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| "Several brownies" by jeffreyw - originally posted to Flickr as brownies...yawn...boooring. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Several_brownies.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Several_brownies.jpg |
I cried this morning. I was grinding beans
for coffee #2 and all of a sudden the levee was breached and I found myself
inundated with tears.
It doesn't happen much. Most days, I'm a
bouncy ball of positivity (and caffeine) when it comes to everything, including
raising our twelve-year-old transgender daughter. I feel like we've got
this. We have strong family, community
and medical support. She's the happiest I've ever seen her. What's to cry
about?
But then I see things like this. A Florida
legislator wants to make it illegal for citizens like Jazz - my daughter's hero
and the reason she had the courage to come out when she did - to use the public
washrooms of the gender they identify with.
Frank Artiles, who submitted the bill, says it shouldn't be a big deal
for trans folk, because using a public washroom is a "choice."
I should laugh. It's idiotic, isn't it?
This bill doesn't stand a chance.
Or does it?
Every now and then it hits me that there
are so many ignorant, hateful people like Mr. Artiles out there. They live in
my country, too. They have a hand in making rules that directly affect my child's human rights.
I see it all the time. I see it in
Judgmental Mom. I see it in the handful of family friends we lost this year. I
see it in Facebook comments and at the bottom of articles with an LGBTQ focus.
I don't get it. My child needs to use the
washroom when she's out, and asking her to use the men's would be downright
traumatizing for her. She's a girl. Her brain is female. Medical experts have confirmed this. Her male
puberty is now arrested. There is no testosterone in her system. She will start
estrogen in the near future and have as much of it coursing through her veins any
other teen girl.
Why can't people get this concept? She is
not a predator in girl's clothing, going in to peek at or harass other females
(the main argument opponents of trans rights seem to have about washroom use).
She is a girl who needs to pee. That's it. Nothing more.
Furthermore, as trans women are still being
murdered at an alarming rate compared to the general population, it's a huge
safety concern to insist they use the men's washroom. (And of course, there are
serious concerns for trans men as well.)
Normally I can just shake my head and shrug
it off. But every now and then I am reminded that I'm still very much afraid of
what the future holds for my daughter. It is an uphill battle, and right now
I'm her shield against much of the discrimination the world is throwing her
way.
So I take a cry day, where I stay in pyjamas
and maybe eat some brownies. I guess today is that day. Good thing I made brownies last night. They
have icing and everything.
Sometimes these days make me feel like a
lousy advocate. How am I supposed to help change the world for the better if I
let fear win like this? I am my harshest critic when it comes to falling apart.
But I'm trying to take a gentler approach. Maybe
I'm not letting fear win. Maybe these are simply my refuelling days. My battery
is worn down and I need to charge it with tears and brownies and sappy TV shows
and hugs, that's all.
I'll be better tomorrow. I will. And I'll
get back up and start doing my part to change the world again. Honestly, I've never felt
so full of purpose as I have this past year. It's given me a reason to write
again, a reason to get more education, and another good reason to keep myself
as physically and emotionally healthy as possible. This is what I'm meant to
do. I feel it the core. So I will take my occasional shitty day and come back
even stronger the next.
See you tomorrow, legislators and
judgmental moms of the world.
I'll bring brownies.