Transouthern Youth: Meet Niko Gonzalez

A photo of transouthern youth Niko Gonzalez.

"I definitely will continue to advocate for the LGBTQ community, as well as people of color who are LGBTQ, since I belong to both of those communities.” -Niko Gonzalez
Photo courtesy Niko Gonzalez.

Editor’s note: This is an installment of Transouthern Youth, a Spectrum South original series spotlighting transgender youth across the South.

By Megan Smith

High school sophomore Niko Gonzalez is a one-man revolution. At age 16, this openly trans and gay teenager is sending ripples through his Catholic school and diocese, challenging restroom regulation, and simultaneously paving the way for future generations of queer students.

Hailing from the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, Gonzalez’s southern ties are strong. “Although Atlanta was very open and liberal, Georgia and its suburbs [where I lived] were very closed off,” he explains. “I never really met anyone in the LGBTQ community and I wasn’t aware of it. It wasn’t really talked about and I was never exposed to it.” It wasn’t until he moved to Texas—first to Houston, then to Dallas—that his eyes were opened to the state’s vibrant LGBTQ community and to the possibilities of his own identity. “I started questioning my sexuality when I was around 12 or so,” Gonzalez says. “[At that point], I came out as bisexual and, at first, my parents just thought it was a phase. Then, about a year later, when I was around age 13 or 14, I began questioning my gender identity.”

“I was really struggling for a few months to try and come to terms with myself—telling myself it was all in my head, or it wasn’t real,” Gonzalez continues. When he made the decision to come out as a trans male to his parents, they initially brushed him off. “It’s understandable, because I come from a Hispanic community and the LGBTQ community is not something that is talked about a lot,” he explains of his family’s Venezuelan roots. “But after a few months, my parents started to see it was something I was serious about.” His parents asked Gonzalez how they could best support him and, in turn, allowed him to start gender therapy. “In the year I was going to gender therapy, my parents became super, super supportive and my friends were as well,” Gonzalez says. “I did have people who decided to leave my life because [of my gender identity], but I would much rather not have them in my life if they weren’t going to support me.”

At 15, Gonzalez began his physical transition journey. He started taking hormone blockers before ultimately beginning testosterone and receiving top surgery a few months before his sixteenth birthday. “Hispanics are very religious, so at first, my family was hesitant [because of that], but they saw that I was much happier and started socializing with them more once I came out,” he says.

A photo of transouthern youth Niko Gonzalez.

“There is no reason why we shouldn’t voice our opinions and fight for our rights and the rights of those who will come after us.” -Niko Gonzalez. Photo courtesy Niko Gonzalez.

Although he is not personally religious, religion has played a huge role in Gonzalez’s life and transition. He has attended Catholic school his entire life and, after coming out, is currently the only transgender student within his diocese in Dallas. “My school is actually very supportive,” Gonzalez emphasizes. “When I talked to my principal about [my identity] before my freshman year started, he was completely supportive and he made sure that my teachers knew [about my identity], as well as that teachers used my correct name and pronouns.”

By deciding to live his truth openly, Gonzalez not only kicked down his own personal closet door, but concurrently opened doors for other queer students. “Ever since I decided to come out, there has been an abundance of other students who have decided to come out and have told me that, because I am not afraid to be who I am in a religious environment, they can be who they are, regardless of whether they are religious or not,” he says. “When people come to terms with themselves—whether it’s sexuality or gender identity—and they’re religious, they kind of have this conflict where they don’t know what to do, whether they should give up their religion to be who they are. Of course, people will say things behind my back, but by showing that I’m not going to let what other people say stop me from being who I am, I cast that [positive] energy onto other people.”

But Gonzalez isn’t stopping there. “My principal is working with lawyers to talk to the diocese about allowing me to use the men’s restroom,” he explains. “Currently, I use the nurse’s bathroom at school, but both my principal and the head of my school want me to use the men’s restroom. But if the diocese finds out that I use the men’s restroom and they say no, the school could get in trouble. The head of my school and the principal have been fighting to the end for me and that’s something I greatly appreciate. It shows that, if there are kids younger or older than me who are also trans or nonbinary and are coming to terms with themselves (and are scared that within my school or diocese they won’t be able to be who they are), it gives them hope that they can be who they are and succeed, even in a religious environment.”

“Of course, there are times where I feel like everything is weighing down on me, but I will never stop advocating for the LGBTQ community within my school, because it’s something that I hold very dear to me,” Gonzalez adds. He also believes that putting a face to the cause is the best way to change hearts and minds. “I had a friend who told me, ‘Before I met you, I saw trans people as bad because they were going against what God has given them. But, after I met you, I realized you are who God meant for you to be—regardless of whether you are trans, it’s not a bad thing.’”

Although college is still a couple years away, Gonzalez already has aspirations to study political science—and eventually civil rights law—to hold the government and politicians accountable for their actions. For now, he—and students across the nation—seek to pressure politicians to finally address the issue of gun reform as part of the March For Our Lives movement. “It is so much easier to get a gun in America than it is to get a car, adopt an animal, or have an abortion. It’s just very easily accessible,” Gonzalez says. “People think of gun control and they think we want to ban their guns. That’s not what we’re trying to do. We just want responsible people to be owning guns.”

“By creating this movement, we’re forcing politicians to talk about it and to give answers, not excuses,” he adds. “The students who are leading [the movement] have made so much more progress in the past few months than there has been in decades. They’ve drawn so much attention to gun reform and that’s so empowering, because regardless of what adults and politicians think of us, we are the generation that can pave the way for generations to come. And there is no reason why we shouldn’t voice our opinions and fight for our rights and the rights of those who will come after us.”

Keep up with Niko Gonzalez by following him on Instagram at @nikogonzz.

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