Pasupatidasi's Blog

thoughts, poetry, life as it is…


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vindication

it’s a strange title for the piece i want to write today.  it’s a strange notion on its own.  still, it is the overall feeling that i took home from the recent trip to maryland for the gender spectrum east symposium.

first let’s look at the word in this definition from merriam webster dictionary.

everyone clear? because all of the various meanings in this entry are what i feel upon reflection of the past few days events.  but i suppose first it would be fitting to explain a few of the reasons, or circumstances, that preclude the need of vindication.

first there is the fact that my daughter is both transgender and autistic.  as regular readers of my blog are aware.  this in itself would not require a parent to have a desire to feel vindication.  but any good parent has doubts as to the child-rearing methods they employ.  we all want to ‘do right’ by our children.  and there exists no dearth of opinions both for and against the way in which we proceed.

this is especially true of parents whose children are “divergent” (by the way, this movie by the same name is a good allegory for our society and its fear of those who don’t easily fit its slots)

we are held up to scrutiny by strangers, by family, friends, and by professionals that believe we should do things their way.  sometimes well-meaning individuals even feel it necessary to report us or our methods to child protection services.  and frequently doctors, specialists, teachers and other ‘authority’ figure types try to bully us into changing our way.

for example, right after the very first vaccination given to zee, she began to have terrible seizures.  they lasted for about 12 months, terrible at first, then tapering off.  i knew that it was caused by the shot… i knew i would never allow another vaccination to be given her.  and of course, you can imagine the flack i have taken for this decision.  but many children who have a ‘bad reaction’ to the ‘shots’ are subsequently diagnosed with autism.  now there is no proof by which i can feel vindicated in this instance,  but she no longer has seizures, and has never had a sick day in her life…even when other children, vaccinated children, were coming down with things the shots were supposed to protect against.  no measles, no mumps, no chicken pox…no dreaded flu or whooping cough.

but as to my decision to homeschool zee, i have often heard the same caution.  it goes something like:

“well of course, one on one education in the homeschool situation is good for learning most things…but what about socialisation?”

even the most well meaning of my friends and family, as well as counselors and professional people have raised this question.  but in my experience, schools are horrible places to learn socialising skills, especially for the ‘divergent’.   there are  bullies,  teachers often don’t have the time or inclination to intervene, and one is not rewarded for socialising during class time…but rather, is punished for it.

i’ve not had opportunity to know whether  or not i was depriving my daughter of this skill, one that is already difficult for many autistic people.  then this magickal weekend at the gender spectrum event happened.  and unlike the previous one she attended in berkeley, (where she didn’t have much of good show of those skills) she was an absolute butterfly!  even the volunteers that looked after the tweens were pleasantly surprised at how unguarded and open she was.

for my part i was nearly blown away, when she, faced with a tight squeeze to sit at the craft table and make her name tag, paused only briefly before shrugging it off by saying:  “well, socialisation is important for me so…”  even two years ago this had been a nearly impossible feat for her.  lack of schooling in a public school hadn’t crippled her after all…and being autistic, which often means social awkward-ness, 10628112_594366457359671_3795345244803197134_n 10151146_594366544026329_4318594729212057215_n 10734180_594366524026331_6456139925374766851_n had not stood in the way.

there is another aspect to this weekend having given me a sense of vindication.  the other transgender children…and their supportive parents, family and friends.  seeing acceptance in action, the good it brings, both serves to prove to me that the path we have chosen is the right one, and give me hope for the future.

i had a couple of experiences recently that make me want to vent…but for today’s post, i just wanted to bask in the glow of vindication.

 

 


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Jazz,…forever!

read this…then read on

 

there are quite a few role models for transgender girls…many of them are already all grown up and in the public eye, like laverne cox…laura jane grace, julia serrano…so many.  but for ziona and i, there is one who stands above the rest.  one whose story gave meaning to what zee was going through…and gave a clear way forward to the mother at her wit’s end who had no idea as to how to help her child.

at a time when my child was despairing over having been born in the wrong body, and i was scratching my head as to what was going on,  jazz jennings shared a special and very personal story on a program hosted by barbara walters.  the segment was called, ‘my secret self’ and jazz was among the young people telling the story of gender identity disorder.  it aired here april 27th of 2007…6 months after ziona had used what little language her autism could allow her could  muster, to explain to me the pain she was going through…the reason she wanted to die. (so god could get it right next time and zee have the girl body to match her girl self)…she knew she was a girl!

because of jazz and her family being brave, honest, and open about their experience i knew what i had to do and how we needed to move forward.  i needed to believe her…and she needed to be allowed to be the girl she was born to be.

now zee is on puberty blockers to suppress the irreversible effects of testosterone, and is anxious for the day that she can get cross hormones, to grow breasts (but not too big, she says) and of course, she lives for the day that surgery will complete the process of her transition…for ziona, nothing short of the whole package will do, even tho she knows that she is already  a girl to me and everyone else she knows. for ziona, having a body that perfectly reflects that reality…a body without any parts that belong on boys, is an absolute necessity.

without my having just so happened to be watching t.v. that night…without that jazz and her family had shared their story, and that barbara walters as host had lent the matter a serious and legitimate air,  who knows what ziona’s reality might have been!  because, even though i’ve been a part of the queer community for decades…it had never occurred to me that a child of 3 years old,  my child…would have such a hard row to hoe!

so yes, there are many to whom young transgender girls can turn for examples of how to hold their heads up high, accept themselves and be proud.  but for us, jazz will always be a sort of trailblazer entity…a girl, who like zee, just knew…and who shone a light in our darkest hours, that led us forward to brighter days!

thanks jazz!  forever


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“so i’ll remove the cause, but not the symptom!” doctor frankfurter, ‘rocky horror picture show’

so this happened…

i’m quite disappointed.  despite all the recent gains, despite positive role models being plastered on the cover of ‘TIME’ magazine, and with the advent of rights such as medi-care and obama-care covering transgender health issues, or the advancement in some states to replace laws that restrict gender marker and name changes on birth certificates, it seems no matter what progress arises there will always be affronts to the dignity of trans-folk.

this is why i try to educate people in my little area of the world…and broader plains where i am able. it is also why ziona refuses to be ‘stealth’.  perhaps it’s her autism and resultant lack of adherence to social norms, or simply her fighting spirit, but likely it is also her sense of right and wrong that make her adamant about NOT hiding who she is, and likewise NOT being ashamed.  she gets righteously angry at slights, slurs and especially outright wrongs done to people just because of who they are.

her indignation extends beyond her own group.  she is angered by all manner of bigotry: racism, sexism, ageism, looksism, sizism…so many ‘isms’ to reject, so many to fight.  and in our discussions about such things as these, we also talk about the best way to combat them, identifying their roots and identifying their causes.

but even if we remove the cause,(ignorance)  it seems the symptoms remain…a rather dire prognosis if we don’t also find a cure for hate and bigotry.

“so i’ll remove the cause, but not the symptom!”  doctor frankfurter, ‘rocky horror picture show’


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15 Infants Reported Dead in Syria in Drug Mix Up – PNC Voice | PNC Voice

this is shocking enough…surely the powers that be will make it look like it’s a rare happening…

but what about the girls paralysed or otherwise suffering after the anti-hpv vaccinations, what about the neurologically impaired or autistic children after the hep. B vax given at birth, or the dpt…the mmr?

surely the recent revelations of the CDC whistleblower who helped to publish fraudulent papers about the ‘no link between vaccine and autism’  should give us pause.

i never get the flu shot, and i never get the flu…my mom gets both every year one after the other…

i think it’s safe to say that one should think twice before letting a strange substance be injecting into one’s body!

 

15 Infants Reported Dead in Syria in Drug Mix Up – PNC Voice | PNC Voice.

butterfly emerging from chrysalis (


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metamorphosis

today, while standing at my kitchen sink, my hands deep in suds and my gaze out the window…as i was rinsing out the last of the dishes, a subtle movement of something colourful interrupted my unfocused stare.  upon bringing my attention to the matter, at first i thought it an old leaf, too soon turned with its orange hue and curled edges, caught perhaps in a spider’s abandoned web on the window’s screen.

i watched for a few moments as the bit of detritus shifted smoothly on the morning breeze.  then i brought my field of vision into more acute focus as it dawned on my that this was not some dead leaf, fallen early from her moorings only to be caught up in another.

part of the slender presence seemed attached to something from which it was wrenching itself free.  it took seconds for me to know what i was witnessing…a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis!

mesmerised, i watched as it shifted ever so slightly, moved by an unseen breath.  almost one had to slow down time to discern its subtle movements. as soon as i could break free from the spell unto which i’d unknowingly succumbed, i called to my daughter to share the miracle with me.

she was not unimpressed. and as we stood there together, the natural teacher in me rose up and explained that the newly metamorphosed creature somehow knew just exactly how small a hole to make in the encasement so that in squeezing through it, the pressure of emerging would push ‘juices’ from its abdomen out into the veins of its wings, causing them to eventually unfurl…too big of a hole and the requisite pressure would not be great enough to enable the wings to flight…too small and the butterfly would be trapped inside.  the notion of this exquisite perfection of innate knowlege overwhelms me.

but, even as most children below a certain age are not thrilled by sleight of hand magick tricks (why wouldn’t i be able to pull a coin out from behind his ear?) similarly my 11 year old daughter didn’t seem to grasp the perfection in what the butterfly had accomplished…the tiniest margin of error avoided without effort.  in fact, no emerging butterfly ever makes the hole too big or too small!

i thought of how ziona was a butterfly, her former body so different from what her new one will be.  just as the caterpillar must be sacrificed for the butterfly.  now, on her puberty blockers, she is in a sort of chrysalis. waiting now, but someday in the near future she will change too.  someday the butterfly will push through, unfurl its wings and bask for a moment in the early sun, before listing off on a breeze.

how magickal it is! how awesome to be part of this metamorphosis.


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Dear “Autism Parents”,

pasupatidasi:

as mom to a beautiful neuro-diverse, transgender daughter i am always impressed by this person’s writing! her blog posts are nutritious and enlightening…enjoy!

Originally posted on Just Stimming...:

I want to clear a couple of things up.

1.

I don’t have autism. I am autistic. This is important to me. It also doesn’t mean that I “see myself as a disability first and a person second,” whatever that is supposed to mean. In my eyes, I’m Julia. Just Julia.

I cannot separate out which parts of me brain are wired because baby I was born this way and which parts of my brain should be marked off as AUTISM. Nor do I particularly care, to be honest. I am Julia, and a significant fraction of Julia is autism (and thus, via the transitive property, I am autism but that’s not the point). Am I a writer because I’m Julia, or because I’m autistic? My writing is good in its own right, I am told, and it’s also fundamentally shaped by my neurology–just like yours. I like

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a ‘passing’ grade

just wanted to share this awesome Janet Mock article with any readers of this blog.  

now to rant.

i hate the term ‘passing’ as it is applied to transgender people! we are so looksist and sexist in our society.  when people use the term ‘passing’ for a transgender woman, what i hear behind the words is: “he really looks like a woman”   

no one worries about how i, as a cis-woman, ‘present’.  i can wear pants and no make-up all day long, be as frumpy as i please and no one challenges whether or not i am a woman.  no one questions that i ‘pass’.  so i can’t imagine how unfair it must seem for a transgender woman to be held up to some unreal standard of ‘passing’.  i’ve heard the saying that gender isn’t between the legs, it’s between the ears.  i totally agree.  so where does ‘passing’ figure into it?

it seems a back-handed compliment at best and not very trans-friendly to judge whether or not a woman makes the ‘passing’ grade.  

some of my older friends who are transgender tell me that my daughter is lucky to be receiving puberty blockers that will keep her from suffering the irreversible effects of testosterone.  that she will be able to ‘pass’ much easier.  but i feel that it’s a shame that it’s such a big thing.

of course, this is all a very cis-gender attitude to have.  after all, with or without make-up, i am read as a woman, and there’s no danger that a man, who has felt attracted to me, will later feel betrayed and angry enough to beat me for not being a ‘real woman’.  i will not have a job interview go south because i don’t ‘pass’.  i will not be followed home down a dark street by dangerous idiots that taunt me as being a ‘she-male’.

whether i think passing matters or not is of little consequence.  but i look forward to a day when no one worries about such a thing.  when a woman is a woman because she says so! when that is enough! i look forward to a day when ‘trans-exclusionary radical feminists’ realise that their own ‘womanhood’ is not more than that of a transgender woman.  when society lets go of a need to judge…

i look forward to a time when people are more concerned about their own being able to  ‘pass’ for a compassionate human being.

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