Everyone has an opinion about gender identity, but few people have the right knowledge
Text: Tim van Erp
Photo: Jon Haywood
Video: Andre Kloer
Singer Sem Jansen (33) hadn’t exactly expected to be asked to be an ambassador when Pride Amsterdam called. And although he didn’t initially see himself on a boat either, he had several clear reasons to say “yes.” “I actually have to do this.”
He didn’t need long to decide. But Sem Jansen was surprised when the Pride Amsterdam organisation asked him, as a Brabander, to be Pride Ambassador 2025. There were two reasons why he paused before saying “yes.” “First, I’m not exactly a party animal. So I thought—even though I know Pride also has many activist programmes—that this wouldn’t be for me.” Laughing: “I said, ‘If you’re looking for someone who’s fun to stand on a boat and dance, that’s not me; that would be awkward for me and for everyone watching.’ But that wasn’t necessary, the organisation said I could just come as myself. I thought: I actually need to do this if I think Pride isn’t for introverted people like me. There are surely more people who think the same. Which, of course, isn’t true. Pride is for everyone.”
The second reason: visibility can have a negative side. “Showing yourself so openly carries risks, especially in the current climate. But that’s no reason not to do it. Besides, I’m already open.” That’s an understatement: Sem has taken his social media followers along through his transition in detail and made both an album and a theatre show about the subject. Not only about the practical side, but also about his doubts, insecurities and difficult feelings. Sem was already known as a member of the Leif De Leeuw Band, which among other things performed on De Wereld Draait Door. In 2020 he won the SBS talent show as a solo artist, Hit The Road. “Gender identity is a sensitive topic in the media and politics right now; I notice that. When a newspaper interviews me and shares it on social media, a lot of negative reactions appear underneath. Personally I receive hardly any direct hate. More often I get lovely comments from people I meet: listeners, for example, who say they finally truly understand what being transgender means.”
Changed voice
Of course, Sem adds, there have been unpleasant experiences too. “People who, after a performance, at the merchandise stand, said to me: ‘I liked your high voice better,’ or ‘You were so pretty when you were still a woman.’ Comments not intended to hurt, but they sting. I think people who say things like that don’t realise how sensitive it is. That I had practised for weeks to get my changed voice somewhat under control, was happy it worked, and then I get a remark like that afterwards.”
Because Sem’s voice was, before his transition, the one thing he liked about himself. And that might be the thing he could lose. “Research suggested that voice changes for transgender men would lead to a voice that couldn’t hold pitch or sing loudly. And I didn’t have musical role models to look to. The only trans man with a record deal then was Lucas Silveira, a Canadian singer. But he sang completely differently from me. I made a whole folder of trans singers I found on social media and YouTube. But almost none of them sang professionally. Nowadays there are more examples: Sam Bettens, for instance, from the Belgian band K’s Choice.”
Sem assumed his singing career would come to an end. “And not only that: my voice made people see me positively; it was how I presented myself to the outside world. I was much less social then and lived quite isolated. My transition could have affected that too. But I also knew: I had tried everything to be happy and it hadn’t worked. Sacrificing my career was a risk I was willing to take. Yes, maybe I could sing beautifully, but I no longer wanted to merely exist.”
As an experiment, Sem recorded some songs before his transition with his old voice. Afterwards he sang several new songs. Together those form the first and second halves of his 2023 album Uncle Sem. On the song Goodbye he duets with his former self, as he also does in his accompanying theatre show Who The F*ck Is Britt?!, with footage of him before his transition projected in the background. “With a vocal coach I worked hard to find the overlap between my female and male voice and to train that part. In the Leif De Leeuw Band they said: ‘If it doesn’t work out, it will be fine, you’re still a guitarist.’ But I knew that playing guitar alone wouldn’t give the same fulfilment. Fortunately it worked out: I sing much better now than right after my transition.”
No deadname
The title Who The F*ck Is Britt?! refers, by the way, to those same bandmates. “When I had just come out as Sem, venue staff would sometimes accidentally still call me Britt. My bandmates would joke afterwards: ‘Who the fuck is that Britt, anyway?’ That’s how we removed the awkwardness: with humour.” In that title Sem explicitly uses his former name, which within the community is often met with resistance. “I did think about it. But the name Britt doesn’t feel like a deadname to me. I had that name for a long time; my parents chose it with love. I don’t need to erase the first 25 years of my life. I understand that it’s different for everyone. And it’s of course a different story if someone calls me Britt to hurt me. But I have, for example, a family member who has supported me from the start and fully sees me as a man. Yet she sometimes accidentally calls me ‘Britt.’ She finds that more awkward than I do.”
In his ambassador portrait for Pride, Sem wears a rosary as a hidden message around the theme LOVE. It refers to his grandmother and her undoubtedly unconditional love. “She never knew me as Sem, but I’m sure she would have accepted me. When I came out as lesbian she immediately renounced the church without hesitation. An institution that doesn’t accept me wasn’t right in her eyes.”
Two days a week Sem teaches at his singing and guitar school in Helmond. He was also afraid his transition would cost him work in that field. “I sent a letter to the parents of all my underage students announcing that I would from now on live as Sem. I thought some would withdraw their child from singing or guitar lessons. But no one did. In fact, I now get more students who are themselves trans or struggling with their gender identity, including older people. Sometimes teenagers casually mention that they have another reason for coming to my school than learning to sing or play guitar. If they ask, I give them the names of support organisations: Jong & Out in Eindhoven, for example. Of course I want to help them, but I don’t want to risk parents thinking I directed them.”
Because that is unfortunately still sometimes assumed about being trans or non-binary. For that reason too Sem finds the Pride ambassadorship important. “Everyone has an opinion about gender identity, but few people have the right knowledge. I notice that everyone I talk with about it can show understanding or respect. I know: not everyone has that same privilege. But it gives hope. The more people we reach and the more conversations we can have, the better acceptance of transgender people will become.”
Pride ambassador since 2025
