Hope is a discipline: Let’s use it to change bad Ohio policy [COMMENTARY]

We are under attack. The religious right has been open about their intentions for a long time. Their goal is removing Queer people from visibility in society; they want us to all go away. 

Transgender people are the canary in the coal mine – the smallest and most vulnerable group, the least understood and most easily attacked. But we are not the endgame, any more than overturning Roe was the endgame on reproductive choice. The right’s goal is repressive control and elimination of all who refuse to conform.

So, what do we do? Give up? Hide? Run? Surrender?

If you know me, you know I have a few tattoos, including a phrase on my left arm and another on my right.

The tattoo on the left reads “Hope Is a Discipline.” Hope is a verb, an action word. Merriam-Webster says it means to cherish a desire with anticipation; to expect with confidence. Cherish means to entertain or harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely.

Hope is not passive or optional or fragile. It lives deep in our core, held with resolve. Hope calls for action based on confident expectation. I must hope – choose hope, hold to hope, be cold-blooded about hope – if I am going to survive and make a difference.

‘Our challenge is to have a voice’

On my right arm is the phrase “Room Where it Happens,” the title of a song from the award-winning musical Hamilton. The song tells us that some of Alexander Hamilton’s most important political wins came because he was in the rooms where the decisions were made, and his voice was clearly heard.

Recently, a wise colleague pointed out that House Bill 68 is going to happen and the Department of Health regulations are going to happen. Our challenge is to have a voice in deciding how they will be implemented, what they will mean in practical terms of care.

The original proposal for the Ohio Department of Health and the Ohio Mental Health and Addictions Services regulations was quite horrible. When they asked for public comment over 4,000 people responded, including many health care providers involved in transgender care.

ODH leadership also had several listening sessions with teams from gender clinics. I work in an LGBTQ+ clinic; I was in the room when one of those meetings happened. ODH leaders paid attention, took notes, asked thoughtful questions and read the thousands of comments.

The second release was quite different from the first. Much of the harmful language was removed. They are no longer trying to regulate adult care; they’ve changed limitations and requirements on minor care. It isn’t perfect, but it is a vast improvement. Further comments are being submitted and we expect the final version to be better. Being in the room, having a voice at the table, makes a difference. That cannot happen without hope.

The latest round of a long war

Medical providers from various gender clinics are also delivering input about HB68, the law aimed at eliminating healthcare for transgender minors. While the law is set, in places it is so ambiguously worded that we can have influence on how it is applied. To help shape it we must be in the room with a voice at the table. We can’t do that from a place of despair or resignation or desperation. It must come from a place of resolute hope that change can happen.

Yes, I have bad moments of distress, even bad hours and bad days. I acknowledge those  feelings of fear and futility and depression. I feel them, let them pass and go back to standing firmly on the expectations of hope.

I am old enough to remember when the attacks they are using today against transgender people were used against gay men and lesbians. This is a long war with many battles and skirmishes. We are in the latest round. Expect more attacks, more ugly rhetoric, more hysteria. Know it is coming and hold hope as a discipline. Things may be hard. We will win. 🔥