Alice Copping reveals reality of coming out as trans in front of 150 PAC students

In front of 150 Prince Alfred College students, Alice Copping stood tall and shared some news the institution had never heard before.

On the wall of her university digs in Melbourne, Alice Copping has a poster of Prince Alfred College, the 155-year-old all-boys’ school where she made history two years ago by coming out as a trans girl.

“It’s a sketch of the main building that I picked up when I was in Adelaide over Christmas,” says the now-19-year-old, who started at PAC when she was just three years old.

“I’m proud to be from that school, it was very supportive to me, especially the staff and the environment. I spent 15 years of my life there, it’s a part of who I am.”

On International Women’s Day in 2022, Ms Copping stood in front of 150 of her year 12 peers – with the support of her headmaster, board and staff – and became the first PAC student to come out as trans and decided to stay at the school.

It was exactly the way she hoped to make her life-changing statement and it marked the start of becoming her true self.

Alice Copping, PAC’s first student to come out as trans and stay at the school, is telling her story for the first time. Picture: Rebecca Michael.

“It ended up being that the decision, which was made fully by me, was to give a speech in front of my year level,” says Ms Copping, speaking publicly for the first time since her historic address.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous in my life. Getting up on stage in front of 150 peers is nervous at the best of times, let alone coming out in front of 150 guys as trans when you don’t know how they’re going to react. It was very, very, very shocking.

“I did that so there was no misinformation, no playground rumours … I’m very glad I did it and it was the best decision for me. The principal got up on stage, captains and other students and basically gave me support.

“I’m sure there were people talking behind my back. Apparently some parents were annoyed about it and it’s like they feel the need to have a say in my personal matters but it didn’t really matter, people were supporting me.”

Ms Copping says she turned down an offer from the school to create a new uniform, stressing she was personally comfortable in the traditional shirt, tie and pants. Her only exception was her growing locks – other students had to conform to the school’s strict hair policy.

Alice Copping was enrolled at PAC from the age of three. Picture: Supplied

She says it was “life changing” to show her peers her true self. Picture: Supplied

But the opportunity to truly reveal herself to friends and schoolmates came three months later, when – dressed in a black dress and elbow-length black gloves – she debuted a glamorous look at the PAC’s glittering Red and White formal.

“It was an opportunity for me to be me. All these guys see me in my normal outfit, so I was like let’s actually go femininely and show people who I am,” Ms Copping says of the year 12 ball held at Adelaide Entertainment Centre.

“Quite a lot of people assumed I was someone’s date. It was very awkward and it was daunting standing in pictures of everyone in their best suits and me in a dress but it was a life-changing experience for me.

“It was a Great Gatsby theme so I wore feathers in my hair, long black gloves and a black dress that was pretty similar to what a lot of the other girls were wearing, but for me it was a big deal. For other girls it was still a big deal because it was a formal but it wasn’t a life-changing experience as it was for me because it was the first time I got to go to all my friends and peers and say ‘look at me, I am me, this is who I am’.”

Ms Copping’s wellbeing wasn’t the only thing that dramatically improved in the wake of her coming out. There was also a big uptick in her school results.

The struggle for identity had seen her miss a lot of school, damaging her grades and leaving her contemplating dropping out. But after coming out, her learning went on a trajectory that saw her finish year 12 with a strong 85 ATAR.

Now, Ms Copping is in her second year of a Bachelor of Arts degree at the University of Melbourne studying politics, international studies and history.

She lives in inner-city Carlton at the university’s Medley Hall, where she sits on the student committee as its social representative, organising an annual ball and a diary of other social events. She also spends time with her girlfriend and new friends.

“I live as a woman, I live as Alice,” she says. “My girlfriend doesn’t even know my original name, none of my friends know my original name because it’s not important.”

Ms Copping says she was 15 when she realised she was “living a lie” in the wrong gender.

“I always kind of felt there was a weight, I knew something was hurting me,” she says.

“Certainly in regards to quality of life and my happiness, it was not an option. It wasn’t a decision to come out as trans, it was something I needed to do. It was my whole mind screaming at me.

“For me, it was quite crippling. Someone calling you by a different name may not seem a big deal but to a trans person, it feels like an emotional gut punch when someone uses your incorrect name, your dead name. It’s a matter of respect, using people’s names like that, it’s my legal name.”

Ms Copping says her mum, Michele, initially struggled but has become an enthusiastic supporter. Dad Mark had died of brain cancer when his only child was just seven. It was his wish that Ms Copping attend PAC from the age of three.

But as the years went by, Ms Copping found it increasingly difficult to find her place. Singing the school anthem Prince’s Men – which dates back to 1922 – left her feeling isolated.

“We sing the school anthem and it’s ‘we’re Prince’s men forever’ and we sing about how we’re men and we’re masculine and that not only enforces strict ideals of what that gender should be, you have a room of people singing ‘Prince’s men forever’ and not everyone there is identifying as a man,” she says.

“It was like, ‘well I’m not a man, this song is not about me’. It certainly wasn’t deliberate, but if traditions are broken then they may also need to change.”

Alice is the first Prince Alfred College student to comeout as trans and stay at the school. Picture: Dean Martin

About a year after realising she was trans, Ms Copping started the “rigorous” two-year process of accessing hormone replacement therapy. This included being referred to a psychiatrist at the Women’s and Children’s Hospital, an endocrinologist and other medical experts.

The treatment started at the end of last year and has already dramatically altered her appearance and the way she feels about herself.

“I’ve grown breasts, my skin’s gotten softer, mood differences … I’ve lost a lot of my muscle mass. HRT has made a world of difference,” says the teenager.

“But the most important change is just I feel comfortable in my skin, I feel good in myself and my body and who I am. It was like I was trapped before, trapped in my own body. A lot of people say HRT is a miracle drug, for trans people it may as well be. It helps people be themselves.”

The transition has included changing her identity legally – a frustrating process of negotiating different jurisdictions and rules.

Her passport now says she is female but NSW law dictates that her birth certificate, which was issued in Sydney, where she was born, says male and cannot be changed unless she undergoes gender affirmation surgery.

“My passport says female and my birth certificate says male. It’s caused a lot of issues and it’s rather restrictive,” says the exasperated teenager, who chose her new name of Alice because it was “nice and simple and, quite frankly, people wouldn’t be upset by it”.

“Whenever I have to submit documentation people think there’s an error and then I have to explain all my personal issues to Centrelink workers and stuff.

“The system now is not working. People are saying it needs to step backwards, it’s gone too far, but it hasn’t gone far enough.”

Alice Copping is now an emerging trans advocate. Picture: Rebecca Michael.

Ms Copping – an emerging trans advocate who has her heart set on a career in the United Nations – says SA-Best MP Frank Pangallo’s failed bid to create a parliamentary inquiry into issues facing trans kids had stirred political sentiment and threatened to fuel hostility.

It was the same back in 2022, when the teenager found her name thrust into the media spotlight in the wake of her school speech. It coincided with public debate about the Coalition’s planned religious discrimination legislation.

“(Then-prime minister) Scott Morrison rather publicly said there was no reason that a trans person would want to stay at a single-gender religious school,” says Ms Copping.

“So me, by being me, I wasn’t intending to make a political statement but just ended up, by my very existence, making a statement. The difficulty of being trans in this world is that existing as a trans person has become an inherently political statement.

“I think it’s something that has to be the case at the moment because the way things are now is not good. However, it doesn’t have to be the case.”

The rush of stories that followed Ms Copping’s PAC speech brought a flood of comments from public figures and keyboard warriors, many of them “belittling and mocking”.

“I was a child,” she says. “You had people saying ‘he’ll never be a woman’. It was a nightmare.”

Prince Alfred College, Kent Town, Adelaide. Picture: Emma Brasier

One of the arguments used to attack the treatment of gender dysphoria is that those who have transitioned can regret their decisions.

But Ms Copping points to international studies showing the incidence of post-surgery regret in trans people is about 1 per cent.

“Look at the rates of tattoo regret, plastic surgery regret, all these other statistics are far higher yet we don’t have the same restrictions on them in place,” she says.

“Why does everyone need to get a say about what makes people happy?

“If you know there is a way out there to get medication to make your kid happy if they’re miserable – and if you look at the suicide rates, they’re abysmal, quite frankly – and if you as a parent have the medication, have the ability to help your kid, I would think you’d do anything if it means they’re happy and thriving. It is lifesaving medication.”

There’s no regrets for Ms Copping, who is living her best life in Melbourne and has her eyes on the future.

“I’m not changing. I’ve always been a woman, I’m just being my true self.”