A mother and son reflect on gender

My journey, my identity: theater as refuge

By Seth Coppens

I’m 3 years old. I’m at summer theater camp, and it’s bathroom time. The girls’ is full, so my counselor shows me to the boys’. He points out an empty stall, and makes sure I get to it okay. That small act of kindness, one of my earliest childhood memories, would be illegal in Ohio today with the current bathroom ban on all schools restricting access based on assigned sex at birth. But back then I just finished my business and went about my day, playing theater games with my friends.

Eight years later, I played Scout in a production of “To Kill A Mockingbird” at Perseverance Theatre in Juneau, Alaska. I had auditioned for the role before coming out as a trans boy, but by the time rehearsals rolled around, I was going by my new name and pronouns. I kept my hair at jaw-length, and wore a backwards ballcap to keep it out of my face. Meanwhile, my stepdad had just been diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. While these two life-changing events enveloped me at home, in the rehearsal room I could be present and at peace in my day-to-day. My castmates and director supported me in my transition as well as my grief, and while I was still playing Scout as a girl character, as conceived by Harper Lee, I felt affirmed in my identity as a trans actor. 

Fast forward to 2021. I’m in high school taking a playwriting class, and my teacher emails me: “You can’t write exclusively about transgender people and be successful.” While I understand the intention behind this comment was to get me to branch out, what it said to me was “The world doesn’t want to hear about trans people.” I also found it difficult to incorporate this feedback into my work, as writing plays is often deeply personal to the playwright’s point of view. As a trans playwright, I can’t switch off my transness in order for my plays to be more marketable for cisgender audiences. Ultimately, I did not heed my teacher’s advice, and we did not speak of it again for the rest of the school year.

Today, as a junior at Carnegie Mellon University studying theater directing, I continue to work from my own (trans) perspective, finding new ways to interpret classics while dreaming up new stories. More importantly, I dedicate myself towards uplifting the most vulnerable people in my community: trans youth. I was incredibly lucky to grow up in an atmosphere of general acceptance during my transition, but a lot of trans kids in Cincinnati today do not have that same kind of support. 

Trans kids need a creative outlet, they need to see themselves represented truthfully in media and onstage, and they need their community to foster their strengths. Every summer I work at Cincinnati Shakespeare Company’s theater camp, where kids of all identities are accepted. The students can change their pronouns and names every day if they want to, noting it on their nametags; they can focus on art and creative expression, and not worry about explaining or defending their identity. I want every young person, wherever they are on the path to finding themselves, to experience that freedom and sense of belonging. In the face of political polarization, Cincinnati’s arts organizations can help us overcome our differences by giving every child, every family, a safe place to play. 

Artists of historically marginalized identities need your support, especially those who are Black, trans and/or disabled. Families of all identities and income levels need access to theater and arts education as a human right. Breaking down financial barriers is one way cultural organizations in Cincinnati can truly strive for inclusion and community engagement across all neighborhoods. With a focus on accessibility, the uplifting of diverse perspectives is bound to follow. 

We need to keep fighting against the hateful rhetoric and anti-trans legislation that’s taken over so much of the country, making states like Ohio unsafe places for me and my peers. New research from the American Psychological Association shows rising rates of depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts among LGBTQ+ youth, who are also finding it harder to get mental health help when they need it. 

“These young people report they are being bullied, discriminated against, and debated about by politicians simply for being themselves,” said Jaymes Black, CEO of The Trevor Project. But, he adds, “when LGBTQ+ young people report they have welcoming and supportive communities, spaces, and people in their lives, their risk for attempting suicide lowers significantly. As adults and allies, this is our call to action: We must continue to vocally and visibly show the LGBTQ+ young people in our lives that they belong, exactly as they are.” 

For me, theater has been that lifeline – just as my transness has made me a stronger theater artist. 

I’m deeply hopeful, both for the future of theater and the resilience of my community. I believe in the power of live performance to build empathy, to foster humanity, and to show us a better world. I need you, whether you’re an individual who supports the arts or you’re part of a larger organization, to stand with trans youth in our struggle to make our voices heard and celebrated.

Seth Coppens (they/he) is a trans artist from Cincinnati, where he graduated from the School for Creative and Performing Arts. He’s currently studying Directing at Carnegie Mellon University. Seth has written plays produced by Perseverance Theatre in Juneau, Alaska, and has participated in his school’s student-led Playground Festival as both a director and playwright. In the summer, he’s a counselor and teaching artist at Cincinnati Shakespeare Company. Seth finds profound inspiration in their local community, and seeks to bring theatre back to the masses.

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A parent’s point of view

By Julie Coppens

Seth came out as his true self at a young age (11), in a much more accepting time and place: Juneau, Alaska, where we lived for seven years before moving back to Cincinnati as Seth was starting high school. We were able to connect quickly with LGBTQ-affirming educators, therapists, pediatricians and peers who understood what Seth was going through and who supported us on the journey. 

But it’s been a scary decade since then, as a lot of far-right politicians have found anti-trans hate a handy distraction from the kinds of issues American voters should be focused on. They know a lot of us are still uncomfortable with gender diversity, along with other forms of social progress, and instead of promoting greater understanding and acceptance of this tiny minority (roughly one percent of Ohioans identify as transgender, according to the latest data analysis by the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law), they’ve been busy exploiting that discomfort and prejudice for their own gain, while stripping transgender citizens of their basic human rights. 

Take bathroom bans. When your own kid comes home from school hyperventilating and sobbing after being bullied for going to pee somewhere he thought was safe … you start to wonder why some of our elected officials are prioritizing these laws over things that might actually help our kids live, learn and thrive.  

Are you as exhausted by all of this crap as we are? Ready to stand up in support of your LGBTQ loved ones, friends and neighbors? Here are a few things you can do.

Tune out the noise. So much of the “news” around trans issues is misleading, hateful or simply false. Learn how to spot anti-trans propaganda in the wild, ask yourself why a particular image or message is making the rounds and do your best to shut it down. Listen instead to trans voices, speaking their own truth. Good on you for reading this article!

Educate yourself. Organizations like Advocates for Trans Equality (transequality.org) and TransOhio Inc. (transohio.org) are a good starting point. Seek out publications like The Advocate (advocate.com), The Buckeye Flame (thebuckeyeflame.com), and Erin In The Morning on Substack, to learn about anti-trans legislation and be a more informed voter.

Consider your own “gender-affirming care.” We all do lots of things to feel more comfortable and confident in how we present ourselves, gender-wise. Examining my own girlie habits like waxing, tweezing, wearing Spanx, taking hormones after menopause, etc., helped me understand and support Seth’s gender-affirming choices.

Still don’t get it? That’s okay. We don’t have to understand everything about our fellow humans in order to feel compassion for them, and to want them to be able to safely exist in our society. That should be the bare minimum.

Julie Coppens is longtime arts journalist and editor, theater-maker, teaching artist, youth advocate and nonprofit organization manager.