No one testified at the Dallas School Board meeting in November. People in this working class Oregon town tend to trust their elected officials. But the chairs filled so fast at December's meeting volunteers had to bring in dozens of extras.



Most in the crowd of 75 didn't look up when Elliot Yoder slipped in five minutes late, red hair peeking out from beneath an Oakland Raiders cap. The 14-year-old leaned against the wall, and his 5-foot-1-inch frame suddenly seemed even smaller. His eyes widened behind black plastic frame glasses.



He was the reason they were all there.



This fall, Dallas School District officials sent a letter to the 67 students in Yoder's gym class announcing they would allow an unnamed transgender student to use the boys locker room, the facility that matched his gender identity but not his anatomy.



Many school districts are seeing students come out for the first time, sometimes as early as elementary school. Rural and urban districts alike are struggling to decide which locker and bathrooms those students should use.



The U.S. Department of Education ruled in early November that an Illinois school district violated federal Title IX regulations when administrators prevented a transgender female from using the girls' facilities. The federal ruling applied only to one student, but school districts across the country have paid attention, believing that a precedent was set.





In Dallas, a town of 15,000 just west of Salem, district lawyers told school officials that enforcement of Title IX rules had changed "significantly" in recent years: The law passed in 1972 to ensure women had equal access to education now protects transgender students from discrimination.



The letter Dallas administrators sent home with students Nov. 16 explained their decision wasn't up for debate.



That didn't sit well with Dallas residents, who packed the December school board meeting even though the issue wasn't on the agenda. The audience fidgeted as board members cycled through reports about the holiday bazaar, a robotics competition and the Oregon School Board Association's annual convention.



Finally, the testimony began.



Yoder, the student in question, settled into a seat near the back with a deep sigh.



"This isn't going to be fun," he whispered.



***

Elliot Yoder, a 14-year-old freshman at Dallas High School, said he has known since he was young that he is "something other than female."



Yoder told his mother four months ago that he identified as a boy, not the daughter she had raised. They went back-to-school shopping at Goodwill. He wanted to buy mens' clothes, namely a silver tie and a white and blue plaid button-down. Nicole Lillie, a single mother of four, wanted to buy her child a Sponge Bob tank top with flowers on it. They compromised and bought clothes from both sections of the store.



When they returned to their apartment, Yoder tried on the button-down and began to cry.



"It was the first time I was able to see myself the way I'd always wanted to," he said.



That evening, he told his mother that he didn't identify as female. When school started in September, he wrote all eight of his teachers and asked them to call him Elliot, not the female, legal name they had listed in their records.



Initially, Yoder decided to use a unisex, single-stall bathroom to change before his three-times-a-week "Fitness for Life" class.



Many districts have chosen that option. At Vancouver's Skyview High School, transgender students say they use a staff bathroom or nurse's office to change. At Sandy High School, students last year successfully petitioned their principal to allow transgender teens to use 11 teacher's bathrooms. Portland Public Schools allow kids to use the locker room that corresponds with their gender identity, but district policy also allows any student -- transgender or not -- to change in a private stall or office.



In Dallas, the bathroom that officials offered Yoder was several yards and two flights of stairs away from the locker rooms. Other students noticed, Yoder said, when he grabbed his gym clothes and broke away from the group. He asked for permission to change with the guys.



The Dallas High School principal, Title IX coordinator, assistant superintendent and superintendent met with lawyers and Oregon Department of Education representatives to survey the facilities and develop a "clear plan that includes safety," Superintendent Michelle Johnstone said, before agreeing to allow Yoder to use the male locker room.



The principal, assistant principal and PE teachers talked with students in the gym class. Then they sent the letter home with boys who would share the locker room with Yoder.



Most of the school's 1,000 students didn't receive the letter, but word spread as boys posted pictures of it on Instagram.



At Monday's meeting, parents cried as they spoke about what was happening in the town's lone high school. Mothers said they feared boys would pretend to be transgender to spy on their daughters. One man said he pulled his son from Yoder's PE class. Others said they were praying board members would change their minds.



"It's something that's going through our society, but giving one person that comfort, giving the one person the ability to feel they are accepted in that space can ostracize the rest of the students who have to use the same facilities," said parent Tony Sutton.



Parents also asked the school board to take a stand against the federal government's interpretation of Title IX. Several testified that they had called lawyers who disagreed with the district's assessment. Sure, the U.S. Department of Education's Office of Civil Rights threatened to take away funding from Illinois' Township High School District 211 if it didn't allow a transgender student to use the girls locker room. But that doesn't carry the same power, the parents noted, as a judge's ruling.



Call the Alliance Defending Freedom, Kris Golly urged the school board. The Arizona-based "religious freedom" legal organization has drafted sample policies for school districts, and has recommended they send transgender students to single-stall, unisex facilities.



"I ask that you respect the families in this district that hold deep religious values or beliefs that undressing in front of the opposite sex is sacred," Golly said. She urged the district to hire someone to evaluate those "claiming to be transgender."



At that, Yoder groaned and again whispered to himself:



"I'm not female."



***





Elliot Yoder, a 14-year-old freshman at Dallas High School, began using the boys locker room in November. Yoder is transgender, and his move to the boys locker room has started a firestorm in the Oregon town. Dozens attended a December meeting to ask the Dallas School Board to remove him from the boys locker room.

He hated the way he looked when he was younger. But his unease felt different than the complaints girls usually express about their bodies.



Yoder didn't want a better female body. He didn't want to be a woman at all.



When a friend's father transitioned four years ago to female, Yoder said his life suddenly made sense. Maybe he didn't have to be a girl forever.



He spent hours online, researching the price of testosterone and compression shirts to flatten his chest. He read online diaries and watched YouTube videos other transgender teenagers had posted. He tried wearing dresses. He told himself he was just a lesbian. By the time he entered high school, he said, he knew he could no longer live as a girl.



After that first Goodwill trip last summer, he found men's' t-shirts and button-downs at church clothes closets. He searched, in vain, for a backpack to replace the pink Jansport his mother bought him. He strapped ACE bandages across his chest until an older transgender student bought him the compression shirt. He told people to call him Elliot.



"I didn't just do this," he whispered at the meeting. "They don't know the process it took."



As the testimony continued for another hour, a few people in the crowd started to recognize him. The source of their ire has big brown eyes, a round face and a crooked smile.



"Let's just go right down in our heart and answer this," said Gary Suderman, a local businessman who has lived in Dallas since the 1950s. "What do I think is right and wrong? Anyone here that is conflicted about this needs to see a professional."



Several mothers told the board they worried their sons would be accused of sexual assault if transgender boys shared their locker room.



"I'm not saying this child is going to do it, but once you open that door, you're opening up so many lives to be ruined in the future," Carmen Halcom said. "I'm not willing to jeopardize my son's future at being a dad, at being a coach."



Another woman stood to read a letter from Micky Garus, a Dallas City Councilor who said in November he would "issue an ass whooping" to any transgender student using the locker or bathroom matching their gender identity rather than their anatomy.



"The district is afraid, afraid of losing federal funding, afraid of potential lawsuits, afraid of the insurance company not representing them, if they violated state or federal law," Garus wrote. "I believe the district's responsibility first and foremost, is the safety of all the children. What I'm hearing is that they are willing to put a price on that safety."



Garus' letter didn't mention Yoder by name, but it did say he had been contacted by "the mother of the transgender student." She didn't want her child to use the boys bathroom either, Garus wrote, but district leaders told her she lacked the authority to force him back to the girls' facilities.



Yoder's great-grandfather testified, as did a girl Yoder sings with in the choir. Both urged the board to keep students segregated by their biological sex.



Finally, Yoder stood and walked to the front. His legs shook slightly, he later said, but not enough for the crowd to see.



"Yes, I was born as a female," he said. "I disregard that part of myself completely when I'm in the boys locker room. I never fully undress. I don't shower with them. I don't even look at any of them. I don't look at the person whose locker is directly below mine. I'm not in there to spy on your kids. I'm not in there for any other reason but to change in a place that is not completely separate from everybody else."



The trip to the unisex bathroom had been his "walk of shame," he explained. Other students watched as he took his clothes upstairs, he said. He heard them talking about him.



"I could see that they were labeling me as other," he said. "I'm not an it."



Yoder walked back to his seat with his head held high. A few people clapped. His mother, sitting on the back row, sobbed. Whether it was for him or because of him, he couldn't tell.



A handful of people testified against him after his speech, but the mood had shifted. Speakers stuttered and rambled as they read through notes. One Dallas High student said it wouldn't be his fault if a transgender student was assaulted in the guys' locker room.



"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just so nervous. I'm not saying I would harass a girl in the men's bathroom. I'm saying if that were to happen to somebody, it would be provoked."



When the meeting adjourned, a few people shook Yoder's hand. They didn't dislike him personally, they explained, but their kids were afraid to use the bathroom now.



Yoder said he understood how they felt. Though he began using the boys locker room to change in November, he never went to the bathroom at school.



"I'm too scared," he said. "I'm scared somebody's going to beat me up, somebody's going to say I accused them of something. Eventually, this will be normal, but I hate that I have to be one of the people fighting for it to become normal."

-- Casey Parks

503-221-8271

cparks@oregonian.com; @caseyparks