Halloween gender benders

When a new family joins our list-serve through TYFA, they usually start by introducing their stories. Some lurk for months reading others' postings, unsure of themselves, their situations, their children. Eventually there will be a story. Inevitably the story will involve Halloween, especially the families with trans-identified girls. Their stories will differ from those of your other children.



Halloween to my birth sons. At four: Although Aiden often attended preschool donning tiger ears and a bat cape, come Halloween he'd be terrified. He did not want to parade around school on display. One year I finally convinced him to wear a shirt and matching pants with a firetruck on the front. I made an axe out of cardboard and painted it black. He would be a fireman. Later we parents sat and watched the parade go by. Aiden straggled in, teary-eyed with black axe paint smudged on his cheeks. I snatched him up and we sat and watched his classmates march around. Another year Ted, maybe 7 at the time, decided to be a sink. This was stressful because although he had the concept down, he had no idea how to implement the costume. Somehow we rigged together some cardboard, tape, and pipes to make a plausible sink. Meanwhile, Kyle won funniest costume two years in a row at the Boy Scouts Halloween party, causing his twin, who didn't win any prize, to dissolve into tears. Competition can be fierce between the two of them.

Halloween to me transgender child. Fear of making a spectacle? Complicated costumes to construct? Competition? None of the above. A transgender child who has not transitioned, who may not even be supported in his or her household, may look forward to Halloween with sheer joy. Why? A transgender boy may pass as a tomboy throughout the year, but can really fulfill his more macho side in a Darth Vader or Spiderman costume. A transgender girl will invariably want to be a princess or a pop star like Hannah Montana. For many of us Halloween is a time when once a year we can step outside ourselves, try on new persona. Transgender children who have not transitioned can once a year be themselves. Read that carefully. Once a year they can be themselves. If their parents will allow it.

In our case, our first Halloween as a family before she transitioned, when she was still L, he asked to be a princess at the school parade. I spoke with the guidance counselor, who well-intentioned, discouraged it. She informed me that the toughest popular boys might sometimes dress as a cheerleader or princess, and everybody thought it was really funny. They would all laugh with him. If an effeminate boy did the same? He would be ridiculed, his classmates would laugh at him. I heeded  her misguided advice, refusing to allow L to be a princess at school. I was probably relieved, too. It was a situation I wasn't ready to deal with, although L surely was. Then, in my confusion, I refused L's second choice too, a bunny, on the grounds that it was too cute and also feminine. Finally L went as a magician.

Apparently I was not a total tyrant, because I let L go as a princess door-to-door in the evening. A week before Halloween we'd been driving around when I saw a sign on somebody's lawn: free costumes. Hanging from a tree was one lavender princess dress conveniently in L's size. Just as when later, his aunt sent money and I let L splurge on anything he wanted, I somehow felt free from blame, a loophole you might say, that would allow me to permit the costume if acquired this way. Later I went to the costume store to pick out a black wig, a bob with bangs, which matched L's hair and skin tone, and would look realistic. You could see L's disappointment when I came home. He had hoped for a long blond wig like their favorite pop stars. Still, when I saw L looking into the mirror with the wig on, make up and the fancy dress, I knew he wasn't evaluating a costume. L was peering at himself, sweeping bangs to the side, intently examining his face. Seeing her real self.

He ran with glee from door to door calling "Trick or treat!" and filling his bag with candy. The wig grew scratchy, though, so he pulled it off to reveal the buzz cut, two months grown out, that he'd come from China with. With that short hair and beautiful made up features he looked like some avant garde French model.

One woman answered the door at his knock and studied us. "Boy or girl?" she asked.

"We don't know yet."

"So brave," she whispered.