On a stone slab by the cold waters of Austin’s Barton Springs, transgender Texans celebrate existence. Against the best efforts of the state, they’re still here, laughing and swimming in the heat of a late-August afternoon.
Each year, nearly 800,000 people pay a small admission fee to pass through the gates of the capital city’s spring-fed treasure. Inside, visitors plunge into the pool, which stays between 68 and 74 degrees year-round, then lounge on the grassy hillsides that surround it.
That summer day, though, we weren’t within the manicured grounds of the official swimming hole but beyond its boundaries, on its spillway, where there are few rules and fewer lifeguards. This is the “free side.” A pink-, blue-, and white-striped Pride flag hung from the fence dividing us from the paying crowd. Water splashed out of the pool and back into the springs themselves, past a cement wall splattered with graffiti chaos. The sounds of rambunctious dogs, allowed on this side, mingled with 2010s hits (“Born This Way,” “We Are Young”) from a large Bluetooth sound system, perched precariously at the water’s edge.
