We were lucky to catch up with Madeline Stump recently and have shared our conversation below.
Madeline, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?
I grew up in a town just outside of Columbus, Ohio. At the time, it was somewhere between rural and suburban, but growing fast. Very white-picket-fence/white and wealthy type of area. To this day, the town prizes itself as among the greatest areas in Ohio to “raise a family”. Or more accurately a very specific type of family….In this town, I grew up as an extremely closeted transgender girl. I won’t go into every detail of my childhood, except to mention one particularly risky/life-changing moment: the day I came out publicly as transgender.
The precise day I came out publicly as trans was January 6, 2015, about ten and a half years ago now, as I’m writing this piece. I had informed a few of my teachers the day before that that next day and henceforth, I would be attending our high school under my then new name: Madeline, chosen in honor of a close friend at the time who had supported me in my transness for many years by that point, beginning well before either of us truly knew words to accurately describe who I was, what my gender was and is.
That morning, I woke up, prepared my backpack for my next day of school, and for the first time in my life, picked out my first dress to wear to school, to present myself to the world anew. A phoenix rising from her former self. Looking back, my first dress was honestly hideous. In pictures, I look more like I’ve dressed up as Wednesday Addams for Halloween than anything else. Not to mention my garish makeup given my then very limited practice with makeup. But I digress.
So as I arrived at school, walking in beside my visibly anxious twin brother who had driven us there, I received stares, some confusion, and others’ contempt. But I held my head high as best I could.
To make a long story short, over the next several days, I faced harassment by teachers, alumni, parents, and even other students. I read death threats and rape threats posted anonymously about me online; was segregated to the school’s only “gender-inclusive” (teacher’s) restroom, on the opposite of the school from my classes after some parents called to complain to our principal that I was using the girl’s restroom; I faced constant misgendering and deadnaming from teachers and my peers, often intentionally and maliciously so; etc.
But despite all of the harassment I received for being publicly trans, I’ve never regretted that moment in the time since. Coming out as trans amongst a thoroughly conservative, transphobic school and community, particularly in such a prideful and unapologetic manner, was certainly the bravest thing I’ve ever done. Because I knew exactly what kinds of vitriol were heading my way that early morning of January 6, 2015. And I did it anyway.
Also worth noting is that soon following my public coming out, several other trans students also came out at our school and joined the GSA I ran at the time. Effectively, they saw me publicly being myself and realized that if I could do it, so could they. So for my own bravery and that of the many trans people who have come before and will follow me, I am tremendously proud to call myself trans.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
Presently, beyond my primary job, I work as an independent health equity/health justice consultant, particularly although not exclusively focusing on transgender, disabled, and queer people, communities, and the issues relevant to us.
I’ve been a keynote speaker at a conference for LGBT+ STEM professionals; I’ve sat on numerous panels; I’ve had my writings published in a socially aware STEM magazine, in an encyclopedia on transgender studies, and for an online academic series on the intersections of queer, trans, and disability studies; I was selected to be a peer reviewer for a major academic journal publication on the intersections of trans and disability studies (very recently released as of this writing); I’ve been recognized as a nationally talented scholar and activist on subjects relevant to reproductive health, policy, and justice; I’ve participated in competitive fellowships ranging from policies affecting homeless transgender communities to programming supportive of autistic trans people; and I’ve presented more self-designed trainings/lectures , relevant to a wide variety of health justice subjects, than I could count.
And if there’s a subject in or even beyond my wheelhouse that I’m not already well versed on, I’m always interested in putting in the time to research through my gaps in knowledge, to ensure that whatever product (speech, presentation, article, etc) requested of me is the absolute best it can be.
Any stories or insights that might help us understand how you’ve built such a strong reputation?
I believe that, at the end of the day, I have the professional reputation I have for primarily two reasons:
1. I’m white and grew up wealthy; I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t first and foremost acknowledge the substantial advantage that being white and having grown up with access to wealth has allowed me throughout my life within a broader context of being a US citizen. Yes, I’ve faced many hurdles throughout my life so far, most of them relating directly to long-standing systemic and interpersonal prejudices against me as a multiply disabled trans woman; but I’ve also spent most of my childhood with both of my biological parents, I attended great K-12 schools, I received both my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees, and on and on.
2. I dedicate an inordinate quantity of my free time every day to keeping up with the most recent developments in and related to my fields of specialization. I am frequently consuming new, relevant nonfiction (audio)books and articles; I work to remain constantly informed of and frequently involved in advocacy efforts and cultural events happening in my local area; I keep myself informed on federal, state, and local policy developments relevant to marginalized communities and issues of health justice broadly; etc. I am constantly attending local and far-reaching events relevant to my specializations to hear from other “certified” experts, community members and leaders, and all sorts in between. Plus when seeking out new information on a subject I am not already well versed in, I always listen to and learn from a wide variety of sources, typically centering on those whose knowledge comes from direct experiences. In short, I keep myself as informed as I can on all things relevant and related to my specialties; and if I have questions about a particular subject, I actively seek out relevant leaders for potential answers.
Have any books or other resources had a big impact on you?
As a solo consultant, I don’t have a tremendous amount in the way of advice/resources for how best to manage/supervise employees, however I would like to present here a collection of five books which have most shaped me and how I practice health justice consulting:
Healing Justice Lineages: Dreaming At the Crossroads of Liberation, Collective Care, and Safety by Cara Page and Erica Woodland
Healing Justice Lineages has provided me with a thorough history of the development of healing justice, as a framework and practice derived particularly through insights and experiences of BIPOC, Trans, Queer, and Disabled healing practitioners and leaders residing in the Southern US. This book affirmed and brought together much of what I had at that point already understood about healing justice, also adding to my understanding a more complete history of how and why healing justice came to be what it is today.
Black Disability Politics by Sami Schalk
Black Disability Politics is brilliant for the incredible ways Schalk critically analyzes key histories of health and disability which are most relevant to Black American communities. In order to accomplish this, she applies Queer, Disability, and Black Feminist methods of critical analysis and research. As such, this book taught me how to more accurately and effectively analyze, understand, and instruct on health and disability through applying methods and frameworks developed directly by those individuals and communities most directly subjugated over generations under Western medical and health industries.
Maladies of Empire: How Colonialism, Slavery, and War Transformed Medicine by Jim Downs
In my Bachelor’s and Master’s courses on public health, it was largely insisted that our field began with English physician John Snow “single-handedly” determining the source of a Cholera outbreak in London in 1854. In Maladies of Empire, Downs questions this narrative, arguing instead that public health/epidemiology began as early as 1756, primarily through study of the spread of disease through the bodies of those most exploited, colonized, enslaved, and otherwise subjugated under British and US global rule. As such, this book has been deeply instructive to me as a health justice consultant on methods for critically questioning my own and others’ assumptions and lessons learned about the histories and ethics of medicine, public health, healing, and care broadly.
The Apothecary’s Wife: The Hidden History of Medicine and How It Became a Commodity by Karen Bloom Gevirtz
The Apothecary’s Wife taught me essential knowledge of why and how Western biomedicine has become largely incomprehensible and financially inaccessible to the public, and a commodity held under the near exclusive purview of those most privileged within Western society. Importantly, according to Gevirtz, this did not occur by mere happenstance of history. Rather, Western biomedicine was intentionally developed apart from non-professionalized healing practices in order to prioritize maximizing the profit of the medical industry over the good health and wellbeing of the broader public. As a health justice consultant, knowing this history allows me to better instruct others on why and how the Western biomedical industry became what it is today, as well as what to do about its current state.
Carte Blanche: The Erosion of Medical Consent by Harriet A. Washington
Being disabled and trans myself, I have experienced first-hand the tremendous personal loss of having one’s autonomy and consent taken by a trusted medical practitioner. As well as how incredibly healing it can be to receive care from medical practitioners who do respect my rights to consent and autonomy. As such, Carte Blanche has been deeply instructive to me of the dire importance of respect for patients’ rights to respect, consent, and autonomy from their medical practitioners, and why it is essential to fight for these rights when denied to patients.
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