Oval Hall, Presidential Office, Riverfort
"Alright folks, the President is busy getting dressed. Please settle down and wait for a few more minutes, and we apologise for the delay," a secretary announced on the podium, then she retreated downstage to chat some more with her colleagues.
「喂,你講『dressed』果下正喎,你知啦,dressed呀嘛」 ("Hey, that 'dressed' was golden. You know, dressed.) laughed one of the colleagues. In English, perhaps, their conversation would be intercepted. But in Cantonese, they wagered that nobody would know, not until the President actually went to the podium, who, meanwhile, is perfecting the makeup to be worn on stage.
Finally, a few minutes later, the President opens the doors and walked in. But then the crowd erupted into chaos, since what they saw was not the 38-year-old "Mr. President" that they wanted to see, but rather a younger-seeming lady. However, on her chest bore the same set of medals as the president the expected - a Medal of Bravery (Bronze), and a Silver Bauhinia Star. With the crowd of reporters exploding into chatter as that's not the same person as they expected. Sure, the height and physique looked roughly the same, and so are her badges - but they were expecting a man, not a woman. She was clad in an elegant black dress, and a nice white blazer - not the kind of clothes a man would wear, at any rate to an official venue like so.
Ignoring the chattering, she walked up to the lectern, and retrieved a heavy wooden paperweight. However, that once again surprised the journalists, and no doubt people watching on the internet.
The paperweight faced the reporters, but the name engraved read something unexpected. It read
HANNAH YOUNG SMITH
She tapped the microphone like the president the reporters knew all too well, to make sure it works, then started speaking. In a womanly, though at times weak voice, she delivers a speech in full, taking sips of water to rest.
Diplomatic friends, friends of the press, and fellow citizens,
I offer my most sincere apologies if I caused too much confusion. The reason I invited you here is to inform you of my identity. In other words, I am holding this press conference to come out. To come out, I believe, for someone vested as much power as I am, is not just a personal affair - to come out is to empower those who are like me, who are transgender, who are queer, who have questioned their identity. Today, by coming out, I believe that I can empower them - let them know that their struggles are real, let them know that their ability is not any bit diminished, let them know... they're not "abnormal" or "ill" or anything people tell them.
I would like to come out today as a transgender woman. As a transgender woman, then, I would prefer to be named "Hannah", and referred to as "Madam President". Of course, if you're used to avoiding gendered words when talking about me - go ahead. But please, this is my request, please respect my identity. Some of the journalist friends in this venue here are not exactly friendly to my identity - whom I sympathise and hope to educate - but regardless of your views, identities are not to be politicised. That one is not born a woman, but becomes a woman - and the same for men, or non-binary people, or any identities for that matter.
I remember vividly, that I have struggled with my identity since a young age. I remember wanting to wear dresses, wanting to grow my hair out, wanting to become a girl. It was not an easy way to be on - not when you were bullied, called slurs, and even excluded from entire friend groups - far from it. When some conservatives talk about identity politics nowadays, they talk about how 'being transgender is a choice', or 'being gay is a choice' - you get the point. But for me, who actually experienced life as a transgender person, I would definitely not have chosen being who I am if I were ever given the choice. Your identity, and your attraction, are every bit as innate as your sex - but every bit separate from each other.
But for as long as I remember, I have repressed my gender identity. I remember the last time I wore anything remotely feminine to school - it was in grade 1. I remember being bullied again. This time, it was not just mean words and pranks, those I were desensitised. This time, it was physical. I remember being beaten, then sent to the first aid station, only for the nurse to tell me to stop. Being just a naive 6-year-old, I obliged, picking out only the most masculine of clothes and banishing my true self to god-knows-where. My parents, too, did not support me - they called me a pervert, a deviant, a gender-bender, that I didn't even manage to discover my gender until I went to university.
In university, thankfully, I found a group of friends, friends who were queer, and friends who were allies. We started the QSA, the first of its kind in Nacrad. It was, in many ways, a passion project of us - to find a safe place amongst ourselves, and to offer one to our fellow classmates. This belief holds true today, 20 years later - This time, the safe space is not only a small room in the edge of the Student Union building. This time, the safe space is the entire nation. This time, the safe space is our homes, our campuses, our workplaces.
It was only 5 years ago that I finally stopped repressing myself - that I accepted myself first. But I was too scared to come out then - I had just been elected, and I didn't know what was the best political decision, or if my cabinet would even accept me. But regardless, I went to seek help and received it, a priviliege that not all of us have. But what I'm trying to say, here, is that there is no 'too late' to accept yourself. The only thing that matters is that you're willing to accept yourself first. And only then can you seek help.
And for everywhere to be a safe space so that everyone who needs it can seek help, I wager that its founder must also feel safe. And thanks to all of you who agree with me and agree, frankly, to etiquette, for making this wish come true.
But at the end of the day, Nacrad would never be the perfect safe space - I never claimed it to be one. The best we can do, is to make it a little better. And that, starts with respecting people's identities. Thank you so much for coming, and sorry for keeping you waiting.