Changing Perspectives... 
on Gender

I’m slowly catching up on the medical drama The Pitt. In season 1, there is an episode where a transgender patient, Tasha Cordera, was treated for a routine health issue. Her gender was not the plot point. There was no tragic backstory or struggle for acceptance. Instead, the show highlighted a simple, powerful act: a nurse noticed that her medical chart was incorrect and updated it to reflect Tasha’s correct pronouns.

This is so powerful, but so rare. In media and advertising, we over-index on the narrative drama of the struggle of queer people because it creates a quick, high-stakes narrative for a thirty-second ad. While this might be effective for immediate recall, it relies on stereotypes that do a disservice to our actual lives. We are more than our challenges.

And on the other end of the spectrum, artists like Ethel Cain use their platforms to show their trans bodies in ways that defy traditional expectations of what a woman or a transgender person is meant to be. Both incredibly vulnerable, while also a powerful rejection of the need to be palatable to others.

For true visibility, we need both: the quiet updating of a medical chart and the loud, proud declaration of identity.

For many queer people, visibility without protection is a trap. I have worked with colleagues who choose to remain in stealth mode because being known as transgender could put their physically safety at risk. When we ask people in job applications if they need additional support, many say no. They do not want to take up space or, more importantly, they do not want to become a target.

As leaders, we cannot simply state that the door is open. If a person takes a leap of faith to be authentic and is met with bullying, awkward silence, or physical harm, the leader has set them up to fail. True inclusivity requires proactive evidence.

I have experienced this personally. My manager had simply included pronouns in their email signature: a simple gesture that let me know I was safe with them. But when I came out to them, they didn’t just offer platitudes. They asked for my consent to handle the difficult conversations for me. By doing some of the heavy lifting, they proved she had my back and made the workplace a genuinely safe space for me to do my best work.

To change our industry, leaders must be the ones to take the first uncomfortable step. They must prove that vulnerability will be met with support rather than risk – that’s the only way to move beyond performative dates on a calendar and toward a culture where everyone belongs.