Coming Out as a Transgender Little League Baseball Umpire

With the 2019 Little League World Series champion being crowned today, it is time to share my experiences as a transgender Little League Baseball umpire and how that may be historical in and of itself.

This season was my 14th consecutive season volunteering as a Little League Baseball umpire. I was honored to be selected to umpire on the crew for the championship game of Northern California Little League State Tournament, which sent a team that later came within about six outs of qualifying for the World Series. I have visions of being selected to a regional tournament and even the World Series, and the work I put in on the field is good enough to get me there with continued training and mentorship if I keep learning and executing.

However, when I came out as transgender in 2016 and began living full-time as a woman, my dreams were nearly dashed as I faced a backlash from my local league despite my experience and previous training.

I have always loved baseball. I played Little League when I was young. The nerd in me kept my own statistics, and the kid in me thought a .250 batting average was good. I thought I could steal bases like the wind. Honestly, I was probably one of the weakest kids on the team. By rule, Little League now mandates that 12-year-olds play on a Majors team. Not in my day, and I was one of the few 12-year-olds that played on a Minor team. That was the true measure of my playing ability.

Despite not being a top-flight athlete, I have always loved baseball. The know-it-all in me also loves rules of competition. I studied rule books and knew the penalties for obstruction better than my coaches. While my friends were out eating hot dogs after our Saturday morning game, I was looking to put my knowledge to the test and offered to volunteer to umpire lower-division games later in the day, and occasionally, I would get that opportunity.

After age 13, I stopped playing baseball on organized teams because I knew I was not that skilled. From then on, I would be a spectator of Major League Baseball and passionately support my San Francisco Giants.

About 15 years later while attending college for the second time, I saw an advertisement seeking umpires for the local Little League. While I was already busy with coursework and a retail job, I was fascinated that I had chance to actually get trained doing something I enjoyed as a kid. I went to an all-day clinic that covered the basics of umpiring: how to properly calls balls and strikes, where to be positioned depending on the game situation, how angle was greater than distance when making a call, game management strategies, and so much more information I soaked up like a sponge. The clinic was taught by my first mentor, and just last year, he was honored with working the plate for the Little League World Series championship game.

In that first year, I must have worked over 140 games. I arranged with my retail manager to be off work by 4 PM, so that I could make it to the fields to work 5 PM & 7:30 PM games under the lights. I was on the field so much, the league donated the protective gear I was borrowing from them to do games behind the plate to me at the end of the season. My district put me on their staff to work tournament games—including two Sectional games—and voted me Rookie of the Year at our umpire appreciation BBQ at the end of the season. They rewarded me with plate shoes I still wear today.

Over the years, I would continue to improve my skills by attending clinics and working more games. Through my first district, I would work my first state tournament game. When I moved with my then-girlfriend/future wife to the East Bay, I sought out a new league and a new district and continued to volunteer. I met more mentors and colleagues I would come to admire and watched them achieve high honors. I used my knowledge to become an umpire instructor myself, so that I could pass on my passion for the game to other up-and-coming volunteers. When our family moved again, I found myself in a third, smaller district, but the dedication of the umpires was equally as strong.

When my son became T-Ball eligible, I began volunteering in his local league. My reputation as a quality umpire proceeded me, and this tiny league of only 100 or so players was in dire need of volunteers, so I was a welcome addition to the program. By my second year in the league, I was elected Umpire-in-Chief and was asked to help build the umpiring program. I held that position for two years. And then… I announced my plans to transition.

During the off-season and just months before I went full-time, I nervously informed the Board of Directors of my what was going on in my life. At first, I was celebrated for being brave. By the time the season was about to begin and word around the league had spread, managers and coaches were threatening a walkout if I showed up to their beginning of the year meeting. The president of the league warned me ahead of time that this was a possibility. He said that managers had questions and wondered if I would do things like wear a skirt on the field or otherwise draw attention to myself.

My credibility was being challenged. The reaction had nothing to do with how I performed on the field. My wife and I also had serious concerns about how our son would be treated during that upcoming season. My wife recommended that I resign my position as Umpire-in-Chief and not rock the boat in the effort in an effort to protect him. I weighed my options and took everything into consideration.

Ultimately, I could not let this type of outright discrimination and fear win. I did not resign my position, and I showed up to the managers’ meeting. To quell some of the unfounded concerns, I came in full uniform, complete with pants, shoes, and hat. I wore make-up and earrings, but I kept everything subtle. The president talked up my résumé (he actually oversold my experience), and I presented my take on the upcoming year. Despite the threats, no manager or coach visibly walked away. There was no mass exodus.

As the season went on, I unfairly had to win back the adults. I did so by sticking to my training and excelling on the field. I treated everyone with respect, and I expected it in return. I was afraid that I might have to eject an adult at some point in the season for a personal attack against me, but it never happened. They did not bother me, and I did not bother them. I did my best to be the leader I have always tried to be on that field, and no child or adult was harmed by me expressing my true gender identity.

The 2016 season was one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I was constantly misgendered. I was stared at by some of the players, and on at least one occasion, I heard a derisive comment before a game started as I arrived on a field. My all-male district staff, who had been supportive of me continued to support me, but they also mocked me for painting my nails or applying lipstick before a tournament game. Still, my work ethic did not change. I continued to learn, to improve my game.

Contrary to popular opinion, the primary job of a Little League umpire is not to call balls & strikes and safes & outs; it is to be a leader and role model on the field. The adults that surrounded me in those first seasons after I came out unknowingly pushed me to excel, as I had to become even better to overcome the inherent bias against me. Thankfully, my district recognized my commitment, and they have continued to reward me with important games in tournaments.

Baseball is incredibly male-dominated. No female has ever played in Major League Baseball. No female umpire has ever umpired a regular season MLB game (although, there are finally two that are making their way through the high Minor leagues.) In Little League, only six women have ever been selected to a World Series crew, including Kelly Dine, who today became only the second female ever to work the plate of the championship game in the Little League World Series. If I ever make it to that elite level, I would likely make history as the first ever transgender woman (if not first trans person) to be chosen.

Recently, I was invited to a select group called Women in Blue, a set of about 500 female umpires at all levels of baseball and softball. The lead admin of the group shared with me that she knew of no other transgender umpires. A Google search does not bear any fruit, either. Truly, I am a rare breed.

The weekend before I went full-time, I attended a training at the Little League Western Region Headquarters. That weekend was literally the last time I ever presented male, as I did not want to distract from the reason we were all there. However, over the course of the weekend, I came out to a few select people, as I was worried about the type of reaction I would receive in the Little League community, which seems to be very conservative and not ready for someone like me. Most were receptive to my coming out and did not think I should be affected. At least one person was on the fence about it. I came away with a sense that the region will ultimately be supportive of me, and as long as I continue my dedication to the craft, I should be afforded continued success without being curbed by discrimination. While I have not met Kelly, I have met other female umpires, and they inspire me to overcome and push forward with my dreams.

My 15th season will begin on the heels of my recovery from bottom surgery, but I expect to be back on my local league’s field at the beginning of the season. This off-season, I will submit my name for a regional tournament for only the second time in my life and hope to receive a Golden Ticket to be a part of a special regional crew. A successful bid would make history in the Western Region tournament, and I would be one step closer to making history in Williamsport, PA, home of the Little League World Series. It took years to regain that support, but I do have some, and I continue to demonstrate my leadership and skill as part of the best team on the field.

One of my dreams is to be where Kelly stood today. In the meantime, I will continue learning from the best and earn my way to the top. I will do it as the authentic me, and I will not let any form of discrimination stand in my way. I am proud to be a volunteer Little League umpire, and I love what I do. As one of our great mentors reminds us every year, Little League is not a baseball or softball program. Little League is a leadership program. Baseball and softball are just the vehicles. Even in a male-dominated sport, females can lead the way, and I strive to be one of the very best leaders on the field of any gender, inspiring players and adults alike through a sport I love. And maybe, just maybe, I can make a little history along the way.