As soon as Summer Lee Falkenrath’s virtual court hearing ended Aug. 7, and their name was legally changed, Falkenrath started sobbing out of joy.
The process took about a month and a half, and it was something Falkenrath, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns, “wanted for so long in my life.”
“The past few months leading up to the work of changing it, [it] has been very difficult for me to be patient and kind to myself as I navigate the world as a queer person,” they said. “I was so relieved and happy to hear that I’m now officially Summer.”
Falkenrath is one of 2,059 people in Utah who have filed for a name or gender marker change so far this year, a spokesperson for the state courts said Aug. 10. But how difficult is the process in the Beehive State?
How it works
Nationwide, the process varies by state; Utah’s difficulty level falls “somewhere in the middle,” said Jess Couser, a Utah attorney who helps clients through the steps.
“There are states where it’s nearly impossible, and you have to have surgery [for a gender marker change],” Couser said. “And there are other states where you just fill out a form and you don’t even need to deal with a court order.”
In Utah, it’s generally a five-step process, outlined on the Utah State Courts website. But Falkenrath felt like the website was confusing to navigate, relying more on their friends’ name-change experiences to guide them.
Many seek legal assistance. Couser estimated the cost of an attorney ranges from $600 to $2,400, depending on the attorney and the level of help needed.
To legally change one’s name and/or gender marker in Utah, you first must seek certification from the Department of Corrections, regarding whether or not your current identifying information is on the state’s child abuse offender or sex/kidnap offender registries.
To do that, fill out this form. Once submitted, staff with the offender registration program will conduct a search and document the results. A completed form will either be emailed or mailed back to you.
Next, you have to file several documents to your local district court, including a petition for a name or gender marker change. That document alone costs $375 to file — on the upper end compared to what the process costs in other states, and about 10 times what it costs in Virginia, according to Olivia Hunt, policy director for the National Center for Transgender Equality.
Name-change applicants must have lived in the county where they are filing for more than a year. For gender marker changes, Utah applicants also must now provide evidence of their medical history, care or treatment related to their transition. (The state courts website lists an example: a letter signed by a licensed medical provider that states you experience “clinically significant distress” because of your current gender marker.)
Gender marker options are male, female and “X,” which is designated for nonbinary people and those with a gender identity besides male or female. Applicants must also present proof that they’ve outwardly expressed the gender they want reflected on their identification for the past six months, as well as proof that the requested change is “a true and an important part of your identity.”
Once everything is filed, a court hearing is scheduled. During the hearing, a district court judge may ask about your request before deciding whether or not to grant it.
An ‘intimidating’ process
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Matheson Courthouse, which houses Utah's 3rd District Court, serving Salt Lake County. People wishing to change their name or gender marker must file several documents with their local district court.
Couser said going through any court process can be scary, but especially so for transgender people, who experience high amounts of harassment and discrimination and are over four times more likely than cisgender people to be victims of violent crime.
“Some of [the judges] do them virtually, but appearing in front of the judge can be really intimidating,” she said.
Noah Burke, who changed his name when he was 18, said having to stand up in front of the court to explain why he wanted the change was “really hard.”
“That was definitely a curveball [to do it in person], because I have social anxiety,” Burke said.
Since the COVID-19 pandemic, virtual hearings can be requested and are more common — but it’s up to the judge.
Couser thinks the process could be more “streamlined” if more judges verified the applicant’s documents without making them appear before the court. And Hunt said Utah could benefit from having more name/gender marker change clinics to help groups of people update their records.
Hunt added that changing one’s name or gender marker is “not only a matter of respect and dignity, but a matter of practicality.”
“There are very few parts of moving through modern society that doesn’t require you to provide proof of identity,” Hunt said, including renting a car or an apartment.
Upon a judge’s approval, Utah applicants have to file their court-signed petition and an ”amendment of a record by court order” document to the Utah Office of Vital Records and Statistics. The office charges a small fee for the change.
Once complete, an applicant can update their identifying information to reflect their new name or gender marker, including their driver license, passport and Social Security card, as well as update banks, employers, schools, libraries and more.
Concerns about recent changes to process
Though the Utah process is comparatively costly and cumbersome, a state Supreme Court ruling in 2021 did make it more accessible.
At the time, the state high court ruled that two transgender Utahns can list the gender that they identify as on their driver licenses and other state records. The decision overturned a lower court ruling, which found that the plaintiffs couldn’t legally change their gender markers.
The ruling took three years, but was said to ensure that transgender Utahns, no matter where they live in the state, could more equally access gender marker changes. Prior to the decision, some district court judges would grant the changes and others wouldn’t, Couser said.
In particular, mostly Davis County judges were denying gender marker change petitions before the ruling, Couser said, calling it a “frustrating time.”
“It’s just my opinion that they should each independently be interpreting the law, not coming together as a group, but I don’t think there’s anything that says they can’t,” Couser said of Davis County judges at the time.
Couser noted the Supreme Court case “clarified the process but still didn’t change it significantly.”
State legislation passed earlier this year could further impact the process, she added.
“What it did is it built on that Supreme Court case, clarifying that they want a letter from a medical provider and they also want a letter from a mental health provider [for gender marker changes],” Couser said.
Couser said the fact that it also established a legal standard of proof concerns her, because it could make it more difficult for an applicant to fulfill those requirements. But she hasn’t seen that play out so far.
“My biggest concern [from the legislative session] is the total ban on any minor petitions under 15 and a half [for gender marker changes] without any exception,” Couser said.
Sue Robbins, who is transgender and serves on Equality Utah’s Transgender Advisory Council, said having legal documentation that aligns with one’s name and gender allows transgender people to “move about in communities and jobs without having things like birth certificates and driver licenses that out us.”
“Being able to change our name and our gender marker on legal documents is critical for us to be able to exist without discrimination and opposition,” said Robbins, who’s changed her name and gender marker in the last 10 years.
“Being able to change our name and our gender marker on legal documents is critical for us to be able to exist without discrimination and opposition,” said Robbins, who’s changed her name and gender marker in the past 10 years ago.
Even though Falkenrath has been going by Summer to most people for more than a year, legally making this change makes them feel like “no one can take this away from me.”
“I feel more empowered in myself, and I’m so excited to help other people on their journey of getting their name legally changed by sharing the steps I took,” they said.
