Thanks to Facebook I found an amazing blog today that I just had to share with the rest of you. The blog is written by a lady known as C.J.’s Mom and tells the tale of raising a gender nonconforming child. I have never seen either C.J.’s Mom’s face or that of her son, but I can tell you this now, after reading some of the entries, I love them both dearly.
This family is tackling head on what it means to raise a child who doesn’t conform to social gender identity and they understand the difference between gender and sex. I find it to be serendipitous that I found this blog on a day when I wanted to talk about the difference between the two and the way in which it is possible to be Transgender but not Transsexual.
Transgender literally means beyond gender and covers every form of gender identity, something that society doesn’t always appear to understand because in the eyes of most of society gender = sex. This is not the case. Sex = your genitals. Gender = your mind. I am Genderqueer and this means that if I choose, I can identify as Trans*. I choose not to because of societal views and getting tired of having to constantly explain the differences. Even, sometimes, to the LGBTQ community.
I’ve noticed that C.J.’s Mom questions a lot if her son is LGBTQ or not. I also note here that she has pointed out that she and C.J.’s Dad will respect his gender and sexual orientation with love and open arms. To her, I simply say this, keep on loving that beautiful little boy of yours. Regardless of his gender or sexual identity he is special. He was given to you for a reason, because you will guide him along his path in a loving environment. I pray and hope that more families will show the level of acceptance that you have and that you overcome any obstacles you face together with a continuing growth of love.
When I worked in a school with an attached nursery, one of the boys in nursery would regularly come in and head straight for the dress up. Little D would always choose one of the princess dresses. The first time I covered in the nursery, one of the regular nursery staff felt the need to warn me of this fact. I looked her in the eyes and asked her one question, “Have you ever seen me wear a skirt or pink?” She smiled and understood instantly. D and I spent that afternoon playing Princess Tea Party with three of the girls. I think about that boy often, with his shock of red hair and wonder how he is doing now. He’d be in his first or second year of primary school. I hope and pray he still has that wonderful flair for art and colour co-ordination and it hasn’t been bullied out of him.
I seriously recommend Raising My Rainbow to all who are interested. It’s full of funny and quirky little tales and also some of the more serious nature of what it means to be raising a child who is just trying to express themselves.
The ever scribbling nubbin 