Jennifer Levine testifies on shame, secrecy, and Interconnect support
Jennifer Levine, board member of Interconnect, says she was told to keep her intersex variation secret and had no resources or support. She describes finding community through Interconnect and asks the Council to pass Intro 131.
Good afternoon.
My name is Jennifer Levine and I use she, her, or they, them pronouns for a visual description.
I am a tall, frizzy-haired redhead.
I'm quite loud most of the time, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum today.
I'm an intersectional New Yorker and sitting board member of Interconnect, the nation's largest support network.
Today, I am speaking on my own behalf in support of Intro 131.
Like many marginalized groups, intersex people are not a monolith.
Each person has a unique story, unique life experience, and deals with their own set of difficulties, be they health-related, career-related, or otherwise.
Among the many stories I have heard in the six years I have worked with Interconnect, one theme has been consistent, shame, secrecy, and isolation.
As a young person, after learning about my intersex variation, I was told by doctors, family members, and trusted leaders in my community to keep it a secret, to not tell any friends or extended family.
To an extroverted teenager like me, this was tantamount to a punishment.
I was forbidden to discuss this thing I had learned about my body with my closest friends and allies.
The word cancer was mentioned and a surgery was suggested, but my mother gave me the option to wait, and I did, and I'm glad I did.
No additional resources were given.
No support was provided.
And no introductions to other young people like me were made.
Sorry, I lost my mother a few months ago.
There's a tissue box.
Speaking about her is very hard for me.
No, take your time, too.
For years, I held on to this secret, describing it as my infertility issue.
I'm using air quotes.
Or my problem when discussing things with my mom.
She would always say, but you haven't told anybody, right?
And I would always let her know yes.
Even as I entered college and then entered the workforce, I had this...
I held this so quietly, even after revealing to trusted friends or partners that I may die from cancer at some point.
I never shared the full truth.
Lack of representation also led me to believe that my issue, again I'm using air quotes, must be rare and that people couldn't understand.
It wasn't until years later.
Excuse me, I lost my place.
It wasn't until years later when I realized how angry and frustrated I was all the time that I started to dig deeper.
I was so heavily medicalized that I thought only doctors could give me the answers I sought after.
But when I found this support group that would become Interconnect, I realized there were other people like me.
I wasn't alone.
I met with a group of women, several of whom are still good friends today, and realized our stories may be different, but they were also so similar.
Once I attended my first national gathering for the group, I knew I wanted to help organize, provide resources, help with the outreach.
I could make a difference.
To make sure people felt less alone, stigmatized, or shameful.
The work of Interconnect, an organization that has existed in one form or another for 30 years, is vital.
We provide support services, networking, programming, and online education to families, young people, parents, allies, and healthcare providers so they understand how intersex people deserve to live authentically and with purpose, not shamefully or alone.
Our motto is be seen with seen acronymically representing supported, embraced, educated, and networked.
I think the most important part of that is embraced.
Because if I had just one person, just one single friend or community member to say, hey, there's nothing wrong with you, you don't need to be fixed, and your body is beautiful, I may not have hid like that for as long as I did.
My work within the community has shown me that so many of us were told the same thing.
You know, the other kids aren't going to understand.
Or maybe don't tell your partner about that until you have to.
Forcing an already marginalized person to hide a part of themselves, I think that's shameful.
This city is built on diversity and inclusion, a shining beacon of a skyline that has welcomed people for centuries.
Our laws should be just as welcoming.
For that reason, I ask the council to pass Intro 131, and thank you for your time and consideration.
Right on the dot.
Yeah.
I'm a pro.
Thank you all so much for showing up today and for testifying.
And I've just learned so much, not only from the bill that Councilmember Caban has put forward, and I'm so grateful that it's getting heard today.
We're going to get it passed.
But just learned so much from all of your testimonies.
Proud CUNY graduate from Brooklyn College.
I was a women's and gender studies major and an LGBTQ studies minor.
So grateful that CUNY has the discipline on these issues and that we've got great educators who are leading the charge on these issues.
I want to pass it to Councilmember McBond for her questions.
Thank you.
I have, yeah.
Oh, I just apologize.
We have one other person who was called up for this.
So sorry.
Yeah, sure.
Yeah, please.
Thank you.