Thursday, July 19, 2012

We Have Decided We Want More Kids

Raider and I (and the kids) attended the Trans-Health conference in Philadelphia in May. In one workshop we attended, a young trans person spoke about the support and love they had received from their mother as they were transitioning. I don't remember the specific details of their story; what I remember was the stillness and concentration in the room as they spoke, and the yearning. "You have the best mom in the world," someone said when they finished. Hearing this young person talk about their mother's love and acceptance filled the room with a mix of grief and tender wishfulness. If it is common for gay and lesbian youth to suffer estrangement from family, it is even more common for transgendered kids. And many people in the room had experienced that.

Another woman, the cisgendered mom of a gender-nonconforming child, said that one of her best resources had been a local support group for transgendered and transsexual people. They were very accepting of her, she said, and really helped her learn what she needed to know. Also, so many had been rejected by their families of origin that she became a kind of "surrogate mom" to many in the group.

There's a real need for people willing and able to be those parent figures for young people who've been cast out. Look at this infographic from the National Center for Transgender Equality:


I recently re-connected with a high school friend on Facebook. When I posted this graphic, she commented,"I'm guessing if we could lower the percentage rejected by families, the homelessness and suicide rates would drop dramatically." I suspect she's right. 57% is too many kids left without resources.

Raider and I have long had a kind of hope that someday we would be in a position to help such a young person. Twice in the last few years, we've taken people into our home who needed a place to stay for awhile, and it has worked out well, the biggest problem being our single bathroom. Last night, we had a wonderful date, sitting on the patio at a local coffee place sipping drinks and having the best kind of talk, and one of the things we talked about was wanting to be more intentional about this, getting the word out that we have a place for someone who needs one. And possibly putting in a half-bath.

Keep us in mind. If you hear of a young person who needs a place for awhile, we have one. If they're not local to us but willing to come to mid-Michigan we'll help with travel. (That's kind of a tall order, we know. We love it here but outsiders tend to see it as the middle of nowhere.) There is very little we can do to change the world, but we would very much like to do what we can to change a life.

4 comments:

jlr said...

Y'all are awesome.

S. Hunter said...

You know, during my brief stint with non-discrimination related homelessness, some women at my Quaker meeting offered me an invitation to stay in their house, rent free, until I left for graduate school a few months later. This was awesome, and saved me in so many ways- I really think if I had had the house sold out from under me like that and didn't have a place to go for free, I would have spent all my money that I saved for the move on trying to find a place to live for the summer, and I wouldn't have gotten my degree. But even better, they asked me in January if I would come back and live with them when I returned, giving me some time to get back on my feet financially. And it hit me that this is something that I could never get from my parents. We relate OK with each other now, but I don't know if they would let me move in with them, and I don't know if our relationship would survive it. I left pretty much as soon as I could and have never been able to go back.

So this kindness that I experienced from these friends of mine (in who's home I am typing this comment) not only kept me from living on the streets, or from financial ruin, but also kept me from destroying the already tenuous relationship that I have with my parents, a relationship made more tenuous by the homophobia that I still experience from my mother in particular, and the degree to which my divorced parents and their spouses loathe each other. So since experiencing this kindness I've decided that my end goal in life, the point at which I'll be able to look back and say that I have definitely done something right, will be the time when I'm able to offer the same thing to someone else. Fortune, publication, health insurance- I don't really care about any of that anymore. A place that I can call home, with space for someone else who needs it? That's pretty much it.

Su said...

Sarah, what a lovely piece of writing. Thank you.

Morgan said...

Yes. Blessed be. Both to you two, and to Sarah.