Our meeting at Gitche Gumee Elementary School went as well as could be hoped for on Friday. Both the teacher and the principal were immediately accepting of the Tiny Tornado's choice of name and gender, and both of them immediately understood that information about his gender status was for sharing only on a need-to-know basis. The principal ran through his list of who he thought those people were, and it primarily included folks like the classroom aid who will be taking the kids to the bathroom from TT's classroom. I might have questioned some of the list; I wasn't sure on first thought that every professional who deals with TT in any capacity needed to know. But, on reflection, it seems to me a good idea that they do. Just in case something extremely unlikely happens, like TT being "outed" by some kid who catches a glimpse of him with his pants down, the adult in the room needs to be ready to respond appropriately. So we were comfortable with the principal's list.
Miss Erica, the classroom teacher, had made a chart on the wall showing all the kids' birthday months. I was happy to see that she had used balloons as name tags for it, rather than flowers vs. firetrucks, and I couldn't see anything else in the room that was gender-specific in a stereotyped way. When I commented on this, she affirmed that she tries to run a gender-neutral classroom. She also said she'd make a new balloon for the TT to reflect his new name.
One of the two bathrooms nearest the classroom has been converted to an attached bathroom for a special-ed classroom, so TT's class will be using a single gender-neutral bathroom this year. Everyone in the room agreed that that had worked out very well, and TT was thrilled to hear about it when we got home and told him.
You could feel the pressure the principal is under as the school year approaches--he practically sprinted out of the room at the end of our meeting--but he stayed long enough to hear me thank them. "Some parents we know have not had such an easy time with their children's school," I said. Both Miss Erica and the principal were surprised by that. I have noticed this phenomenon for years; there are people who, without necessarily having any specific background in trans issues, nonetheless feel that it is no big deal at all. These folks can be genuinely shocked to hear that others do not think the same. This is not always a good thing--it can be hard to convince folks with that "what's the big deal?" mindset that there are social issues that need to be addressed, or they can sometimes see trans folks and their allies and loved ones as being a bit dramatic.
When it comes to my 5-year-old starting "Begindergarten," though, I have no problems with their cheerful naivete. Because they have so much control over how this plays out--they create the reality in that classroom and that school for the Tiny Tornado. And if that reality is a bubble where being transgendered is accepted as casually as being left-handed or brown-eyed, well, I am not sorry for TT to spend some more time there.
On another topic, I had a bit of a challenging day with the Tornado earlier this week. Of course I posted about it on Facebook, because I post about everything except sex and poop on there. Well, my poop. I'm pretty sure I've posted once or twice about someone else's, a dog or a kid.
Anyway, I was remembering that we used to have this wonderful but very difficult Moluccan cockatoo. His previous owner had named him Loki, and he lived up to that name. After a few years of struggle and love with this beautiful bird, we decided to change his name in the hope of shifting our own perception of him and giving him something else to live in to. So we started calling him Stevie, which fit his sweet and cuddly nature.
It occurred to me that TT's internet pseudonym might be like that. Call a kid a tornado, and he'll be a tornado. I thought that perhaps I should start calling him The Peaceful One instead. Because a mom can always hope.
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2 comments:
I was holding you all in the Light on that day, and so relieved to hear things went well.
Parts of this brought tears to my eyes. In a good way.
Thinking about matter-of-fact acceptance and how that's both a good thing and a not-so-good thing... I love that there are people who don't need to think twice about certain things. I *don't* like how it makes the discrimination and struggles we've gone through in other places or with other people invisible. I need it to be both/and.
I'm reminded of an experience I had where I was one of the most outwardly visibly different people in a community I loved and where I felt beloved. That community didn't pretend I wasn't different in that way. They dealt with it really openly, but also matter-of-factly. Their attitude was a bit like Ms. Erica's and the principal's -- but they also asked about my experience of that difference in other communities, and really listened. And then, when that difference came up, they totally had my back -- again, very matter-of-factly, but I could tell they were aware this was an issue and sometimes a real struggle, and they have been awesome allies. They've been real community around it. They haven't, generally, made a bigger deal out of it than it's needed to be, but they've defended me and helped me defend myself when needed. Both/and. Sometimes, it happens.
Lots of love to you and your family.
"It occurred to me that TT's internet pseudonym might be like that. Call a kid a tornado, and he'll be a tornado. I thought that perhaps I should start calling him The Peaceful One instead. Because a mom can always hope."
Ah yes, the creative tension between how things "are" and how things might be... accepting and loving oneself and others and humanity as we "are" and also continuing to aspire... Not to mention the cup-half-empty, cup-half-full aspect of "tornado-ness." :-)
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