Americans must look for common ground

The serious version of the underlying transgender debate is really about compassion rather than cruelty. Proponents of both sides believe they are on the side of compassion. No amount of argumentation will convince a committed soldier on the other side, because reason was not the basis for their views in the first place.

But I think that some demonstration of empathy, without compromising the need to protect children from physical or chemical interference or to preserve the integrity of women’s sports, will go a long way in the end.

One of the biggest surprises of my time on the campaign trail came from none other than the mainstream press.

During the campaign cycle, networks “embed” young reporters with major presidential campaigns “to attend every event and press conference for their coverage.” One of those embeds was a reporter for a major news organization.

Let’s call her Kori. Kori was particularly hardworking – she never missed an event and always took the opportunity to ask a question. Kori often asked me questions about gender identity, particularly my view that transgenderism was a mental disorder.

At an event in Iowa, I asked some particularly lively questions about the issue of transgenderism being forced on children in schools. There were a number of parents in the room who were understandably frustrated and expressed their concerns publicly.

For my part, I answered without reservation that transgenderism is a mental illness and must be treated as such. After this event, Kori asked for a personal interview.

Their coverage always called balls and strikes fair. So when she approached me in an uncharacteristic way, I took the time to talk to her. I paused and saw that her eyes were half filled with tears, so I stepped back from the crowd. It turned out that Kori wanted to have a personal conversation.

“I really enjoyed meeting you and especially Apoorva and the children this year. But I just have to ask you: What gives you the certainty that there really are only two genders?” Kori asked me, shaking slightly.

Yes, I officially spoke to a mainstream reporter who recorded what I said, but it wasn’t really a conversation with the press. It was a personal conversation with someone I had to respect as a person, and I think my family and I had to respect as well. And Kori was visibly upset.

I explained my view that it all started with biology. If you have two X chromosomes and a female reproductive system, you are a woman. If you have one X and one Y chromosome and a male reproductive system, you are a man. Period.

Then I realized: Kori wasn’t feigning outrage or asking a question. She spoke to me because she self-identified as non-binary. She felt hurt by my comments, not hypocritically on behalf of some unknown other person, but on her own behalf. She wasn’t hurt because she loathed me, but because, I think, she respected me.

So I asked Kori about her own identity. She said she identified as non-binary. I asked her when this realization came to her and she said it was late in high school. When I asked what was different about her experience compared to a young woman discovering different sexual preferences than most of her peers, she paused and became thoughtful. She didn’t have an answer and I wasn’t about to pressure her.

Instead we talked about her family. She grew up in a single-parent household in Baltimore, the daughter of a single black mother. Her father was imprisoned for many years, which put a strain on their relationship. She didn’t come from a background where one would expect her to complete her studies, let alone become a journalist who, in my opinion, would be one of the best in her field.

We couldn’t really come to any resolution other than smiling and politely agreeing to continue the conversation. Since then I have seen Kori several times. She is the only press embedder I stayed in regular contact with after the campaign ended. When I visited The Breakfast Club in New York City for a podcast, I called Kori and invited her to come backstage, not as a member of the press, but as a friend.

She agreed and I planned to finish the conversation we started in Iowa, but we ended up talking about her new apartment and the current district she’s been deployed to since my campaign ended.

There can be unity when there is no unity, Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. once said. Maybe one day Kori and I will finish our discussion in Iowa.

Maybe we won’t. But when I remember my relationship with Kori, my debate with her about transgenderism certainly won’t be the most important part.

Excerpted from TRUTHS: The Future of America First by Vivek Ramaswamy. Copyright © 2024 by Vivek Ramaswamy. Reprinted with permission from Threshold Editions, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC.