Jacob Nash Interview, 04 August 2023

Abstract

Jacob Nash (b. 1964) grew up in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, before moving to Ohio in 1999. He discusses coming out as a transgender man in the 1990s and becoming involved in transgender and LGBTQ+ community activism after seeking a marriage license in the 2000s. Nash discusses moving to Akron and becoming active in LGBTQ+ communities and spaces in Cleveland and Akron while working between both cities. He discusses his involvement in TransFamily, TransAlive, and the LGBT Community Center of Greater Cleveland. Nash describes various barriers faced by transgender communities in Cleveland and Akron and the events that led to his founding Margie's Hope in Akron in 2011 and Margie's Closet in Lakewood in 2021.

Interviewee

Nash, Jacob (interviewee)

Interviewer

Habyl, Riley (interviewer)

Project

LGBTQ+ Cleveland

Date

8-4-2023

Document Type

Oral History

Duration

154 minutes

Recommended Citation

"Jacob Nash Interview, 04 August 2023" (2023). Cleveland Regional Oral History Collection. Interview 701007.
https://engagedscholarship.csuohio.edu/crohc000/1267

Transcript

Jacob Nash [00:00:05] Mhm.

Riley Habyl [00:00:06] Today's date is Friday, August 4th, 2023. This is Riley Habyl with the LGBTQ+ Cleveland Voices Oral History Collection. I'm interviewing Jacob Nash remotely from his home in Akron, Ohio. So, hi Jacob. Thank you very much for speaking with me today.

Jacob Nash [00:00:23] My pleasure. Any time.

Riley Habyl [00:00:26] Would you be able to state and spell your name for the record?

Jacob Nash [00:00:29] Absolutely. Jacob Nash, J-a-c-o-b N-a-s-h.

Riley Habyl [00:00:37] So, Jacob, when and where were you born?

Jacob Nash [00:00:40] I was born in 1964 in Fitchburg, Massachusetts.

Riley Habyl [00:00:47] Could you tell me a little bit about your childhood and family background?

Jacob Nash [00:00:50] Sure. So, I am one of six children, three of which were adopted. So, I—. In birth order, technically I'm the middle child, but once my brothers were adopted I became the second oldest. But my childhood—. We lived a middle-class life, pretty much. My mother was a nurse and my father was a Master Sergeant for the Air National Guard. But both of them were pacifists, interestingly enough. My father working for the military but he's a pacifist. And so, very early on in life my parents taught me the importance of social justice and why that work is critical to our country. Critical to our First Amendment rights. Standing up, speaking out. Voicing when you know that something is not right. And so, from a very early age I can remember going with my mother to anti-nuclear rallies to protest against the nuclear power plants that they were building at the time in the seventies, and antiwar rallies against the Vietnam War. And so, you know, my family—. My parents were very much, like I said, social justice people. They were family oriented. When the war was going on—the Vietnam War was going on, we adopted—fostered, adopted a full family that came over from Vietnam, and they lived with us for several years. And to this day, they are st—they're considered family. So, you know, as—. My family was accepting of all people. My—. Both of—. Well, all of us kids actually at some point or another dated people of color. My youngest sister married a black man. I have biracial nieces and nephews. My—. Two of my brothers were from Korea, and my third brother was from Bogota, Colombia. So we have a very eclectic family, I like to say. Because of my parents, and my parents' love for people, they often opened their home up to children with medical needs from other countries. They were working with Heal the Children, so children from other countries would come over and live with us for a period of time. They would get medical—you know, necessary surgeries—live with us, and then they would go back home. All except for one young man. This one young man had a heart condition. And now this was—we're talking in the eighties. He had a heart condition, and he had to have a blood transfusion. But unfortunately part of the blood transfusion—. He ended up getting AIDS from it. And so, we—. My parents petitioned Congress to allow his parents to come over and be with him so that his parents would be there when he passed away. And thank goodness, they were able to do so and got them over in time. And so they too have become part of our family as well. So, you know, I was brought up Christian. My faith is very important to me. My father's Catholic, my mother was Protestant, so it was a—even a mixed religious household. So, we struggled even though we were a middle-class family because we had lots of people in and out of our homes, and—. But we were able to help lots of children and people. And, you know, one of the children that had another heart condition—his surgery was successful. He went back home to Korea, and he is still part of our family. My sisters and my father went to—went over to Korea for his wedding. I was not allowed, because he does not approve of me being trans [transgender]—but that's a whole 'nother story. But, you know, my family was very important to their family. You know, his children are named after my parents because that's how close we were with him, and my parents basically saved his life.

Riley Habyl [00:06:18] Could you tell me a little bit about where you went to school, like your educational background?

Jacob Nash [00:06:24] Sure. So, I grew up going to Catholic school, interestingly enough. So, as a trans guy—. Now, imagine growing up in the seventies and eighties when girls had to—and they still do, to some extent—girls had to wear skirts. And when the school that I was going to—or, I don't know if it was the pope or one of the bishops or somebody—approved for girls to wear these polyester pants. And as soon as that was approved, I was in those pants, you know, because I could not do the skirt thing. So, I graduated from Saint Peter Marian Central Catholic High School in Worcester, Massachusetts, which is where I grew up. Then I went to Berkshire Christian College. I majored in youth ministries. Halfway through Berkshire, I transferred to Gordon College, which is on the North Shore in Massachusetts. I graduated with a degree in youth ministries and human services. Then in 2009, I went back to school to get my master's in diversity—well, master's in psychology diversity management—from Cleveland State University, and graduated in 2014.

Riley Habyl [00:08:11] Sort of related to that note, could you give me a broad overview of your occupational background?

Jacob Nash [00:08:20] Mhm, sure. I like to say, you know, I'm a jack of all trades, master of none. Because while I studied youth ministries, I never actually worked within a church. I grew up going to Christian camp since I was in fourth grade, and my mother was the camp nurse there for years. And I worked at this camp until—during the summers until I graduated college. And then after college, I worked there again for two more years. But I was a chef at the camp for—after I graduated college. I did almost every position at the camp, from music director, to counselor, to resource director, to working in the country store, to a unit leader. So, I did almost every position at the camp. Ah, in the kitchens as well. The only thing I wasn't was a lifeguard, because I was not certified. Then I went on to work at a bank, and then I worked in a bakery. I worked for Au Bon Pain for many, many years. They were bought out by Panera. So, I was a baker, and then I worked in a deli for a short period of time. Then I worked with people with intellectual differences, and I worked in a residential home. And then in 1999 I moved to Ohio, and I worked more with people with intellectual differences in workshops and such. And then—. Then I became disabled, so I wasn't able to work, per se, but I still did a lot of—. I ended up doing—. My work was my volunteering, and my volunteering was pretty much—. I started a trans [transgender] support group in 2007, because there was no—. There was only one transgender support group in Northeast Ohio—and that was out of Cleveland, and that was called TransFamily. And when I moved here in 2—. In—. When I moved here, there were—I didn't know about anything. And then in 2000, I found TransFamily. Started being involved with TransFamily. It was evident that there was a need in the Akron-Canton area, and so I started a group in Akron. And because so many people were coming from Youngstown, and Canton, and Mansfield, and Alliance, and Massillon, you know, Cleveland was much further. And so in 2007, I started a support group. And then I started working with a lot of the leaders in Cleveland, working on policy issues. 2009 we got—. And—. And I—. And this, like I said, this is all kind of—. It wasn't my work, because I never got paid for it, but it was my passion. Then in 2009—. So, I could tell you a lot about the different stuff I did. So then I started working policy work with folks, with the leadership of folks in Cleveland and in Akron. Then I formed a nonprofit called Margie's Hope in 2011. And then in 2021 we opened Margie's Closet [1384 W.117th St., Lakewood], which is the first retail clothing store in the midwest—that I'm aware of—that takes in donations, turns it turns them around, and resells them for small profit to service folks within the trans [transgender] community. Anybody can come in to the store, but it's a safe space for trans individuals to be able to go and get clothing, feel comfortable, and so on and so forth, while providing more funding for folks within the trans community. And since then, I've been figuring out what I want to do now, because I stepped away from Margie's Hope work in 2022, so last year. So, that's kind of like what I've done. Oh, and I also do home repair work on the side to get a little bit of extra money. And I've also—. But I keep forgetting all these little things that I did. I also was a professor at Case Western [Reserve University] in their Mandel School of Social Work. And I also do diversity training consulting. I've consulted with several companies, organizations. I was also—. You know, I've done training work. Not just on LGBT issues, but cultural competency, racial understanding, and so on. I think that's it. (laughs)

Riley Habyl [00:14:32] Before we dive a little deeper into your history of advocacy work—. If we could circle back a little bit to your childhood—

Jacob Nash [00:14:41] Sure.

Riley Habyl [00:14:42] You've mentioned that when you were in Catholic school, you were uncomfortable wearing skirts. Were you—. Did you have any awareness at that time about your gender identity, and your—. Did you have any understanding of gender, or of trans [transgender] identities at that time?

Jacob Nash [00:14:58] No, the only thing I knew was that I knew I was different. I thought I should be a boy, but I didn't know it was possible. I mean, I remember at seven years old trying to stand and pee like boys do. And needless to say, it didn't go very well. But, you know, I tried nonetheless, and—. You know, that wasn't even a topic of conversation. I mean, we were barely—. In '64 we weren't even talking about the gay community, let alone trans individuals, let alone trans men. So, you know, it didn't come—. I didn't find out about it until 1998 when I saw a movie called What Sex Am I? And after I saw that film, that's when the words came out and there was a, "Oh my gosh, I can actually do this, and this is who I really am," because I was—. You know, I was seen as your typical tomboy back then. You know, climbing trees, riding bikes, going fishing, you know, those type of things. I didn't do the girl things. And while I know that not every tomboy, you know, ends up transitioning, I certainly was that person. You know, my sexual orientation—. Back then I was told girls date boys and get married to boys. Because even still, you know, in the seventies and eighties we still weren't talking about the gay community. Except for—. Well, even then I didn't really even know about AIDS, or understand it very much, you know. And so—. And it wasn't that my friends, my parents were homophobic or transphobic. It just wasn't talked about because we didn't know of anybody in our family at that point that was gay or trans, and so it wasn't talked about, you know, that—. You've got those—. You know, we have those blinders on if we don't know about something, or hear about something, we're not personally privy to it. You know, even privilege. You know, until we are in the midst of oppression, we don't understand the privilege that we have. You know? So, I didn't have the language back then to talk about who I was. And it's interesting because, you know, I told my family—. So, I saw this movie in May of '98. I went to—. Back then, there was a whole—. You had to—. There was only one in my area—. There was only one gender clinic, and it was at Trinity College in Connecticut. And at the time, I was living in New Hampshire so I had to travel to—. Because there were no counselors that knew anything about working with transgender people back then, you know, so I ended up having to travel to this gender clinic. I had to be seen by five different doctors and be approved by these doctors to transition. I had to get a letter. I had to get permission to, you know, start on hormones. You know, back then we had to wait a year before you could even have any type of surgery or anything, and so there was a whole process. And so, I told my family in the fall. Started with my siblings. I had gone home to tell my family, but my parents weren't there. So I told my siblings and I told them, "Don't tell mom or dad." And so, then I had to talk to my mom on the phone because I wasn't home, and I didn't want to wait too long to tell her since my siblings knew. And so, you know, I followed her and did the usual chit-chat, and then—. You know, my mom and I weren't very close. Not because I didn't want to have a relationship with her. I just didn't know how to. You know, both my sisters had great relationships with my mom, but I just didn't know how. And my mom, even I—. I remember—. My mom and I—. The last thing that my mother and I did together by ourselves was—. She took me to go see The Joy Luck Club, and after she's like, "Oh my gosh. Wasn't that such a great movie?" And I was like, "It's okay. It wasn't my cup of tea." And she started crying and bawling, "I don't understand. I don't know how to get through to you. I love you. I want to be friends with you. I want to be close to you." And I was like, "I don't know what to tell you," because I didn't know. I didn't know how to do it, you know? And so, you know, we started off the usual conversation and then I said, "Well, mom, there's something I need to tell you." And I said, "I'm just going to come out and tell you." I said, "I'm a boy and I'm going to have a sex change," of course, because that's what it was called back then. And she's like, "Oh." And I said, "That's not what you thought I was gonna tell you, was it?" She said, "No." I said, "You thought I was going to tell you that I was a lesbian, weren't you—didn't you?" And she's like, "Yes." I'm like, "Sorry." (laughs) You know? But I said, "You know, you've always told me to march to the beat of my own drummer." And that was the thing that—. You know, I was very much of a loner growing up. I didn't have any friends in high school. I had two—. Well, it wasn't until high school that I really had friends, and that was my sophomore year of college—sophomore year of high school where I found two of my best friends. And lo and behold, one of them during—after high school, she came out as a lesbian. So did my other friend. So, you know what—. They say you always find each other, not realizing it sometimes, you know. And so my mom was like, "Okay." And she's—. she's like, "Tell me more." And so my mom—being the nurse, you know—went to try and find more information out. Of course, back then there was very little internet information. Every time you type in transsexual—because that was the word back then—you got porn for the most part, you know. And so, I told my mother that I was going to start on testosterone in December of '98. And she's like, "Well, can you wait? And can we have a meeting with the counselor that diagnosed you?" And I said, "Um, sure, we can have a meeting. But no, I'm not going to wait," because I knew that if I waited I may not ever start, you know, And it wasn't because I was trying to disrespect my mother, it was—I knew that I had to do it for me. And so—. And I know this is long, you know, from the question that you asked, but it all ties in. So, when we all went—and we went as a family. The only person that did not go was my brother Andrew because at that point he had kind of like, estranged himself from the family. So my brother-in-law—who was married to my sister, the man of color, Bert—he said, you know, "Okay, I'll start off." He said, you know, "We don't understand this. We've known her all her life, and this just doesn't make any sense," you know, "You're saying you meet with her for an hour, and now you're saying that she's a guy and it just—. You know, we've known her and this doesn't make sense." And my mother chimed in right after and she said, "Bert, I'm sorry, but I've known him all his life, and it makes perfect sense." And she looked at me and she said, "I'm so sorry I didn't know about this sooner—I didn't know anything about this sooner, or I would have done something about it." And I said, "Mom," I said, "I didn't even have the language, so I didn't—. How do you talk about something that you know that you think you are, but, you know—but you're told that you're not? So, how do you talk about that? Especially when there's no language, especially when there's—. You know, I didn't have the words to talk about it." I said, "But I do now." And I don't remember anything else in that whole conversation, except I knew that. And so, I kind of jumped ahead of Bert—jumped ahead of it, because I didn't tell you about my father's reaction. Well, my dad is a man—. You don't ever know how he's going to react or respond to something, and so I always walked on eggshells around my father. And so I said to my mom, "Okay, so how are we going to tell dad?" And she says, "I'm not going to tell him. That's up to you." I said, "Okay." I said, "Well, here's my thought. I'll take him out—I'll take you both out to eat, and I'll tell him there." She said, "Okay, sounds good," because I knew he wouldn't yell at me or anything in public. And so when I did that—. When I took him out, I said, "Hey, dad, you know, we're out because there's something I need to share with you," and so I told him. And he said, "Well, you know. Hey, it's your life. You've got to live it. So, you know. To each their own." And I was like, okay, that was a better response than I thought I was going to get. So then, fast forward 2000. So, yeah, in 2000—June of 2000, my mother dies unexpectedly. Prior to my mother passing—. Two weeks prior, Erin—my soon to be ex—and I went to Massachusetts for a wedding for a family member that we didn't even know. It was a—. It was a relation of my aunt's who had just gotten remarried, so it was her new husband's daughter. But it was an opportunity to go home and see family. So before we left, you know. Erin—. Erin had come home before with me, and she'd met my family and stuff. And so, when we were there, you know, we're sitting watching Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, when my parents came home and I had my arm around Erin. No big deal. Well, to my father, it was a big deal. So, the next day before we left my mother says, "Can we sit down and talk?" So, we sat down and talked for 4 hours and she said, "You know, your father is very confused, and was kind of upset when he came home and saw your arm around Erin." And I said, "Well, mom, who did he think I was going to be with?" And she said, "I don't think he really thought about it." You know, because prior—actually, I was married to a guy because I—. That's what I thought I was supposed to do. Get married, have 2.5 kids, you know, all that kind of stuff. And within a year I was divorced because I couldn't do it, you know. So, I know that was a very long answer to your question, and I know it went into some other details, but that's kind of how my—. How I grew up, and kind of like the overview of, you know, me and—. You know, prior to understanding who I was, though, I was [a] very depressed kid. I was suicidal. I was—didn't like myself. And not because—. And I wasn't a bad kid, I just—. I couldn't relate to the person that I saw in the mirror, you know? And it wasn't until I started my transition, until I had the language that I was like, "Oh my gosh, now this makes total sense. This makes sense as to why I didn't like myself, why I never liked wearing dresses or skirts or looking like a girl or being like a girl. That was just never me." You know? And once I started my transition, the suicidal ideation went away. The depression lifted. It was a different—. It was a different kind of depression and anxiety after. It wasn't—. I wasn't depressed because I didn't like myself, I was depressed because of how society saw me. You know, the anxiety was, "Oh, what are people going to think? What are people going to say?" Because back then, I mean, we weren't talking about it, let alone being open and upfront about it. So again, I know that was a long answer.

Riley Habyl [00:28:18] No, no worries. If I ask a question, it's no problem to go whatever direction you'd like, 'cause it—. Like you said, everything is—. It's incredibly relevant and important, so no worries about that either. I know that you mentioned in—when you were growing up as a child in the seventies, that you didn't have any access to—. There wasn't any trans [transgender] visibility in the media, or the people were talking about. Did that—. Had that changed at all by the time that you had started to transition in the nineties?

Jacob Nash [00:28:51] No, the only—. The only—. The only real thing that had happened that was somewhat in the news—. And this was—. And this is in '98, Boys Don't Cry. Well, Boys Don't Cry came out in 2000, but Brandon Teena had been raped and murdered in '98. And also, you know, the Transgender Day of Remembrance had started because—. Gwen [Gwendolyn Ann Smith] started that in Massachusetts, but even that took a while to catch on, you know, because there again, there was hardly any conversation. And even when Brandon Teena was raped and murdered, that even took a while to be heard about. Michael—. Michael—. Not Michael. Matthew Shepard's murder. Everybody knew about that, but people didn't hear about Brandon Teena until really the movie Boys Don't Cry came out. And I think it was only because Hilary Swank played Brandon Teena, and that's truly why I think the knowledge of trans [transgender] guys also came out. You know, because it's—. Paris is Burning was out and there were, you know other things about drag queens and trans women, but not really about trans guys. And then Southern Comfort came out after that. But even still, even to this day, there's very little visibility still about trans guys or transmasculine people. It's mostly trans women, because—. Think about the situations that are happening within a lot of the states right now. They want to ban trans women from sports. They want to ban trans girls from going into the bath—the girls' rooms [bathrooms]. You know, they don't think about guys like us because they think that it's men wanting to be women. And there's still such a misunderstanding about who we are, and there is very little—. Because trans guys also, transmasculine people—if they want to grow facial hair, and depending on how long they're on hormones—we blend right into society, and trans guys don't have to come out a lot of times. Trans women—depends on when they start, how early they start [transitioning]. You know, when I came out, it was much later in life and it was a lot harder to hide. But trans guys—as soon as you start getting facial hair, you don't have to have any type of surgery—you are automatically Sir and Mr.

Riley Habyl [00:32:08] Is that level of acceptance something that you've experienced both within LGBTQ+ community spaces and in, like, straight cis [cisgender] spaces?

Jacob Nash [00:32:22] No. There were many—. It took a long time. When I started becoming active, and doing my activist work—. Sorry, there's a helicopter going by.

Riley Habyl [00:32:40] No worries.

Jacob Nash [00:32:40] So—. I was just kind of waiting for it to go by. So, when I started doing my activism work advocacy work in—. (unintelligible) Well—. So, I started because in 2002 my wife and I—soon to be ex—tried to get a marriage license, and Ohio denied us. And so we became very visible very quickly—unintentionally—because we were in the courts fighting to get a marriage license in 2002. So, my visibility happened because of a marriage license that we were denied. So—. Because marria—. Marriage was between one man and one woman in the state of Ohio in 2002. Even though I had transitioned, even though my birth certificate (audio garbled), they still would not acknowledge it. They still would not accept it. And so, all of a sudden, we became these accidental activists, and one of the first trans [transgender] men to be very visible in the news. So—. To the point of—. We had—. I mean, it went countywide, then statewide, then nationwide, then worldwide. We had German TV come over and do a story on us because they couldn't believe that a judge in the free world wouldn't give a straight couple a marriage license. Now, mind you, we weren't really straight—because my wife is a lesbian, and I'm bi [bisexual]. But you know, it was a—. Perceived—. We were perceived to be straight, of course, because we've got that privilege. Maury Povich wanted us on his show, Bill O'Reilly, Kris Mathers. We didn't do any of those because we wanted to be taken seriously. Now, if Oprah [Winfrey] had called, that would have been a different story. But at the time, I was one of the first trans men to make worldwide news—because of our marriage case. The second was a guy named Michael Kantaras who—. At the same time we were trying to get a marriage license, he was trying to get custody of his kids down in Florida. Michael just happened to be from Youngstown, Ohio. And so, at the same time, you're seeing and hearing about two trans men, which you never heard about. Every once in a while you hear about a trans woman, you know, being denied a marriage license because she's trying to marry a guy. But, you know—but you never heard about trans men. And so, I was one of the first visible trans men. And then, you know, of course, then everybody and their brothers—the LGBTQ+ organizations, you know—wanted to have me and Erin involved in their boards, or this, that, and the other thing. We were on Youngstown—. Or, you know, Pride Center board. We were on the—Cleveland's LGBT [Community] Center board. We were on—. I was the first trans person on Cleveland's HRC [Human Rights Campaign] steering committee. And this is—. We're talking, we started on their steering committee in 2003, so it's—. So, we're talking 20 years ago. But even still, HRC was started in this—you know, early seventies, so it took 30-plus years before they had a trans person on their steering committee in Ohi—. In Cleveland at least. I don't—. I think in Ohio, at all. You know, so—. So, in answering your question (laughs) about being accepted in LGBT spaces and cis [cisgender] spaces, we were—. I was tolerated. And I say that because even still today there are many gay and lesbian individuals who are not trans-supportive. And it even took a while for folks within the Cleveland Akron LGBTQ+ community to become trans-friendly. You know, a good friend of mine—. I'm not going to name who he is, but he was on the HRC [Human Rights Campaign] steering committee, had been in a lot of political activism groups. Every time I would see him, he always had a trans joke. And I kind of just laughed it off, you know. Now, he gets it. Now, he's okay. But back then, you know, didn't get it. A lot of, you know—. HRC [Human Rights Campaign] would say, "Oh, we're trans-supportive," but they would turn around and not do supportive things for the trans community. So, HRC [Human Rights Campaign] has been a love-hate relationship for me and a lot of people within the trans community. Same with a lot of different organizations—the LGBT [Community] Center in Cleveland, The AIDS Taskforce, Equality Ohio, Plexus. Yes, they're supportive. Sometimes it takes being that squeaky wheel for them to recognize that the trans community—and transmasculine folks, let alone nonbinary folks—are out here doing the work. So— (audio cuts out briefly)

Riley Habyl [00:39:21] Oh, I apologize. I think your microphone turned off. Sorry.

Jacob Nash [00:39:26] Well—. And for years that was the way I was doing. I helped get domestic partner registry in Cleveland. In, you know, Cleveland Heights, which is the first city in the country to have domestic partner registry. Now, that didn't benefit me, but it certainly benefited folks within the gay community that lived in Cleveland Heights. You know, but when it came to helping to get gender identity and [gender] expression into Cleveland and Akron's nondiscrimination policy, I didn't have that same support, you know. So, yes, the needle has moved. And in 2023 it has moved quite a bit, but we're not where it should be. Because we're part of the gay community still. You know, I often say that trans [transgender] people are a microcosm of society as a whole. We are in every culture, and every religion, and every, you know, gender identity, and every sexual orientation, and every ability or difference. We are everywhere. We're part of everything. But yet, people don't see us that way. When I tell people that I'm a Christian and I'm trans, they look at me—. I get folks within the gay community saying, "How can you? How dare you? They, you know, don't support us, They fight against us." And then I have people in—that are Christian looking at me like, "Well, you can't be a Christian. You're trans. You're a sinner. You're going to hell." And I'm like, "Tell that to God." (laughs) You know? It's my personal relationship. And if you have an issue with it, bring it up with him, because he's the one who says he loves me unconditionally. You know, scripture talks about there being no black, or white, or female—that we're all seen as one in God's eyes—and if that's the case, then you need to take it up with him. So, you know, it was really hard to break into the world of the LGB [lesbian gay bisexual]—the LG [lesbian gay] community—back in the early 2000s to do the work for the trans [transgender] community. And, you know, not trying to toot my own horn, but I was really the only visible trans person doing that work back then. And not—. Notice I said visible. Because there were a lot of people doing it, you know, in different ways, whether it was in the drag community, or, you know, helping to get policy or whatever done—but I was the only visible trans person doing it back then because people were afraid. They were afraid to come out.

Riley Habyl [00:42:41] Could you tell me a little bit more about it? Oh, sorry— (crosstalk).

Jacob Nash [00:42:43] Hopefully I answered your question.

Riley Habyl [00:42:44] Oh, absolutely.

Jacob Nash [00:42:47] Okay.

Riley Habyl [00:42:47] Yeah. Would you be able to tell me a little bit more about how—. So, I know that you said that you started trying to get a marriage license in 2002 in Cleveland. When was it that you were able to actually get the marriage license after all of your advocacy work? It sounds like it took a long time.

Jacob Nash [00:43:10] So—. Yeah. Yeah, it did. It took two years, but we were still denied in Ohio. It went all the way up to—. It went through the appellate level. We were denied there, and we appealed it all the way up to the Ohio Supreme Court. But I got to Columbus—to the courthouse at ten of five, and they wouldn't let me in to file it, so I was—. We were too late in filing it. But we got married in New Hampshire in 2004 because—. So, yes, I'm from Massachusetts. In 2004, we could have gone to Massachusetts and gotten legally married, but it would have been seen as—possibly as a same-sex marriage, because they had both marriages in Massachusetts, and they—. It may not have been recognized in the state of Ohio. So, we went to New Hampshire. We were actually going on vacation with friends, and I talked to my attorney. And I brought all of the documentation that we needed. And we got there, and I said to. Erin—. I said, "So, do you want to get married here?" She's like, "What do you mean?" She says, "We don't have anything." I said, "Oh, yes, we do," and I brought out all t

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