Last week, C went off on a spiritual pilgrimage with her church friends. Nine days in the Alaska wilderness to reflect, bond as a community and deepen in their spiritual growth. They took a trip around this time last year and it wasn't a great experience for her. She was rooming with the boys, she hadn't had her legal name change yet, there was a girl on the trip desperate for attention who attached herself to C and drained all her energy. This had to be a better trip!
And it was. We saw pictures of her with glaciers, she FaceTimed me to show me the eagle sitting on the rock beside her, she got to see a breaching whale. Trip of a lifetime.
C's big concern on this trip was the TSA scanners. Because she now has a legal name change and she is presenting fully female, we knew the scanners would clock her "anomaly," genitalia do not match their presentation and are targets for further screening by the TSA. We looked up the laws, we knew the TSA policy, we provided copies of the policies to all the adult leaders and talked through possible scenarios with them. The two male chaperones, including our rector, were willing to go through the scanner first and then ask the TSA agent to leave it on the male setting for the trans teen coming through next. The female leaders agreed to come through next to be available to monitor any pat down that may be required. C was nervous but she felt prepared.
Happily, on her way to Alaska, she managed to have a TSA pre-check ticket so none of this was necessary. She just went through a normal x-ray machine. Coming back she wasn't so lucky. My heart sank when I got her text:
I had to have a pat down.
Are you ok?
I don't know.
She wasn't ok. Throughout the rest of her all day journey home, I was able to talk her through quiet meditation and breathing, remind her that she was with a group of teens and adults who love and accept her exactly as she is, that she did nothing wrong and that we are so proud of her strength and courage. Thank god for airplane wifi!
I was able to text the leaders on the trip with her to let them know what the situation was. They assured her that they were there to help her, that she'd done nothing wrong and that they supported her. But this was so all-consuming. Not a simple pat down like most people get. This was, in her mind, at least, disgust for her. This was public shaming for the body she was born with. She felt every eye in the airport burning holes through her clothes trying to see what this freak looked like under her protective covering.
I was so proud of her classmates who her wrapped her in hugs and walked with her to talk through her emotions. These kids who understood that this was not only a physical violation, but also an intrusion in to the peace she's made with her body these last few months. She had come so far and one invasive pat down had the power to make all those dysphoric thoughts come rushing back with a vengeance.
Pardon my french but dysphoria is a fucker.