The Bathroom Bill

Oh brave Indiana, that hath such straight white cis men in it.

This legislative session, State Senator Jim Tomes introduced (and four other white men authored) SB 35, which I will term “The Bathroom Bill”. The bill is a not-even-close-to-subtle tool to discriminate against the transgender community. If passed, it will produce consequences unforeseen by these myopic state senators, and require some embarrassing judgement calls on the part of the authorities.

The Bathroom Bill has two main parts. Part one forces students to use the “single-sex facilities” at school that conform to the gender they were assigned at birth. Think bathrooms and locker rooms. Because junior high gym class isn’t awkward enough. Part two, for adults, criminalizes those who “knowingly or intentionally” (with malice of forethought?!) enter a bathroom for the gender they were not assigned at birth.

The rationale ascribed to such legislation is that our vulnerable women need their privacy protected from predatory men who will play trans for the chance to ogle, say, a female Colts fan washing her hands between quarters at Lucas Oil Stadium. I’m not sure if Sen. Tomes or his colleagues have ever visited a public ladies room (they’d better soon, before it’s illegal), but there are no squatty urinals or open pits: every toilet is protected by stall walls.

The Bathroom Bill doesn’t actually require ogling for its punitive provisions to kick in: merely bringing your Y chromosome into the ladies’ is enough to earn you a $5000 fine and a year in jail. It’s the execution of this proposed law that concerns me the most–who enforces it? How will the proper authorities be alerted?

Now I don’t plan to check out the men’s room anytime soon. I’m a cisgender woman, and I feel comfortable using the women’s room. Problem is, I don’t always look like a cis woman. Most warm-weather days, outside of work, I look like this:

Every time I head toward a public restroom dressed as my typical self, I brace myself for the reaction I’ll encounter. Because I’ve encountered plenty of reaction before. The worst is when a young child is there with his or her mother (yes, “his or her”…irony), and the child pipes up, “Mommy, there’s a boy in the bathroom! Mommy, that’s a boy!”

The child’s warning to his/her mother stings, but I ease the discomfort by remembering the child has likely just begun to see the world as a gendered place–learning how to assign names (or not) is a stage of development (a stage that, sadly, fails to follow all of us into adulthood). I also grin inwardly at having set up Mommy for a future conversation on heteronormative gender presentation.

Coming face to face with “grown-ups” in the loo can be just as embarrassing as the toddler’s accusations. Surprise at my appearance gives way to recognition, then morphs into disapproval. If the Bathroom Bill becomes law, will I have to worry whether a confused or scornful fellow bathroom patron (matron?) will whip out her cell phone and call the cops? Will security be posted at the bathroom door? How will I prove I belong there?

Still, as awkward as my restroom visits are, they’re nothing compared to the collective mortification that will ensue if this bill is passed into law. Imagine a muscular, bearded man walking into the women’s room because he has two X chromosomes. Or a woman passing the urinals on her way to a stall, just because she was assigned “boy” at birth. How will this make the community safer? Based on traditional perceptions in our gendered culture, I believe it will embarrass and anger trans men and cis women alike in the ladies’ room, and flat out endanger the lives of trans women in the men’s if they attempt to comply with this ridiculous statute.