This Afro-Latina teen thinks the struggle for trans rights needs more voices
When Grace Dolan-Sandrino, now 16, was in middle school, she went to a summer camp in New York state that changed her life. She’d always felt like she was a little different from her classmates—from a young age, she identified as gay. But then she met a transgender girl in her boy’s cabin at summer camp, and something clicked.
“They were like, ‘I am a girl. A transgender girl.’ And then I realized that’s who I was,” she says, speaking from an empty office in her high school in Washington, DC She’s thoughtful and energetic over the phone. “It was a good feeling, and then it was kind of scary,” in part because school administrators didn’t even know what being transgender meant.
What followed was a frustrating process of getting the school acknowledge her gender identity and then support her transition, something that transgender students around the country struggle with, despite Title IX laws written to protect young people against discrimination on the basis of sex. Getting administrators’ support is already a challenge, but with the Trump administration’s gutting of federal guidelines instructing schools to to support their trans students, it could get much worse.
“Having two different heritages, two different life experiences in my house really gave me a well-rounded view of the world.” — Grace Dolan-Sandrino
Trans students, their parents, and advocates worry the rollback could give schools an excuse not to acknowledge trans students or provide for their needs, a particularly daunting challenge for young people coming out at a time when they’re navigating the vulnerability and awkwardness that goes along with adolescence—and that’s on top of well-founded concerns about their physical safety.
It’s still very dangerous to be trans in America, and Dolan-Sandrino, as a woman of color, is statistically even more likely to be at risk. Born to a white mother from Massachusetts and a Cuban–African father who worked the sugar cane fields in Cuba, she says “having two different heritages, two different life experiences in my house really gave me a well-rounded view of the world.” And unlike many young people seeking to transition, she was lucky to have her mother’s support.
At first, says Dolan-Sandrino, school administrators at her Maryland middle school told her it would be too “disruptive” for her to transition. She did it anyway. Shortly after, photos of her body post-transition were leaked by a student. “It was terrible,” she says, but at that point, “I was like, everybody already knows who I am. So I’m going to live my truth.”
Now she’s at a high school in D. C., where her mother chose to enroll her specifically because state laws explicitly prohibit discrimination on the basis of gender identity, even though it means she has to commute from Maryland every day. The staff and her student identification use the feminine gender pronouns she identifies with, and she is allowed to use the girls’ bathroom and changing facilities. For the first two years of high school, she felt she didn’t ever need to discuss her gender identity at school.
And then last summer, she stood in front of a crowd of educators at a White House summit for LGBTQ youth and told them about her experience as a young trans woman of color. That, she says, was a turning point—it’s when she realized her advocacy “was going to be more powerful, and could reach more people, if it had a face to it.”
Since then, she’s adapted an essay she wrote about black trans lives for Black Enterprise magazine into a theatre piece, which she performed with Yo-Yo Ma for the Kennedy Center, and started working with advocacy and leadership groups like the Aspen Institute and Gender Spectrum.