parenting

When He Was Very Young

by Bedford Hope on February 23, 2010

How much information is too much information for a child?

All parents struggle with the particulars. When do you tell your kids about the messy reality of birth? The mechanics of sex? Homosexuality? Transgender? Death? War? The Holocaust? Serial killers? 911? The Bomb? Sarah Palin?

If you read the parenting experts, they’ll tell you that frequently when kids ask questions they only need general answers. You don’t need to go into a ton of detail. Their feedback can let you know if you’ve told them as much as they need to know; as much as they can handle. If you’re the type to babble along, filling conversational voids, digging yourself in deeper and deeper, learning how to make a simple statement and wait for a reply can be a challenge.

I’ve had some problems in this area.

Like the time, when Oscar was in first grade, when he demanded a bit more detail on the whole birth story. So I told him, teaching him a few new words in the process. He looked non-plussed. Then I made the Big Mistake.

“You know, not every kid is knows about this stuff, different parents have different rules, and different kids are ready to learn this at different times. So don’t go running down the street screaming ‘babies come out of vaginas! Babies come out of vaginas!’

I don’t need to tell you what happened after that. More than once.

Eventually, we got a good, progressive sex book called It’s So Amazing, which fascinated my younger child when we read it together, and disgusted Oscar, my gender-non-conforming child. (Amusingly, the book features two parenthetical characters who react to the subject matter presented in exactly the same way, for kids to empathize with. It’s a really good book if you’re not a wack-job / hater / fundamentalist.)

You’ll find a lot resources out there for all the common stuff; sex and death and puberty; eating disorders and ADD and Aspergers.

When do you tell your gender non-conforming kid about transgender? About surgery and hormones? About the irrevocable decision at puberty; to block or not to block?

Oscar was finishing Kindergarten, wearing the boyskirt, when at the local coffee shop which I used to haunt, pre-kids, and which I still attempted to hang out in now and then with kids, I saw a male-bodied person going through what I assume was the real life test, though this person could easily have been a cross-dresser. In a very very low key way I pointed him out to Oscar, deciding the breech of etiquette was justified by the teaching opportunity. The guy didn’t pass, having broad shoulders, Adam’s apple, big hands and rugged features.

Outside he asked, “Why would a man wear woman’s clothing?”

Collecting myself I asked. “Why do you like girl stuff?”

So I told him about transgender; the real life test; blocking and surgery, in general terms. He said, “Oh.” I told him there was no hurry, and few people felt this need, and that there were lots of ways to be a boy, and I filled the silence with my babble before grinding to a halt.

And I realized that Oscar lived in the moment, a child, and this story I was telling about this man was just another boring grown up thing that he knew had nothing at all to do with him.

There are kids who have an a-ha moment at this, and start saving money in big mason jars for their GRS. I’m not kidding. Oscar wasn’t one of them. The event, like so many before it, a non-event, for us.

So I don’t know how young is too young; in the end I don’t think it matters, and in the experience of our community no one has ever really regretted their own personal decisions.  As long as you’re sensitive, and speak generally, and respond honestly to questions, provide context, and don’t sweat the details they aren’t asking for and don’t need.

Let them be the kids they are.

They grow up quickly enough.

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Halloween: The Lion, The Witch, and The Boy Who Lived.

by Bedford Hope on November 1, 2009

powerpuff_oscarThe one day a year that men in drag don’t warrant a second glance?

Halloween.

For kids, though, it’s different. The Halloween costume is important. Will your kid be a superhero? Harry potter? An animal? A hobo? A criminal? A franchised character spat out of Cartoon Network, Nick Jr, or the Vast Unstoppable Disney Juggernaut?

Will your girl be a boy, of one kind or another? How adorable!

Does your boy want to be a girl?

The world screeches to a halt; time stands still, mouths gape wide. Kids aren’t ironic, see—that’s what makes them kids. They wear their hearts on their sleeves. Open; guileless. The boy that wants to be a girl; a girl character; a fairy, a princess, Hermione instead of Harry, Supergirl not superboy, ballerina, Hello Kitty, Dora the Explorer, Ariel, Belle, Bo Peep, Jasmine, Snow White, Cinderella; a witch, not a wizard. A dress, tights, high heels, glitter, tafetta, silk, satin, gauze, pink…

Means gay. Or something even worse.

Parents of little gv kids live in terror of halloween. How will the neighbors react? How will the child’s friends react? What will the repercussions be, if we let him be…what he wants to be?

And so parents are faced with the original dilemma all over again. Will you put your kid who lives in a costume, into another layer of costume? Or do you, on this one night, let him be what he really wants to be? Hoping that the world will let it slide, chalk it up to irony, just a costume, just a joke?

Doing that, though, how will he feel, putting his little boy costume on, the following day?

The unfairness of it burns like acid. Other kids get to be what they want to be. Superman. Freddy Krueger. A bagel. But your kid, well, you negotiate with your kid. Again.

“What else do you think you might like to be, honey?” Animals are great. Cats and bats and mice and rats, lions and tigers and bears. All those glorious genderless costumes! GV kids can be weirdly obsessive about things beyond gender; your kid may want to go as his Nintendo DS  (in pink of course.) or a Pokemon.

In the end, you find the compromise, that makes your kid (mostly) happy, that keeps your kid (relatively) safe. And you’ll try not to regret, letting him go too far; or not far enough.

For my family, for Oscar, where we live, in our East Coast Oz, our shining city on the river, there was never any question. He was a princess. He was a witch. Blossom the Powerpuff Girl. He was Hello Kitty. And, after the Day The World Didn’t End, that pink Hello Kitty skirt, those white tights, weren’t a costume any more. He wore them to school whenever he wanted.

We got away with it.

Of course, when he became Harry Potter, and a compelling one at that, his waist long girl hair concealed, everyone was bemused. OH! So we’re a boy now are we! Shades of Victor Victoria. And then, Picichu? The electric yellow Pokemon with the clown circle cheeks? What the hell gender is that damn thing?

What will this child become next?

As always the answer, unsatisfying and true, is only—

Wait and see. Wait and see.

Wait.

And.

See.

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The Fear

October 14, 2009

During the heady days of the Clinton administration, when our worst national nightmare was consensual adultery, before 9/11, before the drumbeat of global warming, during that first flush of enthusiasm for the internet, we had two kids. We arrived at the decision to have them almost wordlessly. I was making foolish amounts of money, my [...]

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Tomgirls vs. The Thing Without A Name

September 28, 2009

It is perhaps the only way in which being female is easier than being male. A young girl reaching outside her gender stereotype is encouraged. Sports? Yes! Science and math? Of course! Pants? Short hair? Sure. Oh, there’s a price to pay if she gets too boyish—especially as puberty approaches. She’ll get stuck into a category—tomboy. But even that is seen as transitory—nothing to worry about. Puberty will straighten her out!

If a boy who reaches out for feminine things is ‘encouraged’ social services is notified. Nobody calls social services about a short haired girl in pants.

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