Seventh Grade. In our K-8, the seventh graders are upstairs in their own hallway; some of these kids are pushing six-feet tall. Many of the girls look ready to reproduce. I’m not noticing any facial hair on the boys to speak of; maybe the lack of male hormones in commercial milk explains that.
For the first year in recent memory Oscar hasn’t worn the skirt. Instead, we have a lot of Shane Dawson style dress-up, exaggerated drag for his private youtube channel. He rails against the privacy—no one can see his fabulous movies! But we’re still a bit leery of being out there too openly; holding his options open, as we say.
“I hope you don’t end up regretting any of this stuff you’re posting,” his mother says. We check everything before it goes on-line. One interesting catch was me reading my credit card number out-loud to a vendor in the background. We rule out serious profanity.
His features continue to change, as if in speeded-up time lapse photography for a parent pushing his fifties. His hair has been cut to shoulder length, with some bangs of his own addition. Somehow, it’s a girl cut, and this is enough to let him pass as a girl for many. Not that he has ever indicated any desire to pass as a girl; though, obviously, it doesn’t seem to bother him either.
Sexual preferences if any at his age are a jealously gaurded secret.
He’s still affectionate, though lately I’ve noticed, he has lost interest in holding my hand in public. I hold my ten year old’s instead.
Our daily battles center on homework. He has learned to edit video in imovie on his own; he has never enjoyed being told what to do or how to do it. I help him with some graphic arts stuff, as he impatiently fumes behind me.
The gay uncle’s gaydar shows no blip for Oscar. We also keep our own counsel, but I tell you, there isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t live in some unvoiced future scenario for their children. Hiding one’s shock at how it all turns out is one of the challenges of parenting.
Oscar’s teacher has trans friends. “The great thing about talking to trans people is you never have to say a word,” she joked. “They have a lot to talk about, mostly about themselves.” She says it with affection, but even so, the statement stings a bit.
Oscar never speaks of his presentation in gendered terms; never complains at being identified one way or another. He’s happier than I was at his age, I think, though I can’t say really if that is happy enough. Can our kids ever be happy enough?
I have less and less to say about it all. I will always be an advocate for gender freedom. I’ll never make, knowingly, another transphobic or homophobic statement; my legislators will hear from me on every issue.
But who knows what high-school brings. The toughest years are still to come, parents of older kids tell me, laughing at my current struggles as the parents of older kids always do.
Bring it on.
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