Fighting for Her Right, Denying It to Others: The Contradictions of Renée Richards

Łukasz Muniowski
University of Szczecin, Poland

In the conclusion to their newest book, Julie Kliegman writes: “In any case, this book isn’t about The Trans Athlete Problem or any Trans Problem or even Transness writ large. It’s a book about Renée Richards” (p. 248), despite injecting themselves time and time again into the portrait of this remarkable person, providing comments, observations and suggestions that make Finding Renée Richards a dialogue between the past and the present perspectives on/of transsexualism. In describing the life of the AMAB athlete (assigned male at birth) who in 1976 successfully sued the USTA, WTA and US Open Championship Committee, Kliegman takes detours to disagree with, comment on or criticize people whose systems of values were formed around half a century ago, expressing disappointment at the differences between them, as if their belonging to the LGBTQIA+ community predisposed them to sharing views outside of identity, gender and sexual preferences.

Throughout the book the author finds themselves engaged in what they call a “disagreement” central to the whole project – that of Richards’ unwillingness to allow others to experience what she wanted for herself. While she demanded fairness, understood as the possibility to play competitive tennis against the best players of her gender, Richards is a strong advocate against trans athlete participation in the sport on the basis of the advantage that AMAB athletes can have when competing with women. The fact that Richards never placed higher than 20^th in the WTA rankings alone seems to contradict the idea of domination that in her opinion such an athlete can achieve. Her views are therefore in alignment with one of the more offensive executive orders of Donald Trump’s administration, “Keeping Men Out of Women’s Sports,” even though Richards’ language is more sensitive.

Impartiality is hard to achieve when writing about issues close to heart and progress is a slow process, so the frustration is understandable, but the story and the statements are strong on their own, the reader can draw their own conclusions.

While justified in pointing out Richards’ hypocrisy regarding trans athletes’ participation in sports competitions, attributing her change of views to “finally [having] the right read on the situation” (p. 242), positions the author as the one who knew how things were and Richards had to catch up. It’s as if Richards’ unwillingness to keep up with the times (at age 91) was disappointing for Kliegman. The author has every right to feel that way, as Richards is far from a perfect prophet/pioneer, deflecting responsibility for the role that she played and the precedent she should’ve set with her trial against the three aforementioned organizations. Instead of commenting on Richards’ statements, the book would be better served (pun intended) with Kliegman allowing her to reveal herself. Impartiality is hard to achieve when writing about issues close to heart and progress is a slow process, so the frustration is understandable, but the story and the statements are strong on their own, the reader can draw their own conclusions.

And it all starts in July 1976 at the Lo Jolla Tennis Tournament Championships, with the 31-year-old Renée Clark entering the competition. In her old documents she functioned as Richard H. Raskind and was actually 41 years old. When that was revealed to the public – by Richard Carlson, Tucker’s father – Richards became the unwanted, reluctant avatar for gender-affirming surgery and was forced to endure transphobic attacks, along with constant misgendering and deadnaming. While it would be uplifting to say that nowadays things look different, even now the article on Richards on BNP Paribas-sponsored We Are Tennis website bears the offensive title “Dude Looks Like a Lady.” After being unwillingly outed, Richards did not go into hiding; instead, she pushed through and continued to play her favorite sport wherever she could, despite limited possibilities, as fellow women players were boycotting tournaments in which she was to appear.

Her claim to international fame (or infamy, dependent on who you ask) were the legal steps she took to participate in the US Open. The Supreme Court’s decision to allow her inclusion in the tour was groundbreaking, but it didn’t set a precedent, nor did it lead to legions of men “becoming” women in order to dominate them in sporting competitions. As observed by one of the interviewees, “Renée wasn’t trying to make a statement about trans people and their rights in the world” (p. 153). She was an individual who just wanted to play tennis and inspired a lot of trans people, as proven by the stack of letters she got for her decision.

Luckily for her, Richards found influential allies in Bobby Riggs, Billie Jean King and Martina Navratilova – something that current-day trans athletes might use more often. The stories concerning Riggs are entertaining, and King is just an icon, a true ally never afraid to speak her mind, while the fragments involving Navratilova are troubling, as she comes across as transphobic through her statements and strong opinions alone. If the author took that approach with Richards and her views, the book would make for an even better read. The context and the interviews paint a vivid picture of a reluctant trailblazer. Just like the author, I get a mixed reading of Richards – the person, but I could have reached it without them taking me by the hand.

Copyright © Łukasz Muniowski 2026