Researching while cisgender: Identity considerations for transgender research

With the recent change in leadership structure for the International Journal of Transgenderism, and, as one of nine recently appointed associate editors of the journal, I was honored to be given the opportunity to write this editorial. I read with great interest the previous editorial by Dr. Jaimie F. Veale (2017) in which she reflected on being the first transgender person to serve in a leadership role for the journal. Given the significance of her appointment as associate editor, it makes good sense to consider the impact of having a trans individual who publically identifies as such represented in the journal leadership. Veale (2017) highlighted two benefits of having visible trans researchers in the field: (a) increased visibility of trans professionals/academics helps to dispel the perception that trans individuals serve the field primarily as subjects of inquiry (as patients or participants) and (b) trans identified researchers positively impact the range of content of what is written/said/known regarding trans individuals in ways that align with the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH)'s vision to promote “health, research, education, respect, dignity, and equality” for transgender and gender nonconforming individuals (WPATH, n.d., para. 3). On these points, Veale and I agree. I would further argue, however, that it is equally important to consider the impact of having an overrepresentation of cisgender researchers in a field that frames our understanding of transgender identity and experience.

I am a research psychologist focused on understanding the intersections of sexual orientation and gender identity, with an emphasis on bi-/pansexual and transgender identity and experience. I am accustomed to conducting research that, at times, addresses topics relative to my own identities (e.g., as a sexual minority, bi-/pansexual, woman) and that, at other times, addresses experiences and identities different from my own (e.g., transgender, White, male). When conducting research on sexual minorities, often my research ideas reflect something from my personal experience—something I have often experienced or wondered about myself. Often my research findings have implications for policy or resources from which sexual minorities (myself included) may benefit. My relative proximity to the topic shapes my research approach and even who may see value in my research (Galupo, 2011).

When conducting research on transgender and gender nonconforming individuals, my research ideas do not originate from my own personal experience of identity and research questions may or may not be ones that address the immediate needs of the community. As a cisgender researcher studying transgender experience and identity, I enjoy the privilege of others perceiving me and my research as “objective.” However, it would be a mistake to not recognize that my relative distance from the topic impacts my research approach. Transgender research involves studying experience that is positioned as nonnormative and consequentially conceptualized relative to the celebrated (cisgender) norm. As a cisgender researcher, then, my identity is an important consideration and potential source of bias. When conducting transgender-related research my experience as a cisgender woman shapes (a) the way I formulate research questions, (b) my evaluation and selection of measures, (c) the way I might phrase questions in an interview or survey, (d) the way potential participants regard my intentions as a researcher and their decision to participate or not, (e) the degree to which participants may share certain experiences or the language they use to communicate their experiences (Bender-Baird, 2008), (f) the way I interpret and frame my results, and (g) the way my research is regarded by others in the field based on my cis identity (as objective and relatively unbiased perhaps, or even as out of touch and insensitive). Admittedly, this is not close to an exhaustive list of considerations but as a researcher I try to be mindful to check my assumptions about gender with each methodological decision and at critical junctures in the research process.

I also know that because normative identities go largely unexplored in society and in research (Galupo, Mitchell, & Davis, 2015; May, 2015), I am rarely expected to reflect on the ways that my cisgender identity impacts the research I conduct. My own cisgender privilege (see Serano, 2007) is made more salient by the fact that, in the scientific community, training hasn't emphasized this type of introspection or put into place a process for rigorously addressing the biases that come with our collective and pervasive cisgender lens.

Increasing the number of transgender researchers, training emerging researchers, and advancing trans individuals into professional leadership positions—all are necessary, but not alone sufficient, steps in transforming the field. True representation and better science demands that, as cisgender researchers, we actively acknowledge our “cis-ness” and intentionally engage with trans perspectives. To achieve true inclusion, we have to address the ways dominant cisgender perspectives continue to shape our scholarship. This means (a) reading, citing, and fully considering the scholarship conducted by trans-identified researchers in our own work and when critiquing the work of others; (b) collaborating with researchers who reflect diverse experiences of gender; (c) conducting community-based research and/or inviting input from trans individuals regarding research questions of interest and approaches that may benefit trans communities; (d) adding to our academic literature with research approaches that assess validity of our methods by inviting trans individuals to reflect upon the theories we advance (e.g., Veale, Clark, & Lomax, 2012) or the scientific measures used (e.g., Galupo, Mitchell, Grynkiewicz, & Davis, 2014); (e) asking trans individuals to provide input regarding their experience when participating in our studies; (f) when presenting results, including a statement of reflexivity regarding how the identities of the research team may have impacted the research process; (g) addressing the ways we haven't been able to account for our cisgendered assumptions when writing about our study limitations; (h) critiquing other researchers' work with these same standards in mind (this is important at every level of research consideration as consumers of research, in our capacity as peer reviewers, and when making editorial decisions); and (i) developing formal guidelines and training for thinking about how our individual and collective cisgender identities impact the research we produce and the direction of the field.

These considerations are not just matters of inclusion and representation; they are of scientific importance with regard to ecological validity. I invite continued discussion of how we can collectively reflect on these issues as a research community and how we can support each other in such efforts.