Wide Eyed Innocence of Children

One of the things I enjoyed most during my reign of operating my daycare was the wide-eyed innocence of young children. They are who they are with abandon. They look at other children with the same open acceptance. They don’t see color, race, wealth, poverty or any of the many classifications of the adult or even school age world.

“Boys” and “girls” are quite possibly one of the first things children do take note of. Little boys and little girls walk into the world dressed and adorned by their parents. Children are a mirror of their caregivers.

The idea of feminine versus masculine begins before our children are born. I speak for myself when I say this but my ideas were formed by my mom, siblings, family, friends, media and the world around me. The only items of clothing that were not defined by the sex of my children were the sleepers I bought to bring them home from the hospital. Gender neutral began and ended there. At least for me.

I remember my cousin having preconceived ideas of her first born, who happened to be a girl. She named her a masculine sounding name, spelt with a feminine flair. I seem to remember her planning to dress her “tough”, like a tomboy. But as soon as her little girl was able to express her wishes when it came to clothing, it was frilly, feminine and dresses all the way.

Once again, the free expression of children is present from a very young age. I wonder how often my ideas overpowered that of my own children.

When my male-at-birth child reflected on their thoughts in their early years, they did express an inner desire to dress differently than I had been dressing them. “What would you have said if I had asked to shop in the girl’s section?” I was asked. I am sorry to say that I would have tempered this choice by finding clothes within the boy’s section of clothing more to their liking. I wouldn’t have been comfortable to have my child to express their gender if it went against society’s norm.

I raised my youngest child within a daycare setting where toys for all genders were readily available. I bought my young child a doll, with eyes that open and shut, for Christmas because they were so enamored by a doll a little girl brought to daycare. I bought a small kitchen toy. My young child was exposed to all kinds of nurturing and kitchen/cooking related toys. I wanted my child to use their imagination and grow up with the idea of non-gendered housekeeping and parenting ideas. I felt like such a progressive parent.

My male-at-birth child has come out as a transgender female. The evolution of my child revealing their innermost thoughts to me was preceded by a deep, dark and debilitating depression. A depression so dark, that my child could not form words to speak. I felt absolutely powerless but I begged them to write – to express their thoughts in whatever fashion that came natural to them. Take the words out of their head and put them somewhere to release their power and try to make some sense of them.

I had no idea what my child wrote but they did tell me they had written but weren’t ready to share it with me yet. We talked when my child was open to talking. There was a lot of silence. I cannot begin to fathom how my child felt as they waded through waters I knew nothing about.

Thankfully, little by little, bit by bit, my child opened up to me. I am grateful my openness and unwavering acceptance of a family member who is gay gave my child the assurance they needed to know to start hard conversations. I am beyond grateful that door was already ajar so my child felt safe to walk through it.

Please be careful when you speak. You never know who is listening.