Today, the International Transgender Day of Visibility, we celebrate and recognize the lives of transgender people in our gaming community. As several of the authors in today’s blog point out, roleplaying games have a unique ability to let us explore, sometimes for fun, sometimes to learn about ourselves, and often both at the same time. By continuing to work to ensure that Paizo has transgender representation in our stories, and our community, we hope to provide space and time for players and GMs, authors and artists, partners and competitors, employees and fans, to be able to travel through life’s journey, living, learning, growing, and of course, gaming.
The importance of this day, a day to acknowledge and celebrate trans voices in our communities, is punctuated by recent political actions seeking to prevent trans youth from receiving medical care, yet another attempt in a long history to silence a group of people and strip away their humanity. This day is highlighted by its relation to the Transgender Day of Remembrance (November 20th) which honors the trans lives lost to violence, bigotry, and indifference. We hope that this day of visibility can stand as a beacon of light and hope for the trans people in all of the different roles in our gaming community: from colleagues to contractors, players to partners. Wherever you are on your journey, we’re glad to have you around the table to roll dice, tell stories, and make some truly fantastic memories together.
Below are contributions from several of our transgender community members, each focused on their personal truth and experience. Some of these entries are raw and emotional. This is a very personal topic, and we support our contributors in speaking genuinely about a subject that affects every part of their lives. We thank them for taking the time to share their insight with the wider community.
Art by Javier Charro
I’ve spent a lot of time playing and making TTRPGs. When I first started playing Pathfinder regularly in 2013, I already knew I was trans. It took me a while before I started playing explicitly trans characters, since I was worried that people who played in my local area wouldn’t be welcoming. Since then, the world has changed. While I still experience transphobia, I’m more confident moving through the world as a trans person. Part of this comes from having more stability in my life, but a big part is seeing other trans people be able to live genuinely. Inclusion of trans characters in Paizo books, particularly the wealth of characters in Lost Omens: Legends, often starts with individual contributors deciding to push for more trans representation. Representation can never replace having trans people creating and playing TTRPGs, but it sends a clear sign that trans people are invited in. I live my life as open as possible and include trans characters in my writing to let trans people know they’re welcome, and to let people who are thinking about coming out as trans see full, happy trans lives.
Rigby Bendele, freelance author (they/them)
I’m Alison Cybe, and I’ve been playing TTRPGs since 1993. That makes me older than most types of fossils. I started early, when my parents bought me one of TSR’s black box games for my birthday. Because of that, I’m one of those people who will talk endlessly about how important a good starter set is for a game. I was also one of those players who was always “happy” to play a female character as well as a male one. I kinda noticed that a lot of players in my local club were the opposite, but a few of us were content to “cross-RP,” as it was called back then. I’ve not actually heard anyone call it that for years now, which is good. Shows that we’ve moved on a lot. This means that, for me, gaming provided a safe “fantasy space” to explore the way that gender is constructed and perform as the type of woman I had always somewhat wanted to be. Over the years, I've met a lot of trans and nonbinary people whose first avenues of exploration were the same and ultimately lead to understanding their own identities. Because of that, I always tend to be quite outspoken on the idea that trans characters should be visible in games. There are no settings that don’t benefit from the added diversity of characters, and the value that they give to the audiences outweighs the upset that they cause to bigots (which is, in my honest opinion, an additional bonus). The best way to do this is to create avenues for trans people to write trans characters and subjects—in fact, publishers should do this with people of every minority as much as possible. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
-Alison Cybe, freelance author (they/them) or (she/her)
I know that “visibility” is an issue I’m supposed to care about. I know that it’s the first step along the very, very long path toward you people treating us like actual human beings, rather than aberrations. Honestly, though, this week? I really couldn’t care less.
I’m supposed to use this blog to talk about how including trans characters enriches a fictional world. They do, of course—at bare minimum because trans people exist in the real world. To not include us in your narratives, or in your games, is a quiet signifier that you really wouldn’t mind if we were gone. Believe me when I say: trans people notice when you do this. We put you on the list of cissies we don’t trust. And we all have a list. We have to—you might kill us, after all.
Don’t believe me? Ask one of your trans friends. You do have trans friends, right?
Personally, I’d love to talk about examples of trans characters enriching fictional worlds—but then, of course, I’d need some examples. Which examples should I use? The ones where we’re monstrous, misogynistic villains, like in Silence of the Lambs? The ones where we’re broken, made to suffer, in the hopes that you all might actually start caring about our struggle, like The Last of Us Part 2? Or maybe softer ones, like The Danish Girl, where you couldn’t even be bothered to cast an actress to play the title role? Which disrespect would you like me to entertain?
(Perhaps you think I’m being unfair, by lumping you in with the others. Can’t imagine what that’s like.)
I don’t know how I’m expected to talk about how trans characters enrich a fictional world when I’ve almost never seen a fictional world that let a trans character enrich it. I can count on one hand the number of positive media representations of trans people that I’ve personally witnessed, let alone enjoyed. But then again, this is just art imitating life: as the Arkansas legislature so forcefully reminded us this week, you don’t want trans people to enrich the real world, either.
I would love to be proven wrong on this. But the operative word there is “prove.” This is the thing that none of you seem to get: you have to prove it. By default, to protect ourselves, I and other trans people have to assume you hate us. So prove us wrong.
Prove us wrong by writing us into your stories. Write us with rich inner lives. Write us messy and flawed and full of joy. Write us full of hatred for a world that hated us first. And then, when you’re done, pay a trans person to tell you all the ways you got it wrong. Because you will get it wrong, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is complacency in the face of that wrongness. Cis complacency digs trans graves.
But sure. “Visibility.”
-kieran tessa newton, editor (she/they)
My name is Sasha Laranoa Harving, although I also go by the name Solatra Lilac Harvinkai, and I am neither male nor female. That doesn't mean I lack a gender, although it does for some, and I personally use nov/nov/novs/novself pronouns. For me, my experience with gender was always one of looking up at the stars on dark nights in the countryside and feeling at home, more so than I ever did in the house I lived in. I felt like I was one with the stars for many years, in a way no other person I meet seemed to resonate with. And as time went on, as I realized there was something else to me than my mediocre life had implied, I discovered roleplaying games, and I saw characters who expressed their gender more freely than I had, colorful gnomes whose stats proudly declared them nonbinary! Spiteful dragons who dared to lack a gender in a time when the roles forced upon us were clear and seemingly constant! I also discovered Starfinder with its acknowledgment of the power the stars have: fiery and passionate, cold and distant, a variation for every pinprick of light in the sky, just like the people upon this world. I realized my gender was more than an expression along a two-point scale; my gender was that of the stellar world above and deserving to be acknowledged, embraced, and loved, just like every other light above and every life below. So, when you call me, hear me: I am a star.
- Sasha Laranoa Harving, freelance author (nov/nov)
My name is Sol, short for Solomon, though you won’t see that on any of Paizo’s products—yet. I hemmed and hawed a lot about taking part in this blog as, compared to a lot of people here, I’m very new. I’ve only been at Paizo for about six months. It’s my first job in the RPG industry, and the first where I felt comfortable enough to publicly use they/them. It is, in fact, the first place outside the internet where I’ve started taking steps to be visible as who and what I am. These steps are not steady. To be visible to others, to be known, and to admit that those who knew me maybe don’t—it’s scary. I think lots of people with recently-cracked eggs feel the same way, even if they—like me—have a good and trusted support network, and even if they—like me—have dabbled with the thought of transitioning for years. Like others, I used RPGs to play with gender long before I thought to apply those principles to myself. Recently, though, it’s been the growing number of visibly trans, nonbinary, and just plain queer characters in the gaming sphere and beyond that have bolstered my courage and reaffirmed my intent. Every casual, singular “they” and genderless or trans NPC that comes across my desk leaves me thinking, “I want that. Someday. And I can have it, when I’m ready.” For those like me, who aren’t quite ready, that representation offers comfort, lessons, and a promise. It reassures that there has always been a place for us, a place that will wait until we’re ready to be seen. So, this is me tilting my hand. I’m here. I’m almost ready. And for those like me: I know you’re out there. Take all the time you need. We’ll see you.
-Solomon, Paizo staff (they/them)
Roleplaying games helped me discover who I am. By being able to play different characters, all with aspects of myself imbued within them, I have been able to discover more about myself than I thought possible. Growing up, I’d play RPGs, video game and tabletop, and I’d play powerful women doing amazing things as often as possible. When I’d get stuck playing a “boy character,” I’d often just focus on mechanics and ignore the character, or imbue these compulsory male heroes with stereotypical traits, betraying my disingenuous view of masculinity. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I started researching transgender women in order to properly write one into an adventure. I found the experiences, thoughts, and feelings of these women to be eerily like my own. It was then that I had the realization that I am trans. My own journey of accidental self-discovery by writing a trans character into an adventure inspired me to stay visible and keep trans characters visible in our games. I hoped that it would help other people discover themselves by seeing someone like them depicted in stories. And it has worked. I’ve heard from multiple gamers that seeing a transgender character, written by transgender authors, has lead them to self-acceptance and given them courage to confront the social norms of our society and the roles that have been thrust upon us by the circumstances of our birth. Representation matters. Being visible matters. It’s a small step, but one that will lead us to a more peaceful and prosperous future.
-Vanessa Hoskins, freelance author (she/her)
To our trans community members: we see you, we hear you, and we support you! Thank you for enriching our community with your presence.
International Transgender Day of Visibility
Wednesday, March 31, 2021
