Pasupatidasi's Blog

thoughts, poetry, life as it is…


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a familiar story

as any readers of my blog know, the process of zion becoming ziona was very similar…without the public school experiences… please enjoy reading this family’s story…

and don’t forget to watch on june 30th!

the more that people understand our transgender kids, the easier their childhoods and journey to adulthood will be…and kids that aren’t traumatised make for healthier grown-ups!

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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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one can dream

many parents become anxious for this time of year…the time when the kids go back to school. we homeschool, for a number of reasons, and so back to school means back to the grind for me.  but i do try to make the experience enjoyable for us both.  we decide on electives together…this year we’re learning japanese and python….we use internet and videos for studying science and history especially…we choose art projects together and often plan a mid-autumn get-away to go caving or something.

it is frustrating to wear the hat of teacher and parent sometimes.  still, i wouldn’t have it any other way…not just because i don’t agree with the methods of teaching in public schools.  but also because it is a harsh world in public schools for children who are ‘different’ … there are bullies their own age with whom the must contend, there are even adults whose aren’t ‘cool’ with the ‘different-ness’  of our kids.

ziona has autism, but is very high functioning.  she does however have difficulty with nuance and socialisation among her peers.  which leaves her as the ‘odd man out’.  but the real danger for her in a school or other situation as loosely monitored as are classroom and playground, is the same one that she will have to eventually face nearly every day of her life.  

transgender women, in the world as it is today, are never quite ‘safe’ from bullying or attacks. as a mom  this is an overwhelmingly terrifying fact of life.  knowing that no matter how well i prepare her, no matter how savvy or strong she may eventually grow to be, there will always be the danger of her being judged, bullied or even viciously attacked just for being herself.  

i haven’t broken this to her yet.  i don’t know how to broach the subject of how horrible people can be to those who are different.  i don’t want to tell her how much more likely a transwoman is of being attacked or killed. i want to protect her from the fact that there are even other women who will judge and exclude her,  speak ill about her and shun her, just because she was born with a body that was a betrayal of her soul. i just don’t want her to have to worry about such things…not yet. 

still, one day i will have to begin to help her know about the dangers…one day, as her teacher and her mom, i will need to prepare her for the time when this nice cocoon of living and learning at home will come to an end, when she will spread her wings against the skies of her own tomorrow…i will need to help her know how to defend herself, in ways that other parents of cis-gender daughters never have to consider.

i guess there’s still time before i have to break the news to her…about how ugly the world can be.  in the back of my mind i hold out hope that the world will change…become a kinder, gentler place before she must fly the nest. and in fact, there are many good changes coming about.  transgender women role models are popping up in the most public of places…as actors, athletes, directors, musicians, doctors and politicians!  so maybe in the decade we still have before she is out on her own, the world will have changed…become safer.  

one can dream!

 

 

 


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waiting to exhale

it’s been a whole month since my daughter and i ventured west to california, an annual pilgrimage for us –  not just because we still have a place in the northern mendocino mountains, because these days we kill two birds with one stone, merging this ‘vacation’ ritual with appointments at the UCSF child and adolescent gender clinic.

but this year was special!  this year ziona reached the inevitable  ‘tanner level 2’.  that means that she was ready for the next step in her journey to her true self.

in the months leading up to this visit, ziona had been very distraught over the increasing ‘pop-ups’ of the part of her anatomy that betrays her.  the level of pain this caused her psyche apparent in the renewed threats to simply ‘cut it off’.  all day long that unruly and incorrect member beset her young mind with the constant reminder that things are not as they should be.

now it has been a month since the magickal implant was placed in her arm.  and the difference this has made is amazing.  tho results are individual, the relief of her ‘symptoms’ is already huge!

the first week was horrible! she kept on expecting that she would be free of the erections and the growth of the testes would be immediate.  she accused the implant of being a dud.  she cried every time a ‘stiffie’ raised it ugly head.  she begged me just to bring her back to the clinic and insist that an orchietomy be performed.  her anxiety that nothing would stop the onslaught of male puberty nearly consumed her.

i explained to her that it would take some time for the vantas implant to get into her system and shut down testosterone producation.  and altho i had faith that this was the case,  i found myself as on pins and needles as she seemed to be.  so i held my breath, hoping i would be proved right, the sooner the better.

so here we are now, a month later.  the testes are visibly retreating.  the horrid erections are nearly non-existant any more.  my beautiful daughter is far less anxious about the process and protocols that we are following, far more convinced that we will be able to make sure she doesn’t grow a beard, or develop a deeper voice.

on our way back home we visited with a good friend of mine, one whom i’ve known for eternities i’m sure, one who just happens be transgender.  altho dropping in on her had much more to do with my self wanting to reconnect with Candy after all the years, it served as further evidence that surgical gender transformation would eventually liberate ziona to become fully female as well.  it felt almost like a part of her was reassured in a way that simply telling her how this whole protocol worked could never quite do!

we skinny-dipped in a pond at my friend’s house.  so ziona saw a beautiful transgender woman, who had shed the cocoon of her former self and become who she was always meant to be.  the visage wasn’t wasted on her – she almost seemed to breathe a relieved sigh.

as for me, after feeling as tho i’ve been holding my breath for many months, i can finally rest a bit easier.  we have put one foot in front of the other on the path that is unfolding before us, and i’m no longer suffocating…no longer waiting to exhale!


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if tears could but heal

as loving parents, the pain our children feel is our own in a way…a deep way.  my daughter is going through pain i wish no child ever had to feel.  and there’s nothing i can do but stand by and hurt right along with her…

except i can’t really know how hard what she is going through is for her.  she has a body that every day tells lies about her.  that says, ‘you’re not what you think you are’.  the part of her she most wants nothing to do with seems to have its own mind…it has its way with her.   it jumps up and slaps her with the most unkind reality.

entering into tanner level two means that we can move forward a bit now.  we can get the puberty blockers that will stop her from developing the irreversible male traits testosterone would cause. and that’s a good thing.  but this level has also made her acutely aware of her helplessness in the situation.  every morning and often throughout the day, the penis she wants no part of makes itself hard and even harder to ignore.  she is crushed every time it happens.  she wants so much just to cut it off of her body.  i talk her through it with the same words every time.  that cutting it off would injure, maybe even kill her.

the problem is that she is in such pain that death seems an option for her.  she would rather be dead than have to go through what she is dealing with.  she threatens suicide.  i watch over her closely,  remind her that the problem of her having the wrong parts is temporary, fixable but that death is forever.  the words echo and clang around …so many empty cans kicked down the alley.

lately she sleeps, way too much.  i know why.  when i was in prison i wanted to sleep until my release date.  this is what she is doing.  she even admits that she wishes she could slip into a coma until   “after the surgery”.  she is every bit as much in a prison as was i.  though mine was only steel bars, walls and barbed wire fences, and mine was one i had earned.

her prison is far more constraining.  and she committed no crime justifying the sentence against her.  how i wish i could free her this moment! how i wish i could wave a magick wand and change her into the girl she will be.  how i wish it were possible to get the surgery done yesterday!

but i am as much a prisoner as is she in all of this.  my hands are bound, and i have no power to open the gates that will set her free.  there are protocols that are in place for good reasons.  there is a prescribed way forward that unfortunately must include time.  time so unkindly slowly passing between now and the day she can be under a surgeons blade.  time that doesn’t speed up no matter how much we want it to.  circumstances that depend upon time for their resolution are always most unkind!

this is a depressing read, i know.  and if anyone is still with me by this point please understand, i will get her through this.  i will keep her safe.  but how can i alleviate the pain she feels?  my own heart sinks below the horizon of a future that seems so far out of sight!  i am torn apart!  whereas she can temper her sadness with anger about the situation, i haven’t the benefit of this.  instead, feeling every bit as frustrated that so much of her being made whole depends solely on the passage of time and the reaching of a certain age,  standing helplessly by without remedy that can soothe her, i bleed from every pore of my being.

if these tears could but heal.