Seeing Sasha Jane Lawerson paddle out into the chilly Pacific, it becomes hard to tell her apart from the dozens of other surfers waiting for their moment. Lawerson is patient, and it's a long time before she comes cruising on a slow-rolling southerly wave — the kind that takes you all the way. Right now, none of her pro titles matter, nor do the culture-war dramas of being the first trans surfer on the competitive circuit. The ride is everything.
Until last week, Lowerson had spent months out in the ocean as she recovered from gender-affirming surgeries. Surfing hasn't felt the same since she recognized her true identity.
“It's easier,” he says with a smile. “I don't have that fake front.” Lowerson adds that she tried to catch some waves in January, though “it was a major setback” — so soon after her procedures. Still, he uploaded footage of her from that day YouTube channelwhere she has recounted her transition.
It's a bright, cool March afternoon at Surfers Point Cafe in Ventura, California. Lawerson talks candidly about her past struggles and how she came close to quitting surfing when she began the transition in 2020. (She ended up contacting Surfing Australia, the country's governing body for the sport, and working with to implement a new transgender inclusion policy allowed her to compete in the women's division.) Still, her mood matches the sunny calm of this beach town.
Sasha Jane Lowerson in Ventura, California, March 2024.
Photos by Jessica Lehrman
Hailing from South West Australia, she goes for the local with her bleached hair, ski hat and cropped t-shirt. Lawerson, 45, has been surfing all her life and has dominated several men's events over the decades, claiming the Western Australian state title as recently as 2019. She laughs about acting like an “uber dude” but remembers the difficulty of Maintaining a “fake” macho persona: After a few weeks in the water, he retreated inward, dreading leaving the house for days at a time and battling thoughts of self-harm. “I would try to take my own life,” he says. Despite her impressive career thus far, it seems only now, as a woman in an adopted country, that she has the life she's been looking for.
“I found the California community so much better” than the surf scene back home, Lowerson explains. “Even the middle-aged white guy [here] he accepts me in the water. Whereas, generally, in Western Australia, it's the polar opposite. I hope it changes.”
Lawerson came to the United States in 2023 not only as an accomplished surfer, but also as a craftsman who began learning the art of designing boards as a teenager. In collaboration with Mando, a non-binary board shaper from California and owner Mando Surf Co. in Carmel, spent five years developing Sasha Jane's signature Longboard, a “rider nose” with a mermaid logo — Lowerson's is pastel pink. To become the brand's official ambassador, Lawerson is applying for a work visa and may eventually try to become a US citizen.
Mando is a perfect fit for Lowerson thanks to a shared philosophy of expanding surf culture to all kinds of people. We walk over to her truck so she can show off a Mando model she particularly admires—she's modeled a few herself—called the “Shrimp Taco.” It's adorably small, though Lowerson explains it could support a 250-pound rider and fits in the average car's trunk. “The ocean is for everyone to share and enjoy,” he says, and Mando's mission is “to make surfing accessible to anyone.”
Of course, not every brand takes this approach. Last January, Australian surfwear company Rip Curl debuted an online ad featuring Lawerson in the water. In a voiceover, he describes surfing as dancing on a moving surface. There is no talk of gender or competition. Immediately after the video was released, American professional surfer Bethany Hamilton, who is a Rip Curl sponsor and had already she objected loudly the inclusion of transgender athletes in the female categories, he tweeted, “Athletes with body parts should not compete in women's sports.” Although he did not name Lowerson, Rip Curl pulled the clip two days later, claiming it was for Lawerson's safety. “Which was just the biggest bullshit ever,” says Lowerson. (Hamilton and Rip Curl did not respond to requests for comment.)
Lowerson's impulse, when Rip Curl had initially reached out, was to reject them because of their relationship with Hamilton. Then she thought the ad could be a victory for transgender representation and agreed to it. In her view, the company was simply “naive” about the trolling responses they would receive, despite her warnings of a maelstrom of outrage like the one unleashed by conservatives over Bud Light's endorsement of trans influencer Dylan Mulvaney last year.
The same animosity had erupted in 2022 when Lawerson won two women's divisions at the Western Australian state titles. She had already made history as the first transgender woman to surf professionally two months ago. he just happened to be ninth in that event. It was a headline that drew outraged headlines in the conservative media. “For trans athletes, it's okay for us to compete if we don't do well,” Lowerson laments.
Lawerson takes us back to where she lives in Ventura, the home of friend Rachel Lord, another board shaper who runs a business called Lord Bords outside a studio shed in her backyard. We are greeted by Lord and her sweet, scruffy dog. “Tiny guy!” Lawerson cries. (It's not just a term of endearment but the pup's proper name.) Lord and Lawerson explain that their plans to go surfing that morning were derailed after they found another dog loose in the street, and they combed the neighborhood for hours trying to find him. owner. only to discover that he lived right across the street.
“The waves are good, honey,” Lawerson tells Lord, who pulls up a camera feed showing the current surf conditions. The two gossip a bit about the other locals they might run into on the water today, though there's no one Lawerson is really worried about running into. “I'm not talking about any kind of disrespect or disrespect here,” he reiterates. “You know, when you're out at the local bars after surfing, at night, eating and drinking, people are more than happy to meet me and have a chat.” And just existing as herself in the public eye is a victory. “You know, being visible is important,” says Lowerson. “Because you can't be what you can't see. This is important to me, to help the next generation.”
Achieving this positive outlook can be a challenge in itself. Organizers of an event in May in Huntington Beach, Calif. — that was to be her first since her surgeries — barred Lawerson from participating, even though they initially accepted her entry fee. He says their reasoning was based on a misinterpretation of an International Surfing Association rule he knows inside and out. The California Coastal Commission ruled that the decision violated a state anti-discrimination law and that Lawerson should be allowed to compete, even though she ultimately chose to skip the event.
While these setbacks are disappointing, they have not dampened her passion. Lawerson received an outpouring of support from other professionals, including members of the world champion Hawaii longboarding team, who encouraged her to keep competing. Meanwhile, orders are coming in for her new board and she's working on a memoir about growing up during the '90s surf boom. When she and Lord and I get back to the beach so they can finally suit up and take their walks for the day, they end up talking to some friends who are just packing up to leave, discussing how unusually cold the water is. and exchange stories of serious injuries. “This is the lot scene,” Lawerson says cheerfully as she applies sunscreen to her face. It's the warm, welcoming, distinctly Californian community he described earlier, and there's no doubt he belongs there.
“I don't see myself as a trailblazer,” says the modest Lawerson, though she hopes that “there's a girl out there who opens up your magazine and says, 'She does. I can do it.'”
from our partners at https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/trans-surfer-sasha-jane-lowerson-interview-1235025958/
