The Conru Foundation, founded by Andrew Conru, is exploring whether to commit up to $1,000,000 to fund open, rigorous research on gender identity. Before any decisions are made, we want to hear from you. What topics need better evidence? What questions have been ignored? Your input will help shape whether and how this moves forward.
Share Your InputTrans people have good reason to be skeptical of research about them. Too often, studies have been conducted without their input, used to justify policies that harm them, or funded by people whose motives they have every right to question. The result is a field where almost nobody trusts the process, and important questions go unstudied because no one wants to step into the crossfire. My first attempt at funding research was naive: I found researchers on my own, wrote a check, and hoped the work would speak for itself. It did not. This time, I want to try something different: put the community in the driver's seat. Let trans people, families, clinicians, and the broader public help decide what gets studied, who studies it, and how the process works. I do not know if this will succeed, but I believe it is worth trying.
A note from the funder
My name is Andrew Conru. I am the founder of the Conru Foundation, a nonprofit based in Seattle that supports the arts and human connection. About five years ago, I also funded two academic studies on gender identity. I am a Stanford-trained engineer who has spent most of my career building internet companies. I am not a researcher or a clinician. I was just a guy with questions about my own experience who went looking for answers and found very few. I also have a personal connection to questions of gender identity and expression, which is part of why I care about this work being done well. You can learn more about my current work through the Conru Foundation, the Conru Art Foundation in Seattle, and my personal site.
What I funded before
Around 2020-2021, I privately funded academic researchers studying gender identity and sexual orientation. I believed these were important scientific questions that deserved more attention, and I still do. That funding supported peer-reviewed work published in academic journals.
I did not have a review panel, a public process, or community input. I funded researchers whose questions interested me and whose credentials seemed strong. The work was done in good faith, but I have come to understand that good faith is not enough in a field this politicized and this personal. For the last several years, I have been focused on art projects in Seattle through the Conru Art Foundation, but this experience stayed with me.
What I learned
I learned that in highly contested fields, the process matters as much as the science. When funding decisions are made privately, even well-intentioned ones get framed as agenda-driven. Researchers get attacked for who funded them, not for the quality of their work. The conversation becomes about motives instead of methods.
I also learned that I was operating with a limited perspective. I was funding questions that interested me as an outsider, without deeply engaging the communities most affected by the research. That was a mistake I want to correct.
Why I am doing this differently
This time, I want to listen first. Instead of choosing researchers and questions myself, I am asking the public, especially trans people, families, clinicians, and anyone who cares about these issues, to tell me what matters most. If this moves forward, the process will be transparent, the review panel will be independent, and I will not have a vote on what gets funded.
I do not expect everyone to trust this immediately. Trust has to be earned. But I believe this approach, starting with listening rather than deciding, is the right way to begin.
I want to be specific about what I funded and why, because I think the honest version is more useful than whatever you may have read.
I have been a crossdresser for most of my adult life. You can see a couple of my self-portraits en femme at the Art Love Salon in Seattle. You can also read more about that side of me on my personal page. That experience made me want to understand more about how gender identity develops, how people navigate it, and why there is so little rigorous research on the full spectrum of gender-diverse experiences.
Around 2020, during a period when much of academia had slowed to a crawl, I started searching online for researchers studying crossdressing and gender identity. There were not many. I eventually found Michael Bailey at Northwestern University. I spoke with him, told him about my own experience, and he struck me as genuinely curious and methodologically serious. Through Bailey, I connected with one of his former graduate students, Kevin Hsu, at the University of Pennsylvania, and James Morandini at the University of Melbourne.
I ended up working most closely with Kevin and James on a peer-reviewed study about gender expression in bisexual men, drawing on my own personal experience to help shape the research questionnaire. Separately, Bailey was developing a longitudinal study on how gender identity develops in young people (later called AYAGDOS). He needed funding to write up the proposal and get it through the Institutional Review Board at Northwestern.
I donated $50,000 to Northwestern to support that work. To put that in context, after the university takes its overhead, that covers about half of a research assistant for a year. It was seed funding to help get the study off the ground, not a major grant. I have not spoken with Bailey in a couple of years, and I assume the study received additional funding from other sources after that.
I was not a scientist making expert judgments. I was a guy with personal questions who went looking for answers and found very few researchers working in this space. I should have done more due diligence and sought broader input before writing that check. That is a mistake I own.
I later learned about controversies related to some of Bailey's earlier research. I understand why those controversies make people wary. In a field where people have been genuinely harmed by conversion therapy, gatekeeping, and having their identities denied, any research that could be perceived as questioning the validity of someone's identity is going to meet resistance, regardless of the methodology.
That does not mean the questions should not be asked. It means they need to be asked with more care, more community involvement, and more transparency than I provided. I am hopeful that the longitudinal study will help parents and young people make informed decisions about what is still a deeply understudied process.
In recent years, I shifted my funding toward the arts here in Seattle. But the experience taught me the importance of due diligence and coalition building. I do not want to fund more research unless I have the support and involvement of the community it affects. That is what TransResearch is for: a way to do this right, together, in the open.
The Conru Foundation has given to hundreds of organizations over the past decade, spanning arts, education, humanitarian causes, and LGBTQ+ support. TransResearch is an extension of that commitment, not a departure from it.
Through the Conru Art Foundation in Seattle, we also run the Art Love Salon, the Seattle Art Prize, and artist workshop programs. The foundation's core values are beauty, truth, and love. Those are not slogans. They are the lens through which every funding decision is made, including this one.
When a reporter contacted me about my previous research funding, I explained that I had gone looking for researchers studying crossdressing and gender identity, found very few, and funded the ones I found. The reporter noted that the specific researchers I funded are often criticized for their methodology and academic conduct. That conversation was a turning point. I realized that if even a knowledgeable journalist covering this beat had concerns about how this research was being done, the answer was not to keep funding privately. The answer was to ask the community directly. Let the people most affected help decide what gets studied and who does the work. I decided to put up ten times what I funded before and build a process that does it right: transparent, community-driven, with an independent panel. My role is simply to bring voices together and give them the power to direct the research.
Yes. I have my own experience with gender expression and identity that I have lived with for a long time. It is not something I talk about in clinical terms because I do not think labels are the point. What matters is that this experience has given me a personal understanding of why these questions matter and why everyone navigating them deserves honesty and respect, not political noise.
The Conru Foundation, established by Andrew Conru. The Foundation has given to hundreds of organizations over the past decade, spanning arts, education, humanitarian causes, and LGBTQ+ support.
No. This is an independent initiative. The researchers behind AYAGDOS are not part of this project. TransResearch is designed to be a fresh start with community input, independent review, and full transparency.
Year 1 commits $500,000 for five grants of $100,000 each. Year 2 commits an additional $500,000, contingent on the success and community reception of Year 1. The process is committed to including trans and gender-diverse researchers and ensuring the people most affected by the research have a meaningful role in shaping it.
No. The funder does not serve on the review panel and cannot override its decisions. The panel will be independent, with its scoring framework and rationale made public.
Questions? Write to transresearch@conru.org
Check any topics where you think better research is needed. This is not a commitment to fund any specific study. It is a way for us to listen before we act.
Your responses are confidential. We will never share your email without permission.