Growing up in the hills of east Tennessee, Kelly Jenkins was an all-star on his baseball team — and sometimes, he wore make-up to practice.
As a young boy, he dreamed of what felt like an unattainable career. He didn’t want to be a sports star or an astronaut. He wanted to be a teacher.
“Everybody told me it was a horrible idea,” Jenkins remembered. “They said, ‘Nobody will ever hire you as a transgender woman.’ ”
This school year transgender students have been in the spotlight, from President Trump’s decision to rescind rules aimed at protecting them to the Texas legislature battling over a bathroom bill.
However, there has been less focus on how schools can be difficult and challenging places for transgender teachers.
Becoming A Teacher
Kelly Jenkins’ path to teaching started as a firefighter.
Jenkins picked the most masculine profession he could think of, hoping that being a firefighter would convince him that he wasn’t transgender. Jenkins’ favorite part of that job? Doing fire safety presentations at schools.
Eventually, Jenkins decided to become both a woman and a teacher. But, as he started taking hormones, he knew that he needed a strategy. He decided to present himself as a man at school, but be a woman at home.
In the mid-2000s, Jenkins started her teaching career at Knox County Schools in Tennessee.
"I didn't tell anybody anything," she remembered. Until, a few months in, she confided in a co-worker.
"She went to my principal the next day and told him," Jenkins said. When it came time for the district to renew her contract, Jenkins says she was not rehired. She believes it was because she's transgender.
In a statement, Knox County Schools did not comment on Jenkins’ specific situation. However, they said they are an equal opportunity employer, including not discriminating based on sex. They did not mention gender specifically.
Jenkins says over the next few years a pattern emerged: get a new job, then someone finds out, and — within the same year — her contract isn't renewed. This would happen even when the state had a shortage of teachers in her subject area.
"In some of my classes, like half of my kids were pulled out of it," Jenkins said.
Jenkins says it wasn’t just the parents who were upset that she was transgender. Her colleagues stopped including her in staff meetings.
“It felt like walking into silence,” she remembered. “And the one thing that made it all bearable was the students.”
But, it was ultimately too much, and Jenkins gave up.
"I delivered pizzas for a living, with a Bachelor’s in Forestry and a post-graduate certificate in education."
Eventually, Jenkins started doing research on other places where she could use her teaching skills. She found a camp for transgender youth where she volunteered, and she looked up other states with more protections for people who are transgender.
Then, she made up her mind: “I packed my car — my four-door Honda Civic — and I drove to Massachusetts and I left everything else.”
Making Massachusetts Home
“So, are these leopard frogs?”
Kelly Jenkins is peering into a bucket of frogs at Wellesley Middle School. She’s a teaching assistant here, prepping for a 7th grade frog dissection.
Carefully picking up a frog, Jenkins inspects it. “They’re going to open it up and check the tongue out, which it still has. That's always good!” she said.
When the halls fill with students, Jenkins is busy racing between classes and working with different students. It feels like any other classroom, although one boy was eager to say that while he is not transgender, he's a big fan of Ms. Jenkins.
David Lussier, superintendent of Wellesley Public Schools, says that Jenkins’ young fan is one among many.
“Everything that I’ve heard has been very positive," he said.
He says he hasn’t received any push back from parents or community members. His explanation for this is simple: “First and foremost, Kelly is an excellent educator.”
Jenkins has now been teaching in Wellesley for two years. Lussier says she wasn’t hired for being transgender, but she has helped the district become more open.
“Having Kelly’s guidance on that has been a huge help to us," Lussier said.
He says this is particularly true as the district accommodates students who are questioning their gender. Jenkins has spoken with classes, launched her own TV show and mentored students.
I get to go home and walk my dogs and not worry, 'Am I going to be fired?'
Mace, who is now in high school, is one of those students. Mace is glad there is a transgender teacher in the district.
“It’s really nice because it’s not really easy to find other trans people out in the world," Mace said.
For Jenkins, this is the first time in her teaching career that she's not nervous about being asked to move on.
“I pinch myself because I’ve never got to taste this," she said. "I get to go home and walk my dogs and not worry, 'Am I going to be fired?'"
Kelly Jenkins says she's saving up in the hopes of maybe getting licensed as a science teacher in Massachusetts, her new home state.
WGBH’s coverage of K-12 education is made possible with support from the Nellie Mae Education Foundation.
