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When I come as a trans at 49, I knew there were a lot of battles ahead. I didn’t expect the email to be the one that made it clear I wasn’t.
Soon after I changed my job, I started working as a technician at a technology company where I used to work. I was happy to be back. During the preview, I wait in line and watch other recipients receive a laptop, find a seat, and set up their accounts. When it came time for me, the employee who was looking at me looked at me in amazement: My email account somehow already existed, but with someone else’s name. “Well,” I said, “I changed when I left. At first I had a different name.” The employee, unannounced, apologized and then went to speak to his manager. This machine was not designed to have a person like me.
I explained that my use of the name was illegal. It would confuse my co-workers and make sure my first conversation was about men and not my new job.
All morning, while I waited for an answer, I saw my new friends receive emails from their friends and managers and continued to climb. The problem was rectified thanks to my persistent manager, but I already felt behind me and didn’t want to move forward. No one should feel that they were not selected on their first working day, and I doubt that any organization wants new recruits to feel that way.
The change came with many risks, from how it would affect my family and loved ones to what it means for my career. Email is the last thing I, or any other passerby, should worry about.
Many progressive people face similar challenges in changing the work process in which their names and gender are found. In most cases, the machines cannot be changed, are bound to legal documents, or offer limited options. These failures make it difficult, often painful, for participants and non-business users to focus on their work and support their organizations.
The technology industry is known for cutting itself, for driving and changing. I have been using my life to achieve these goals in some of the most exciting companies in the world. Yet even though they are very sophisticated, looking forward among them, big platforms like email and HR are failing the working class. Professional companies, who pride themselves on using technology to solve problems and provide better working conditions, need to be pioneer in response.
Many of these companies support LGBTQ + employees and change their logo and rainbow every June. Many also provide benefits with key working groups. But even though they have good intentions, their HR systems speak differently: that a small group of people are behind it.
Organizations can’t wait until they meet their “first” nonprofits or modifiers to make sure their HR systems are integrated and supportive. Can you imagine a profitable package that allows only one child, because no employee has more than one child? Or an HR program that can’t fulfill an employee’s birthday earlier than 1990, because no adult has ever worked?
Machines and applications should allow employees to express themselves, rather than being defined by gender concepts, pronouns, and legitimate names. The integration of integration as non-permanent should also apply to standard machines, communication tools, and harvesting programs. It should be easy to not only change your personal information but also your profile pictures and remove existing ones for information such as calls or names.
This problem is not limited to professionalism. Changing names and pronunciations is a very difficult process for legal documents, publications, and online accounts. For example, in the writing world, engineers cannot change a name that is linked to their git commits (who keep track of project writing and allow others to donate) without rewriting the history of everything they have built. User IDs must be modified without any employee losing access to their profiles. If technology doesn’t exist for this to happen, it’s time to build.
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