Today You Are You – My Transgender Child & My Destiny

Last night the kids and I watched Earth, a documentary about animals narrated by the bold, smooth, velvety voice of James Earl Jones. (Love him.) Ig you aren’t familiar with it, the movie followed a few groups of animals over the course of one year as they fight to survive in this world.

These breathtakingly beautiful images of our planet made my jaw drop. At first the kids balked when I chose this as our Friday Night Movie Night feature, but in the end they sat paralyzed (like me) jaw dropped open beholding the majesty. It was spectacular.

Before drifting to sleep the show kept creeping back into my consciousness, the images still so fresh in my mind. My thoughts kept returning on how the mother animals protected their young with such fierce determination. (I’m still trying to get over how the polar bear mothers don’t eat for five months, but still have the stamina to shepherd and teach her cubs. That’s love!)

Fortitude.

Or how the elephant mothers will leave the safety of their pack if their little ones can’t catch up with the rest. The selflessness. They will naturally sacrifice everything. Despite the dry sandstorms and impossible odds, she keeps leading her little one toward the hope of water.

Tenacity.

I loved how the adults would circle around the young ones when a predator approaches. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their child. They will endure the predator’s attack, the possibility of injury, pain and death for that child. Like the child belonged to the pack as much as the child belonged to the mother. They’ll risk anything to preserve the young, their hope for the future.

Perseverance.

Sometimes I wish that our society was more like the animal kingdom. I wish we could simply revert back to our natural instincts of protecting all of our children. Why don’t we get it that all children are our only hope for the future? It is not only our responsibility, it is our duty as human beings.

When I was pregnant with Hope I had lots of medical issues that caused a significant amount of inescapable pain. I struggled for quite a while with it. I did my fair share of moaning and groaning. It was tough. Then I found my mantra- fortitude, tenacity, perseverance. Every time I started thinking of what was happening to me I would say this mantra over and over to remind myself that it wasn’t just me anymore. I had to lift myself beyond my ego, beyond my body and go higher. With each incantation I was becoming a mother.

Now after all these years, I go back to my mantra when I lose sight of what is important. This life is fleeting, minutes passing by like the breeze. Am I leading by example so that my kids have a clear roadmap for life? Am I caring for other children the same way as I would hope another would care for my own? When I take a step back I see how similar we all are and my heart fills with a sense of gratitude and pride that nourishes another day.

I find myself singing an old familiar Beatles song and counting my blessings today.

It sums up just about everything that is in my heart and on the horizon.

We’ve got one shot to make it right today. Let’s choose love.

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

What happens when a transgender individual is brought into the legal system?

Since gender segregation is at the heart of the judicial system and transphobia is prevalent within the justice system, TG individuals are at a high risk of sexual abuse and exploitation. The first issue is where the individual is placed, with the gender they identify with or the gender they were born into. Neither group is safe. Reports show that not only are the prisoners predators, but the prison staff have sexual predators in a very powerful position. Picture being a TG individual and being pulled over by a police officer. You may have a license with your legally changed name, but the wrong gender marker. How should you respond to the officer’s questions? What should you do if you feel like the officer is treating you inappropriately? What is your best legal resource? The situation looks bleak so what can we do to help?

Last week I met with a representative of the Transformative Justice Law Project of Illinois (TJLP), an organization comprised of radical lawyers, social workers, activists and community organizers who are deeply committed to prison abolition, transformative justice, and gender self- determination. (That’s how they describe themselves. My best explanation is that they are tireless advocates for individuals having issues with the legal system.) Amazing organization doing really good work.

TJLP provides legal services, educational materials & training, and support. Learn more at http://www.tjlp.org They can help you understand your rights within the law, help you change your name legally and assist with any legal matters.

My thanks to TJLP for their hard work!

I just received this blast from TYFA…

I wanted you all to be among the first to know that the TYRA BANKS SHOW will be featuring several of our TYFA families on their show this month. Here are the details I have:

January 27, 2010
4PM Eastern Time
CW Network
“We’re 7 and 8 years old and we know we are transgender”

__________________________________________________________________________

*I have never watched a Tyra show before and have no idea of the format or the outcome of this television event; however, I am grateful that they are addressing transgender youth and hope they reflect the lives of these children and our families in an accurate and meaningful way.

Best- Jen

Sometimes help comes in the most unlikely of places. I found myself in a quandary the other night, stuck between the two worlds that pull and tug at me, unable to feel comfortable in either space.

I arrived early for an event that I wanted to attend for some time. Thirty minutes early is my standard for things. Don’t ask me why. I hate to wait so it seems silly to arrive early for things, only to sit and wait for everyone else. Nevertheless, I cooked up some scheme in my head. I’d eat dinner and catch up on work. It sounded like a good plan at the time.

Every month I planned on attending this meeting, but something always got in the way.  A school meeting was the same night. No babysitter for another. The excuses go on and on. This month was my month. Finally I would do something for myself that didn’t have anything to do with LGBT issues. I’d return to a former peer group that shared my same interests. Interests I had before gender became such a prominent player in our household. I thought I’d be more excited as the time drew near, but as the start time came and went I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay put. I didn’t want to walk in at all.

Sometimes I feel lost in the haziness of my roles as mother, advocate, educator, writer, woman. Where does one mission end and the other begin? Where do I fit in?

Many acquaintances attending the event do not know my life has changed in any way. Most do not know that I am an involved advocate in the LGBT community. Very few know that my child is transgender. Just as I think of their lives the same as I saw time last (married to the same person, same job, same home) they still think of my life as it was and that hurts. How do I answer when they ask how “the boys” are? How can I possibly tell the truth during small talk in a mixed group and yet, how can I lie? What do I do when parents of my daughter’s school friends are standing behind me and I have old friends who ask about my two sons?

I am tongue-tied, a deer in the headlights whenever the two worlds collide. It must look comical, or perhaps painful. During a casual conversation I mentioned I was writing a book, but couldn’t give an answer when asked what it was about. I stammered, paused, sweat like bullets. As I thought about what I should say I played the scenarios out in my head. Someone from my daughter’s school overhears and puts two and two together and she is outed. Someone from my old life finds out and outs us. The panic is overwhelming, intoxicating. I feel trapped with a bright white light pointed in my face like an interrogation. The truth resting somewhere behind what is blinding my eyes and preventing my speech.

Lost, I ventured out of the event to catch a breath. A stranger (who witnessed my mild panic attack when asked about the book) sat down next to me and just talked to me. I clung to that kindness as if it was a Coast Guard rescue from icy waters and somehow felt compelled to tell the truth about my life. This person didn’t care who I was or what I was going through. They just listened. I talked about my fear that not only that my daughter could be outed but that people would avoid me if they knew. Until that moment I never thought about how much it hurt to have family and friends look at me like I was a freak. The pain still buried in my heart of the people who turned away from me in my darkest hours.

Talking to this stranger released something that I needed to let go of. Something that even my support group couldn’t tap into. It wasn’t easy. I stumbled, started and stopped. Apologized and got a little choked up. But I said it out loud. On my terms, not in response to someone searching for my answers. I did it. And it felt good.

Last week I found this sign in the most unlikely of places and couldn’t resist. I raced to the cashier as if someone were chasing me and no sooner had I walked in the door I hung it on the wall in the busiest area of the house.

Hope.

Lately I’ve been on this design frenzy searching for ways to make us feel cozier, more relaxed, more secure in this new house. Put our mark on it. Make it our own. And little by little it starts to resemble us with a small change here and there and it feels easier to live.

Hope.

Last night we had much-loved friends over and my heart swelled with the feeling of love and security. Of purpose and stability. Of acceptance and generosity. For so much talk about what’s wrong in the world, I clearly know what is right. And I’ll hang on to this feeling for a really long time.

I’m sure by now everyone has seen the David Letterman clip where he announces that President Obama appointed (the first transgender person) Amanda Simpson to his cabinet and his announcer acts as if he is going to be sick and runs off screaming “Amanda used to be a dude?” Afterward Letterman chuckles.

So what type of message does this communicate to the average viewer? That transgender people are funny? That a person should react (to the knowledge that a person is transgender) with disgust? That transgender persons do not deserve the same amount of respect as other people? Would he have done the same joke if the appointee had a birth defect? Was ill? Or was another ethnicity?

No, making fun of those groups would be disrespectful. It would cross the lines of decency. It would be met with outrage and boycotts, people demanding an apology, people boycotting, right? Still, he chose to cross those lines with transgender. Why? Because he thought no one would react. Maybe he actually thought it was funny? No matter what the reason, we need to use our voices and our remotes to speak up for the transgender community. I am boycotting Letterman, apology or not.

Will this change the world? Nope. But it is my small way of taking a stand for something I believe in. The joke was unacceptable. It was disrespectful, crossed the lines of decency and will be met with outrage and boycotts. Who will join me?

Some say the best is yet to come, but I think right here and now is just fine. Despite our holidays not looking picture perfect from an outsider’s perspective, it was the most fulfilling vacation I can remember. I think we laughed more this time around. And I am absolutely sure we loved more than we ever did. Maybe this year we clued into the fact that life is short and the best gift we could ever give (and get) is love.

This season felt surrounded by acceptance. I have to admit I didn’t know what to expect when we decided to spend Christmas on the East Coast with my in-laws instead of celebrating with my family in the Midwest. At first it felt like we were hiding away from the members of my family that still don’t understand or accept Hope’s gender transition, but my feelings changed when I saw how excited my kids were about the switch.

Our family on the East Coast embraced Hope despite their rigid cultural background and even more strict gender roles. Still, they open their arms wide to accept us for exactly who we are- imperfect, fragile, different.

It felt like entering a witness protection program being there even though I noticed some signs of our past life here and there. One day I caught Hope running her finger along the top of a beautiful 8 x 10 picture frame that displayed a photo of her when she was a little boy. I stopped in the doorway wondering if she would ask for the picture to be taken down like she has at my mother’s house. She stopped, stared for a while and then just gracefully dropped her finger to her side and skipped away. I wiped the tears that trailed down my cheek and slid along my neck.

Only once during our visit did we sit in the same room as these pictures and ironically the subject of conversation turned to the long line of family members that have the same name. The tradition of their family is for the first born boy to have his grandfather’s name so that the family name is preserved throughout history. I watched my father-in-law’s face as he talked about the names so proud and yet so soft. It seemed like any other conversation and then drifted into another and another. No one mentioned the fact that Hope is actually her grandfather’s namesake, legally reflecting his name on her birth certificate, but I felt it hover above us and then drift off like a candle that had been blown out.

Even after we returned home, I longed for the security we have there. The feeling I have searched for my entire life. This year I didn’t get a single wrapped gift, but I did get the best present I have ever received.

Tonight I jerked awake from a sound sleep as if someone shook me. After getting over my initial shock that it was only 1am, I tried to settle back into my dreamy slumber. Instead I played out a number of scenarios in my head where I could have made a different decision. This is a weird, hazy time for me where I contemplate why I bought a bar height table when the kids were little, why I discontinued a friendship with a particular person or why I left my last job? As I recount my failures and misgivings my head becomes less foggy and more alert as if there was a lesson in my early morning madness.

Struggling not to lose that warm, snuggly feeling that assures me that I WILL fall back asleep, I soothe my worried mind by telling myself that my choices brought me to this beautiful place in my life so they must have all been part of a larger destiny, a grand plan. Telling myself over and over again that I needn’t beat myself up did not make me any less sleepy. If anything, it made me more focused.

As I settled back in my bed, shifting into the “sure thing” sleeping position, I thought about the last scene in the movie Harold & Maude where that fantastic song by Cat Stevens plays in the background. Maude takes her sleeping pills, as planned and says goodbye on her birthday. Trouble, oh trouble set me free, I have seen your face and it’s too much for me today… Harold realizes what she has done and calls for help… I’m beat, I’m torn, Shattered and tossed and worn, too shocking to see, too shocking to see… Harold is faced with the truth and decides his next step… Trouble, oh trouble move from me, I have paid my debt so won’t you leave me in my misery… his black Jaguar flies off a cliff and he’s left standing.

I’m letting my burden sail just like that car speeding off the edge. Letting it go. Saying goodbye and dancing away.