Hoping Md. Is 'Ready for a Person Like Me'

Before the transition, she said, she felt like "an actor, or a fraud, living with this mask on." But she feared alienating her parents, her med-school chums, boyhood pals from yeshiva and her younger brother, a philosophy professor at the U.S. Naval Academy.

Common wisdom within the transgender community dictates that "we're going to lose half our family, half our friends," she said.

In the end, Beyer lost no one -- with the understandable exception of her second wife.

Beyer recalled the first visit to her parents, living in the Seinfeld-esque suburb of Delray Beach, Fla. It began awkwardly, particularly with her mother. But "six hours later, we were sitting down with the family photo albums, saying, 'She looks like Aunt Frances. No, she looks like Aunt Becky.' "

She imagines that most voters who greet her at their doors know about her transition. "Word gets around about something like that," she said. But it almost never comes up. She has knocked on 5,500 doors, at least 100 a day, and recalls only one man, a former town official, who mentioned it overtly. "He just threw it in," she recalled, while ticking off the reasons he was impressed with her.

Perhaps they don't care. Beyer has knocked mostly on Democratic doors so far, and it's common wisdom that "you only lose to the left in District 18," said Jon Gerson, community outreach director for the county teachers union.

Early in the race, some political operatives told Beyer that old-guard Democrats weren't ready for a transgender delegate. She's not so sure.

"You know, I think this district is ready for a person like me," Beyer said. As evidence, she cited Richard S. Madaleno Jr. (D), the openly gay delegate she hopes to replace in the House. Madaleno is running for the state Senate.

At the candidates forum one recent evening, Madaleno introduced his partner and their 3-year-old daughter. His sexual orientation prompted much talk when he ran for office in 2002, Beyer recalled. "And now, nobody cares."

Beyer has $51,401 in her campaign account, the third-highest total among the eight candidates. The field includes two incumbents, Ana Sol Gutierrez and Jane E. Lawton, as well as another five challengers: Dan Farrington, a lawyer from Chevy Chase, is probably the most natural politician among the newcomers. James Browning of Silver Spring, a former executive director of Common Cause Maryland, is arguably the most politically astute. Jeff Waldstreicher of Kensington has the most cash on hand and the endorsement of Montgomery teachers. Al Carr, a Kensington Town Council member, is beloved in his home town. Noah Grosfeld-Katz, son of departing state Sen. Sharon M. Grosfeld, has name recognition.

Across the district, Beyer stands in doorways and talks about putting "a doctor in the house," running marathons and cooking dinner for her sons. David, 21, is a senior at Brown University; Jonathan, 18, is an emergency medical technician. She has, "simply for fun," knocked on the doors of Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. and Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz, both constituents; neither was home.

On a recent Thursday, Beyer planted a sign in the front yard of Mike McCurry, the former Clinton press secretary, who recently sent his endorsement. She has also been endorsed by former Montgomery County executive Neal Potter, Montgomery police, state and local National Organization for Women chapters and retired schoolteachers.

The influential county teachers union has not endorsed her, backing instead the two incumbents and Waldstreicher, deemed the strongest pro-education candidates. Beyer suspects a political motive: She sits on the board of Teachthefacts.org, the group that fought, and lost, a legal battle with religious conservatives last year over curriculum changes that included discussion of transgender issues.

The issue of her gender has surfaced only in oblique references on the campaign trail, such as a knowing wink, as when Beyer joked with the woman on the Silver Spring cul-de-sac about the open-minded district they share.

"I'm glad I'm not running in Virginia," she told the voter.

"Well, you wouldn't be," the woman replied.