Meet Rynelle Chen

Rynelle Chen projects tranquility. Her dark hair frames a warm smile and rosy cheeks. Her gentle, steady voice calls back to childhood audiobooks. Her virtual background on Zoom is the iconic opening frame from the TV show The Good Place—“Welcome!” it reads in bright green letters. “Everything is fine.”

In Chen’s 14 years of working as Director, Technology at Nueva, this composure has served her well. She has helmed tech support and infrastructure at the Hillsborough campus, and then at the newly founded upper school. She has been a teacher, an advisor, and has chaperoned school trips from Crow Canyon to Washington, D.C. to Costa Rica. She saw one of her two daughters through the middle school, and watched valued colleagues come and go. She managed the hecticness of her many roles within Nueva for over a decade.

But as she prepared to stand before her colleagues in the gym on the morning of a professional development day in March, her stomach turned with nerves. “Who knows?” one of her colleagues whispered to her. “How do you feel?” another asked.

Chen thought about it. She was about to officially come out to all of her colleagues as a transgender woman. She was undoubtedly nervous, but didn’t feel even a tinge of anxiety. “This is what I’m supposed to be doing,” she reminded herself, speech gripped in her hand. “This is what I [need] to do to remain authentic to who I am.” So when Head of School Lee Fertig handed her the microphone, Chen stood before her colleagues and spoke with her characteristic steadiness.

“For the past three years, I have been identifying as female, and I have consistently presented as female in my personal life,” Chen said. “I am not male and will no longer be presenting as male at work… My name Is Rynelle Alara Chen, and I use she/her pronouns.”

She had hoped for acceptance and understanding from her colleagues. She didn’t expect the room of all-division faculty and staff to respond as they did: with a standing ovation.

“It was more than I could have hoped for at the time,” she reflects. That night, Fertig shared a snippet of Chen’s speech with the entire Nueva community in an email, with the subject line “Important News.” Emails of congratulations and gratitude poured into her inbox.

Some wrote simply to congratulate her. Some wrote to thank her for the beauty and bravery of her message, or for cultivating a safe space for queer and questioning students and faculty. Other messages—which Chen found especially touching—were more personal.

“I remember when I first came out in my freshman year and you were so incredibly understanding in the process of changing my email in the school's system,” one student wrote. “I felt so incredibly welcomed in such a vulnerable part of my life. If there's anything I can do to return that same welcome you gave me, please let me know.”

A parent of a transgender student shared a similar sentiment.

“Our youth don't see enough adults yet taking the steps to develop into who they know they are,” the parent wrote. “It warms my heart to know [my daughter] has you as a nearby person to relate to and find confirmation with. Even while she may not explicitly address the topic with you, simply seeing you live your life will enrich her.”

But while the emails were wholly positive, Chen’s emotions were more convoluted.

“I’ve responded to all of them, thanking everyone and so forth—it’s been reassuring,” Chen said. “But my realistic self says that for every supportive email that I get, there’s probably another person who’s struggling with this information.”

Chen had kept her identity on the down low at Nueva for nearly three years for the fear that her true identity would be unwelcome. By the time she came out to all of her colleagues, she had been identifying as female in her personal life for so long that breaking the news felt almost anticlimactic.

"By that point, I just wanted to get it over with,” she said.

She had first realized her identity through reading The Gender Creative Child by Diane Ehrensaft, a collection of transgender youth stories that she chose as part of the faculty and staff summer reading assignment in 2018. At the time, Chen had been drawn to it as a supportive parent—her then 18-yearold daughter was navigating her own sexuality, and Chen wanted to be a resource.

But by the time she set the book down, everything in her life “immediately clicked.” The Gender Creative Child was the first time Chen was exposed to transgender youth stories—stories that mirrored her own childhood experiences. It was the first time that she was able to truly identify with a shared experience.

“When I finished the book, I asked myself, ‘Am I in the right gender?’” explained Chen. “And the answer came back, ‘No, you're not. You're female, and you've always been female.’ And with this declaration, ‘I am female,’ my entire life made sense.”

Chen soon began to make changes in her personal life. She set a seven year plan to transition both legally and physically.

“Every seven years your physical body literally changes itself,” Chen explained. “I wanted my mind to really be in alignment with my body, and vice versa—I wanted to make sure the person inside understood all of the nuanced changes that would occur living life as a different gender.”

Chen went on a shopping spree and curated a new wardrobe. She hired a makeup artist who taught her about different beauty products and color palettes—“Sephora is now my Costco,” she joked. She practiced walking gracefully rather than “lumbering,” scheduled laser hair removal appointments, and began hormone replacement therapy.

But Chen’s fear that she might receive backlash—or worse—from members of the Nueva community who disagreed with her transgender identity kept her from presenting as female at work. At the time, no school policy existed that protected trans and nonbinary students and faculty. For Chen, who supported her family, the looming fear was that her job was on the line.

“I wanted something in that handbook to point to if dissenters grouped together and said, ‘We don't want this person here,’” Chen said. “I knew that if there was some written backing, the Head of School would be able to point [to it] and say, ‘This is who we stand for.’”

She began confiding in colleagues she was close with. Not long after she began mapping out her seven year plan, she came out to Alegria Barclay, the former Director of Social Justice and Equity, with whom she shared her concerns about the lack of a protective policy.

In spring of 2021, Barclay organized a committee of faculty and staff—Chen included—to draft a gender inclusion policy for the employee handbook. The process, which took nearly two years, would ensure that both existing practices and new policies were codified to protect community members of all genders. In December 2022, the policy was incorporated into the employee handbook, which was then republished. A policy for the student handbook is currently being finalized, and the team hopes for it to be implemented for the coming school year.

In the time the policy was being drafted, Chen had begun to struggle with gender dysphoria—a feeling of discomfort or distress stemming from dissonance in a person’s biological sex and gender identity.

“What I’ve learned about myself, in terms of my female presentation, is that I am my best and authentic self when all of this comes out at the end of the day,” Chen said. “So [not being able to present as female] was tough. It was like, ‘Right, I have to be back in this body now.’”

And while the feeling wasn’t constant, there were moments when it weighed heavily. On the drive home or during lunch, Chen might pause and realize that she wasn’t who she wanted to be.

“I would let out a sigh, and think to myself, ‘This is not who I am anymore,’” she said. “But I have to do it.”

Even as the policy was being drafted, Chen wasn’t sure whether or not she was ready to invest the time, energy, and money to be in her female presentation for the entire day. Her dysphoria was ultimately a driving force behind her decision to come out—she realized that she would much rather make the investment than have to continue living with the struggle of an incongruent identity.

“I’ve been processing [my identity] now for four years, and it’s only [the community’s] fifth day,” she said. “Sometimes it just takes getting used to, and it's okay to be that way. Everyone needs to process in their own time and space.”

Almost a month after her announcement, Chen feels continually reassured in her decision to share her true self—whether it be through notes of congratulations, a interactions with students and faculty in the hallway, or confidence in her own identity, which she has built through practicing her faith, participating in therapy, and reading and interviewing others about their own transgender experiences.

“I find that when the universe speaks to me, always challenges me to be something better—never to put me into a smaller space, or to make my life ‘less than,’” Chen said. “It's always, ‘Here's the next step. Here's how you're going to challenge yourself. Here's how you're going to live your life in a way that is full of change and adventure.’

Environmentalism isn’t one-size-fits-all

STORY Kayla L.

Three students’ unique skills allow them to make environmental impact in their own ways

AmidstEarthMonth,it’seasytofeel plaguedbyclimateanxietyorconfused byclimateaction.Dr.AyannaElizabeth

Johnson,anAmericanmarinebiologist,

policyexpert,conservationstrategist, andpodcastercameupwiththeconcept of“ClimateVennDiagrams,”asimple methodtodetermineone’spersonalclimate solution. Learn about three students’ climatesolutionsandhowtheywouldfill outtheirClimateVennDiagrams.

SOPHIE D. '24

In the past few years, Sophie D. ’24’s garage has perpetually been on the brink of overflow. The garage’s contents can only be described as “junk,” a strange assortment of flannel jackets, vintage wooden furniture, and random metal material. Yet, Sophie does not see it that way.

Instead, she sees a business: Refurbitches. Founded in 2020 by Sophie, her mom, and aunt, Refurbitches looks for and accepts unused or old furniture, clothing, and materials. The trio takes these materials and and refurbishes them, infusing each project with creativity and renewed life.

The origin of the project started during the pandemic lockdown, when Sophie's mom began to bring home free tables, chairs, and dressers that scattered the sides of the street.

With half a garage, a few power tools, and an abundance of free time, Sophie says that Refurbitches “started as just a cool little project.” Soon, though, Sophie and her mom were refurbishing dozens of items by sewing, woodworking, and painting.

Once the garage becomes entirely full, Sophie and her mom rent a truck to transport their work and set up a stall at the Alameda Point Antiques Faire, where Druskin markets, barters, and sells her wares. After making a sale, Sophie says, “It is so amazing to know that we are making things that people are going to treasure.”

Ultimately, reducing waste and being environmentally-conscious is core to the business. By refurbishing, Sophie and her mom save dozens of items from going to the landfill. They also work together to establish a culture of reusing and repurposing, an anti-trend to a culture dominated by consumerism.

When taking on new refurbishing projects, Sophie considers both the creative and environmental opportunities. She asks herself, “What can we do that is not only useful and economical, but also really cool and unique? What can we do to give things another life?”

ALEX W. '24

Peek into room 1105 on Thursday afternoons, and Alex W. ’24 will be there. With enthusiasm and confidence, he is co-leading the environmental club meeting and encouraging club members to pursue meaningful environmental projects.

Alex's projects in environmentalism go beyond the school’s walls: besides co-leading the school’s Environmental Club and Divestment Team, he has been advocating for reach codes (city-wide codes requiring stronger environmental features in new buildings) at city council meetings and has designed hsClimateAction.com, a platform to provide Bay Area high schoolers with an easy on-ramp to take climate action and have an impact.

Alex credits his skillset—public speaking and organizing others—for being able to drive change. His unique environmental approach combines his skills and goals with his passion for watching his peers have a positive environmental impact.

No matter what project he is working on, Alex describes a guiding philosophy when it comes to working on environmental projects: “Whatever I do, I try to have the biggest impact I can, and do it to 100%. I’m not of the belief of doing a couple small things in different areas. Without 100%, I don’t feel the biggest impact has been achieved.”

HARPER F. '26

Every month, Harper F. ’26 leads a class educating on the science of biodiversity, climate change, and a potential solution: super plants, or plants that are especially capable of sequestering carbon dioxide. Here is the catch: her students are hyper, easily-distracted, but “still open-minded” fourth, fifth, or sixth graders.

These lessons are the essence of Project Super Plants, an environmental education program founded in 2020 and led by Harper. The program’s mission is to motivate and mobilize fourth, fifth, and sixth graders to take environmental action by educating them about super plants. It accomplishes this during a 45-minute classroom visit including a customized presentation, a hands-on super plants planting tutorial, and discussions about the climate.

Reflecting on the inspiration for Project Super Plants, Harper says, “"Past generations have let us down, so we have no choice but to take climate action.”

Then, in sixth grade, she experienced a lightbulb moment: bridging her skill in science and educating younger students with her passion for solving climate change. She decided to educate and empower fourth, fifth, and sixth graders because it was the age she first learned about climate change.

Since then, Harper has expanded the Project, presenting to 896 students in over a dozen Bay Area schools, and started a Nueva leadership team to expand the program’s impact. She is currently partnering with nonprofits and hopes to eventually build chapters at other schools.

Harper explains the biggest emotional driver of her dedication: hope. She says, "We can only make a change if we are hopeful. We need to literally plant seeds for future generations."