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Tag Archives: #inclusion
Trans and gender non-conforming individuals at the workplace
Delighted to share a research that I undertook with colleagues at @BostonConsultingGroup has been published in the Sep-Oct Issue of Harvard Business Review (‘HBR’)!
Earlier this year, our report on the experience of trans and gender non-conforming individuals (‘TGNC’) at the workplace spanning 8 countries was published online on HBR. The research uncovered some rather concerning insights for TGNC community and laid concrete steps companies can take to correct the situation. I hope through its extract published in the print version, our message reaches an even wider audience and creates a broader positive impact for the TGNC community.
I encourage you to read the full report on the HBR website and welcome thoughts.
Huge thanks to the whole team: Pierre Dupreelle, Kushal Khandhar, Elliot Vaughn, Ashley Dartnell, Michael Schachtner, Nadine Yousif, Annika Zawadzki, Matt Krentz, Nicolas Llinas-Carrizosa, Nolan Rynecki, Jen Cox, Kate Cheney Myrrh, Mark Voorhees, and Paul Michelman.
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A Long and Painful Journey of Growth and Discovery
I’ve always had to battle challenges and adversity far larger than being transgender.
In this blog post, let’s focus on the transgender part of my story…
I was born in 1971 and grew up in a time, a conservative geographic region, and surrounded by people who never asked me why I was so unhappy and hid away in my room for days on end. When I did make attempts to try and tell them, they didn’t listen. This began when I was 3 years old…
By the time I was 5 years old, I stopped trying to tell people that I was actually a boy inside the female body they perceived. Instead, I began to wonder if there was something wrong with me. Maybe I didn’t quite belong in this world? Maybe I was just broken?
When finally, at the age of 20, I figured out that I was transgender, it was the beginning of an odyssey. This was now over 30 years ago. And the odyssey is still ongoing.
I used to say “I was born in the wrong body” to explain my situation as simply as possible to people. But, I don’t want to say “in the wrong body” anymore, because I have realized this is basically negative self-talk. There is nothing wrong with me or my body. I am not broken. My soul and my biological body were simply mismatched. Why, we’ll never know.
Well, I do have a theory (with a slight twinkle in my eye):
Since I was a kid, I like to imagine a factory high up in the heavens, where exhausted workers toil around the clock at long assembly lines. Their task is to stick souls into matching bodies before those little bodies are then put into wombs. Obviously, every now and then an assembly line worker does not pay attention. As happened in my case when he, she, or they stuck my male soul into a female body… a second of complacency which has cost me dearly my entire life.
For it has taken truly until now for me to realize that I do belong in this world. And that I have as much right as everyone else to take up space, be heard, be seen.
For the longest time, I felt as if I had to apologize for being who I am. I was terrified whenever I needed to come out at work, or in private.
It was during those days as well, that I got rejected in job interviews simply for being transgender.
And then, one time, in the year 2000, the head of human resources of a prestigious company told me after I mentioned that I am transgender, “That’s not a problem at all, Mr. Klenk. You are a very good fit. We’d like to hire you. Just don’t tell anyone else in the company that you are transgender.”
And you know, what? I actually said, “Yes, sure, I understand.”
Because I was so grateful that someone wanted to hire me.
Today, 23 years later, I am fully aware just how discriminating, and disrespectful the HR representative’s request was. And that I should have gotten up that very moment and said “NO”.
Yet, only recently, after years of work with my psychologist did it finally dawn on me that I have prioritized the needs of others my entire life.
How often was I hidden away and still am. To this day, my adoptive father thinks it’s better to not mention to anyone in his village that I am transgender. He can’t even bring himself to use the word transgender. Instead, he refers to it as “your thing.”
My adoptive mother still struggles with finding the right pronouns, 32 years after I came out to her and transitioned. She is concentrating like mad when she speaks to me but often falls back into the female form. And, to this day, she is lying to everyone she knows and only speaks to them about her daughter. When I visit and people she knows walk towards us, she grabs my arm and literally runs with me in the other direction. Because she is at a loss as to how to explain who the young man at her side is. So, to protect my mental health, since a couple years ago, I stopped visiting her.
My ex-wife and her siblings insisted throughout our entire marriage that it will be better not to mention to their parents that their son-in-law is transgender. Since it would make their parents uncomfortable and would possibly break their hearts.
What about my heart?
But you know what? I went along with all of it. Always put myself second. Always understood. And always aimed to do my best to prevent others from ever feeling uncomfortable around me and my reality. I became an amazing diplomat, regulating the feelings of others long before they even felt them.
Even after I wrote a book about my life and basically outed myself with utmost authenticity and truthfulness to the entire world, I still had abundant understanding for everyone else and did my best to never inconvenience anyone.
And I wasn’t even aware I did this to myself.
In the process, I realize now, I undermined my sense of self-worth and my self-confidence. I hurt myself. Didn’t have my own back. De-stabilized the ground I walked on. The tremors and earthquakes became stronger with every single year, until I fell more often than I stood.
I realize now, I committed the ultimate betrayal. Did the worst we can do to ourselves. Because if we don’t have our own backs 100%, if we don’t love ourselves exactly as who and how we are, we literally have nothing.
It is the loneliest we can possibly ever be. No matter how many loyal and supportive friends we have. No matter how many people we inspire.
My odyssey has thus far been chock-full of challenges and adversity. Thankfully, I never took any of these hurdles as being the end of the line. But rather as opportunities for growth and learning. So, grow I did and do. Painfully and slowly. I always will.
Nowadays, as I am in the process of – for the first time in my life – building a healthy base layer of self-confidence and self-esteem. I am beginning to truly stand up tall.
And while I have already been an active supporter and public speaker for the transgender, non-conforming, and non-binary community since as far back as 2016, it is only now that I feel true belonging – to myself, as well as to the world around me. I am allowing myself space. I am finding my place. And as I love myself more and belong more, my voice grows stronger.
Most importantly, I know – as firmly and clearly as anyone ever can – that I will never let myself be hidden away or silenced again.
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The Hazards of Traveling
Traveling. That magical word. Those moments, surreal almost in their beauty and intensity once we return home and try to hold on to them in our thoughts. And then, of course, while on the road, there is this feeling of being intensely alive. I had missed especially this vividness when finally, after 2 years of not traveling long distances during the pandemic, I was able to set out again and explore. And, as every time when I set out, I was scared.
Over the years, I’ve lived and worked on several continents. In 11 countries. These were, in chronological order: Germany, USA, Switzerland, Maldives, Belgium, Macau, Canada, Hong Kong, Malta, the Caribbean, and France.
Each one of these home bases I settled into, I used as a hub from which I travelled extensively. I love exploring.
Yet, every single time I set off to go somewhere new, to venture into the unknown, I was afraid. Even terrified at times.
It was the realization that I was about to go out of my comfort zone, to stretch my limits. A leap of faith, both scary and invigorating.
It was also knowing that I was leaving my safe zone – Zurich, Switzerland – where I know from experience, I won’t be attacked as a transgender man.
Each time, leaving this safe haven added a whole other layer of anxiety for me. The fear of not being accepted… or worse of being in mortal danger as a trans individual. I knew, I’d be far more vulnerable at any new destination, due to my lack of local knowledge. Just think of emergencies, doctor’s visits, registrations at public offices, etc.
Now, being 52 years old, I’ve seen a large portion of our planet. I am by all means a seasoned traveler. But one thing hasn’t changed: I am still often anxious. Especially as I head out. That initial push of, “Yeah it’s scary as hell, but do it anyways. It’ll be worth it, and you’ll be fine.”
Like two months ago, when I took several planes to get from Switzerland to New Zealand. During my long stopover in Doha, I was acutely aware of their state-of-the-art full body scanners and wondered how much they really show or don’t show? Was it obvious to the security personnel that there is something missing between my legs?
As I then walked through the lush, green forest inside the recently built Doha terminal, I was in awe. But, at the same time, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. Because I knew I was in one of those places on Earth where I am not allowed to exist. Where I am considered an abomination. Would they kill me if they met me in a dark alley rather than in a busy airport terminal?
When the airplane took off towards Adelaide a few hours later, I was as relieved as a drowning man coming up to the surface for a breath of much needed air.
So, you see, wherever I go, it is hard for me to completely relax. And sometimes, depending on where I am, I can’t relax at all.
I transitioned in 1996, when I was 25. But even now, 27 years later, I still sometimes feel like a criminal on the run who could be detected at any moment. Someone not welcome, under the radar, living a life of false safety which can shatter at any time.
Thus, my nervous system is always on high alert.
When you meet me on the street, however, you’ll never know I’m transgender. I am very much the man I am – inside and also on the outside. I “pass” very well as they say.
On that note: I detest the use of the words “passing” and “presenting” in relation to how a transgender person is perceived by others. It’s actually outright disrespectful and invalidating. “Passing” and “presenting” make us sound as if we are pretending to be who we are rather than actually being exactly the person we say we are, no matter how that may look to others.
People I only meet briefly on the street or whilst running an errand will never know they’ve just met a transgender man.
And it is precisely those quick everyday encounters which make me wonder: Would they still appreciate me and treasure me if they knew I am transgender? Would I still be safe around them?
Far more acute, when I am traveling or working abroad, I often wonder things like: Will the doctors in the foreign hospital still treat me well when they find out my body isn’t quite like any other male body? If I get searched by police in a dark alley, will I come out of there alive? If I’m outed in a bar in the middle of nowhere, will I be attacked? Will the woman I’ve flirted with run away in disgust when she sees me the first time without my clothes?
Especially in the USA, the Middle East, and South America, hundreds of transgender individuals get killed every year on the street simply for being who they are. So, my worries are not unfounded. And much still needs to be done for this, our beautiful planet, to truly be an inclusive world.
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On Stage with Kurt Aeschbacher at Haebse in Basel
For a second time, I had the pleasure to be invited as a guest to Kurt Aeschbacher’s talk show. This time not on television but life on stage at the Kulturhaus Haebse in Basel. It’s been – once again – a special honor and precious life experience, whilst at the same time also an opportunity to raise awareness for the transgender community and do something good.
After I published my book ‘Paralian – not just transgender’ in May 2016, I was invited to do many radio and magazine interviews. At the time, I wondered what I would do if I’d ever get approached to be a guest on a talk show.
Because, inevitably, when I watch most talk shows, they feel over the top to me, pretentious, inauthentic, disrespectful, exploitational, and wrong on so many levels.
Except Aeschbacher. He is a Swiss TV legend and hosted his own talk show, unpretentiously called ‘Aeschbacher’ for 30 years on Swiss television. I’ve always loved his shows and the way Kurt Aeschbacher dealt with his guests.
There was a lightness of being and a deep understanding. All at the same time.
There was also true curiosity, compassion, and respect. Kurt always invited four people and focused on each of them for 15 minutes in his 1-hour-long show. He led the interviews with a beautiful, subtle sense of humor, and an enormously big heart.
So, I really dreamt of one day being invited to ‘Aeschbacher.’
And then, all of a sudden, in January 2018, I received a letter from the ‘Aeschbacher’ production team, asking me if I wanted to be a guest in the show.
It was lovely. And the positive impression I had gained of Kurt Aeschbacher from a distance over the years was confirmed. He welcomed us, his four guests of the evening, with open arms at the TV studio. He told us, he didn’t want to discuss the questions with us in detail beforehand so as not to take away the authenticity. But he also said that, should we feel uncomfortable at any time, we could always choose to just not answer a question.
After the show, he approached each of us and asked us if it had been ok, and if we had felt comfortable. And all of us had felt very comfortable indeed.
Fast forward five years from spring of 2018 to now – spring of 2023.
We got back in touch this year and I was delighted to hear that Kurt Aeschbacher had decided to continue his talk show concept live on stage in a theatre in Basel after his TV show had been shut down after its successful 30-year run.
So, it was a no-brainer to say ‘yes’ when Kurt asked me if I wanted to be his guest again. This time for his matinee show ‘Sonntagsgaeste’ (Sunday Guests), which he performs together with artistic director and musician Phil Dankner, who is just as much of a good soul as Kurt.
Thus, last Sunday, on the 16th of April 2023, I found myself on stage again, live, and as always very nervous in sharing a story as personal and intimate as mine. It always feels equivalent to leaning far out of the window on the top floor of a 30-story building.
The overall concept of the talk show was still the same. Yet, far more comfortable somehow, in a stage setting which resembled a cozy living room.
The conversations between Kurt and his guests were still inspirational, delightful, entertaining, as well as educational.
As I watched the conversations with my co-guests, I learned about moulages. About incredible Ticino architects. And I was inspired by young Swiss singer ‘Elle,’ who I am sure will make all her dreams come true.
I was the last of us 4 guests.
Kurt and I chatted for 25 minutes about my life, about being transgender, and the challenges of transitioning 30 years ago, when no one was aware yet, and being trans wasn’t discussed on every news and social media channel.
We also talked about the importance of mutual respect in all of our dealings with each other, no matter if we understand one another’s journey or not.
I believe, Kurt, Phil, and I made a difference that evening. Many audience members shook my hand after the show and thanked me for giving them a better glimpse into a subject they had up until then not really understood.
Thank you, dear Kurt and dear Phil, for creating such a wonderful platform for us, the guests on stage as well as the audience, to learn more about each other and celebrate the diversity of human lives and our life experiences, together.
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Come see me on stage in Basel on April 16th
On Sunday, April 16, 2023, come see me on stage in Basel, Switzerland.
I will be one of four guests of Swiss talk show legend Kurt Aeschbacher. And he will surely have an amazing conversation with each of us. For 30 years, Kurt Aeschbacher had his own talk show on Swiss TV. Now he is continuing this legendary, engaging, and inspirational set-up in a new form together with artistic director Phil Dankner, live on stage, in a matinee show at ‘Kulturhuus Haebse’ in Basel.
We will talk about my life, my book, and we’ll try to build bridges and further understanding of what it means to be transgender.
Tickets can be bought here https://www.haebse.ch/spielplan/event-five-et78n-cgxhn-gc7ht. Maybe I’ll see some of you there?
Kurt Aeschbacher’s talks are always compassionate, thoughtful, respectful, and full of a kind curiosity. I won’t know in advance which questions he will ask and where the conversation will lead us. But I am sure it will be a beautiful, memorable morning.
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The Amazing Zurich PRIDE Parade
Yesterday, on June 18th, 2022, the annual Zurich PRIDE parade took place in the center of town. It was the first parade after the pandemic. And it was fabulous in so many ways… let me tell you more…
Arriving at the meeting point, I already thought, “Oh, there are way more people here than in the years before.” However, at the time, I didn’t see all the PRIDE participants who didn’t fit into Helvetia square but were waiting in the adjacent streets for the parade to begin.
When the 8 trucks started going, everyone cheered and our parade slowly, slowly began making its way through downtown Zurich. As soon as we all filed into one of the larger streets it became quite obvious that we had far surpassed the usual approximately 10’000 participants.
All around me was a sea of rainbows, goodwill, and happiness. It was so strong and tangible in the air, you could almost touch it, bottle it, and take it home with you as an antidote for dreary, less inclusive days.
I wondered why people had turned up in such high numbers in our small metropolis. Maybe it was a general urge people felt to throw themselves into the masses after being cooped up at home for so long? Or maybe it was the fact that on July 1st, 2022, the same sex marriage will be officially legalized in Zurich? Or, maybe, times really are changing and have changed much more than we even realize?
This year’s parade motto was “Trans – Living Diversity.”
We had gone as a team with members of the PRIDE network of our company, BCG. A few allies came along as well which was fabulous. All of us together had a great time and we spent most of the day losing each other, then searching and finding each other again in this sea of joyful human beings.
As we immersed ourselves more deeply into the parade, we began following one truck in particular. It was bright green and offered by far the best DJ of all the trucks in the parade. The music was fantastic. Getting your body moving all on its own.
Even more fantastic was that on the side of the truck was written in large letters “Trans Rights Now” and on the back of the truck the creative organizers had written in flowers “Heroes.”
Letting the beat go through me, I felt the words and actions of the people around me going through me as well. And I was in tears (joyful ones!) most of the time.
When I transitioned 27 years ago, it had been such an isolated, lonely road. And definitely no one considered us to be heroes.
I had been luckier than most to have amazing friends who, for the most part, stuck by me and still do, to this day. I had also been lucky to live in a country where I didn’t need to fear for me life due to being a trans man.
But, nevertheless, I had needed to jump through way too many, emotionally painful, bureaucratic hoops. And, over the years, living and working abroad in 11 different countries, I often did need to fear for my safety and my life.
But in the first few years of transitioning, the bureaucratic and medical processes were the hardest. The doctors who did the surgery to remove my breasts didn’t care much to do a good job and left me with enormous scars. For many years this made it hard for me to take my shirt off in public.
Then, I was assigned to a psychiatrist who sabotaged me when giving his professional evaluation needed by the authorities. This man deduced I wasn’t manly enough because he felt my handshake wasn’t strong enough. So, he wrote that I wasn’t truly transgender. Thankfully another psychiatrist supported me all the way and ended up being the heavier weight on the scale.
After injecting testosterone for the first time, it took 10 years until I was finally allowed to change my gender in all official papers. For most of those 10 years, I already looked like a man and spent way too many moments needing to explain to total strangers in official places why I looked like a man but had a passport that stated me as female.
I always tried to move on and see the positive side of life. For the most part, I succeeded (interspersed by the odd depression and anxiety attacks). Overall, however, if I am completely honest to myself and to you, there were way too many long years of challenges, adversity, hardship, and pain.
So, seeing this wonderful, boisterous truck in the parade, and seeing so much evidence of support for trans people, I was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.
Never had I thought I would ever see a pro-trans parade like this. Never had I expected to see a truck like this, loudly and happily proclaiming “Here we are!”
Several of the large businesses along the streets we were marching through put up enormous rainbow banners.
It was scorching hot. In some houses people were throwing fans from their balconies into the crowd (when I say “fans,” I mean the kind you use to refresh yourself by propelling air towards your face, not the human kind).
In many other houses along our route, the inhabitants were using hoses, buckets, water bottles, anything that could hold a little water to pour over the crowd. Each squirt and drop of water raining down on us from above resulted in loud cheers of thankfulness from hundreds of people.
We even passed a church where several old ladies helped rehydrate us as well. A sight which again brought me to tears in its infinite kindness and clear display of love, mutual respect, and open-mindedness.
Overall, a day to remember forever.
And, as we found out afterwards through the news, it had been 40’000 people who took part in this year’s Zurich PRIDE parade!
40’000! Plus the amazing supporters all along the parade who were showering us with water and preventing us from sun stroke.
Here is to diversity and inclusion, and the freedom to be exactly who you know you are!
💛🧡❤️💚💙💜
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Featured in Podcast ‘Mis Coming Out’
For all Swiss-German and German speakers out there, here a little something to listen to on a relaxed Sunday afternoon: Marco Schaettin recently interviewed me for his fabulous podcast ‘Mis Coming Out’ (my coming out) and I told him about my life story… ☺️
Click here to get to the podcast episode.
Further information on my website.
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Paralian at Paranoia City
Since yesterday, my book is available for sale in Paranoia City, a wonderful, little, independent book shop in Zurich. Paralian is officially out of print, so these are the last 6 copies available for now. What better place to sell them at than in my old home which inspired a large part of this book anyways. On Amazon and other ebook providers Paralian is still available in e-book format as well https://www.troubador.co.uk/bookshop/autobiography/paralian/
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I Am Liam
Ever since writing this blog, I’ve noticed how I lose followers when, for a while, I don’t specifically write about being transgender. I guess some people are hoping for specific insights into a trans existence. But what is a trans existence? The truth is – and I can’t stress this often enough – we are all the sum of our experiences. That being said, no matter what I do and write, being trans (or being categorized as trans in our society) is undeniably part of who I am.
However, when you are trans it isn’t foremost on your mind every single day. It isn’t what you think and talk about all the time. It just is. I transitioned 25 years ago. Yes, I have faced and still face many challenges because of being trans. But, in essence, I am facing what everyone else does. Like every other human out there, I fight my battles, struggle, grow, love, hurt, long to belong, long to be loved, and aim to find a healthy balance between taking care of myself and taking care of others.
Over the years, what has become most important for me is to open my mind wide and see beyond the labels. If I am any sort of activist, then this is it: I fight for a world of compassion and mutual respect. A world in which labels become obsolete.
The more I experience life all over the globe, the more I realize that, rather than focusing on what makes us all different, it is so much better to focus on what connects us. The best I can do for myself and for everyone else out there is to be authentic, ignore the labels, and rather write about life in all its rawness. I want to observe the world around me with empathy. I want to understand those around me, no matter what their background, and write about the beauty and painfulness of our shared existence.
The longer I think about it, I even wonder, “What does transgender mean?” I was born as who I am. The gender assignation of the body I was born with did not match with my soul. But my soul was always human. I was just another splotch of color in our diverse universe. No matter what my physical shell looked like at any point in time, inside of it I was always beautiful, flawed, unique, struggling Liam. Society will classify me as a trans male. I classify myself as male. But in the end, does it even matter?
I am Liam. And I believe that is enough.
Photo by Susanne Stauss
Liam Klenk 