Four members of the most famous ‘bunch of nurses’ in Britain are wondering how things might have panned out if they hadn’t been, as one of them puts it, ‘just a bunch of female nurses’.
Lisa Lockey, 52, who has spent 35 years working for the NHS, poses an alternative scenario to illustrate her theory.
‘Say one of us did this – just changed our name, and without any other evidence that we were transitioning, walked into the male changing room, believing we had every right to be in there, in our bra and knickers, as the men got undressed. How would that have been received?
‘You can joke about it and say, ‘Oh the men would love that’, but in all seriousness, I don’t think they would like it at all.
‘I also think that if the male surgeons, anaesthetists and consultants in that male changing room had something to say about the situation, it would be dealt with very differently from the off.
‘It’s the difference between men and women, isn’t it? Men are listened to way more than women are, unfortunately.’
(L-R) Tracey Hooper, Annice Grundy, Lisa Lockey and Bethany Hutchinson are preparing for their courtroom showdown after they were treated ‘like naughty schoolgirls’ following a complaint against a transgender NHS nurse using their changing room
We will never know how that hypothetical situation would have turned out, but we do know what happened when 26 nurses at Darlington Memorial Hospital – Lisa included – spoke up after they found themselves in a similar, albeit reverse, situation.
Back in 2023, to their abject horror, they discovered that they were expected to undress alongside a biological male colleague who went by the name of Rose and identified as a woman – even while striding around in boxer shorts, male genitalia very much intact and in evidence.
After questioning whether this could possibly be right, and saying they felt threatened and intimidated by the presence of a male in the female changing room – one, it is important to note, who was not taking hormones, and had been open about the fact that ‘she’ was sexually active and trying for a baby with ‘her’ female partner – the nurses were told by their HR department that they were the ones with the problem.
They needed to ‘broaden their mindset’, they were told. To be more ‘inclusive’. They also needed to be ‘re-educated’.
Their anger is still palpable today. ‘We were treated like naughty schoolgirls,’ says Tracey Hooper, 46, who has clocked up more than 20 years as a nurse and thought she was unshockable. ‘When we raised genuine concerns, the message was, ‘Shut up and go away.’ ‘
In a move that may well be recorded in the history books, the Darlington Nurses – now heroines to many – refused to be silenced.
Eight of them not only went public with their concerns, even in the face of threats of disciplinary action and warnings that they could lose their jobs, but effectively went to war against their own bosses.
They launched an extraordinary legal action against County Durham and Darlington NHS Foundation Trust, accusing it of sexual harassment and discrimination, claiming that the trans-inclusive agenda was effectively trampling over women’s hard-fought rights.
On April 2, five of them: Lisa, Tracey, together with colleagues Bethany Hutchison, Annice Grundy and Joanne Bradbury, attended court for the preliminary hearing of this landmark case – one that could have ramifications for every public sector organisation in Britain.
Although the case had been scheduled to start in June, the Trust asked for more time to conclude its internal investigation and will now be heard in October.
But already the nurses have notched up a victory: they objected to an application for the transgender colleague concerned – Rose Henderson – to be granted anonymity during the proceedings, and won.
The judge ruled that allowing Rose’s identity to be concealed would be against the principle of open justice.
Bethany, 37, the youngest of the nurses but the one who led the revolt, explains why they feel it was important for Rose to be identified. ‘I like to quote my friend Sandie Peggie on this [a Scottish nurse who has taken similar legal action north of the border]. She says privacy is for changing rooms, not courtrooms.
‘This case isn’t about Rose – our issues are with the Trust, not Rose personally.
‘But at the same time I think it’s important that the public sees what we are dealing with here.
‘Most people don’t have any idea, because the name Rose conjures up images of a delicate, fragile sort of person. This is not a delicate sort of person – this is a big, burly bloke.’
The four women objected to an application for their transgender colleague – Rose Henderson – to be granted anonymity during the proceedings, and won
Having already faced accusations that they are bigoted transphobic bullies – astonishingly, including from their former union representative – the women want every twist and turn of this debacle to be laid bare in a courtroom.
Lisa says: ‘I think the public will be astonished at what women are being asked to accept. It’s completely crazy.
‘This isn’t a group of mouthy women who are twisting against a poor transgender person who is just trying to quietly live their life. It is not. It’s about so much more.
‘It baffles me that people keep saying this is a trans issue. What we are dealing with is a man who is obviously attracted to women being in the female changing room, which is supposed to be a safe space.’
It is striking that every single time these women refer to Rose they use the he/him pronouns. They all see a clear difference between the transgender patients they’ve treated using preferred pronouns – and there have been a few – and Rose.
‘It’s about respect,’ says Lisa. ‘But there is no mutual respect with Rose. He’s not bothered. There is no consideration there. It’s like rocking up to a party you haven’t been invited to.’
It feels terribly wrong, too, that such an almighty fight is being left to ordinary nurses. Some of the most powerful people in the land – up to and including Health Secretary Wes Streeting – have paid lip service to backing them, yet still it has come down to these women putting their careers on the line.
While they may have the backing of high-profile supporters such as J. K. Rowling (‘millions of women stand with the Darlington nurses,’ she has said), they do not have her financial cushion.
As we sort the logistics for this interview, the madness of what they feel they have to do – ‘for our daughters, and for everyone’s daughters,’ says Annice, 55 – becomes apparent.
These warrior women, as they have been dubbed, are all working mothers with varying shift patterns and giddying to-do lists. They have children to be picked up from nursery, grandchildren to mind. Accommodating others is their default setting, even off duty.
Annice, who works full time, and has ‘a son, a daughter, a stepdaughter, five grandchildren and a mum who was widowed three years ago’, apologises for having to tweak the timings. She has to run an elderly neighbour to a hospital appointment. It is also obvious that these are the sort of women for whom making others feel comfortable is hardwired.
There is a moment where I ask Lisa how many children she has – is it two or three? ‘Now I don’t want you to feel mortified when I tell you…’ she begins, before explaining she has two living sons, but lost her daughter to cancer when she was four years old.
And yet these are the women who will walk into a courtroom, knowing they are going to be called uncaring bigots with nothing better to do than cause trouble.
Of course they are terrified, but point out they are acting for so many others who can’t put their heads above the parapet – including the international nurses who dare not speak out for fear of losing their visas and right to work.
Even so, they are acutely aware of how much is at risk. ‘Of course it’s a worry,’ says Bethany. ‘It’s my livelihood, my career and I love my job.’
You do wonder if the HR managers at County Durham and Darlington NHS Foundation Trust ever called up Bethany’s file before they told her she needed re-educating.
This is a woman with three degrees, including – yes, really – a master’s in disaster management. She downplays the academia, joking about her convoluted path to the NHS wards: she studied environmental development at university, then a stint working on a malaria project in West Africa as part of her dissertation sparked a passion for nursing.
‘The plan was to kind of save the world, maybe work for Medecins Sans Frontieres, but that stopped when I married and had children,’ she laughs.
The irony, though… the woman who could have had a career on the front line has indeed found herself on a battlefield, leading her own little army.
She baulks at that suggestion, however. ‘I don’t see myself as any sort of warrior woman,’ she says.
None of them do. Annice points out that before she was a nurse she used to be a store manager for Laura Ashley – hardly a training ground for ‘this sort of thing’.
The tribunal expects to hear from 30 witnesses, these women – and Rose – included.
Doubtless there will be debate about who said what and when, but what’s striking about the women’s accounts today is the sense that full conflict could have been avoided if they’d been listened to.
It isn’t known exactly when Rose began to identify as a woman, but they had been vaguely aware of a transgender nurse working at the hospital for several years, but no one thought much of it.
Lisa recalls her first encounter with Rose, in the summer of 2023. ‘I walked in to get changed one day and heard a male voice. At first, I thought I’d come in the wrong door, but then I remembered the transgender person.’
When she saw Rose, however, she was shocked. ‘I expected someone in women’s clothes, but although he has long hair he just wears jeans and a T-shirt. I can’t stress this enough – he looks and dresses like a man.’
She was embarrassed to strip off in front of ‘this obvious man’, so she didn’t. ‘I rummaged about in my bag and pretended to be busy until he left.’
Her second encounter with Rose came some weeks later, after a busy shift.
‘It was as busy as I’d ever seen it, some people coming off shift, some going on. There were bodies – boobs and bums, basically – everywhere. Then I saw Rose just walking about chatting to everyone.
‘I’m not the sort who strips off anyway, and I remember thinking, ‘Well, I’m not getting undressed in front of you,’ so gathered my things up and went to the toilet cubicle. I was in there for quite a while, but when I came out Rose was still there, walking about. I remember thinking, ‘How long does it take you to get changed?’ ‘
Although she insists there was no confrontation, ‘I did detect a look… a sort of, ‘I dare you to say something’. But I just smiled and left.’
Lisa stresses that she went home that day thinking she was the problem and that she needed to be ‘more accepting’.
The Mail on Sunday revealed the nurses’ complaints last summer
Yet in their break-room, the nurses started nervously talking about how Rose’s presence was making them feel uncomfortable.
Nor could the women ignore the fact that Rose had been open with colleagues about not taking female hormones through a desire to try for a baby. Mind-blowing.
A major flag came when some of the international nurses ‘whose religion or culture forbids them from undressing in front of men who aren’t their husbands’ began to share their distress.
Some began to wear to wear leggings and T-shirts under their clothes, to avoid ever being undressed when they changed into their uniforms.
Bethany was the one who first spoke to superiors. She says: ‘I had a word with the sister on the ward, and she spoke to senior management, who said there was nothing they could do because of the Trust’s inclusiveness policy.’
At the same time, however, Bethany says she was taken aside by a clearly upset colleague.
‘She approached me cautiously, bless her. She said she was glad I’d raised it because she’d been abused as a child, by a man, and had been having panic attacks in the changing room because she had to get dressed with a man in there.
‘That was it for me. I thought, ‘This is wrong.”
By now Bethany had sought legal advice, and was furiously reading up on the law around safeguarding. Word had swept through the hospital that the nurses were not accepting the status quo.
Lisa recalls the relief. ‘I remember thinking, ‘Oh, it’s not just me then. Good.’ That was when the ball started rolling, slowly.’
That was in August 2023, although the first formal complaint was made in April 2024, when the women felt they were out of other options.
The women are being supported by the Christian Legal Centre. Chief Executive Andrea Williams says that accountability and justice in this case was ‘long overdue’, adding: It is completely unacceptable that ideological radicals within NHS management have turned what should be a safe and supportive workplace into a cultural battleground.’
A spokesman for County Durham and Darlington NHS Foundation Trust, said: ‘[We are] fully committed to supporting all members of our staff and ensuring a safe, respectful and inclusive working environment. We recognise legal proceedings are under way and we are engaging with the process in full accordance with employment law and the tribunal’s instructions. As this case is ongoing, it would not be appropriate to comment in detail.’
This case will pivot on how the Trust reacted to the women’s concerns, and questions will surely be asked about why this matter has dragged on for so long. Bethany insists that for the best part of a year they were ‘stonewalled, dismissed, made to feel that we just didn’t matter’. She adds: ‘All that was coming back was ‘inclusivity’. A particular low was when one HR manager said she wouldn’t have a problem undressing in front of a man, ‘because she was ex-Forces.”
All accuse the Trust of heavy-handedness. There was a warning that speaking publicly about the case ‘would not be helpful’. Some developments were unnecessarily confrontational. The nurses turned up for work one day, to find a notice taped on the changing room door indicating it was now ‘inclusive’.
They saw it as a slap-in-the-face confirmation that Rose’s rights trumped theirs.
A request that separate changing facilities be made available to Rose was rejected. Instead they were offered a small locker room – little more than a cupboard with one hook on the back of the door – to change in.
Rose has not tried to use this room but ‘that’s not the point,’ argues Bethany. ‘It’s the policy that’s wrong. It’s not about individual rooms.’
Lisa steps in: ‘It probably doesn’t sound like it, but none of us wish Rose ill,’ she says.
‘The fault here likes with the Trust, which has allowed this situation to happen. The common sense thing would have been to do what we asked for in the first place – create a third changing space for transgender people.’
She chats for a minute about the layout of the hospital, suggesting where this could be.
I ask about the size of the designated male changing room. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she says, surprised. ‘I’ve never been in it.’ Why would she?
