North Carolina's transgender bathroom law: 5 personal stories about HB2's impact

In North Carolina's corridors of power, no place holdsmore political urgency these days than the bathroom. And no time will be more pressing than tomorrow to address what the U.S. government considersa matter of sex discrimination.

Monday is thedeadlinethe Justice Department setfor North Carolinato "remedy" its House measure, HB2, which restricts restroom access fortransgenderpeople in government-managed buildings.

"It's just a basic human need," saysZekeChristopoulos, atransgenderbanker from Asheville, N.C., who, under the so-called bathroom law, would not be able to use the men'sroom because he wasn't born a man. "That's astressorthat's huge."

Republican lawmakers havevowed to defy the deadline to repeal the bill. The Justice Department, which warns the law violates the 1964 Civil Rights Act, could ultimately respond by withdrawing billions in federalfunding for schools.

Transgenderresidents of North Carolina describe how the debate overHB2 is affecting their daily lives.

Janice Covington Allison, 69, from Charlotte:

I'm just atransgenderwoman who wants to live her life.

I was on my way to present at a city council meeting, I was running a little late. This was around 2015. I came into the government building, went straight to the ladies' room to fix my hair because it was windy outside. I hear the door openand there's a policewoman and I say, "Hey, how you doing?" And she says, "You're going to have to leave. Igot people out there complaining."

She escorted me out.It was embarrassing. When I walked out, all those people maybe30 of them were jeering and making remarks. A minister out there was calling me a child molester and such. I didn't feel safe. That's not what I'm about. I wasthere to conduct business in a governmentbuildingwhere I should be safe.

I was demonstrating at the CharlotteGovernmentCentre on the day that HB2 was passed. A reporter told me about it, and I just started crying. I never did that on an interview. But it's because my life prettymuch flashed before my eyes. I thought about the children in schools, the youngtransgenderkids, all those young people who, because of this law, might commit suicide.

I've been involved in many things. I served in the military, in Vietnam.I ran for county commissioner in 1984. I did professional fishing,BassmastersonESPN, Istarted my own construction company in Charlotte. I did things like a normal person. I paid mytaxes. AndI came out full time as mearound 2005.

If I go into a men's room, they're going to have to call an ambulance for somebody, either for a man or call an ambulance for me. But if I have to go into a men's room and somebody tries to assault me, I'm going to defend myself, and that's the kind of position Gov. PatMcCroryhas put me in.

Liam KaiJohns, 27, from Charlotte:

That deal was signed on the anniversary of my friend's death, his suicide. He wasan 18-year-oldtransperson of colour. Me and two of my friends did a Chinese lantern for him in the backyard of my house thatnight. When I heard what was going on, it was a punch to the gut.

I'm Native American, with the Monacan tribe. And trans people of colour are the most marginalized.

Before HB2, I didn't really think about going into the bathroom. I started transitioningwhen I was 20, so nobody's going to know I'mtransunless I tell them. Soit didn't really affect me, but now people are looking around or starting to targettranspeople. 'Cisgender'peopleare going to look around the bathrooms, "Oh, is there atransperson here," that's been brought up.

You're losing sleep at night. You worry about yourtransbrothers and sisters who are not passing, or are either queer or gender non-conforming. You worry about the people you can't protect, the people you love and care about who are unsafe now.

I'm a 27-year-oldtransguy who's just trying to make it in my community.I put myself through college to be a paramedic. I also dobartending. I do things normal people do. I take care of my parents. My father is 76 and lives with me. I take care of my mother and grandmother.

I can't just up and leave North Carolina because of this bill. I'm living through the turmoil of HB2.

Candis Cox, 34, from Raleigh:

I'm going to say all this stuff without crying. Yesterday was my last day at work. I ended up leaving my job because of this.

I'm a publictranswoman, legally married to mycisgenderedmale husband. My passport, my licence, says I'm female.

I worked at American Airlines at Raleigh International Airport, a public airport run by the government. I had dealt with our legal counsel because I said, "What bathroom am I supposed to use now?" The only bathrooms in the common-use space are at the airport, which involves the state government.

Finally, they told me, just use the handicap bathroom. I'm in a uniform, and every time I went in there, people were staring. There'sa passenger in a wheelchair waiting to use it, and it was just humiliating. It's uncomfortable because it's this perfectly healthy, normal woman, why are you going in there? I finally said, "I can't come to work and feel humiliated and feel ashamed every single day."

I knew my only option was to leave because if I continued to be a problem and more people complained and they fired me, I have no recourse. I can't go to my state because there's now a law saying they're not discriminating.

• North Carolinatransgenderbathroom law damaging tourism, industry says
• Looking toreframeLGBTfight, U.S. conservatives head to the bathroom

I want people to see I am no different than anyone else. I'm a Christian, I have strong faith. I volunteer as a Wake County Guardian AdLitem, which is a court advocate for abused andneglectedchildren,but people don't ask me about that. I pay taxes, I go to the grocery store, I have my family who I love, I worry about things. I don't have weird sexual fetishes, I don't have some criminal background, I wasn't abused. I'm an everyday, day-to-day normal person.

Zeke Christopoulos, 44, fromAsheville:

In earlier points in my life when I wastransitioning, you can't imagine the number of techniques and strategies that I employed whengoing to thebathroom;theconstantvigilance I had to have formy own personal safety.

It was having a buddy for going to the bathroom, or sitting and watching the restroom until I was sure nobody was going to go into it. I'm pretty sure my bladder might have some issues as I age because of the stress.I know a lot oftranspeople who have chronic [urinary tract infection] and kidneyissuesbecause of the stress of not being ableto go. They're tough situations.I don't think you should subject people to that.

I did go to Raleigh. Iwent to city council meetings, county commission meetings, and eachtime Iwalked into those governmentbuildings, those are thebuildings I am mandated to indeed use the women's room. It's something so simple that people don't read about. It's a basichuman need. Weallhave to use the restroom. It's astressorthat's huge.

Watch Zeke Christopoulos speaking out against HB2:

That made me feel very scared to live in a state where I couldn't even sue within the state to protect my rights based on age, gender, race and gender status and certainly not sexual orientation or gender identity.

All these groups are sayingtransgenderpeopleare dangerous, all these attacks are going to happeninbathrooms.People have been searching frantically to find a case where atransgenderperson was prosecuted for an assault in a bathroom. They can't find one.

I get up every morning just before 6 a.m. I go to work as a banker and look at somefinancials, I get on a conferencecall or two and [meet] clients, [and]hopefully get a chance to come home and meet my wife for dinner. I might go out to a meeting or an event in the community. It's a very humdrum daily existence. Not anything elaborate or extravagant, certainly not anything perverse.

We're not moving, we're not going anywhere, this is home.

Maddy Goss, 40, from Raleigh:

I'm an engineer at a health-care software company. AndI've always known I was a woman. Growing up in rural NorthCarolina, being a queer kid wasn't exactly an easy way togrowup.You get harassed a lot and discriminated against and beat up.

Recently, my family and I spent the weekend in D.C. and had such a great time. We didn't think about HB2 right until we came back to North Carolina. We stopped at a rest stop and that whole fear came back again. It takes just one person to recognize that you'retrans.I went and did my business, gotback in the car and we left. Nothing happened, but it was just that reminder of the fear uponcoming home.

This is the state where I was born and raised. Growing up, people would beat me up because I was"gay,"andI couldn't explain to them that no, I was actuallytransgenderbecauseit wouldn'thave made adifference. It made my childhood a living hell.I had attempted suicide acoupletimes by the time I was 21.

• North Carolina lawmaker dismisses deadline set by U.S. Justice Department overtransgenderbathroom law

The fears receded a little bit as I got older. But not until recently, with the passing of HB2, has it come back. It brings it all back.

I think the one thing that's really important to understand about all of this is in the United States, people are trying to pass these bathroom bills by using thetransperson asbogeymen, perverts, child molesters, people lurking in bathrooms. No,transmen are just men;transwomen are just women.

We just want to use the bathroom in peace and live our lives.