A couple of big things happened this week.
First, we pulled Gutsy out of school. It was a decision we
had been toying with for a little while. For years, she's been a bit of a
square peg in a round holed system, unable to fit in academically or socially.
Lately it's proven even more challenging. I guess when you're trans*, hearing
impaired, have a severe processing disorder, anxiety and depression, school can
get to be a little much. Or a lot much.
"I'm afraid we're losing her," one school
professional admitted to me on Monday. "I feel we've tried everything, and
she's just shutting down. She's such a bright kid. We need to find some way to
reach her." When we looked at all the stress she's dealing with these days
- an unimaginable amount, if you ask me - and thought about what we could take
out of the equation, school became the obvious choice.
After that, the decision was incredibly simple.
No more fighting with her tooth and nail each morning to get
her to a place she hates. No more heartbreak when she admits almost nobody will
talk to her, or tells us that her only two friends will be moving away this
summer and won't be going to middle school with her in the fall. Most
importantly, no more hiding her transition from everyone but a handful of
classmates. Gutsy has been wearing mostly boy clothes to school; not because
she wants to, but because she felt she had to in order to protect herself. She
was terrified.
Nobody should have to hide who they are.
This means I'll be homeschooling. People, I might just be
the most reluctant homeschooler of all time. It's totally selfish, but I'm
going to miss being alone in the house. It also means I need to cut back a
little on building my career (again) and that I'll have to precariously balance
her school needs and mine, as I attempt to get my final high school credit in
the fall.
It might also mean the two of us have to learn new ways of
communicating frustration to one another beyond screaming and slamming doors
and being epic drama queens. We have always been so stereotypically mother and
daughter that I'm surprised I didn't see the whole trans* thing coming for
years, honestly.
Yesterday we took Gutsy to an impressive and welcoming
self-directed learning centre. Compass is exactly what she needs. The staff is
great and the teens are some of the coolest and most dynamic people I've ever
met. They take charge of their learning and do it in ways that interest them. Some
of them are trans*, all of them are accepting.
Gutsy was invited to spend the day, and came home happier
than I've ever seen her. Her face was lit up, and she spoke excitedly about all
the interesting classes offered and friends she had made. She was invited back
again today to get more of a feel for things before we sign her up for a day
per week in the fall. Like any type of alternative education that isn't publicly funded, it's going to cost us. But it's so good for her. Geekster and I
realized this needed to be an essential part of her learning experience, and
that we will need to do some creative budgeting to make it work. But we will make it work.
So, of course, that's when I came home and found an email
from the staff at Ten Oaks Project, letting me know that a last-minute spot had
become available for Gutsy, who had been on the waiting list. And the cost
would be $750.
Ten Oaks is about the coolest camp ever. It's for any kid who
identifies as LGBTQ, or is the offspring of LGBTQ parents. It provides a
completely safe space to be yourself, to be understood by people who get you,
and to form potentially lifelong connections with other kids. I hazard to guess
it has saved many lives, as children leave there knowing they are not alone.
I sat there, crunching the numbers in my brain. How were we
going to do this? We had just committed to tuition fees for next year. And now
camp? I didn't think we could swing it.
And that's where you came in.
You, my friends, who encouraged me to crowdfund the camp
fees.
I cringed at the idea at first. We are not living close to
the poverty line. We are not in a terrible financial position. We are a middle class family of five who has
taken a bit of hit this year, that's all. This is why I didn't want to apply
for a subsidy, which the camp offers to less fortunate families. I know there
are families who need it far more than we do. But I also knew that coming up
with $750 would be a big challenge right now. Not always, but right now.
So I swallowed my pride - a giant amount, on account of quite
possibly having the biggest ego of all time - and set up a fundraising page. I
asked for the full amount, not expecting anything near that. I put up the page at 10:30pm. By midnight, it
had raised $200.
And by 9:30 this morning - eleven hours later - Gutsy's full
camp fees were completely covered. You had donated $750.
I found out we had met our goal right after dropping Gutsy
off for her second day at Compass. I was
sitting in the parking lot, and tears started to flow. I never expected this,
you guys. And while a part of me still feels shitty for asking in the first
place, I am so grateful not to have to worry about where that money is going to
come from. We can send our daughter to a wonderful LGBTQ camp, where she will
be embraced and wholly accepted, and not be stressed out about how we're going
to pay for it.
You are incredible, internet. Friends, blog readers,
complete strangers who apparently do whatever your friends tell you on Facebook
- all of you. I am indebted to you, and I promise that we will pay it forward
when we can. In the meantime, Gutsy and
I will keep sharing her journey, advocating for education and change, and
showing the world how love can move mountains.
Eleven hours. You sent my girl to camp in eleven.
freaking. hours. I hope you know how amazing you are. I will never
forget this.
And just like I did in the parking lot, and again on the
highway, I'm now crying and my mascara is running and I need to go eat a cookie
or something.
Thank you.
Thank you.
THANK YOU.
We are going to have a very happy little girl on our hands
this afternoon when she finds out she's going to camp in July. You made that happen.
Update: We're sitting at $900! That is $150 above our goal! You guys are amazeballs. As promised, any funds above Gutsy's fees will be
given to Ten Oaks to help other kids get to camp. The awesome people at Ten Oaks would like you to know that if you wish to donate directly, they will be able to do something for you that I can't do: give you a tax receipt for anything $20 or over. I'm all about saving the monies, so please feel free to do that way if you wish. And thanks again!