Having been a college professor for over four decades across various institutions, I’ve had the privilege to witness the powerful transformation young people undergo during their university years. This phase usually involves stepping out of their teenage years and stepping into the world of adulthood. For many, it’s a time to start thinking independently among their peers and to embrace new ideas and experiences that high school never introduced them to. My wife, who also teaches at a university, frequently shares anecdotes about her religious students from the South encountering French existentialism for the first time. They would often wonder how to explain these novel concepts to their parents. Similarly, my students have sometimes asked me to help articulate the philosophies they’ve been exploring or the historical perspectives they’ve gained to their families. It’s a significant transition for young individuals, which is precisely what it should be.
For some, this period of change extends to personal identity, leading them to reevaluate who they are. For a few, this means recognizing themselves as having a different gender identity from the one they were assigned at birth. Teaching these students has been incredibly rewarding. It’s inspiring to engage with someone experiencing what we in higher education aim for—genuine transformation.
A few years ago, a young trans man approached me, eager to explore how transgender individuals are depicted in popular culture. Though a straight white male of a certain era, I agreed to guide a tutorial on this topic because of my background in film studies and philosophy. Together, we delved into this space.
Each week, B. and I would meet to discuss a film, TV show, or play. While I leaned toward classics, he was keen on contemporary works. We struck a balance and ended up having a fruitful learning journey about identity and transformation.
Initially, I was apprehensive about possibly saying something wrong that might offend him. However, he reassured me with a laugh, admitting that he was also navigating his own path. We tackled questions about what it means to feel like you’ve always been in the wrong body and how this contrasts with someone suddenly embracing a new identity. What aspect of self remains post-transition? Is it ever complete? These questions, typically reserved for philosophical debate, found new meaning in our discussions.
The tutorial inspired further conversations with him and other students about how one “performs” identity in public. We explored how much of our self-perception is shaped by others’ acceptance or rejection. Conversations about recognition and acknowledgment varied from serious to humorous, touching upon topics like drag and burlesque, where expression can be freeing. While makeup may eventually come off, the lessons learned from the experience linger. B.’s insights challenged the conventional discussions of nature, convention, and authenticity in politics, for which I am grateful.
I was equally appreciative when E., another student, offered a “trans reading” of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” during a Great Books course. E. drew parallels between the creature’s hybrid nature and resistance to categorization with the trans experience. Dr. Frankenstein’s rejection resonated with feelings of societal exclusion. This bold perspective sparked further dialogue in class and earned E. recognition for their courage.
Years ago, a student, C., initially resisted my “Virtue and Vice” course, particularly the focus on the Western canon. Yet, as the course progressed, they began connecting with concepts like Aristotle’s eudaemonia, reflecting on their journey toward self-fulfillment. C. pursued a radically queer identity but came to realize the value of cultivating character virtues necessary for personal growth. While they may not have developed a love for the Western classics, they acknowledged these texts’ depth in addressing thought-provoking questions.
My interactions with trans students have profoundly shaped my understanding of transformation, identity, nature, convention, character, and performance.
Reflecting on the current hostility faced by my trans students and colleagues due to political rhetoric, I recall former Attorney General Loretta Lynch’s compassionate words from 2016, assuring trans individuals they were seen, supported, and protected. I first heard those words alongside my colleague, Jenny Boylan, who was visibly moved. Such government recognition and empathy offered much-needed reassurance. Today, as these sentiments feel increasingly distant, standing with trans communities is more crucial than ever.
Michael S. Roth, president of Wesleyan University, authored “Safe Enough Spaces: A Pragmatist’s Approach to Inclusion, Free Speech, and Political Correctness on College Campuses” and “The Student: A Short History.”
