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Anyone who has recently watched television or movies can tell you that transgender, gender nonbinary or gender expansive people are becoming more visible in these media. This trend reflects the reality that younger generations are increasingly identifying with more fluid and nonbinary gender and sexual identities and are progressively expressing those identities in a more flexible and changing manner (Herman et al., 2022; Wilson & Meyer, 2021). Unsurprisingly then, those individuals are also more visible at work, including in workplaces with employer-mandated dress codes. Indeed, in 2020 the US Supreme Court decided a case involving a transgender woman, Aimee Stephens, who was fired because her employer, a funeral home, required her to conform to its gender-binary dress policy and wear clothing mandatory for people assigned male at birth, rather than appropriate for her female gender identity ( Bostock v. Clayton County, 2020).

However, as the description of Aimee Stephens's own experience illustrates, often these employer appearance codes are based on a binary and fixed conception of gender and gender identity and expression at odds with the increasing number of workers who do not identify within those rigid parameters. Moreover, even when an employee, like Aimee Stephens herself, could have fit within her employer's dress code, the improper application of that policy to her, or employer concerns about customer or co-worker discomfort with an employee's appearance under the policy may mean that a worker's identity and expression may still conflict with a workplace appearance code. For gender nonbinary or nonconforming individuals, these complications are magnified.

This chapter explores the practical problems and barriers that employer dress codes have on employees whose gender identity and/or presentation move beyond the traditional male/female binary. Using insights from queer theory, gender expansive employees serve to interrogate fundamental assumptions behind workplace dress policies and the formal and informal ways in which these policies are policed. The chapter will explore that discordance, examine possible employer resolutions, and evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of those responses.

This chapter offers an autotheoretical account of my experiences as a trans man training for my first amateur bout – one that has yet to come but borne out of a never-ending fight. My chapter is in conversation with autobiography (McBee, 2018), journalistic (Oates, 2006) and ethnographical scholarship addressing the intricacies of pugilistic violence as a response to systemic gender, racial, sexual and economic oppression (Beauchez, 2017; Rutter, 2007).

Boxing draws fighters from marginalized communities. As a trans man, I have fought intense ‘negative’ feelings most of my life – emotions culminating into rage. I joined an amateur boxing club in Ottawa after trying to instigate a street altercation with a stranger. Feeling out of control, I sought refuge with others who also believe fighting solves problems.

Influenced by Oates' observations that boxing is ‘primarily about being, and not giving, hurt’ (2006) and sharing McBee's experience of ‘loving those men even as I hit them in the face, and knowing that they love[] me back’ (2018), I explore boxing as intimate and affective grounds for bearing witness to the pain and injury of the other shaping their daily lives. Amateur boxing as an embodied and affective space exceeds the oft reductionist (mis)understanding of the sport as a violent spectacle of individual bravado and the emphasis scholars and the mainstream media place on the ‘heroic body’ (Woodward, 2007); instead, I offer glimpses into the healing justice as social justice that witnessing the pain, vulnerability and resilience of oneself and other boxers can provide.