Features

Transgender at Stuyvesant: Transgressing Boundaries

Spread featuring trans kids at Stuy who talk about their high school experience and their experience being trans.

Reading Time: 9 minutes

As a student body, it is our duty to make sure that every student at Stuyvesant feels safe and welcome and that we acknowledge every single one of our peers with the same level of respect. However, the transgender community at Stuyvesant often goes unheard and unnoticed. Meet four transgender Stuyvesant students who each have something unique and special to add to the Stuyvesant community.

Eleanor Loprest, Agender (They/them)

Freshman Eleanor Loprest has always had a strong grasp of music. They first gravitated towards the piano at the age of two and a half, and they have sharpened their skills ever since, discovering their passion for singing and composing along the way.

However, Loprest’s understanding of gender is not nearly as strong as their understanding of music. In fact, they don’t have any grasp whatsoever on the concept of gender.

Loprest is perplexed by the gender binary, and thus does not identify as any gender at all. Instead, Loprest identifies as agender, a label used to indicate the lack of a gender identity.

Since coming to Stuyvesant, Loprest has found that their gender identity—or lack thereof—has confused many of their peers and teachers.

Yet, most people Loprest has encountered at Stuyvesant have made an effort to understand and respect Loprest’s identity despite their confusion, referring to Loprest with their preferred pronouns (they/them/their) and correcting people who misgender them.

Nevertheless, some people have a harder time using Loprest’s correct pronouns, like a teacher who resorted to not referring to Loprest with any pronouns and simply addressing them as “Eleanor.”

Seldom has Loprest felt directly attacked for being agender since coming to Stuyvesant, but there have been several instances where people have treated Loprest’s identity as a joke or insisted on addressing them with she/her pronouns.

Loprest has found the most welcoming communities at Stuyvesant to be the people they met through participating in the eighth period chorus, where they sing in the soprano 1 section, and Stuyvesant Spectrum, the SPARK club geared towards promoting LGBTQ+ causes and advocacy.

“My first thought when coming to Stuy[vesant] was ‘I need to find the queer people,’” they said. Since coming to Spectrum, they are happy to say that they have found the queer people they had been looking for and that they have a strong, passionate support system in a school that can sometimes feel so impersonal.

Stuyvesant is a challenge for everyone who walks through the cold metal doors of the bridge entrance each morning, but Loprest has begun their journey with their head held high. An intellectually curious person with high aspirations, they are happy to be at Stuyvesant. Despite the occasional bothersome and mildly transphobic comment, Loprest remains unfazed, and with an unbreakable smile across their face, they say, “A school stomping on my identity will not stop me from existing.”

Connie Walden, Genderqueer (They/them)

From the band room to the SPARK office, junior Connie Walden, with artificially colored hair and a distinct androgynous style, can be seen in all corners of the building carrying a messenger bag adorned with scores of pins.

Walden, a hacker, a trumpeter, a poet, and an activist, has made a name for themself in several ways since coming to Stuyvesant, but what many don’t know about Walden is that they identify as genderqueer and prefer to be addressed by they/them pronouns.

Since realizing they were gender non-binary in the beginning of their sophomore year, they have chosen to keep their gender identity relatively under the radar at Stuyvesant. “I don’t want it to be a defining factor of who I am. It’s not something that I want to be a big deal in my life,” they remarked, well aware that coming out as genderqueer entails confusion and possible harassment from peers.

Because Walden is well-acquainted with many different social circles at Stuyvesant, they are afraid that coming out to everyone at Stuyvesant will limit who they can be friends with.

They have found that many of their socially conservative friends make offensive jokes about non-binary genders and the transgender community as a whole. This practice doesn’t hurt Walden on a personal level, but is something they wish would stop.

Nevertheless, Walden has come out to many of their peers, facing a mixed array of reactions, not all of which have been positive.

For example, when they decided to wear eyeliner to school one day, they received several perplexed and sour glances, many of whom were from boys in the boys’ bathroom and locker room. “I’ve also received many positive, enthusiastic responses [to coming out], but they’re hard to notice when you’re scared to death of the negative responses,” Walden said.

While Walden has not found it easy to fully express their gender at Stuyvesant, they are taking cautious baby steps on their way to being comfortably out of the closet. “I’m out to several teachers, and I even go by Connie in some of my classes,” they said.

However, though many of Walden’s teachers are supportive and understanding, others harbor an old-fashioned mindset and don’t have a good understanding of what it means to be genderqueer.

To help people better understand matters involving the transgender community and other marginalized communities, Walden has dedicated much of their time to the causes they believe in. Recently, with the help of SPARK, they co-founded a publication at Stuyvesant with junior Pacy Yan called StuySpeaks, a space for underrepresented minorities to voice their struggles for liberation and social and economic equality.

Walden is also making a difference in the greater New York City community by volunteering at Bluestockings, a feminist, trans-friendly bookstore and café on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Walden described the environment of Bluestockings as radical, but comfortable.

“At Bluestockings, you don’t feel weird because of the gender you identify as. All volunteers are mandated to introduce themselves by their pronouns,” Walden explained.

Walden is also the president of StuyHack, a math and computer science enthusiast, and is equally invested in music and writing. Walden plays the trumpet for the Stuyvesant jazz band and won a Scholastic Gold Key Award for poetry this year.

The next time you see Walden roaming around the Stuyvesant building, don’t be shy to approach them, because you’ll be bound to spark up an intriguing conversation of your own.

Kiran Vuksanaj, Female (She/her)

Like many people whose middle school experiences were subpar, freshman Kiran Vuksanaj came to Stuyvesant looking to reinvent herself. However, to Vuksanaj, this meant more than a drastic change in style—she was going to begin publicly presenting as female. Starting high school was a chance for her to introduce herself to people by her preferred name, Kiran, and her preferred pronouns, she/her. “It’d be easier for people to get used to calling me by my preferred name and pronouns, since it’s not like they have to unlearn the old [name and pronouns],” Vuksanaj explained.

Vuksanaj had known she was a transgender girl since she was twelve years old, and even before she knew what the word “transgender” meant, she knew she never felt comfortable being called a boy.

Before she came to Stuyvesant, she was only out to several close friends and family members. Now, she has made sure that the Stuyvesant administration and all of her peers and teachers know her preferred name and pronouns.

Vuksanaj’s mother explained her situation to the Stuyvesant administration, and they did all they could to accommodate her. “They really do try and support me, which feels amazing. I’m allowed to use the right bathroom, and I have the right name on my ID card next to my legal name,” Vuksanaj noted.

She has also found the SPARK office and Spectrum, Stuyvesant’s gender and sexuality alliance, to be incredibly helpful resources. The SPARK office, as the school’s designated safe space, gives her a sense of social and emotional support.

Likewise, Spectrum has proven to be a passionate and supportive community of students, many of whom are transgender themselves.

Since coming to Stuyvesant, Vuksanaj has made an effort to surround herself with good people. She has particularly involved herself with Spectrum and the Transit Association, and she hopes to join more clubs in the future.

However, with every new club she has tried out, she has made sure to choose her friends wisely. “I know there are people [at Stuyvesant] who wouldn’t respect me, but I’ve done my best to avoid them,” she told me, though she said that she has occasionally heard derogatory comments in passing.

Through the Transit Association, Vuksanaj has been able to express her passion for transit systems. Reflecting on her love for trains, she said, “When I get into things, I get really into them.” As such, she has spent the past year expanding her knowledge of the MTA, exploring obscure buses and trains, and learning about their history.

Somewhat connected to her love of trains is her love of physics. Physics was Vuksanaj’s favorite subject in middle school, and she has considered it as a potential career option for the far future.

As a biracial and bisexual transgender girl, she knows that she is rather underrepresented in scientific fields, but, if anything, that has only further encouraged her. “I remember searching the internet for trans women who were successful in scientific fields, and finding out who they were was a really exciting and hope-filling moment for me,” she remarked.

A kind person with a passion for how things work, Vuksanaj has enjoyed her time at Stuyvesant thus far. She hopes to continue to make friends here and blossom as a scientist and a train enthusiast. Though it is not often that we see transgender women of color working in our labs, Vuksanaj can help pave the way for future Stuyvesant students, because she is a trailblazer in her own right.

Kris Khalilova, Genderfluid (They/them)

As soon as I sat down with sophomore Kris Khalilova for their interview, they were eager to tell me their emotional rollercoaster of a coming out story from start to finish.

Khalilova’s coming out story is quite unusual, because they came out as both pansexual and genderfluid, two labels entirely foreign to Khalilova’s traditional Russian family. “My parents are homophobic, so I grew up with a lot of internalized homophobia,” Khalilova remarked.

As such, Khalilova struggled with familial and self-acceptance when first discovering their identity, but it is these revelations that would shape the next chapter of Khalilova’s life.

At the time that Khalilova realized that they did not feel comfortable restricting themselves to a male or female gender identity, several of their middle school friends came to similar realizations.

Khalilova’s friends provided a sense of safety and community amidst a world of chaos and confusion. It was then that they and their friends were beginning the gruesome process of applying to high school.

For Khalilova, this process was especially challenging, because they had to research each school they considered applying to to determine whether or not it was a safe place for queer and transgender individuals.

When it came to making a final decision, Khalilova chose Stuyvesant because they had read in a news article that it was an LGBTQ+ friendly school.

Upon coming to Stuyvesant, however, they have found that this is not always the case. According to Khalilova, Stuyvesant is only “sort of okay” in terms of LGBTQ+ friendliness.

They seldom experience outright harassment for their identity, but they presume that is because they look traditionally female enough to pass as cisgender and straight.

Nevertheless, they hear people make derogatory jokes at the expense of the transgender community and patronizingly refer to transgender people as “special snowflakes,” comments that make them feel particularly uncomfortable. However, they know that most of these comments come from a place of ignorance and not hate.

“I may pass as female and have many of the societal advantages and disadvantages distinct to the female gender, but I am not a girl,” they told me matter-of-factly.

As a genderfluid person, Khalilova does not identify as a single gender—their gender identity varies by day. “Some days, I feel very girly, and other [days], I’m like, ‘Hey! I’m a dude!’ Sometimes I feel like neither,” they explained. For this reason, they feel that the gender neutral pronouns “they/them” fit them best.

The most open-minded, welcoming, and kind people Khalilova has met at Stuyvesant have been at Spectrum. A regular attendee of the club, they have found a sense of belonging there and made several lasting friendships. To Khalilova, Spectrum has been an especially helpful resource to have when their identity has left them at odds with their parents.

“Even though I have come out to my mom, she still refers to me as her daughter, and the only time my dad has ever spoken to me about my sexuality or gender was when he told me to take down the pride flag in my room because our relatives were coming over,” they said.

Though coming out has not been the easiest journey for Khalilova, they feel especially fortunate to be surrounded by good people at Stuyvesant.

A sweet, amiable person, all they wish is that Stuyvesant students would be more accepting of their transgender peers. “If someone you know has trusted you enough to tell you their true gender identity, don’t question them. Just love and accept them for who they are,” Khalilova advises the student body.

Even if you don’t consider yourself to be transphobic, they suggest you give their words some thought. After all, if everyone heeded Khalilova’s advice, Stuyvesant would be a significantly better place.


No two transgender students at Stuyvesant are the same, but they all have something in common: they are unique, creative individuals who, with their distinct brands of intellectual curiosity, are able to make Stuyvesant their home.