Transgender Rights Advocate Openly Admits She Doesn't Mind Pretending Men Are Women
WASHINGTON — The offices of the National Center for Gender Inclusion occupy the third floor of a converted rowhouse on Q Street NW, in a suite that Dana Kirkwood has described, on more than one occasion, as “perfectly adequate.” There is a water cooler that makes a sound Ms. Kirkwood likens to a cat being gently surprised. There is a filing cabinet she has never opened. There is, on the wall behind her desk, a framed poster bearing the words “Trans Rights Are Human Rights,” which she hung in 2018 and which she looks at now with the settled calm of a person who has been at peace with something for a very long time.
“I really don’t mind it,” said Ms. Kirkwood, 43, the center’s executive director and one of the most prominent transgender rights advocates in the country. She was referring to pretending that men are women. “People say, ‘You’re just pretending.’ And I think — yes. I suppose I am. And it doesn’t bother me at all.”
It is, by any measure, a position. The statement, offered without apparent irony during a ninety-minute interview at her office on Wednesday, has produced what colleagues and opponents alike have described as a rare moment of total rhetorical disorientation in the American gender debate. Ms. Kirkwood, who has spent fifteen years advocating for transgender rights at the state and federal level, has simply agreed with the characterization that her critics have spent the better part of a decade deploying as an accusation.
“I’ve been called a lot of things,” she said. “Someone who pretends men are women is one of the more accurate ones, frankly. I do that. I do it every day. I’m very comfortable with it.”
The reaction within the advocacy community has been swift and largely distressed. Marcus Everly, a spokesperson for the National LGBTQ Task Force, issued a statement Thursday morning clarifying that the organization “does not characterize the recognition of transgender identity as pretending” and that Ms. Kirkwood’s comments “reflect a personal framing that is not shared by the broader movement.” When asked if Ms. Kirkwood had technically said anything incorrect, Mr. Everly paused for eleven seconds before responding, “We would use different language.”
The difficulty, according to several advocates who spoke on the condition of anonymity because they did not wish to be associated with the controversy, is that Ms. Kirkwood’s position is not obviously wrong. It is merely unsayable. “The problem isn’t that Dana is lying,” said one longtime ally, who asked to be identified only as a senior official at a national advocacy organization. “The problem is that she’s being honest in a way that makes the rest of us look like we weren’t.”
Opponents of transgender rights, who have long relied on the “pretending” framework as their primary rhetorical tool, have found themselves in the unexpected position of having nothing to say. Bradley Kaine, a senior policy analyst at the Heritage Foundation and a frequent critic of what he calls “gender ideology,” said Ms. Kirkwood’s admission had created “a strategic vacuum.”
“Our entire argument was that they were pretending and wouldn’t admit it,” Mr. Kaine said. “She admitted it. Cheerfully. I’ll be honest — we don’t have a contingency for that.”
Mr. Kaine said his organization was convening an emergency working group to develop new messaging, though he acknowledged that the group’s initial session had been “unproductive” because participants kept circling back to the fact that Ms. Kirkwood had agreed with them and they were not sure why this felt like losing.
Ms. Kirkwood, for her part, seemed unbothered by the fallout. She spoke about her position with the unhurried precision of someone who has given a matter extensive thought and arrived at a conclusion she finds genuinely unremarkable. “If a friend of mine says, ‘I’m a woman,’ and I say, ‘Yes, you are,’ and someone else says, ‘You’re pretending’ — I mean, I suppose that’s one way to describe it,” she said. “I’ve been described as an advocate, an activist, a radical, and now a pretender. Of all of those, ‘pretender’ is the one I find most relaxing.”
She paused, and took a sip from a mug that read “World’s Okayest Advocate,” a gift, she said, from a former colleague who had meant it as a joke but whose assessment she considers “not inaccurate.”
“Pretending is easy,” she said. “That’s the thing people don’t realize. It takes almost no effort. You just — do it. You just treat people the way they’d like to be treated. If that’s pretending, then I’ve been pretending about all sorts of things my whole life. I pretend my neighbor’s dog isn’t annoying. I pretend my mother’s meatloaf is good. I pretend the man at the deli who calls me ‘boss’ is not making me uncomfortable.” She shrugged. “We’re all pretending constantly. I just happen to be good at it.”
Dr. Theresa Liang, a professor of political discourse at Northwestern University who studies the rhetoric of identity movements, said Ms. Kirkwood had inadvertently exposed a structural weakness in the contemporary culture war. “The entire debate is predicated on the assumption that both sides disagree,” Dr. Liang said. “If one side simply agrees with the other side’s characterization, the debate collapses. There’s nothing to argue about. It’s like trying to play tennis when your opponent keeps catching the ball and putting it in their pocket.”
Dr. Liang said she had already received inquiries from three doctoral candidates who wished to write dissertations on what she called “the Kirkwood Capitulation,” though Ms. Kirkwood herself rejected the word “capitulation.”
“I haven’t capitulated,” she said. “I’ve agreed. There’s a difference. Capitulation implies you lost something. I haven’t lost anything. I’ve just stopped pretending I’m not pretending.” She smiled. “Which, if you think about it, is actually the most honest thing I could do.”
