Monday, November 14, 2005
SU-JIN YIM

Trans also stands for transform for actor

The movie poster for "Transamerica" is mysterious: All you see is the back of a woman as the person hesitates before two bathroom doors, one for men, one for women.

What's the big decision? Scott Turner Schofield knows.

The 25-year-old performer faces similar "mental gymnastics" every day as a transgender person who started life as a girl but never felt right. "Transamerica," which opens in December, tells the story of a male-to-female transformation, played by Felicity Huffman, an award-winning actress on television's "Desperate Housewives."

In real life and in his performance art, the Southern-born Schofield tackles gender and sex in humor-tinged personal stories. Schofield, who graduated from Emory University, hits town today for two shows at Portland State University and Reed College with spoken-word artist Gavin Katz.

In an interview, Schofield talked about how Hollywood sometimes gets it wrong, how people react to him in coffeeshops and why it's worth going through a second puberty.

Why do you think transgender and transsexual issues are so big in the culture right now. Not just with "Transamerica" but the recent Sundance channel documentary series "Transgeneration"?
On my radar, at least, it exploded when Hilary Swank won the Oscar for "Boys Don't Cry" and people were, like, "This is really interesting." It's just been snowballing from there (with) the work of many tireless activists. We're a visible population. Trans folks are the people who get the looks a little more often, especially in the case of male to female transsexuals like Felicity Huffman's role.

Does this kind of exposure change anything for transgendered people in real life?
It depends on the way it's handled. In my own work I try to work with pop culture or culture in general to tell my stories that are real, and also have a spin on it to make us all think about how gender works and how it's impacted by class and race and where you're from.

Tell me about your show with the Southern Gents Tour.
I do my one-person show called "Debutante Balls." . . . Debutantes call making your debut into society "coming out." I was coming out myself in different ways. Also, it's about class and race, which are two really huge things, being a queer but an upper-middle-class white queer in the South.

Is it scary to expose your personal life onstage?
When it's work, it's different from when it's your real life. I feel like as a trans person I feel exposed more often than I would like to. I don't always pass as a guy. In fact, I don't often pass as a guy. I'm always having to deal with people sort of dealing with me. In that respect, it's actually harder when I have to deal with it at the coffee shop than having to deal with it onstage. These are the stories that I want to tell, trying to make these difficult stories funny and accessible.

How hard is it in your daily life?
(Overall) I have pretty good interactions with people. I've been told I'm easy on the eyes. I'm white and blond. All these things that are culturally pleasing to a lot of people. To say that I'm trans too, people are, like, "OK, you don't look like a freak, so even if you are I can deal with that a little better." . . . I was assaulted in a women's bathroom by a woman a few years ago. It was this weird thing where she thought I was a guy and so she was having a fear-safety response. I managed to pull up my shirt in the middle of her attacking me. She could see my chest.

Things are changing for you now, right?
I fully came out as trans when I was about 21 years old. I'm 25 now. I started hormones six weeks ago. It is intense. I'm going through puberty again. It totally sucks. I wake up every morning and I have no idea what's gonna be happening with my body. It's crazy. My voice sounds deeper to me, but other people are, like, "You still sound like a girl." (Laughs.) I'm hairy and I feel self-conscious.

Some people might ask why you're putting yourself through this.
For me, it's a lot about other people. . . . The reason to go on hormones and really try to pass is more about the sort of avalanche of feeling that comes with every day having five or six encounters with people that are a little bit fraught . . . "Does this person think I'm a guy?" "Hey, buddy, you're in the wrong bathroom." But second puberty aside, it does feel really good to be in this place of, "Wow, I finally get to approximate this experience I've been thinking about for so long." I get to be on testosterone, deal with these things and see where it leads me. And I may end up in the body I wanted my whole life, that I always felt like I was supposed to have. At the same time, I know that everything is a little bit more complicated than that. What kind of a man was almost homecoming queen? I will always be that guy. And I'll be happy about that.

Su-jin Yim: 503-294-7611; suyim@news.oregonian.com