It's been awhile since I got you all up. I have been planning to update you about C's spiral in to major depression last fall, her self harm, her new psychiatrist and magic new medication that has turned our lives around. I have been planning to tell you all about our trip to the west to meet the surgeon who will perform C's gender confirmation surgery next spring. And I was planning on sharing all the thoughtful messages I received on my now traditional Transgender Day of Visibility Facebook discussion. But something happened that I really want to zero in on.
On Transgender Day of Visibility, when I invited everyone to ask questions openly on my Facebook page, I received a private message about C. I assumed it might be something about C's surgery or medications - something the sender may have been aware was a sensitive topic and wanted to protect my right read the question before making it public. And, it was, in fact something the sender wanted to give me the chance to answer or not, but holy hell, it was not sent privately to protect me or C.
This question could have been sent in general terms, but instead, it was a very personal, accusatory message. I will post the question here, removing all identifying details, and let you judge for yourself: "I’ve started and deleted a thousand posts and just don’t feel good about putting this on your feed. If you don’t feel good about answering me, I respect that. But here’s my question: why didn’t you or [the church] tell parents about C's transition before the [youth] trip? X can be tremendously insular... he didn’t see or have any idea about C before the trip. But he called us as soon as the group landed and was really confused and shocked. I was, too. And I was concerned for him, a little pissed that I was having to learn this and explain to him by phone, and really worried C. I think and hope that X was sensitive, kind and respectful - but I feel that I should have had the opportunity to discuss the situation and our family values and expectations before hand. I was a little concerned about how my kid responded and terrified about how other kids responded. Honestly, H, I’m not sure if I’m even asking a question you can answer without the benefit of perfect 20/20 hindsight. I’m not sure if it’s fair that I care about my son’s confusion and uncertainty given the journey C has been on. But this has weighed on me for years and seeing your post today, I felt compelled to own up to it. None of us gets a guidebook. But should we have one at [the church] or in the Diocese about how to communicate to parents about transgender minor children, particularly if there is a retreat or camping experience where kids are usually divided by their gender assigned at birth coming up?"
On the surface, to those who don't live this journey, it may seem like an innocuous enough message. But, man, is it full of microaggressions. I read this message at 11:30pm as I lay in bed next to my sleeping husband. I saw that I had a message from a parishioner and, as part of my job is pastoral care, I wanted to make sure everything was ok with her before I went to sleep. Instead, I was hit with a virtual plank upside of my head. I lay away, literally for hours, stewing. I could not sleep all night, replaying the message over and over again in my head. Constructing possible answers. Imagining how a conversation with this individual would go.
The thing that struck me more than anything was that this message was from the last person I would have expected. I thought this woman was welcoming and accepting. I had felt a tension from her - which I had mentioned to my co-workers previously - for years. Since I could never put a finger on it, I put it down to personality differences. But now I could see a motivation for it. I rewound every interaction I'd had with her over the three years since the trip she referenced. THREE YEARS she'd held on to this question. Three years she'd seen me and spoken with me week in and week out, never once mentioning her concerns to me or anyone in charge of the youth program. The only explanation I can find, is because she knew it was wrong. So, if she knew it was wrong, why didn't she use the intervening years to dig in to why this bothered her? Why didn't she take the time to educate herself and learn more?
When I got up in the morning, my mind was still racing and I poured my thoughts on to the page. I let it all out - the hurt, the rage, the incredulity. I knew I couldn't send that response to her, but I had to get it out. I needed to get the "ick" out before I could even begin to be civil. I mulled it over with coworkers who know me and the sender, as well as the kids involved. I spoke with parents of other trans kids for their perspectives. I wrote and re-wrote my response. I tried so hard to take the emotion out of my reply and make it professional. But I couldn't. And in the end, I decided I shouldn't. The sender needed to know that, even if her message was sent with best of intentions, it was no okay. After approximately 4,375 drafts, this is what I eventually sent. "I’m sorry for the delay in responding to you. If I’m honest, I’m finding it hard to balance my mama bear instincts with professionalism and grace for you. While I’m certain it was not your intention, your message was hurtful for a multitude of reasons and I want to address all of that honestly so that you can learn from this. After all, that is the whole point of my Transgender Day of Visibility posts each year. But, it needs to be clear that I am responding as a parent, not an employee of [the church]. This issue is fraught with emotion for me and I cannot pretend to be emotionless for the sake of my job. All of this is my perception as a parent who has had to defend my child fiercely from bigotry and ignorance more times than you can imagine. It is in response to how your words are received with a history of the never-ending suggestion that there is something unnatural about my child – again, whether that is your intention or not.
When you sent me a message privately, rather than putting it out in the open, as invited to do, I hear you saying that you feel guilty for asking the question. I hear you saying that you and/or your son are not comfortable with trans people and you don’t want other people to know that. You don’t want others on social media seeing where your true feelings lie. I hear you asking me for forgiveness. As if you want me to say “It’s ok that you’re so uncomfortable. If I had warned you, you wouldn’t feel this way. It’s my fault you’ve had a hard time.”
You have a privileged place in society: white, middle class, well-educated, cis-gender, heterosexual female. This message gives the impression that, as such, you are accustomed to having the information to understand the world around you. You centered yourself in my daughter’s story. I hear you asking why I didn’t frame my child’s experience for you on your terms. I hear you saying you should have had control over your child’s world and I prevented you from having that with the inconvenience of my child’s coming out. This was never my story to tell, and certainly not yours by rights.
Your message tells me your son doesn’t pay attention to the people around him. He wasn’t paying attention on the day when C came out to all her classmates, including M, a month or more before the trip. I hear you telling me it’s ok that he had no idea she was using a new name for weeks in his presence because he doesn’t care enough about others, but he gets a pass as someone who is “insular.”
The [class] curriculum contains an entire lesson about LGBTQ+ people. [The church] offered a fantastic LGBTQ+ class to youth during the Sexuality and Culture class, and for adults in the choir room at 10:00am on a Sunday morning, well before C came out to us. I hear you saying that because your son didn’t attend the classes and your family chose not to make this a topic of discussion in your home before C’s coming out, you were unprepared, and I owe you an explanation for your lack of preparation.
I hear you saying you expected me, and [the church], to put your family’s wishes above mine. Your child’s confusion due to his own lack of interest is more important than my child’s safety, dignity and respect. Coming out is a life altering experience – a huge shift in C’s life and our family’s life. You wish [the church] had put a spot light on her and treated her like something unnatural by informing all parents, rather than treating her with love, acceptance and kindness, as with every other child in the program, regardless of gender identity, sexual preference, or any other characteristic. I hear the suggestion that my child is more likely to sexually assault another child than yours is, otherwise there’d be no need to worry about her genitals and “warn” parents that hers may be atypical.
From my perspective, [the church] does not need a policy. Singling out a trans person is discrimination. Our baptismal covenant says to respect the dignity of every human being, and to ignore that by sending out a letter to all parents, would be contrary to what we profess. But if you have specific questions about a policy at [the church] and/or the Diocese, they should be directed to B who handles youth programs. While I appreciate [the church’s] handling of my daughter as “just another kid” and not an abnormality to be announced, I do not have any part in policy making in this regard.
My responsibility is to my family. Our world was completely consumed with doctors’ and counselors’ appointments, meetings with the school district and lawyers, and trying to keep our daughter alive. Your family’s needs did not play in to our plans. As parents we simply can’t prepare our kids for every eventuality in life. That’s the entire point of the class – [the] Journey to Adulthood. We have to send them out in to the world and trust that they will behave appropriately and respectfully when they are faced with things they don’t understand. We have to trust that they call us when they are upset and are caught off guard. I’m glad X called you when he “found out.” I’m sure you handled it the best way you could from afar, and perhaps that was difficult. But neither my family, nor [the church], owed you an explanation.
A large portion of my job as a parent of a gay, transgender child, is to be an advocate for her. I’m not giving you a pass. I believe your questions were not intentionally offensive, but what you said is not okay. It is not the job of the minority to inform and educate the majority. I hope my response to you is received in the spirit it is sent – with much pain but a genuine hope for dialog and a willingness to learn on your part. If you would like to learn, I am always happy to talk.
Here are some starting points for you if you really do want to work on this:
My personal blog, starting from the day C came out
www.Trans-Teen.com
Bishop Curry’s statement of lgbtq folks in military
https://www.episcopalchurch.org/posts/publicaffairs/episcopal-presiding-bishop-curry-i-am-compelled-oppose-these-actions-and-affirm
The National Episcopal Church’s stance on LGBTQ people
https://www.episcopalchurch.org/lgbtq-church
A Guide to Being a Good Ally
https://transequality.org/issues/resources/supporting-the-transgender-people-in-your-life-a-guide-to-being-a-good-ally
Understanding the Transgender Community
https://www.hrc.org/resources/understanding-the-transgender-community
The National Center for Transgender Equality
https://transequality.org/
The Intersex Society of North America
http://www.isna.org/
Gender Spectrum
https://www.genderspectrum.org/explore-topics/parenting-and-family/
PFLAG
https://pflag.org/glossary"
I worried about sending it, but I was not willing to roll over for the sake of someone else's feelings. My feelings and my daughter's reality are valid and should not be watered down. My concern quickly turned to resolve when I posted my intended response on a secret group for parents of trans kids, with a request for advice. What I received in return was post after post from parents thanking me for standing up for our kids.
"Bravo! That's a terrific reply! I love the way you truly reflect that we don't owe other people something that will make their lives easier in learning how to accept our children. That's their work that they need to do. Our kids are not a burden put upon them."
"I'm so impressed with your patience and your honest, eloquent reply. I will probably take notes and keep them handy for the next time I have the opportunity to stand up for my family while simultaneously educating the next person who feels entitled to relieve their own discomfort at my expense or the expense of my family."
"Wow. Thank you for sharing. That response is thoughtful and very well written. I automatically assume I need to explain/apologize for our family. Thank you for showing me I have no need to be sorry."
"empowering message. thx so much for sharing"
Dozens of messages from parents who are walking journeys similar to mine. We all want to stand up for our kids but so often we don't feel as if we can say what we really want. We are silenced by the conventions of "polite" society. We are made to feel guilty for our anger and frustration over other people's ignorance. We are told time and time again to hold our emotions at bay for the sake of teaching people who are not willing to do the work themselves. But these encouraging messages made even more determined to send my response. To show the truth of the matter and be the best possible ally for my daughter, and all of her trans niblings. I'm fighting this fight for my kiddo for as long as there is breath in my lungs. She's the only one I owe anything to. I am, after all, a mama bear.