When the going gets tough, transkids keep going. What choice do they have? A transboy we met at the Philadelphia Trans-Health Conference, we'll call him Charlie, had some sad tidings. He was invited to a friend's birthday party. Charlie's mom takes the approach to tell parents of friends of her son that he's trans, and so had a talk with the friend's mom. In this case I'm a proponent of "don't ask don't tell," or none of your damn business! Still, there's no manual and we each choose our own paths.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
...the next minute I feel the opposite. Spectrum, Animal Liberation OrchestraWhen I'm not over it, it's often because of the responses I get from others. These days they are few and far between, but occasionally a comment comes from left field. I understand that people don't always get it. Insofar as that is the case, we, as experienced parents have the opportunity to educate and by doing so, make the world a safer place. Sometimes I do just that. Other times I am miffed. Who are these people questioning a proscribed diagnosis? When I tell others my child is transgender (which I rarely do anymore) they think that means I'm inviting debate, or worse, opening myself up for the possibility that my child is actually not transgender. (By the way, Google speller still thinks "transgender" is not a word.)
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
When Grandpa Pete, then known as Rudolph Peterson, or just Pete, met the sparkling Marie on a steamer en route to Sweden, he was swept off his feet. Literally. In grappling for a ploy to attract her attention, a headstand sealed their fate. After a whirlwind romance they headed back to Illinois where Pete became an engineer and Marie held extravagant parties and acted in plays. They eventually sired two children, one of whom is my mother-in-law.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Janet has a mild form of post traumatic stress disorder. Why goes back to her early days in the social welfare institute in China and is another post. Suffice it to say we often have to escort her upstairs to, say, get a brush or a nail file, if everybody else is downstairs. We have to sit with her while she takes a bath. If she sees one TV ad of a scary movie, she's camping out in Mom and Dad's room that night. Interestingly, her fears are focused on being inside, she has no fear of walking outside at night, or being out alone anywhere outside the house.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
As we waited for the adoption of our son, L, we were getting hints that he might be a different sort of child. So many things about him seemed so feminine, so my sister, a therapist, sent me emails from various lesbian and trans friends. One said:
Assuming that this child fits the Harry Benjamin classification of a 'primary transexual' then moving to the USA would afford her a tremendous opportunity to start a new life in a role that is far more in conformance with who she feels she is. It would be a pity to waste that opportunity.