Transgender politician Olivia Hill made Nashville history. Now, she's ready to get to work.

Olivia Hill squints against the morning sun as she walks toward the bus stop. She takes confident strides but glances around at the idling bus, busy traffic, and fellow pedestrians.

In a city fraught with political tension, where she might be met with harassment or worse, nobody gives her a second look.

Not the passersby on the sidewalk. Not the driver, who opens the doors after a short break. Not the fellow passengers as they file in and scan their tickets. The city churns around her, starting the day.

It’s her first time at the Hillsboro Transit Center in Nashville. She’s not commuting to work or school. She’s there on official Metro Council business.

She’s riding the bus as an observational exercise, taking stock of the existing routes and transit centers to find out what’s working and what’s not, before she officially starts work.

As a Metro Council member at-large, Hill will represent the entire city of Nashville.

She won her seat in September's runoff and is Nashville and Tennessee's first openly transgender elected official. She ran a campaign with an emphasis on her background as a veteran and utilities expert, appealing to voters who want to see a magnifying glass raised to the infrastructure problems facing the growing city.

She also rose in the local political arena against the backdrop of anti-trans and anti-LGBTQ+ legislation in Tennessee. Lawmakers at the statehouse passed bills earlier this year banning gender-affirming care for transgender minors and restricting public drag shows.

The laws brought a national spotlight to the state, leading LGBTQ+ rights organizations to funnel money and support to politicians identifying and aligning with the community.

That ended up working in Hill's favor. She received training and campaign help from the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute, which she said was crucial to her success.

"The whole trans community in this state is standing a little taller," she said.

Hill feels supported by her fellow council members, a majority of whom are women for the first time in Nashville’s history. For the most part, she feels supported by the city she has called home for 57 years.

“I tried my best to run as a qualified human,” Hill said. “The fact that I’m trans is just a part of who I am. I’m here to help fix the broken parts of Nashville.”

Learning and listening

Hill wears thick-framed black cat-eye glasses that accentuate her high cheekbones. Matte red lipstick has become somewhat of a signature look in recent months, and the bold lip matches bright red Vans sneakers poking out from wide-leg jeans.

She’s a self-proclaimed nerd when it comes to infrastructure, and she’s brimming with ideas about how to improve Nashville’s, including the transportation system.

Hill is aligned on that front with several local lawmakers, including Mayor Freddie O’Connell, who rode the bus for years in order to save money and afford homeownership. Hill believes a competent public transit system robust enough to serve all members of the growing city (even second and third shift workers) is going to take major investments.

But she doesn’t plan to charge in and bulldoze her way through the issue. Her mind is not entirely made up, which might be one of her strongest traits.

“I don’t want to be a bull in a china shop,” Hill said. “I want to go in. I want to meet with all the department heads. Start learning where the problems are and come up with the best solutions.”

It's the same approach Hill brought to her interactions with voters on the campaign trail. She said people are uneducated about trans issues, which is where hostility can come from. Hill does her best to answer questions with humility and grace, explaining she's a human first and being trans is just part of being herself.

She waited 50 years to be her true self. She's not waiting anymore.

Overcoming adversity, discrimination

“This kills me,” Hill said, interrupting herself as the bus made a stop near Vanderbilt University. “Sorry. I have this entire campus memorized.”

Hill worked for the university for almost three decades, holding every position at the power plant until serving as the facility supervisor. She has worked as a plumber, pipe fitter, electrician, welder, diesel mechanic and boiler specialist.

She went through her transition during her time at the university in 2019, and it came at a high cost. She tried to steel herself against the transphobia she knew would be hurled her way. But the treatment she received was different than what she expected.

"It absolutely rocked my world," Hill said.

Hill was met with hostility from some colleagues. Several people misgendered her and refused to acknowledge her as a woman. Sexist comments came next, which was what surprised her the most. Even when she was accepted as a woman, she was met with discrimination.

Hill filed a lawsuit against the university in 2021 detailing discriminatory treatment by her supervisors, co-workers and subordinates at the power plant.

The university settled a few months later. Hill announced her retirement the same day the case was closed.

Her fond memories of her time working for the university are not tainted.

“I love Vanderbilt,” she said. “I miss being on campus as much as I used to be. It is such a beautiful campus.”

Overcoming that adversity is what made Hill a great candidate, supporters of her campaign attest.

Annise Parker, former mayor of Houston and president and CEO of the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund and Victory Institute, said LGBTQ+ candidates can win if they make their personal stories central to their campaign. Overcoming adversity and discrimination can help candidates connect with voters of all identities and backgrounds, she said.

"The fact that you are trans or gay or lesbian is not a reason for people to vote for you," Parker said.

"It is part of who you are, however, and how you dealt with it is the reason for people to vote for you. What you represent can be a reason for people to vote for you. It can make you more open to understanding other people's challenges."

It was a lesson Hill learned during her intensive training at the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute, which turned her campaign strategy upside down.

"I got back from that training and fired everyone on my team," Hill said. "I realized I was going in the wrong direction."

That led her to reach out to Spencer Bowers, the campaign manager she credits for all of her success.

Now that she has won her seat at the table, Hill said she plans to "work her butt off."

"I just want to go in there and get busy," she said. "And what that will do is the trans kids will be like ‘wow, she’s doing it.’ I know there’s going to be people watching me, waiting on me to fail."

Preparing to start the work

A man she doesn’t recognize approaches Hill as she makes her way up the steps of the Historic Metro Courthouse.

“Ms. Hill, I know you may not know me, but I just wanted to wish you a congratulations,” he says, shaking her hand emphatically.

“I know you have a lot to do so I’ll let you go.”

“I’m still not used to that,” she says as she resumes walking.

An undeniable halo of popularity now hovers around Hill. She’s stopped in public constantly by fellow elected officials wishing her congratulations.

During a photo shoot in the lobby of the Metro Courthouse, Mayor Freddie O'Connell approaches Hill with a huge grin and warm embrace. He congratulates her and says he is excited to begin working with her.

Afterwards, Hill is almost giddy. "The mayor just hugged me!" she says. "The mayor knows who I am!"

Stories have cropped up in People magazine, The Guardian, The Hill and Daily Mail. A national spotlight has swung toward Nashville, Tennessee, once again. This time, for a different reason.

Hill is trying not to let the attention faze her.

She’s made history. But the work has only just begun.

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Meet Olivia Hill, Nashville's first transgender elected official