It takes a village: the story of my trans son
This is Freddie’ story. The story of a trans child learning to navigate life in a transphobic society, with the unconditional love and support of their parent.
Testimonial of a parent using our Rainbow Families services, spoken during the Pink News Edinburgh Summer Reception on Wednesday 29th June.
Content warning: transphobia and bullying
It takes a village to raise a child.
You trust the village that more good will come than harm.
There are protections, guiding policies, rights enshrined in law to make the village safe for everyone.
But these are nothing when the village lacks knowledge and fails to understand its own people.
My son is trans and the village doesn’t like that at all.
Did he fall under the spell of an online trend? Is he confused? Has he read this front page news story about how children are being experimented on? Or this story about how trans acceptance compromises the safety of women? And look at this one, it’s just a phase, kids grow out of it if you ignore it and don’t indulge it.
The village has a lot to say about things it just doesn’t understand but wants to contain and control anyway.
And the village likes to blame…culture, the internet, youth, parents…
Accepting my daughter as my son is perhaps bonkers to you. Maybe you would rather have me screened for munchausen’s syndrome by proxy than trust that this was absolutely the right thing to do.
In 2013 I let my 5 year old change their name, choose their own clothes, cut their hair short and style it like Robin from batman. They learnt to swim in trunks not a costume. I let them tell others they were a boy now. I told others they are a boy now. I allowed a child to believe what they felt was maleness absolutely is maleness even if their tiny body didn’t match.
Freddie today, Freddie everyday since.
Freddie listened to me, his mammy when I told him this was ok – there are other people like you, a rainbow in an otherwise blue sky.
In his new name his childhood began. Accepted and believed by friends, teachers, childminders, GP, dentist, Freddie’s life was normal. The village is not transphobic I would have him believe. But as his parent I was peddling pretty hard to ensure it…sticking my finger in the wall to stop Freddie’s world flooding…
So many firsts for people we needed help from, their professional support and expertise. The first time I formally met the school to ask for support they shared with me that in their many years of collective teaching experience they hadn’t taught a trans child…not that you know of, I thought.
School wanted medical input before they would support this. So off I went to take my healthy child to the GP. A proud father of 5 boys himself I thought we would be in good hands but he told me Freddie just needed to learn to behave. Something had gone wrong here, he said. But Freddie wasn’t naughty, he knew how to share, he did what was asked of him, he never hurt another intentionally but he absolutely refused to accept his birth
sex. They made a call on my behalf and we met the clever, kind, experienced consultant at the Sandyford clinic to discuss the tiny child and the things they liked to play with and wear.
But we had to talk about what this might mean for the future too. Healthcare is central to all in the village, some more than others. What will it mean for this little boy to go through puberty? What kind of life does a trans person live? They pointed me in the direction of peer reviewed research, they showed me what had come before, what had passed as trans health care. I was overwhelmed by how truly vulnerable trans people are and this is mainly down to how others treat them. The consultant said, You are believing him, allowing him just to be. That is what’s unstudied…Trans kids not being forced to change.
Freddie is 14 this Wednesday and he has a lot to celebrate. He has the health care that so many others only wait for. Hours of clinical assessment over 5 years, bone density tests, blood screening, body scans and chromosome testing all to monitor his healthy growth…our family are the lucky ones. His body is being given a trans shaped gift. It’s his own, a blank canvas to grow into. He has no breasts to bind, no period to endure, no dysphoria to disturb and distress him. If he could ask for anything this birthday it would be testosterone gel so that he could go through puberty with his friends but his puberty is suspended for another 2 years, this is a very exclusive but lonely club.
Sadly the Sandyford clinic or I can’t give him the very thick skin he needs to get through the day. His hard working school found it particularly hard to make bullying stop. It went on for 2 years and still goes on now. Kicks from nowhere, a shove, slap over the back of the head, firecrackers chucked in his face, his body thrown on top of a car by 3 others. And the sound of the hatred and ridicule ringing in his ears daily…tranny, mangina, anonymous death threats to his phone, followed home from school…It filled him with dread to wake in the morning and get ready for school. Eventually I stopped forcing him to go. We wouldn’t expect that of an adult, to face abuse everyday. The kids who did this to him, all they knew about. Freddie is that he’s trans. The school involved the police, as a family we debated taking things this far…children charged with hate crime? But the school assured us it was the right thing to do and the boys who were charged wore those charges like a badge of honour, letting Freddie know just how toxic they can be while they fight for their allegiance to gender. Slugs and snails and puppydog tales.
Nothing has challenged me more as a parent than holding my child through that. He turned the pain on himself briefly. The statistics for trans kids are not good…more likely to hurt themselves, more likely to experience suicidal thoughts, more likely to have an incomplete education, more likely to be attacked, assaulted, targeted. The school suggested he wear an imaginary shield of armour to get through each day. Preparing for battle, Freddie and I checked our ammunition…we had anti-bullying policy, an equality act, protected characteristics, ability to communicate, enthusiasm for learning. Freddie’s enemies would feel the wrath of our good manners and friendly dispositions as we presented our inclusive argument…it was exhausting so Freddy made do with sticking a pride flag on his bullies back. Humour is mightier than a punch. We have asked the school repeatedly to take a different approach with the children who enjoy harassing him. If they would acknowledge the prejudice base of this bullying and act accordingly.
But the school stuck to their systems, in Freddie’s eyes the violent kids won. His protected characteristic offered him no real protection at all. His own bloody school! The Silver Charter award stamped at the bottom of every transphobic email written by well meaning staff as they dance between the rock and the hard place. The policy asks them to assess the impact..you know where my kid wasn’t safe to go to school for months for something he can’t change about himself. Have they considered what this actually meant for our family? We have endured the impact without a break.
It made me wish I had more ammunition and at times I wondered where our allies were. It made me wish I was stronger, louder, braver, pushier, bolder. But what I really needed to do was be with Freddie and help him focus on the positives that are abundant when we take our moments to notice them.
In Freddie’s early years, I told him that these clothes, these toys were only stuff and choices. This became a pass to freedom, how radical that really is, telling a child that they get to follow their heart’s desire and they do! This is what the village objects to.
Here’s what I would like to read in the news
Section 28 is dead and buried, Trans joy is real.
But the village doesn’t want to teach children about gay stuff ( a direct quote from our parent council) so my child has grown-up explaining himself to the disbelieving and the curious and sadly the hateful too. We have to talk about diversity, yes in front of our kids, for our kids. This is our world, bigger than a village and it’s filled with extraordinary people, look at the myriad ways we exist! It’s a beautiful, life-saving truth and one I am proud of, are you?
