A large part of my job involves keeping up with current young adult literature. Yesterday I picked a book up from a cart of newly arrived titles and immediately became engrossed with the plot. Originally published in the U.K., Nothing Ever Happens Here by Sarah Hagger-Holt tells the story of a family navigating the uncharted waters of a parent transitioning to the gender to which they identify.
The timing for this novel couldn’t have been better.
This morning I woke up very early – settling into a new school year always comes as a bit of a shock to my sleep schedule. The extra time in bed, though, gave me an opportunity to catch up on some social media, namely Instagram. I follow a number of my former students and always find myself amazed by their accomplishments and adventures and am so appreciative for their continued presence in my life, even when it’s just online.
I’ve said it before, working with children is a privilege like no other and is absolutely the best part of my job.
I thumbed through posts and stories until I came upon an IG Live story recorded last night. At 25 minutes in length, it was longer than I typically have time to take in, but this morning I could afford the time – thank you, f’d up sleep pattern, said with utmost sincerity.
The topic of the video was my friend/former student’s ongoing gender transition and reassignment. I’ve witnessed this special unicorn as they graduated high school, studied in their chosen field at a prestigious college, married their true love in a neighboring state when they weren’t permitted to marry in New York, launched their wildly successful business and mourned the loss of a beloved parent.
Through the years, and it all, they’ve never failed to impress me with their ability to shine in their uniquely beautiful way and I’ve grown to care very deeply about them. I’m honored by their presence in my life and would do anything within my means to help them achieve the happiness and peace which they deserve.
The video was difficult at times – for them and for me. Learning of the lack of family communication as they embark on their journey, pains me. It seems to me that as a parent the most important things I can say to my children are as follows:
1. I love you.
2. Figure it out.
3. How can I help?
I can appreciate how difficult it must be for a parent or sibling to process the change in identity of a family member, but, ultimately isn’t about who, rather than what, they are? Their spirit remains unchanged and isn’t that what we should celebrate and love?
Over the years, there have been many students who have touched me, but the ones with whom I’ve most often remained in contact with are those who identify as LGBTQIA. Despite my own heterosexuality, I consider them my people and I will fight for them with my last breath. I may have struggled with the use of “they’ or “them” as their pronouns, but it isn’t because I don’t respect their identity – it’s because they deserve their own damn words, not a mere recycling of previously defined terms. Maybe we can work on that together.
If you, like me, were fortunate enough to have your own gender and identity align effortlessly, use your own position of comfort to provide the same to others who need your support. While they may not be who you expected them to be, they remain human beings who deserve to be accepted and celebrated without reservation. If you find yourself incapable of that basic consideration, please seek professional help. It’s your problem, not theirs.
And – to those who find themselves in need of acceptance, love and maybe even tips on how to become a woman, I’m here. I see you. I support you. I love you. How can I help?
