The Female Lead Read online

  Later, the rebels occupied the orphanage and threw us out. We walked across the border to Guinea. There were plans for most of us to be adopted, but not me. Finally, there was a plane to Ghana. I was miserable because I thought I would never see my best friend, number 26, again. Then a lady with blonde hair, which seemed amazing to me, and wearing bright red shoes grabbed my hand and my friend’s hand too, and said, ‘I’m your new momma.’ Number 26 became my sister Mia.

  When we got to the hotel, I started looking through my momma’s luggage for my tutu and pointe shoes. I thought all Americans were doctors, models or ballerinas and she would have brought my clothes with her. I didn’t speak English so the only way I could explain was to take the picture out of my underwear and show her. She understood straight away. She said I could dance if I wanted to.

  When we got to America, I started going to ballet class once a week, then twice a week. I found a video of The Nutcracker and I must have watched it 150 times. I begged my mother to take me to a performance and I knew it so well that I could tell when they went wrong. By the time I was ten I was going to ballet classes five times a week.

  I worried that my vitiligo would be a problem but my skin turned out to be an issue in a different way. A lot of people are still very traditional in their views and they want to see the same thing in the corps de ballet – white skinny dancers.

  I worried that my vitiligo would be a problem but my skin turned out to be an issue in a different way. A lot of people are still very traditional in their views and they want to see the same thing in the corps de ballet – white skinny dancers. Early on, my mother was told by one of my ballet teachers, ‘We don’t put a lot of effort into the black girls. They all end up getting fat, with big boobs.’

  I was stigmatised as a child and I had to grow up very fast. I couldn’t show my emotions. Being adopted showed me that it was OK to be weak sometimes, that weakness can also be a kind of strength.

  I have strengths as a dancer. I am muscular and I have strong legs. More importantly, I work very hard. I was lucky to be featured in the film First Position, which followed six dancers preparing for the Youth America Grand Prix, a competition for places at élite ballet schools. That helped me to get a place at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School and it also meant I was seen by different directors. The director of the junior company of the Dutch National Ballet knew of me. I spent a year there before joining the main company.

  I was stigmatised as a child and I had to grow up very fast. I couldn’t show my emotions. Being adopted showed me that it was OK to be weak sometimes, that weakness can also be a kind of strength. Dancing can be very painful and exhausting, which is why it’s so important to have my family. My parents were able to convince me that all the people I love are not going to die and that, even when they do die, their love will always stay with me. They also made me see that it is OK to be different and to stand out. My sister Mia is a part of what I do every day and she and the rest of my family have helped me to appreciate a number of important things – it is possible for things to get better; it is a mistake to hold on to the past; you should laugh when you can; and you should look forward to the future.

  Michaela’s Object

  A pair of silver earrings set with moonstones that belonged to my mother. She used to let me wear them on special occasions, and when I left home for the Netherlands, she gave them to me to keep. They were a gift from my father to my mother in the early years of their marriage. He bought them while on a business trip to the Netherlands. By passing them on to me, my mother made me feel truly loved and protected by both of my parents. Since earliest times, the moonstone has been considered an amulet for travellers and a path to wisdom. When I wear the earrings, I know they once dangled from my mother’s ears. She is a very strong and wise person and I feel her strength and wisdom is transferred to me.

  MICHAELA DEPRINCE

  Ballet dancer, grand sujet, Dutch National Ballet

  REBECCA ROOT

  Rebecca Root was born a boy. She trained as an actor at Mountview Academy of Theatre Arts in London. When she was in her 30s, she adopted a female name and lived as a woman before having gender reassignment surgery. Her acting career has spanned television, film, theatre and radio. In 2015 she starred in the BBC series Boy Meets Girl, and became the first transgender actor to be cast in a lead transgender role in a mainstream UK sitcom. She received an Attitude Award for her performance. Root also appears in the film The Danish Girl with Eddie Redmayne. Alongside her acting career, she works as a voice and speech teacher, specialising in vocal adaptation for trans clients.

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  On one level my childhood was unhappy because I was living as a boy and I wanted to live as a girl, but on another level I just got on with stuff. I realised that my parents weren’t going to let me live as a girl, not because they condemned it but because it just wasn’t the done thing in the 1970s.

  As I grew older, I understood that the comics and toys that I could play with were not the same as my sister’s. I realised that there was a difference in male and female and I thought, ‘I feel so wrong.’

  I wanted to live as a girl as soon as I was aware of anatomy, aged about three or four. I shared a bedroom with my older sister and she didn’t have that thing that I had and I didn’t have that thing that she had. And I wondered why. As I grew older, I understood that the comics and toys that I could play with were not the same as my sister’s. I realised that there was a difference in male and female and I thought, ‘I feel so wrong.’ It was around the time when you realise that you write with one hand better than the other. I am not likening transgender to being left- or right-handed but it’s one of those things that we have no real control over and, if you are forced to write with your right hand when you are left-handed, it feels wrong. It seems a crass analogy but I think it helps to simplify the nature of identifying with another gender.

  I would like to think that my teenaged self – I am reluctant to say ‘he’, but I suppose since I was presenting as male, it’s more convenient to say he – would be very proud that by being strong in the face of moments of enormous adversity and difficulty, I achieved my life goal to be the woman that I should have been. If I could give that teenager some advice I would say, ‘Do exactly the same as you did but do it a bit sooner.’ But that’s life. Some people move very quickly in their transition, and others take time. I was in my 30s.

  My parents love me unconditionally, as most parents do love their children. A prospective client was telling me about her parents, who are very anti her transition – they refuse to call her by her female name, don’t permit her to come to the house dressed in female clothes and wearing make-up. My mum and dad were brilliant but it was hard for them. As well as my new name, they had to wrap their heads around things like when we were out, I went to the same toilet as my mum.

  I’m not better than anybody else. I did it through sheer bloody-mindedness, because I refused to be beaten down or to give up.

  When you transition, there is a process akin to bereavement. But the nature of transitional bereavement is that the person you love is still here. I am still me. It’s just aspects of me that you will not see any longer and some people find that incredibly sad. My previous voice was a big part of me. I used to do voice-overs and many people found it an attractive sound, but it was totally inappropriate for my female gender presentation, so I had an operation on my vocal chords to change it. My family knew I had to do it but felt a sense of loss.

  Not every trans person has gender reassignment surgery. It’s not the be-all and end-all for some – but I wanted it and I had it. I was nervous, but it was just the kind of nervousness you have when approaching the first night of a play or your 40th birthday party. And of course I was asleep, so I didn’t feel anything. Afterwards it was a bit of an anti-climax. Having the surgery was really just another thing that happened. For me, changing my name on 3 June 2003, when I was 34, was when I made my big statement to the world, becaus
e I was saying, ‘This is who I am now.’ That moment was when I achieved my femaleness. But I made that statement very early on in my transition, so I still had some facial hair and was looking a bit male.

  When you transition, there is a process akin to bereavement. But the nature of transitional bereavement is that the person you love is still here. I am still me. It’s just aspects of me that you will not see any longer and some people find that incredibly sad.

  I am in a high-profile TV show and one of the few trans actors in the UK who is working at this level. I am not sure if that makes me a leader but it certainly gives me publicity and with that comes a sense that maybe I can inspire and say to anyone in a similar position, ‘You know, anything’s possible. Don’t give up hope, because if I can do it, anybody can.’ I’m not better than anybody else. I did it through sheer bloody-mindedness, because I refused to be beaten down or to give up.

  As an actor I would love to work at the National Theatre and do more film, TV and radio. I would like to continue to help trans people to find a voice that works for them and suits how they present to the world. I would like to further the conversation that we are having in the UK about gender identity, gender presentation and gender fluidity, and to continue opening up people’s hearts and minds to the knowledge that we are not freaks, we are not weird, we are just people who felt that they had to do something in their life to make themselves better. And the more people who see that, the less stigmatised my community will be.

  Rebecca’s Object

  An ash tree in my local park. The roots form a natural armchair where I like to sit and feel the tree supporting me. It’s not far from a well-used path, which makes me feel safe as, in the past, I’ve had stones thrown at me and once a guy attacked me with a dog-control device. I was early transition, so quite visible, and he took exception to my presence. He said that he didn’t want his children coming to this park if there were going to be freaks like me there. He had a bulldog on a chain and it was snarling and the guy said, ‘This is what I think of people like you,’ and he started zapping this device at me. I was more shocked than physically injured but it was a very upsetting experience and the police logged it as a hate crime. I have lived in the area for 25 years and the ash tree has always been a place where I can go to seek strength and be calm, sad, happy or reflective. It’s a totem for me.

  REBECCA ROOT

  Actor

  TAVI GEVINSON

  Tavi Gevinson started her fashion blog Style Rookie in 2008 when she was 11. By the age of 13, she was sitting front row at fashion shows alongside Anna Wintour. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Rookie, an online magazine primarily aimed at teenage girls, which she launched when she was 15. Rookie covers a wide variety of topics from a feminist perspective and is partly written by its readers. Tavi Gevinson was named one of the 25 most influential teens of 2014 by Time magazine. In 2014 she also starred in a critically acclaimed Broadway production This Is Our Youth.

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  I started my blog because my friend’s older sister had one and I became aware of this community of young people posting pictures. It felt like it wasn’t based on trends, or on gaining male approval, but on people who liked going to thrift shops to put outfits together. This was way before people could make a living out of fashion blogs – blogging wasn’t something people were getting a lot of attention for at the time. My goal was never to be some witty kid on the internet who could be a source of amusement for a day. I just kept trying to chronicle the world that I was building, a community of people who, if we’d been at the same school, would have been friends. People talk about how the internet can make us less connected, but there is also that aspect of people who can’t find connection to others elsewhere, whether that’s at school or in marginalised communities. That goes well beyond my hobby, which is being interested in fashion, and is why, with Rookie, I want to create a place where people can make real friendships.

  My mother is an artist and when I was little we were always making stuff so there was never any fear around creating different things – pictures, outfits – and it didn’t feel a big deal for me to share them. Perhaps that’s a part of being from a generation where everything is available instantly. I would get home from school, grab the tripod, go into the back yard and just do it. My parents were very supportive. They didn’t know anything about fashion, but they were glad I was happy.

  When I was 13, 14, the blog gave me access to a world that I would not otherwise have had access to. I lived in Oak Park, Illinois. No way would I have been able to see a fashion show by one of my favourite designers otherwise. I found myself in a position to enter that fantasy world and meet people I’d admired, who turned out to be really solid friends and mentors. The Rodarte sisters [Kate and Laura Mulleavy, founders of the Rodarte label] were the first people in the industry who emailed me. I met them and got to work with them. They were – and remain – very concerned with turning the dreams that they have for their work into reality. All the other stuff is peripheral. I just want the freedom to do what I want!

  I didn’t mind if people didn’t like my outfits, if people thought I looked weird. Fashion has a bad rap, about being shallow, about pleasing men, so I was happy I was wearing completely bizarre, unfashionable outfits.

  I was OK with challenging people, making people uncomfortable. I didn’t mind if people didn’t like my outfits, if people thought I looked weird. Fashion has a bad rap, about being shallow, about pleasing men, so I was happy I was wearing completely bizarre, unfashionable outfits. People could see this was someone celebrating fashion – but not some beautiful, sexualised model.

  On many of the fashion blogs I read, women talked about feminism freely. They removed the stigma around that word. For me, it wasn’t that feminism didn’t ever appeal, just that I didn’t know a lot about it. It felt like a movement of the past, something out of history. What changed things for me was seeing the word used casually among people I thought were cool. With my outfits and stuff, I was already interested in challenging people, in finding other ways of thinking, and I realised I had been a feminist before I ever identified as one.

  I was part of this community of young people, making things we were excited about, finding each other, and I felt there wasn’t much of a home base for us. I’d always loved putting together magazines – in fifth grade I put together a class newspaper – and, after a series of false starts, trying to get people to email me their stuff, I started talking on my blog about what an honest magazine for teen girls would look like. I had support from people who’d kept an eye on me, including Jane Pratt [founding editor of Sassy magazine]. An ad agency agreed to work for us before we’d even started, and well-known artists agreed to be interviewed.

  I want readers to know they’re already cool enough, smart enough, pretty enough.

  There are people whose jobs are dedicated to figuring out how teenagers feel. I thought I’d go straight to the source, not so they could be targeted by marketing companies, but so that young people could have a network to find each other. Being online, Rookie has never had to be beholden to advertisers. There is no reason for us to promote anything that feels out of line with our mission. I think I’ve done my job if people are inspired or entertained or feel more OK with themselves after seeing something on Rookie. I want readers to know they’re already cool enough, smart enough, pretty enough. It’s about supporting contributors so they feel free to make things that reflect how they really are. Then more people feel encouraged, and hopefully more people can have the very positive experience that I’ve had, in finding others you connect to through your writing and your work.

  We never tell people how to think or feel. We want to tell our readers that they already have all the answers. We want them to connect with the power they’ve always had in themselves, but possibly never knew about. If you want to do something, just do it! You have all the time in the world. You can start 80 new lives if you want. You have to try – and be open and ex
cited about failure because it teaches you a lot.

  My day is much better if I start out with writing. It lets me know I have something that’s just mine – and it also gets me out of my own head.

  The whole time I did my blog, I was also keeping journals. I wrote every day in high school, but didn’t show anyone. Even if I had a lot to learn, there was enough going on inside of my head to put down on paper, things I cared about a lot. That felt like enough reason to have a place in these worlds I was exploring. Even now my day is much better if I start out with writing. It lets me know I have something that’s just mine – and it also gets me out of my own head. You have to stay interested in the world and stay curious. Writing gives me confidence.

  Tavi’s Object

  A necklace in the shape of a moon that was given to me by Stevie Nicks. One of her songs is ‘Sisters of the Moon’, and she gives these necklaces to different women she knows – it’s this really special little secret. She gave me the necklace the first time I met her, backstage at a Fleetwood Mac show. I had talked about her in a TED Talk, summing up by saying, ‘Just be Stevie Nicks,’ and she invited me to the show and gave me the necklace. Her songs are so vulnerable and earnest and poetic, but so strong. She became so important to me in high school – and still is.

  TAVI GEVINSON

  Editor-in-chief of Rookie magazine, actor and writer

  LAURENE POWELL JOBS

  Laurene Powell Jobs is the founder and president of Emerson Collective, an organisation committed to the ideal that everyone ought to have the chance to live to their full potential. Key Emerson Collective projects include improving US schools, advocating for immigration reform, and collaborating with partners who are creating innovative ways to improve social and economic mobility. In 1997, she founded College Track, which partners with disadvantaged high-school students for success in college. She holds a BA and a BSE from the University of Pennsylvania and an MBA from the Stanford Graduate School of Business, and began her career in investment banking before starting a natural foods company. She was married to the late Steve Jobs, co-founder of the Apple technology company.