When Rachel Amber Leigh sits down for the interview, the first thing she does is pull out a paper with an official stamp on it. The document verifies her gender and name change and is proof of what she has been fighting for her entire life.
The right to be herself.
Transgender rights are protected by the federal government, but the implication is still working its way through the social fabric.
A recent example is her rough start at a local women’s shelter.
“I had to fight every day for acceptance. The first night I was there I was in the bathroom. I had taken my wig off, I was taking my makeup off and this girl walks into the bathroom and says, ‘Oh my God, there’s a man in the bathroom!’
“Staff came up and they asked, ‘Do you stay here?’ And I said, ‘Yes, yes I do.’ The staff pulled me aside and said, ‘While you’re here, you’re going to have to wear your wig all the time.’ My advocate made short work of that and told me I didn’t have to.
“I had to fight for acceptance among the community. It was a struggle. I was sitting in corners by myself. I didn’t really talk to anybody. But then I started making friends and it became easier.
“That’s the main reason I carry around my paperwork. Just in case there’s ever a problem.”
Rachel was born and raised in Portland and knew she was female when she was 5.
“Every time I tried to say something, it would lead to severe beatings. That pretty much went on until I was 15 or 16. At that point I left it in the closet to be what society thinks I should be. That’s when my depression started.”
Rachel’s parents chose a college major for her. When she flunked out in her last semester, she said, they kicked her out of the house and she was homeless for a short time before moving into an apartment.
“I finally felt free,” Rachel said. “I was able to dress as a woman and go around town and be comfortable with who I am. It was exhilarating. Then I ended up meeting a woman who wasn’t comfortable with it, and I was really in love with her. So I put it back in the closet, and we were married for almost 10 years.”
That marriage ended, and Rachel went through another cycle of homelessness, college and a second marriage.
“After my fifth failed suicide attempt, I finally asked for help,” she said.
“It was during the second (inpatient stay) that I stood up in the group and I said with a loud, proud voice: ‘This is who I am. I’m proud of who I am, and nobody’s going to take that away from me.’
“That was one of the best days of my life.”
Shortly after she came out, Rachel said, her second wife kicked her out of their home. But Rachel persevered to legitimize her gender status and received her paperwork last year.
“I fought for a long time to be recognized as female. I do have to go around and correct people when they say, ‘Sir.’ I tell them, ‘No, I’m female.’ It does upset me, and I know it shouldn’t because not everybody knows.
“I’m female no matter how I dress, and people address me as such. It doesn’t matter if I’m just wearing jeans or a t-shirt or if I’m wearing a dress. I’m female.
“But I’ve noticed a big change. We’re more welcome into women’s clothing stores. Where before, the only way you could get in was if there were no other customers. Now we’re free to just walk in and shop with everybody else.”
Rachel joined Street Roots when vendor Krystal Jordan introduced her to the newspaper office.
“Krystal actually stays over at the shelter as well,” Rachel said. “At Street Roots, I love the friendship, the camaraderie.”
Rachel would like to become a transgender advocate.
“When you have to keep your true self hidden from the world, it’s a huge pain. It leads to depression, and it’s such a deep depression that you want to kill yourself. But I’m a survivor, and I fought.
“And now I want to fight for others that are going through the same thing.
“I want to stand up and say, ‘You’re not alone. I’m here to help.’”