Gender crosser finds happiness in life-changing decision

By Melissa Christensen

I’ve never really had to think outside the box. Growing up in the heartland and now living inside the TCU bubble, normalcy has always been the foundation of my experience. That is until I was invited to speak with Deirdre McCloskey, a professor of human sciences at the University of Illinois at Chicago.

With a bachelor’s degree and doctorate in economics from Harvard University, McCloskey offers an impressive résumé which includes authorship of countless articles and more than a dozen books. Although I regard any mind that comprehends economics as sheer genius, it wasn’t her intelligence that intimidated me, nor was it her vast experiences in academic fields which have taken her as far as the Netherlands. Rather, I was intimidated simply by who she was.

Until 1995, Deirdre was known as Donald McCloskey, a well-respected economist, husband of 30 years and father of two. At age 53, Donald decided to take action on a desire he had hidden all his life and began the gender transformation process.

McCloskey was invited as the keynote speaker for the inauguration of the Add Ran College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and the interview was intended to give me a better understanding of her speech. Her address, entitled “Bourgeois Virtue,” had nothing to do with transgender issues, and I didn’t know how or even if I should approach the topic.

Then McCloskey walked out in navy pumps that squarely hit the ground with each step. A perfectly-manicured set of nails was extended in the traditional offer of friendship, and the grip was surprisingly feminine. A set of pearl earrings and skillfully-drawn eyeliner confirmed that I was standing in front of a seasoned woman.

Yet there were several qualities that were unmistakably masculine. Her 6-foot, 2-inch frame still bore the broad shoulders of a man, and despite the perfectly-filed maroon fingernails, her hands were large and strong, noticeably the hands of a man.

Her voice, however, was the most intriguing aspect. It had an almost electronically-generated tone to it, with a dual-tone sound something like when a person whistles and hums at the same time. It was neither feminine nor masculine. It simply was Deirdre.

I decided to not approach the gender subject for the majority of the interview. Finally, as the conversation waned, I pulled out the old reporter’s trick and asked if there was anything she would like to add that I had not asked.

“It should be noted that I am a gender-crosser,” she said.

Well, at least it was in the open. But still I had no idea where the interview should go from there. Luckily, she took the lead.

“When I was 11 years old, I would fall asleep every night praying for two things: One, that I wouldn’t stutter anymore, and two, that I would wake up as a girl,” she said with a slight stutter. “For an Evangelical Christian, 50 percent isn’t too bad.”

She explained to me that she is not ashamed of who she is, and, in fact, she is much happier now than she had ever been. She said she uses humor to put her audiences at ease, whether they be comprised of students or academics.

Her decision was announced publicly in an article, “Some News That At Least Won’t Bore You,” in a 1996 issue of Eastern Economic Journal. Because she was already established professionally, she said her colleagues didn’t miss a beat.

“My dean (at University of Iowa) thought it was great for affirmative action,” she said. “He could chalk one up in one category and remove one from the other.”

Her professional focus has shifted since the gender change, as evidenced in the titles of her books. As Donald, she wrote “The Open Fields of England: Rent, Risk and the Rate of Interest.” As Deirdre, she wrote “How to Be Human* *Though an Economist.”

he said she has learned to focus on all of the virtues found in her academic fields, especially the virtue of love.

That love is clearly expressed to Jane Austen, a 3-year-old, 9-pound Yorkshire terrier who enjoyed jumping into and out of my lap throughout the hour. Janie is part of McCloskey’s contract at UIC and attends all classes the professor teaches. McCloskey speaks to the dog as an equal and coddles the terrier in her lap. At the Add Ran inauguration, Janie accompanied McCloskey in an open, mesh navy and brown Sherpa bag, seemingly content and familiar with the arrangement.

Almost as an afterthought, McCloskey mentioned her family history. As she choked back tears, she told me her children have not spoken to her since 1995.

“I have a grandchild I have never seen,” she said. “I have never seen my only grandchild.”

Then I discovered the point that I had been missing throughout my week of worrying, that simple idea that even preschoolers are taught through Sesame Street. McCloskey is human. Male or female, gender-crosser, economist: They’re all just labels. Sitting across from me was a person struggling with complex emotions. For the first time in her life, she can honestly tell another person she is happy with who she is, but she had to sacrifice the acceptance of her children to get there.

I left the interview feeling ashamed of my overreaction but also feeling optimistic for my personal development. My bubble of normalcy had not burst as I had predicted. It had instead thickened with new layers of compassion and understanding.

Staff reporter Melissa Christensen is a sophomore news-editorial journalism major from Grand Island, Neb.
She can be reached at (m.s.christense@student.tcu.edu).