At a passing glance, it may seem odd that the International Women’s Brass Conference, a nonprofit that’s worked with (at least some) gender-marginalized people since its inception, might not handle gender very well. Folks who can’t see non-cis microaggressions may never spot any issues in their social media content. People who have never been to an IWBC conference (or who only stayed for the competitions) may be unfamiliar with the ways in which gatekeeping is enforced not only in how expensive attendance is but in how attendees are treated once they arrive. Those who aren’t aware of the current legislative firestorm around trans and gender-expansive people in the U.S. may not think to question the assertions IWBC has made regarding its upcoming 2022 conference at the University of North Texas.

However, all of these things and more have crossed my mind over the course of 2021. And in light of continuing missteps and inaction from IWBC leadership, particularly as acceptance and rejection letters are being sent to hopeful presenters, I’d like to chronicle some of the biggest red flags here so those interested can access many of them in one place. This is by no means a comprehensive accounting—my own experiences with IWBC only date back to about mid-2018, I’m white and abled, and I attended the 2019 conference at ASU while all but the handful of folks I’d confided in assumed I was a cis woman. There are important, differently-marginalized perspectives that I can reference but cannot represent myself, especially the experiences and concerns of our Black, Brown, Indigenous, and Asian colleagues. As more writings and public online commentary about IWBC cross my desk, I’ll link them within this post. If you’re here, I implore you to seek out not only the thoughts I’ve laid out below but also insights I’ve missed and those that are yet to be articulated.

As transformative an experience as IWBC 2019 was for me in some ways, certain events made me pay close attention to the organization’s forthcoming endeavors. I’d hoped to see scholarships (to the conference or otherwise) and other opportunities specifically aimed at offering financial assistance or recognition to Black, Brown, Indigenous, and Asian brass players, preferably alongside other endeavors targeting trans, nonbinary, gender-expansive, and Two-Spirit brass musicians. Because I wasn’t familiar with IWBC’s specific policies on gender-marginalized people who aren’t cis women, and in part because I was largely still closeted at the time, I held off on being too loud in the aftermath of the 2019 conference. I knew I’d want to talk shortcomings eventually (and I did, a little), but at the time, I was clinging tightly to the sense of belonging I’d found in small pockets, even as I feared it was both conditional and temporary. Then we had the pandemic, and then ADHD fucked up most of my 2021, so I’m much later to writing more about IWBC than I wanted to be, but here I am.

For ease of reading, I’ve separated some of the events that highlight my biggest concerns regarding IWBC and gender into the sections listed below. Use the links in this paragraph to access specific topics at will, though I’d recommend a full read through to get a bird’s-eye view of what I’m seeing.

• March 1 Mentorship Program announcement
• March 10 Penny Turner Young Artist Award announcement
• Giving Tuesday (November 30) fundraising video
• Misrepresentation on the IWBC website
• What Should IWBC Do?
• What Can Everyone Else (Including 2022 Presenters) Do?

Full disclosure: my membership lapsed quite some time ago, but while I am not currently a dues-paying IWBC member, much of my current decision not to renew is based on one idea: I cannot in good conscience financially support an organization that claims to welcome (in some capacity) me and so many other gender-marginalized people yet does not have the expertise or the infrastructure to ensure they can deliver on that promise.