thank you for being my reminder.      

You inspire me,

Dr. A