Gender roles

As a gay man I can fully appreciate the weight of growing into a full fledged human being and going on the journey of self-discovery while constantly being told by society that who you are isn’t cool. So, I have a soft spot for pretty much any sort of outcast or any person who’s made to feel less than valuable.

About seven years ago my views on gender roles were changed forever. Seven years ago, my father came out to me as transgender. I had been in the gay community for some time but I had literally no idea what being trans meant.

My parents were married while my father was in medical school. They got married in my grandparent’s house on the cheap because being in medical school is seriously expensive.

Not long after they got married, my older brother came along. Two and a half years later, I was born. A few months after that, my parents were divorced and, for the most part, my father was gone. Throughout my childhood, he dropped in here and there. Occasionally he’d come into town for a brief visit on a summer afternoon. He’d take us to the amusement park, we’d have lunch and then he’d drop us all off on the porch eating a Frosty from Wendy’s and crying our little eyes out.

About the time I was twelve, my father, his wife and my two half-sisters moved to a small town about an hour away from us. At that point we began seeing him on a regular basis. But we could never really form a close relationship with him no matter how much time we spent with him. It bothered me for years that I always seemed to hit a brick wall with my father and it prevented us from really getting close.

Fast forward to when I’m an adult. My father came out to me via e-mail. My response, literally, was “who cares?” At that very moment, pieces of the puzzle came together for me regarding my father. I was instantly able to put myself in his shoes as a gay man. I imagined how differently my life would have turned out and how troubled I would be if I had grown up in a time where I felt my only option were to get married, have children and live the lie. My grandparents were very traditional and religious so the idea that they would have understood or accepted a transgender child is completely out of the question. They were wonderful people – don’t get me wrong – they were just from a different place and time.

Knowing the internal struggle that my father was grappling with from childhood on put things into perspective for me. And it instantly made me feel such a strong sense of mourning for his life. He had lost so much of it to fitting into the norm and was never able to truly be honest about who was on the inside.

The transition process was already underway when he told me. On our first meeting, we had a great, long evening of conversation, laughter, some tears and a sense that we were building something new between us. The walls were down for the most part, we were able to discuss things openly and there was a connection there that had never existed before. At the end of the night we had a goodbye hug that made things real for me. As I hugged my father, I felt bra straps. I pointed out how surreal it was for me and more laughter and tears erupted.

Seven years later and my father is now the best mother I’ve ever had. I’ve never been close to my birth mother for various reasons (some mine and some hers). With that being the case, and the aloofness of my father, I had always felt sort of alone when it came to having a parent to rely on and to fully open up to. The relationship that we began forging on bra-strap-night has grown exponentially to where she is now my closest friend, second only to Jer. She’s a constant in our lives, she’s a constant in Bean’s life and she’s a presence that I sorely needed. She’s the most maternal, loving, supporting, hilarious, trustworthy, honest and, without a doubt, the happiest mom on the planet. After living for decades as someone else, there’s an undeniable joy in her that is contagious and it’s something I desperately adore.

But having such a close relationship with a person who’s deal with Gender Identity Disorder (GID), it’s highlighted many issues that we as parents create for our children.

I had always known that you can’t look a child and see whether or not he/she is heterosexual or homosexual. Prior to my Mom’s transition, it never even crossed my mind that the gender I see on my child may not be the gender they self-identify as in the future. And, for all of the haters out there, GID is REAL. 1 in every 2,500 births results in an inter-sexed child (formally known as hermaphroditic). If you believe in God, proof is in the pudding. He didn’t create only two sexes; he created a third sex with varying levels of male and female identifiers. It’s completely ridiculous to imply that he didn’t also create varying levels of gender identities.

When the Bean came along, I began the normal nesting and shopping you for a child: we bought furniture, clothes, blankets and everything else you need. I noticed something that really bothered me.

Blue = boy.
Pink = girl.
Truck = boy.
Flower = girl.
Baseball = boy.
Princess = girl.

I realize there’s a practical side to this with helping identifying the sex of a bald baby so you’re not hounded with questions about the sex of your child. But it didn’t stop there. As we looked forward to toddler toys and even pre-school, blue = boy and pink = girl.

What about transgendered children? What about LGBT kids that don’t want to play baseball as boys (me) or play house as girls.

I began reading (what I always do when something angers me – research) about gender neutrality. It’s been my mantra since Bean came and I know my family and friends are sick of hearing about it. But it’s a message everyone needs to hear.

You don’t know the orientation or gender of your child until they’re old enough to tell you what they are. The decisions we make as parents can either nurture our children or cause significant damage over the course of their lives.

LGBT children and teenagers are 40% more likely to attempt suicide than heterosexual peers. I am not a psychiatrist by any means but, from my own experience, that had a lot to do, for me at least, with the expectations placed on me by society and my family. I was always on the outside as a child and made to feel ashamed of who I was. I wasn’t an athlete. I didn’t want to get dirty. I wanted to play dolls instead of wrestling. Those around me told me that, because I was born male and I “should be” straight, I should be playing baseball and it was NOT okay to play with dolls. From an early age, shame was shoved down my throat. It’s something I struggled with my entire childhood until I finally came out and learned to love everything about me from my gingerness to my gayness.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. By changing how we interact with our children we can save lives. We can save pain and heartache for innocent children.

Don’t assume your child is straight.
Don’t assume your child is gay.
Don’t assume your little boy identifies as male.
Don’t assume your little girl identifies as female.

Chances are your little boy is a little boy and is heterosexual. Same for your little girl. Mathematically you’re far less likely to have a LGBT child. But what if you do? What message do you want to send to that child? In the end, you have no control over whether or not your child is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender. But you have control over how you make them feel about it and the relationship they have. Even if your child identifies as their physical gender and as heterosexual, gender neutrality is just as important for your child
. Gender roles don’t just affect LGBT children. A lot of the schoolyard bullying that happens every day around the world comes from attitudes and opinions we place on our children. They are born clean slates – lacking any prejudice or intolerance. If we spent just a little more time considering how our attitudes and speech impact how our children view different races, orientations, genders or differently-abled individuals, we could make a huge, positive change in the world for our children and for the future.

The next time you’re in Target and your little boy wants a pink blanket instead of the blue one or your little girl wants a truck for Christmas instead of a Barbie….stop…think. Don’t perpetuate these damaging gender roles we’ve all grown up with.