Goodbye, Homeschooling and Hello, Middle School!

May 15, 2015 The Maven

Image credit: SickestFame via Flickr.com

LGBTQ "safe space" stickers on the doors. Check.

Staff using the proper pronouns and transgender terminology . Check.

Male, female and all-gender washrooms and change rooms available. Check.

Everyone is hella friendly . Check.

I was running through a very important list in my head as I sat in the middle school's main office this week, checking off item by item.

My daughter has made a very brave and unexpected decision: she is going back to school next year.

It's a year earlier than we had planned. The initial goal was to stay home through grades 7 and 8 while she gains confidence and resiliency, and then re-enroll for grade 9 in a high school where she doesn't know anyone. A fresh start for her, something she desperately wanted.

But what did I say a little while back? Transitions are so... transition-y. And I should really know by now that life doesn't go as planned. But then again, I'm the girl who carefully picks the shortest line at the grocery store and inevitably ends up behind the coupon-wielding price-matcher every. single. time. I'm a bit of a chaos magnet. I think I was born for it.

Last week I received an incredible out-of-the-blue email from our local middle school's principal. She had heard our interview on CBC and wanted me to know that if we were ever interested in considering re-enrollment for grade 8, she would be happy to meet with us.

This was the school Alexis would have attended this year if we hadn't decided to homeschool. She vowed never to go there. Not so long ago, the idea used to fill her with dread and anxiety. I really didn't think she would be keen to accept the principal's invitation. Like, at all. So I very delicately approached her with the idea.

She jumped all over it. "OMG. When can I go?" "What do I wear?" "Oh! I'm going to pick out my outfit right now, ok?" "This is so great!" "Do I really have to wait until September or can I start right now?"

I had an unplanned pregnancy once. He's 18 now and pretty cool. Life is a series of unplanned moments that are very much like that: not at all what I thought was going to happen, but pretty cool. This was definitely one of them.

What a difference a year can make. From terrified to thrilled. From closeted to confident.

Incredible.

The principal was warm and inviting and wonderfully educated in trans issues. She's passionate about inclusion and making sure everyone feels safe. She's an ally to the core. I can feel it.

Alex - in her pre-planned wardrobe - toured the school with her and was greeted by many friendly faces. Her old classmates were thrilled to see her, and really excited she was going to be rejoining them in the fall.

Having already had my own tour a couple of days before, I hung out in the main office to check the pulse of the school. It's surprisingly viable. Yes, it's middle school, awash in a sea of hormones and gangly limbs, but it seems like a good place. The kids are happy. The staff is engaged. The place feels connected.

I'm not going to lie: I'm still worried. The kids who gave her a really hard time go there, and I know how cruel kids can be at that age. But I hope that between supportive staff, an active LGTBQ community and some strong allies, she's going to be just fine.

I just want her to feel safe; she's a big piece of my heart. I would say she's the most delicate piece, but that's completely inaccurate. She seems delicate, but she's not. I've never met a stronger person. She has emerged from the ashes of her former self as this resilient, confident powerhouse of a girl. She's not going to let anyone push her around.

And I will keep being her mom, her advocate, and her grownup voice when she needs one. That's not going to stop. I'll have my fingers on that school's pulse all year by keeping in touch with the staff and volunteering my not-so-little tush off.

So for now I'm going to wrap up our homeschooling (which was mediocre, at best - I'm not the world's best teacher), make sure she's as caught up as possible, and ensure the lines of communication stay open between us as she starts her new adventure in the fall.

And you know, while it wasn't a great year for formal education, what she learned about herself was invaluable. I'm glad we could give her the space to do that. It was a year of change and discovery that you just can't get in a classroom.

My little phoenix is blazing her own trail in her own way - on her own terms. Colour me impressed, you guys.