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.
