A Transitioning Perspective

I am not a trans person, which means I am not only unqualified, I’m incapable of presenting or explaining their experience. What I can do is listen. I can also try and articulate what I’m learning in hopes that we can all try to understand together. To me, listening and understanding are amoung the greatest of values, right up there with love, kindness, and compassion. And really, isn’t it the least we can do for our fellow human beings to at least try and understand?

Permit me to pause just for a second here to quote a movie. I’m sure you’re used to me doing this by now. Most of the time I’m having fun with them, but there are some that hold deep meaning for me, and one that has stuck with me for most of my life is from (1962). In it, Atticus says to Scout, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” (Try not to think of Buffalo Bill in here…). His statement is something that I think just about all of us would agree with in our minds, but we don’t often incorporate it in our own actions.

Which brings me to this exercise. How can I understand the experience of a trans person where I have never been one myself? It sounds very foreign to me, which is not surprising considering my own sexual identity as well as the context of the society I grew up in.

There are a number of factors that encouraged me to try and understand, but one of the biggest was suicide amoung teenagers. I was a youth pastor for 17 years, and I made caring about the youth of our culture a matter of both professional and personal interest. One day I’d heard the disturbing fact that a teenager is four times as likely to commit suicide if s/he is LGBTQ+. You can’t hear that and not be affected by it.

I was aware of the factors that contributed to this: bullying, parental and familial abandonment, community rejection, etc. All were (and are) done to the extreme, even leading to murder in some cases. On top of this, it is a miserable existence to try and survive by denying one’s true self to please other people out of paralyzing fear.

Understanding just how heartbreaking this would be, imagine how much harder it would be if a woman knew from the time she came of age that she was a woman, but was trapped in a male body. Imagine having to make yourself act and behave like someone you aren’t? I say with certainty, that if I was made to wear dresses when I was ten and expected to marry a man at 18-20, I would feel scared. Wretched. Lonely. I don’t know how I could possibly survive that.

In an effort to prevent suicides, people have studied grown adults who’ve survived, many who have transitioned. And they all would say two things: 1) that there was a definite time in life (usually somewhere around puberty) when they started to realize that there was something very different about them; and 2) that they wish someone was there to tell them it was ok to be who they were and enjoy life as they were.

Here in New Brunswick there is a lot of debate going on about the education system and its response to this. What should a teacher do if a child comes forward and says that they believe they are the wrong gender and would rather go by a different name? Some get angry and believe that kids are being encouraged to change their identity to anything they’d like, including animals or inanimate objects. That they are keeping this all away from parents in an attempt to undermine their authority and create a generation of kids getting sex changes and lying to their parents.

Strangely enough, I do believe I can share some insight from my own experience:

When I was in the Inter School Christian Fellowship group in my high school, in one of the first meetings I ever attended there was a discussion about a teenage girl at another school. She had recently made a decision to become a Christian, and according to her, her parents were vehemently opposed to the Christian faith. So much so, she feared they would punish her unfairly, possibly even kicking her out of the house. I’m not sure if this was true about her parents, but we were all discussing if it was ok for her to not tell them about her newfound faith. It is interesting to note that none of us were arguing for—much less thinking about—the parents’ “right now know.” We only thought about whether or not she was being ashamed of Jesus by being silent. There was also concern expressed for her safety. I also remember the end of the discussion where we all agreed that it was ok for her to not tell for now. And I grew up in a church that taught children that a Christian’s identity is in Christ.

The parents should know? Yes, they should. But they should find out when their child feels safe enough to share it with them. If my son or daughter chose to tell me something deeply personal, I may be disappointed that they didn’t feel safe talking to me about it earlier, but I want to believe that I would choose to understand.

As for our movie of the week, we have a true crowd pleaser. One that my wife and I both think is the best whodunit ever put to screen.

Congratulations This is your week.

Best Actress:

Judy Comer as Marguerite de Carrouges in

Best Actor: Barry Keoghan as George in

Best Quote: “You have a regurgitative reaction to mistruthing.” – Daniel Craig as Benoit Blanc in

One of the few documentaries I’ve watched this year was . If you watch it, you will know Will, as everyone does. It’s Will Ferrell. Harper, you won’t likely know. She was a writer for Saturday Night Live for decades, as a man. It was only recently that she chose to transition.

You may have strong feelings, one way or the other, on this; but, if you want to listen, this movie would be a good place to start. Again, I don’t suggest this so that you’ll change your mind. I suggest it because it’s listening.