Excuse Me, What Did You Say?

Exploring the implications of being a parent to a trans child in today’s world

This is the third column of three that helped me win the “Best Columnist” award at the 66th SoCal Journalism Awards from the LA Press Club. Here’s what the judges wrote: “Columnists have to engage a reader no matter the topic and also grant access to their own lives in ways that are not always easy. These columns, ranging from trans children telling their parents to Barbie through the eyes of an older woman to the awkward and hilarious family holidays, Ellen Snortland engaged and granted access with excellence. I finished reading her columns and felt like I had just talked to an old friend.”

One of my dearest friends was at an idyllic wooded meditation retreat in Pennsylvania when her phone rang.

“Hi, Mom. I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“I’m a girl.”

“Oh, OK. What?”

This is out of the mouth of what was, up to now, a very tall and large man. The reason for the timing of the phone call was to have my friend — as a mom — provide comfort and support for the newly minted female’s newlywed spouse. They’d only been married for four months in what seemed like a heterosexual marriage. She wanted her new bride to have a good ol’ mom talk because the bride could not speak to her family about it.

“Does that mean I’m a lesbian now?” the new spouse wondered. Over the years, my dear friend had her share of “rugs” pulled out from under her so that she could comfort her new daughter-in-law through the initial shock. Of course, my friend was also dealing with her own astonishment.

This year’s Pride month, plus the proliferation of anti-Trans legislation and associated violence, adds a new level of worry for the parents of Trans kids.

I have two other cherished friends whose children have come out to them as adults, so that’s three in my circle; all three families are super supportive and accepting. Putting myself in their shoes, I would initially drive myself bonkers with questions like, “How did I not know? Was I missing something obvious?” and the ever-popular, “What did I do wrong?” Answer: Nothing!

This may be a “duh” for many of my readers, and it bears repeating, over and over if necessary: cultures worldwide have more than two genders. In many of the over 500 nations of Indigenous Americans, their ancient understanding that there are more than two genders is honored and not considered outside of “normal.” Some refer to the non-binary tribal members as “Two Spirits.”

Even Pakistan, a country as conservative as you can get, granted equal rights to third-gender Trans folks in 2019. Many Muslim clerics were supportive of the legislation in the Pakistani Parliament. I never thought it’d be safer to be Trans in Pakistan than in some parts of the American South. This is not to say that being Trans is easy anywhere, but it’s good to know there are islands of safety where you’d least expect it.

One of my friends said the process was far from cut and dry but happened incrementally. For instance, his daughter, now his son, never wanted to wear dresses. He said, “Betty had beautiful long hair and large breasts. She shaved her head during her last year in high school. Her friends were girls, but she dated boys in the first year of college.” Now his pronouns are he/him. He dated a straight white cis woman and is now married to another Trans man. They plan to have a family… and both have intact wombs. If you overthink the situation, you may go cross-eyed.

Once you see that gender is a construct — an obvious one, at that — you can’t “unsee” it. As a mild example, I was what would now be called gender fluid; instead, I was called a “tomboy.” I was good at sports and resented not being allowed to be on boys' sports teams. However, I was such a good swimmer that I was placed on the boys swimming team because it wasn’t fair for me to compete with other girls. My parents didn’t think there was anything “off” about me because there wasn’t. I was simply myself. I didn’t fit neatly into the rigid negative “feminine” stereotypes of helplessness, passivity and an obsessive concern with beauty.

Regarding my third friend, whose son declared his newly-found daughter status, she’s not been ready to talk about it. Perhaps she’ll read about others with similar experiences.

So I have been flirting with the idea of creating an anthology of what the parents of Trans offspring experience. It would be a collection of first-person accounts of what it’s been like for them. Remember that the LGBTQIA+ community is exactly that: a community that provides strength and support. Their parents need community, too. Perhaps a book would be a great way to start pulling them together instead of feeling so alone.

As humans, it’s common sense and common knowledge that change is not our favorite pastime. Another friend, Tien Neo Eamas, is Trans with a few more distinctions: a person of color whose first language is not English. He talks to straight people honestly and openly about his journey and has created a seminar that clears up the confusion. If you’d like to schedule a class or consultation, he can be reached by sending him an email.

If you are on this journey, don’t do it alone. Your head will most likely become an echo chamber of doubts, shame, and recriminations. You could be like indigenous people and consider it good luck to be related to a Two-Spirit person. We can be grateful for our differences and remember that stretching our minds — while sometimes initially painful — results in more flexibility rather than rigid notions of She and He.

Ellen Snortland teaches creative writing online and has a few rare openings in her classes. To get more information regarding tuition and schedule, she can be reached here.