Showing posts with label trans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trans. Show all posts

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Mentored by My Trans Kids

A child with a shaved head wearing a fuzzy blue parka. On the zipper of the parka is a heart shaped rainbow key chain that reads: Queer A F

     The other day someone referred to me as a trans-rights activist. I was struck by it because the label really doesn't fit. I can't be an activist, I don't do anything. Mostly, I'm an advocate for my kids. I write blog posts. I talk about them on podcasts. I tweet. A lot. I take little direct action other than signing petitions and voting. None of that makes me an activist. Being an activist means occasionally being a leader. I'm not a leader. I can't be a leader in the fight for transgender rights because I am not transgender. Leadership has to come from within. I'm not an activist, I'm an ally. Even then, my ally-ship starts with my kids and extends out from there. Being an ally, in the philosophy I follow, means being ready to do what is asked and amplifying the message chosen by the real leaders of the movement. It's being ready to respond when called upon to act, not to have a hand in deciding what those actions are. I do my best to listen to what transgender people say about themselves and to what they want me to say about them. Then I do my best to bring that message with me. That's what being an ally means to me.

    My kids on the other hand, are leaders. Not on a large scale, but they are leaders. Each has taken up advocating for expanded all gender bathrooms at their schools. Lou did it with a petition. Ryu brought the issue to us and helped us communicate with the administration. My kids are happy to talk to anyone who will listen about who they are and what they want from society. I look forward to watching what they accomplish as they get older and start to find their audiences and avenues for engagement. Most of all, right now my kids are leaders and mentors to me. I look to them for guidance on what trans kids want. I look to them when wondering what I should say about a given issue. I use other sources as well, but the kids are right there with me everyday. So I listen to them. 

    Something they don't know, at least not as well as I do, is how much they've been mentoring me through how they live. I've never questioned my gender. Not in any real sense since I was very young, but I do have a memory it and I sometimes wonder who I'd be if I'd grown up now instead of then. I'll relate an anecdote that won't capture the whole of that feeling, but it's the best I can do 40+ years later. When I was around three years old, I had a very strong desire to be a glamorous woman in a ball gown like Vanna White. I didn't feel like I was the wrong gender. It wasn't something I thought about most of the time. But in very quiet moments, when I was alone, I would think about becoming a glamorous lady. I had one of those tool bench play set with the big, chunky, plastic screws and bolts. I hid the multi-colored hardware behind my bed and after I was tucked in, I would put them on the ends of my fingers to pretend I had long painted nails. 

A pair of legs wearing knee length bright yellow socks and white sneakers
    I don't know how long I carried on with that. Thinking back as an adult, I can see that I only did these things when I was assuredly alone because I knew it wasn't acceptable. For the rest of my childhood, I wanted to express myself and engage in activities coded as feminine. In gymnastics, I wanted to do floor routines and the uneven bars. Not because they were for girls, but because they seemed the most fun. I didn't want to wear "girls" clothes, but I did want to accessorize and modify my clothes in ways that only girls were allowed to do. I liked wearing long socks up to my knees. I kept wishing I could paint my nails until about third grade. Still, I always felt comfortable as a cis male. I just didn't want to be the kind of cis male I was allowed to be.    

Berto, a 45 year old man wearing a pink shirt and showing off matching pink nails. He is smiling.
    
    I don't know exactly what my kids feel about their gender. All I have are the clues and artifacts they can express to me using something as imperfect as language. I wonder if what I felt then is at all similar to what they feel now. I wonder who I'd be if I were growing up now, in an environment where I could wear what I want, how I want and not be told, no. My kids are mentors to me. They have no fear expressing themselves through clothes, activities or words. Watching them has nudged me to accept and indulge in some of the things I've always wanted, but was too afraid try. It's still hard, but I sometimes paint my nails. I wear long socks up my knees just for the feel of it and because I like how my calves look. If I could still grow hair, I'd probably grow it out long and have all kinds of fun with it like I did in high school, when I could get away with it just being a punk-grunge, skater thing. 


So yeah, I'm not a trans-rights activist. I'm not leader. Very much the opposite. I'm a follower, and I'm letting my kids lead the way.

Sunday, July 12, 2020

Five People, Four Sets of Pronouns: Introducing the IDL Podcast



Hello Friends,

Today's post is a short one because I'm hoping you'll give a listen to my first ever podcast episode. It's an interesting one, if for no other reason than because Buddy decides it's time to start using their real name. Many of you have gotten to know me in real life, or in closer online conversations and friendships and know who the kids are. Even for others, the identities of my kids is at best, a loosely guarded secret. After all, once you start doing TV interviews the jig is pretty much up. Still, I have tried to afford them some shred of anonymity so that at least their peers won't find them through lazy googling. Then they signed their names on the information for the protest they organized and things have progressed from there. 

One of the other tipping points, and the reason I decided now was a good time to launch the podcast is that Buddy recently came to us with big news. They came out as being non-binary. It was an emotional night for us, many tears were shed in relief that Buddy was finally living out as the person they really are. As I walked Buddy to bed at the end of the evening, they looked at me and said, "Well this is blog post."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. Did Buddy want it to be, or not? Did I want to write about this? I understood the comment, I write about these kinds of things. But for this, it felt like it wasn't my story to tell. As the kids grow up, they take more ownership of their identities in the world. They'll tell me to post or not post pictures I take. I've started asking them about what I can write about, and what they'd rather keep in the family. I knew I wanted Buddy's story out there. I thought it was important, not just for us, but maybe in the wider conversation on trans issues and the emergence of more trans youths. Still, I didn't feel like it was something for me to write about. Buddy's 11, they can tell this story better than I can. So I asked the kids if they wanted to do it as an interview so they could tell their stories in their own words. They both agreed, and I can't imagine a better way to launch a podcast than to talk to these two wonderful kids about a topic this personal. 

Oh, the title of this post! Right. Buddy is using they/them pronouns. Yo has decided to use xe/xir like Lou. Though we're not sure of Yo's motivation, we're going with it. T and I are using our cis gender pronouns. So we now have five people using four sets of pronouns. We're constantly correcting each other since we're all still getting used to Buddy and Yo's. It feels right. Everyone is happy. 

Thank you as always for reading, and I hope you'll give this a listen.

Saturday, November 17, 2018

When a Loss is a Gain (or Why I'm Relieved my Fundamentalist Family Disowned Me)



I started writing this post almost three years ago. At first it was about how my cousin had gone off the deep end of religious fundamentalism. The thing is, I couldn't figure out exactly why I was writing it. I wasn't sure I had a larger point beyond, "Hey look, isn't this weird?" Somehow, even though it was an important topic to me, I couldn't figure out how it said anything about the larger world.

My cousin used to be a partier. Addiction and recklessness run in our family so he seemed perfectly normal to me. At some point, he decided to make changes. He went into recovery. He tried to eat better. He moved way out of the city, beyond the suburbs to a small rural town. He moved away from his old haunts and his old influences. But he was still himself. He was still fun and engaging and loving. If anything, he was more fun because he didn't do the irrational things he used to do when he was drinking. He also started becoming more religious.

I'm not against religion. I've become more religious over the last decade as well. I was confirmed into the same faith as my wife. My children were baptized. I had a brief tenure helping teach Sunday School. I find a lot of wisdom in the sermons. They've helped me learn to forgive and how to come to terms with things that have happened in my life. I believe that religion, like youth sports, can be a really positive thing even though it's been warped and misused for a long time. We chose my cousin and his wife as God parents for my middle child, even though their brand of Christianity was a little more hard core than ours. We felt that might be a positive. They would present a different perspective, and maybe we'd learn something.

But as time went on, my cousin abdicated more and more of his personal agency to the church. He'd long been a liberal, and claimed he still was. He made this claim even as he voted against same sex marriage and refused to discuss the topic. He began to see any disagreement as an attack on his faith. I admit, I did challenge his views on scripture at times. It wasn't typical internet atheist vs. believer head butting. My sect is liberal and teaches acceptance, forgiveness and love. My cousin's mega church teaches the things that fall more to the right of that. Still, I saw my conversations with him as exchanges between believers with slightly different approaches. My cousin lost the ability to have a conversation about these things. He followed the teachings of his pastor without question. When I asked him why he'd become so unwilling to entertain another view he'd answer with "What makes you think you know more than the pastor?" or "It's not for me to question, I am simply supposed to follow." It was astounding to see this man who saw himself as a leader in his family and his community become so blindly dogmatic. After a while I unfollowed him on social media, still connected but muted and didn't discuss scripture with him at all.

The final straw came early in the 2016 election season. He quickly became a hard core Bernie Bro, the kind who called Hillary Clinton a cunt, claimed that her and Trump were exactly the same and vowed not to vote at all if Bernie wasn't the candidate. The strained relationship between our family and his ruptured completely. He got involved in a Clinton-Sanders political spat with my wife that ended with one of them blocking the other. The final straw was when he posted a junk science link by a disgraced psychiatrist "proving" that trans people are mentally ill. He posted the link with a triumphant and emphatic "I knew it! I told you so!" and something about supporting conversion therapy. In the comments, I posted links to the many professionals and research refuting these ideas. He again railed at me for questioning his faith.

"Primo, I'm not questioning your faith," I replied. "I stopped trying that a long time ago. I promise I won't question your faith. I am questioning your science. If you had posted that God said this, I would have kept scrolling. You posted this claiming that science had proven something you had long hoped was true. You brought this into my realm. So I am definitely going to present the research that counters this so called study."

That was it. He disconnected from me on all platforms and I haven't heard from him since. It was sad. It was frustrating. I love my cousin and I remember the man he used to be. I was also a little relieved that he wouldn't have a chance to influence his God child anymore. If that were the end, this post would probably still be languishing as a draft.


I didn't know a lot of trans people growing up. Being from Berkeley I was pretty solid on LGBQ issues by the time I graduated from high school, but trans people still seemed peculiar to me. At the end of college I had at least learned that my attitudes towards trans people, while not outright discriminatory, were not what they should be. So I decided to fake it 'til made it. I decided to publicly support trans people on whatever they wanted regardless of how I felt about it. In 2015 the trans bathroom issue made me uneasy, but I found myself debating one of my students and taking the pro-trans people side. By the time we got to 2017 I felt like I had finally come around in mind and spirit.

I was just in time.


In January I wrote about my six-year-old "coming out as liking blue." At the time, I acknowledged that it was an odd way of looking at the kid's announcement.
"I know, maybe that's an extreme way of describing it, and yes, it's supposed to be funny. I'm sorry, I hope it's not offensive, but the way she talked about it, that's how it seemed to be for her. At the ripe old age of almost-seven, she talked about how she had always liked blue, but for some reason when she got to day care she just let everyone tell her to like pink. 'So I just went along with it. I don't know why, I wanted to tell them I really liked blue, but I felt like I couldn't. Then I started telling everyone that I liked pink. I don't know why. But now I tell people about what I really I like, and I don't care what they think."
I didn't know at the time that my child was practicing. Maybe they didn't know it either. About a month after I wrote that, Lou told us that they were no longer "she," they were "they." It was a surprise. I went through a lot of thoughts and emotions. My newfound acceptance of trans people was challenged. It's easy to support other people, it's different when it's your child. It probably shouldn't be, but it was for me. I had to fight against myself. I had to go through a similar process as I'd gone through the previous few years, but I had to do it a lot faster. I hoped it was phase though I never admitted that to anyone other than my wife. I wondered if this was the result of society making being trans seem cool. I realize how this sounds.

The calculus was simple. I've known too many gay and lesbian people and read too many stories of traumatic LGBTQ childhoods to not see what I had to do. The story is almost always, "I've known who I was since I was three-years-old." followed by whatever trials came with being able to finally come out and live as the person they always knew they were. As a parent, I often look at what my kids do and ask, "What's the risk?" In this case I had ask what would be the risk in accepting what Lou was telling us, or denying it. If it was a phase, the risk was that they would feel pigeonholed into having to keep this up as their identity within the family, like being "the smart one" or "the funny one" or "the loser." (In my family I somehow ended up being both "the smart one" and "the loser," and I've lived up to both at different times.) If I denied it the risk was raising a severely damaged trans person who told their friends, "My dad never accepted me and it was really hard on me." That risk was too great, I'm already sure to traumatize my kids in some other way, avoiding the obvious missteps is an easy choice. It was clear that I had to swallow hard, look to my wife for support and try to live my values.


Since then, Lou has identified as gender fluid. I use "they" in writing because it's the most true pronoun over time. In real life, Lou has three post it notes that are changed out each morning. Each has he/him, she/her or they/them printed on the face and we use that so we know which pronouns to use that day. It's been surprisingly easy. The anxiety I had during the first few weeks has faded. It's helped that Lou's teacher and classmates have been supportive. It's helped that Lou isn't the first trans kid at their school, or at our church. The new reality of Lou's identity has even produced some typical toddler moments for Yo who spent months saying things like, "Daddy, Lou said they/them won't share with me!" Now it's become normal for us.


I still think about my cousin. I still miss who he was. Maybe I hadn't been thinking of him for a while because it wasn't until yesterday that the real impact of his disowning me became clear. There's no way he'd have accepted Lou for who they are. Maybe there's some small chance that knowing a trans person, loving a trans person would have brought him around, but this isn't a Hallmark movie of the week. I think it's far more likely that he would have made bad jokes, or worse, direct refutations of Lou's identity. The split we had over trans rights would have come at some point no matter what. Instead of losing him over "politics" I would have lost him over respecting and loving a child he swore before God to nurture and protect, not knowing that the protection the child would need is from people like him.