What is 'deadnaming' and why does it matter?

What's in a name? Mesa police learned it's everything when a person is transitioning.

Last year, a fatal police shooting in the city spotlighted concerns over how law enforcement and media identify transgender people.

It also left police asking themselves how they could have better helped an armed person with thoughts of self harm — a situation common in the state's third-largest municipality.

A distraught Kayden Clarke, who was transitioning from female to male, was killed by officers who were called to his home Feb. 4, 2016, on reports of a suicidal person.

Mesa police originally identified Clarke by his legal name and gender assigned at birth, but became aware of his transition as the case unfolded through conflicting reports by family and friends.

Without Clarke there to identify himself, police and media who reported on the shooting faced a predicament, and authorities defaulted to the legal name found on identification cards.

There's a term often used in the LGBTQ community for referring to a transgender person by the name they were given at birth and no longer use: deadnaming. It is often paired with misgendering, which refers to the use of an inappropriate pronoun of a person's gender identity.

When combined, it's an offensive double whammy.

"When people use deadnames, it's degradation of life and erases us," said Monica Jones, a social worker and local activist who organized a candlelight vigil for Clarke after the shooting. She didn't know Clarke personally but said she felt compelled to rally support after his death.

"The bond of being trans and living here makes us connected," Jones said. "It's sad because you think about what's going to happen if you die or pass away. How is your legacy going to be reported in the news? It's all about our legacy and the things we want to leave behind."

Community members swiftly contacted The Republic to alert reporters of Clarke's identity when Mesa police delivered Clarke's birth name to the media. Articles were updated using Clarke's identity and an editor's note was added to the bottom of initial reports to reflect the discovery.

Mesa police adjusted how they referred to Clarke in conversation, adding both names to relieve confusion, after investigators learned more about his situation. However, the department reports refer to him by his birth name.

While some may complain that sensitivity to these kinds of cases borders on political correctness, at the heart of the issue is the individual right of people to determine who they are. Police officers and others likely will face similar situations as society moves to be more inclusive toward the transgender community.

"As society evolves, we (in policing) do, too," said Detective Steve Berry, a Mesa police spokesman. "This could have happened to a school or hospital in a high-profile case where you have to make these calls. Now, I think we all have a better grasp on it."

A welfare check, a fatal shooting

Friends had asked Mesa police to check on Clarke at his home near 80th Street and Brown Road out of fear that he was suicidal. Clarke had reportedly made comments about wanting to harm himself and previously had attempted to take his life.

One friend had driven to the house and directed two officers to Clarke’s mother-in-law suite on the property. Having gone inside the darkened home, she approached Clarke and noticed he was holding something to his chest. Police sent the woman out of the unit and secured Clarke's dog, whom he had trained to be his therapy animal.

According to police reports, the officers began talking to Clarke from a narrow hallway, but they couldn’t see him in the dark. Clarke refused to show himself to police and reportedly told officers he didn’t want to go back on psychiatric drugs.

"I just need to see you so that we can get this resolved, and we’ll go from there," patrol Officer Joseph Demarco was quoted as saying in the reports. "Unfortunately, you made some statements that warrant attention from us now. ... We can’t go away at this point, but I do need you to show me yourself.”

After a discussion with one of the officers, Clarke showed himself by jumping into the doorway while wielding a butcher knife with the blade along his forearm. Both officers drew their firearms and commanded Clarke to drop the knife. He refused.

As one officer reached to flip a light switch, Demarco said Clarke advanced on them, prompting each to fire one round. Clarke was shot in the abdomen.

"And then (he) stops and (he) just falls to the ground," Demarco said. "There looked like there was no stopping (him) with (his) movements. (He) wasn’t slowing down."

Clarke died at a hospital a little more than two hours after officers were dispatched.

Advocates: Use of birth name ill-advised

Mesa police publicly identified Clarke by his legal name and gender assigned at birth. All records related to the case reference Clarke by that name and use a female pronoun. Police said that, on those documents, the legal name must be used but an assumed or chosen name not legally changed can be identified as an alias.

Clarke’s death sent shockwaves through the LGBTQ and autism community, with many calling to attention the ill-advised use of Clarke’s birth name in public.One group, the National LGBTQ Task Force, criticized media outlets for their reports featuring Clarke’s birth name after police had provided it.

GLAAD, a national organization which monitors media representation of LGBTQ people, guides writers to avoid using the dead names of transgender people because it implies that it is the person’s “real name” when their chosen name is their real name, regardless of a legal name in the courts.

RELATED: 15 unnerving stories in 2016

Josef Wolf Burwell, a board member of the Trans Spectrum of Arizona, commented that deadnaming isn't usually done with ill-intent when reporting on crimes.

"The person is not there to name him or herself any longer, and these mistakes happen," he said. "It can happen to a transgender person or anyone else who has changed their names for any other reasons, but they're no longer around to correct it from happening."

He said legally changing a name could lessen some of the impediments, but it can be costly and takes time to provide proper documentation to state courts and Social Security, and notify any and all interested parties. In Maricopa County, it costs $319 to file an application for a name change. Costs vary per county.

Burwell said Clarke's story is a cautionary tale.

"It was a tragedy we can learn so much from on mental health, what young people go through and how hard it is to be a young person in transition," he said. "There was a lot of emotion around that case."

Videos detail Clarke's frustration in transition

Investigators noted Clarke's heavy online presence under both names and provided a video clip in an investigation document dump months after the shooting.

Clarke chronicled his struggle with mental health and discrimination he faced as he began his transition. He gained attention in 2015 after a YouTube video he posted showed him being comforted by his service dog as he suffered an Asperger’s syndrome-related meltdown.

In the one-minute clip, Clarke is shown sobbing and hitting himself repeatedly in the chest and head until his service dog responds so he can move his hands away from his body.

“This is what having Asperger’s is like,” Clarke wrote in the description of the video posted June 1, 2015.

In a final public video posted to his YouTube channel on Jan. 9, 2016, Clarke detailed his mental health diagnoses, which included post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and bipolar disorders, as well as attention-deficit disorder. In a rant, Clarke said one gender therapist he consulted told him to “fix” his Asperger’s syndrome before she’d write a letter to his medical doctor to begin hormone treatments.

Outraged, Clarke said he’d “had it” and would order his testosterone online. Later in the video, Clarke stated he had made previous attempts at suicide from depression that began in his early childhood that stemmed from being unable to transition.

“I’m struggling in my life. They know this. This is why I finally reached out because I wasn’t sure what to do because everywhere I went to, they turned around and just laughed at my face. (They) said that gender identity disorder and dysphoria was a ‘mental health issue.’

"… I don’t know what else to do. I’m frustrated. I can’t do anything in my transition because I’m stuck in this stupid roadblock. … I don’t know what to do because I cannot have the (sex-reassignment surgery) or (gender-reassignment surgery) done.”

Intensely personal issue that defines identity

Transitioning is not a linear timeline for many, Burwell said.

For example, Kandis Capri of Phoenix died of gunshot wounds in 2015 after being found in an apartment complex parking lot near 45th Avenue and Thomas Road, according to the Phoenix Police Department.

Capri's gender was assigned male at birth but she started identifying as female at 14 years old. At 22, Capri switched back to living life under her birth name until her late 20s, according to a family member.

"Kandis lived as Kandis for many years, and Kandis lived as Dedrick for many years, and no matter whether she was Kandis or he was Dedrick (she) means so much to these people," her mother, Adria Gaines, told reporters at a vigil honoring Capri's life.

Phoenix police referred to her in records by name and gender assigned at birth.

The use of a chosen name should be a simple task, similar to the way artists like Lady Gaga or Demi Moore are known by a chosen moniker, said Jones, the social worker and activist.

Burwell, of the Trans Spectrum of Arizona, said, "Everyone transitions at their own pace and their own way. For some, the transition begins, and there's no turning back — the transition progresses linearly with no more use of a birth name and their affirmed name solidly in place," Burwell said. "For others, the name can be fluid. It can change again. The way you transition is your own, and people can decide from day to day to week to week how they want to go about transitioning. There's no direct way to go about doing it."

'It was ... uncharted waters for all of us'

In cases where it's necessary to positively identify a person, police will ask the person or use government-issued identification cards to confirm the name.

Berry, the Mesa police spokesman, said the dissemination of information on Clarke's death was new territory for the department. Officers were in a quandary in addressing Clarke's gender, as conflicting evidence and accounts from family and friends raised questions over the use of either name.

Had Clarke survived the shooting, it would have been easier for police to identify him by his chosen name.

Berry said the department received push back at the outset for deadnaming and misgendering Clarke.

"It was sort of uncharted waters for all of us in the situation," he said. "It was something we tried to work through without trying to offend or degrade anyone."

The department discussed the handling of Clarke's case internally and with members of the community. Mesa police have had an LGBTQ forum since 2008.

Berry said having that group already established allowed the department to move forward.

One of those efforts included a crisis-intervention team that was announced shortly after Clarke's death. The team includes trained Mesa police officers and civilian employees who assist with calls to police involving persons with mental illness or neurological disorders.

Mesa police Cmdr. Sherry Burlingame said a mental-health advisory board also was established to help discuss and anticipate issues that may arise in interactions with those suffering from mental-health distress.

Burlingame, the LGBTQ liaison for the department, said Mesa police are dedicated to reflecting the diversity of its community, and the department offered training sessions for all personnel that discuss respectful interactions with transgender citizens.

"This specific incident was the first one of its kind we'd dealt with at that level," Burlingame said. "Sworn members come in contact with transgender people at various incidents and they try to treat everyone in the community with respect."

"I think we've learned from the event and have evolved from it," Burlingame said.