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The anticipated creation of a new working group to consider adopting a policy of institutional neutrality has prompted extensive debate about neutrality’s merits and pitfalls.
There is a pressing question, however, that has received far less attention than it deserves: If adopted, what would institutional neutrality mean for students whose identities are highly politicized? For students like me?
I am transgender. In recent years, anti-trans propaganda and legislation have skyrocketed, trapping my community at the center of public discourse. The right has made its anti-trans crusade a central part of its political agenda — a ploy to rile up voters and generate support. Consequently, championing the basic rights of trans people has been cast as a position of the left.
The problem? It shouldn’t be — and isn’t — political to support trans people.
Trans people exist. This is a fact of life, wholly fundamental and neutral. Yet anyone who attempts to merely validate our identities, let alone affirm our right to civil liberties, is branded a radical, “woke” ideologue with a political agenda.
Though absurd, this kind of rhetoric is dangerously prevalent, and that is exactly why Harvard must not dismiss it. In our current climate, the University need not release a public statement or meaningfully invest in the trans community to be lambasted by its critics. Even the smallest step to support or acknowledge trans people — like providing menstrual products in men’s restrooms — is publicly attacked as a profound, political affront.
For precisely this reason, a policy of institutional neutrality — if adopted without consideration of the politicization of trans identity — terrifies me. I fear that a neutral University will refrain from speaking or acting in defense of its trans community members, even at the most warranted and critical times.
Institutional support for trans people at Harvard is already abysmally scarce. We cannot run the risk of stifling it any further.
This is not to claim that institutional neutrality is inadvisable. Indeed, I believe that a University’s primary mission is to foster a healthy environment for academic exploration and free inquiry. To frequently issue political statements or become directly involved in activism infringes upon this goal by chilling the speech of those with differing views. A policy of neutrality can be a very effective tool for preventing such a fate.
At the same time, because of the unique nature of trans identity’s politicization, the University cannot treat it like any other “political” issue.
I am not asking Harvard to comment on every anti-trans attack or political development. Nor do I think it should engage in censorship, even of extreme anti-trans views I personally find deeply reprehensible. The former is unrealistic and unhelpful, and the latter sets a very dangerous precedent.
I merely ask that the University not shy away from taking what are in truth politically neutral steps to support its trans affiliates out of fear that outside actors may deem those actions political.
Furthermore, if the University does adopt a policy of neutrality, I ask that it not confuse neutrality with balance. The University may choose not to express a position itself, but this does not necessitate that it platform heterodox positions to create an appearance of parity.
It is not Harvard’s job to stop people from saying terrible things about trans people, but under no circumstances does that mean it has some moral obligation to solicit, engage with, or encourage these views — especially not in the name of promoting free speech and ideological diversity.
Anti-trans criticisms can indeed be raised out of genuine concerns — for example, many oppose the inclusion of trans athletes on the grounds of “protecting” women’s sports. Though I personally regard such criticisms as seriously flawed, I still welcome them, so that I may engage with and respond to them.
However, malicious actors often co-opt these legitimate concerns for political gain, marketing themselves as well-meaning critics when in reality their arguments seek to deny the trans community’s humanity and dignity.
Those who promote speech — directly and indirectly — like the call to “eradicate” transgender people are not interested in contributing positively to public discourse. To suggest otherwise is a sick joke.
We must remain vigilant in distinguishing between well-intentioned critique and bad-faith attacks, because transphobic rhetoric has severe consequences.
Just a few weeks ago, a transgender teen in Oklahoma — the state currently leading the nation in anti-LGBTQ+ bills — died after allegedly being assaulted in the bathroom at school. Across the country, the rise of anti-trans attitudes has come hand in hand with a stark escalation in hate crimes against trans people, as well as increased risk of anxiety, depression, and suicide within the trans community.
When writing this piece, I found myself hesitating, worried that the language I was using might be too strong, that my opinions might come off as too extreme. I wondered how I might temper my words, so as to not be dismissed as a “woke” radical or an “angry” trans person.
But the truth is, I am angry. I am indescribably furious, and upset, and scared. Because for me — and for every other trans person — the discourse surrounding trans identity isn’t just about politics. It’s not just an issue of abstract theory. It is the difference between life and death for our community.
Harvard can afford to be neutral. But neutrality is a luxury that trans people do not have. Our very personhood has been made political — we don’t ever get to put politics on pause.
No matter how the University decides to move forward, I beg it to carefully consider the trans members of its community. Even if neutrality is adopted — in fact, especially if it is — Harvard should clearly and explicitly affirm its support for trans people. We’ve never been more vulnerable, and to do so has never been more important.
My identity is not an ideology. I’m not interested in platforming people who claim it is, and Harvard shouldn’t be either. If that’s a radical thing to believe, I don’t ever want to be considered moderate.
E. Matteo Diaz ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Grays Hall. His column, “Transcriptions,” runs bi-weekly on Thursdays.
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