So I outed my kid today…

I talked to Jeremy yesterday afternoon, reminding zir that our church prides itself on being a welcoming congregation and as such are likely to make an effort to refer to Jeremy by the right pronouns. Jeremy agreed and thought they should know… some day. So I offered to be the one to tell them during pebbles of joy and concern, explaining that I would say what non-binary trans is and explain zir pronouns and how to use them in a sentence.

Jeremy swivelled a bit on zir bus seat. Like usual, we had our conversation in the middle of public transit. “Mom? When’s the next youth group meeting?” zie asked.

I thought back to the newsletter. “This coming Friday,” I replied after a moment’s thought.

“Can you tell them before the next meeting?”

That pretty much left today.

One thing to realize is claiming I’m not a social person is akin to saying a tornado is a type of wind storm; it’s technically true but doesn’t come anywhere near describing the magnitude of the situation. The only other announcement I’ve ever done was about a year ago, explaining why my kids and I were boycotting Jelly Belly jelly beans. We’ve been attending this congregation for thirteen years now and today brings my total number of announcements up to two.

My bus was a bit late. I’d hoped to slip inside to quickly use the washroom and get a drink of water before the service began, instead I discovered the announcements had already started. I quickly grabbed a seat.

I should explain “pebbles of joy and concern” as I’m pretty sure it’s a distinctly Unitarian Universalist tradition. It’s often referred to as candles of joy and concern but some congregations, like ours, switched to placing pebbles in water instead of lighting candles due to waste issues and insurance policies. Basically it’s a time for every member of the congregation, from toddler age on up, to go to the front and express something of “special significance” in their life. I figured Jeremy coming out as trans would count.

Jeremy's pebble is blue and Lenny's is clear... I'm not sure which ones beyond that.

Jeremy’s pebble is blue and Lenny’s is clear… I’m not sure which ones beyond that.

I was reasonably sure I wasn’t having a heart attack as I already had heart issues ruled out with an EKG. Which is good because nothing makes panic suck more than wondering if you’re really going into cardiac arrest and simply ignoring it as anxiety.

It was finally time to get up for the pebbles. I took the long way around, figuring there’d be several people beating me to the front (like usual) but I was first and almost every seat was full. I got about halfway through my brief explanation when I realized the words were getting really hard to force out. Oh right… I needed to breathe.

One of the teenagers nodded through my announcement. I wasn’t sure if it simply wasn’t a surprise or if she was agreeing with my explanation. Someone else said thanks as I walked back to my seat. And otherwise it was a non issue. One elderly lady wanted clarification on the pronouns and the Religious Education teacher is going to update the child and youth forms so they aren’t strictly male and female. The rest of the conversations were on Avaaz, a climate change protest in New York next weekend, and the coffee… pretty standard UU fare.

And the RE teacher used Jeremy’s pronouns when talking about the forms.

I’m hoping this will work. Our speaker today (Lynn Harrison) is an aspiring minister and amazing singer/songwriter. She sang an absolutely gorgeous original song today and I just found it on her website. Now to see if I can embed an MP3 here…

Woo hoo… it worked. Enjoy :)

A family visit and weekend musings…

We had a family dinner today and both my Mom and I were panicking for different reasons. My Mom was worried because this was the first dinner since Emma moved out (after a deadline was set for her to leave) and she didn’t know if dinner would end up being awkward or tense. I was worried because my parents don’t know about Jeremy’s indefinite suspension from school and I couldn’t figure out a way to tell them. Jeremy wasn’t exactly a sweet and innocent victim to begin with and, once Jeremy’s panicked reason to refuse those ballet stretches was removed, zie comes across as a complete asshole.

I could already hear the conversation, starting with shock that zie didn’t just do the stretch because “it wasn’t going to kill him” then moving on to horror that zie argued with the principal. I know where Jeremy’s coming from because zie doesn’t sit alone with zir thoughts ever. I love going for long walks in the woods, with nothing but nature sounds and my own thoughts. Jeremy can’t handle a two minute wait for the bus on zir own without music or a video game. Twenty minutes to an hour of sitting in an office with nothing to do but flip through a magazine would have been torture. My parents’ reaction would have been to suck it up and deal because zie’s seventeen. I agree that Jeremy needs to learn ways of coping with zirself without panicking; I just don’t feel sucking up’s going to work well. Leaving school when feeling stressed was part of Jeremy’s safety plan last year but I know my parents would be on the “just suck it up” bandwagon there too. School’s not stressful… just deal.

This would end up as an hour of listening to how horrible Jeremy is and how zie’ll never have a job or any sort of normal life, which makes for an awful visit. So I decided it was not happening. Of course I screwed up dismally when I decided this because I forgot Jeremy was not involved in my internal frettings and conversation.

“Okay, so it didn’t happen,” I blurted. “No indefinite suspension… no leaving school.”

“Really?” Jeremy said hopefully. “You mean I can go back on Monday? It’s all done?”

Crap! Talk about feeling two centimeters tall.

“Oh sorry hon,” I explained. “I meant we aren’t telling Nana and Grandad about the suspension. As far as they know you’re still going to school and everything’s fine.”

“Oh,” came zir quiet reply.

I shrugged and gave Jeremy a half smile. “We’re already keeping a huge secret from them anyways. What’s one more?” Zie grinned back.

Mom was waiting at the front door, watching for us as we walked down the street. She had pop chilling in the fridge, a vegan casserole in the oven (alongside the meat one) and Jeremy’s favourite ice cream bars in the freezer. Dad reclined in the chair in the living room and greeted us as we walked inside. Emma and Mark arrived a short while later.

We had one brief mishap. Jeremy was chatting in the kitchen with my Mom when I heard her voice raise.

“…those sort of things are not talked about at school,” she explained. “It might be fine to talk about gender at church but school’s different. They have to be neutral and gender is simply not acceptable to discuss. The teachers shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like that…”

“They’re mandated by law to deal with gender issues,” I commented as I walked into the room. Jeremy stood silent. I figured zie’d probably brought up the topic to test the waters. It obviously hadn’t worked well.

“It’s something better kept private and not mentioned in school at all,” she retorted. “It’s not school appropriate.”

“Jeremy? Emma was looking for you. I think she had something to show you.” I hoped Emma would play along.

“Really?” Jeremy turned and hurried out. I followed.

Emma wasn’t downstairs at all, she’d gone to use the washroom. The poor kid opened the door to find both of us standing right there. Jeremy was all excited because zir sister had something to share while I was winking so quickly it probably looked like I was having some sort of seizure.

“Nana was talking about gender with Jeremy,” I quickly explained. “I said you had something to show zir.”

She stared at me with more than a little irritation. “I don’t have anything to show. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know,” I hissed. “It was an excuse. Find something.”

“Maybe that box of electronics,” Jeremy said hopefully.

“But I don’t know where it is,” she wailed.

“It’s an excuse,” I stressed. “It doesn’t matter if you know where it is.” I finally saw the lightbulb turn on and they headed off to Emma’s old room.

The rest of the light went wonderfully. We chatted and laughed about a variety of subjects including a long discussion regarding a giant chicken mobile on a farm north of here.

“This dinner went so well,” my Mom said happily as we said our goodbyes. And it did.

I uploaded my pictures when we got home and shared a photo from our family dinner on Facebook. It’s one of the rare good shots of my mother. She has this unusual talent of looking just fine in the viewfinder then looking absolutely horrid in the photo. I’m talking sunken cheeks, half closed eyes, partially open mouth… you name it, it’s happening in the photo and it wasn’t happening half a second earlier. Most times when I share family photos they come with the warning of “my Mom doesn’t actually look like that.” This photo really does look like her. Then I showed Jeremy zir birthday scrapbook page. I used to scrapbook the day I took the pictures; right now I’m three months behind and haven’t printed out a page since February. There is a plus side to my huge whopping delay though.

“See, I used zir on your page,” I pointed out. Jeremy beamed then I closed my scrapbooking program so zie could have the desktop.

“So tomorrow I’m going to out you at church. Is there anything in particular that you want me to say?” I asked then watched as Jeremy nearly spat cereal across the living room.

This was a continuation of a conversation we’d had that afternoon… not something I’d suddenly thrown at zir. I offered to be the one to explain exactly what non-binary trans is then share Jeremy’s preferred pronouns and how to use them in a sentence… which means Jeremy should (hopefully) miss a good chunk of the questions. Zie only goes to the youth group and the occasional potluck so zie won’t be there. Plus we go to a welcoming UU congregation so, presumably, everyone there is likely to at least attempt to use the correct pronouns.

“I can’t think of anything,” Jeremy replied once zie’d swallowed zir cereal and was past the risk of choking. “I’m sure you’ll say everything.”

I stink at public speaking. I flipped on the dining room light then watched as Jeremy glared.

“I’m just getting some chocolate then I’ll turn out the lights so you can watch your video.”

“Can you get me some too?” zie asked hopefully.

“It’s dark chocolate,” I warned. Jeremy likes dark chocolate sometimes and hates it other times so a warning is necessary. “I got it from Lenny.”

“The other zir,” Jeremy said with a smile, which quickly widened. “The word zir sounds like an alien. A really super cool alien.”

Also, I don’t actually have a conclusion but I do have two photos I took last night when we walked over to our local greenspace in an attempt to see the Northern Lights. We live in an urban area and, despite the solar storms, were rated for a poor chance of viewing. Chances are the whitish film in the sky was simply clouds reflecting all the city lights but it was still neat. Enjoy :)



Soulless Spawn of Satan, or a Fluffy Ball of Love?


I love my daughter… and her thoughts on cats…
She’s an amazing writer.

Originally posted on Shh... It's me, Emma.:

I hate when people say cats don’t love their humans.
2014-09-09 14.56.20This is my baby; I call him Tiny Cat. That’s not his name, but that’s what I always call him. I call him Tiny Cat (Tiny for short) because a) when we got him he was really tiny, b) he’s the smallest cat I’ve had in ages, and c) his head is actually a lot smaller than you’d think, considering how long he is.

He likes to sit on people’s shoulders, he loves to know what’s going on and that’s the perfect place to do so. It’s also where he goes to hide when he’s scared, at least with me, he likes hiding his face in my neck, under my hair.

2014-09-09 15.12.05

He loves to nap on fuzzy pillows, as long as they’re squishy. If they’re hard, he’d rather just lie on the bed.
He likes to lie with his feet…

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More conversations with Jeremy…

Jeremy and I were walking home from the grocery store, each with an over-stuffed buggy, when Jeremy slowed for a moment.

“Mom? Give me one very important piece of information you’ve learned,” zie said. Zie adjusted the 10lb sack of potatoes (on sale for $1.99!) and turned the cart toward home.

“Underwear on before pants,” I replied promptly. Jeremy stopped and stared at me in disbelief. I simply smiled.

“Umm… well… yes… I guess…” Jeremy finally stammered. “I was expecting ‘The Doctor always lies’.”

I probably haven’t got that far in the series.

Zie gave me another look then continued walking. “Mom, you’re weird.”

I snorted. “Seriously kid, you’re only just figuring this out now?”

“And annoying,” zie added.

“I’m not annoying,” I replied. “You’d miss me if I wasn’t here. I grow on you… like foot rot.”

“No, more like that gross mould.” Jeremy looked at my expression and backpedaled. “But some people really like mould,” zie assured me.

Yeah, thanks kid.

I just finished a huge argument with Jeremy, who insisted the giant pot of tomatoes needs to come inside and live in our dining room because it’s going to die outside now that it’s getting colder and the tomato plant is growing so much that it’s obviously trying to live and needs to be saved. Meanwhile I was explaining that tomato plants are annual plants and die every winter. We are not keeping a 4ft wide plant in the dining room, just to watch it die. The tomato plant is outside now.

I also just tagged this with foot rot and mould just to see who wanders in with those search terms.
*waves at the confused people*

All out of ideas…

I spent today listening for the phone, jumping every single time it rang because I was that sure it would be Jeremy’s school. It wasn’t like yesterday’s meeting left me with any positive feelings.

At 2:30pm I breathed a sigh of relief. There hadn’t been a call and we had less than a half hour until the end of school, it seemed like Jeremy would make it through the whole day. I was sent home minutes later and double checked my cellphone when I got on the bus. My missed call list was empty. Phew!

I waited until Jeremy would be home before I called because zir bus is about as loud as a jet plane during takeoff… while you’re outside the plane.

“I’m on the second bus home,” I said cheerfully once zie answered. “So, how was your day?”

“It was horrible,” came the immediate reply. “Didn’t the school call? I’ve been home for hours.”

Well shit.

The school definitely hadn’t called. I sat, wedged into the window seat, listening to Jeremy’s rambling and disjointed story. Zie seemed quite positive they hadn’t called me because the EA was probably too embarrassed about how badly she’d behaved but the story zie told painted a different slant entirely. There was something about refusing to do “ballet stretches” in gym and arguing about having a cellphone in zir pocket. Then being in the office and wanting zir netbook and an EA grabbing zir arm and accidentally hitting her with the door. Then she left and Jeremy went home. I had no idea who got hit by a door or what order any of that was in. What I did know was Jeremy had pretty much instigated the whole thing by refusing to do simple stretches in gym class and then demanding the netbook while in the office. The EA shouldn’t have grabbed Jeremy’s arm but that arm wouldn’t have been there if zie’d been in gym playing tennis with everyone else.

“Maybe next time you could simply do the stretches,” I pointed out.

“I guess,” Jeremy replied.

I went to my room almost as soon as I walked in our front door. I wanted a chance to get my thoughts together, to sort out when it was acceptable to ignore the teachers (which would be pretty much never) and when Jeremy needed to buck up and listen (which would be a whole lot more than now). An hour later I didn’t have anything hammered out. I figured I’d get the fries chopped and soaking in cold water then brainstorm ideas with Jeremy.

I’d just cut the last fry when the phone rang. It was Jeremy’s VP. Considering the lateness, I figured it would be the school’s automated attendant calling to let me know zie’d missed half of school today. Having a real live person on the line was a shock.

The  VP told me that Jeremy had refused to do stretching exercises and got sent to the office; this part I’d figured out. Then she said “he’d” insisted on getting and using “his” netbook. She informed Jeremy that zie either had to go back to gym or just wait in the office for twenty minutes until the next period started, the netbook wasn’t an option. She noticed Jeremy was standing but figured if “he” wanted to stand that was “his” choice. That was when she left to go ask the head of special education for ideas. Apparently Jeremy pretty much followed her out the door. Zie wanted to go home and needed to bring the netbook home with zir.

Jeremy’s classroom door was locked because the teacher was working on a lesson plan. That’s something they both agree on. According to the VP, Jeremy started trying to open the door. A teacher noticed “him” there and went to the door. At this point the VP stressed once again that the door was locked, the implication being that Jeremy was being so aggressive with the door that zie managed to open it despite the lock. She said an EA came behind Jeremy and tapped “him” gently on the wrist, just to let “him” know there was a teacher behind the door… but “he” didn’t listen. “He” barged right in, knocking the teacher against the wall and hurting her wrist. She ran off, terrified by “his” aggressive behaviour. But she was fine now.

During this whole conversation she never referred to Jeremy once as “they”. She’d been the first VP I mentioned yesterday, the one who’d sat beside me at the meeting. The one who’d informed me that zie and zir were not acceptable according to board policy but they’d have no problem using the pronoun they for “him”.

Shortly after I walked in our front door, Jeremy referred to zir female teacher as “he”. Zie said if she was going to misgender zir all day long that she could be called by the wrong gender and see what it was like. Obviously this was something that had bothered Jeremy today. As the VP continued talking, I couldn’t help wondering how much of the frustration Jeremy showed that day was brought about by the simple fact they’d refused to listen to zir and had ignored something very important zie’d struggled to bring up for months.

“… talked to the principal and he decided Jeremy cannot come back to school until we’ve set up a meeting and a new safety plan and possibly have a better placement for ‘him’,” the VP continued. “It’s obvious ‘he’ doesn’t feel comfortable in ‘his’ current setting. ‘He’s’ not going to listen to ‘his’ teachers at all; ‘he’ doesn’t seem to have any respect for them. ‘He’ll’ need to stay home until something has been sorted out and we possibly have some options in place to choose from.”

Until something’s been sorted out. In other words, they had no idea when zie’ll be back. I did, however, agree that zie did not feel comfortable there or that the teachers would listen to or respect zir. And sadly, my first emotion when she mentioned the suspension was relief. There was going to be no worries tomorrow about what was happening at school with Jeremy. The cellphone was never mentioned by the VP. I didn’t bother to bring it up.

I got off the phone then called Jeremy into my room, demanding to know what happened. Zie gave me almost the same story, except for adding that zie’d offered to use the netbook to do school work. Which was still a meh on my part but at least zie hadn’t been demanding the right to play Rollercoaster Tycoon. Then came the whole door incident.

“I just wanted to go home,” zie announced, sounding near tears. “I was told the class would be locked but figured I’d try just in case. It was and I’d stepped away from the door when the librarian came over to leave. My teacher yelled for her to close the door but it was open a bit so I figured I’d go inside and grab my stuff. That was when the EA came up behind me and grabbed my wrist. She grabbed it really hard and it hurt. I pulled hard to get away from her and the door opened even wider, hitting the librarian. I was going to say sorry to the librarian but she left right away; my teacher said she was going to file a report. I grabbed my netbook and left. I didn’t even get my backpack.”

“Why didn’t you do the stretches?” I asked. This was my sticking point. If zie’d just done the stretches then nothing would have happened.

Jeremy said they were uncomfortable so I asked zir to show me, which zie finally did. It looked like a perfectly normal stretch to me.

“You must have seen what was wrong with it,” zie insisted. I looked at zir blankly and finally admitted I’d seen nothing.

“Mom. It showed my genitals!” Jeremy was blushing and sounded horribly embarrassed. Then zie burst into tears. “Why do I always get in trouble for everything? It doesn’t matter what it’s for. Asking for more school work… wanting to go home… it’s always me getting in trouble. The EA grabbed my arm and nothing’s happening to her.”

Talk about a collision of errors. Jeremy behaved badly by anyone’s standards but I can’t help but wonder what would have been different if zie’d felt supported and welcome in the school.

So… the meeting…

Well it happened.

The meeting was in a crowded room with five other adults, so I was already feeling overwhelmed when I walked in. There was a brief introduction where I was introduced to everyone in the room… and promptly lost all their names. I was seated beside a vice principal and then there was the head of special education and Jeremy’s teacher (who I already knew) and another vice principal and someone else who took copious notes. I can’t remember her title at all.

I was immediately informed by the first VP that everyone in the meeting was there to support and help Jeremy and that the best way to do so was to make all the decisions first and then tell “him” what we’d decided. I argued vehemently that zie should be involved in the decision making and was overruled.

My first concern was the issue that had been brought up on Friday regarding distractions. Everyone agreed that a stress ball would be fine for Jeremy to use and that even a spinning ring would work. Apparently the issue with having a bag on the floor was that a teacher tripped on a bag last year and fell, which meant she was off work for quite a while. However, they didn’t tell Jeremy this, choosing to detail how students might be carrying weapons or dealing drugs instead. Which at least explains why zie started ranting about how the school should have metal detectors.

This is when I lost it and flipped a proverbial table. They wanted to know if I thought having zir bag of electronics on a nearby table, visible but out of reach, would be an acceptable option. I said that would be best directed to Jeremy and got told no, the adults needed to make these decisions; I needed to decide for “him”. I said that Jeremy was sitting directly outside the meeting room and it would take me maybe 20 seconds, if that, to go ask zir. They didn’t feel that was appropriate. I, once again, explained that it didn’t matter what I thought was a valid option, this plan was being put in place to make Jeremy feel more safe. If zie didn’t think it would work then it wasn’t going to be a help and we’d need to think of something else.

That was when the phone rang and the first VP needed to take a call.

I stood up. “While she’s busy, I’m going to quickly ask Jeremy if this will work for zir.”

I reached for the door just in time to hear someone bark, “No! Michelle, you need to sit back down right now.”

Excuse me? I spun around, swept the room with one glance then said, “No” before walking out. Jeremy was standing talking to an adult. I’d caught zir just as zie was leaving for zir student ID photo. Zie said the bag being visible was fine. I walked back in and said so to the group.

Then came gender. Kind of. I brought it up three times only to be redirected to gadgets, a topic I figured we’d already beaten to death. Nothing new was being discussed, everyone was simply rehashing how obsessive Jeremy was with them and how zie perseverates on them and won’t stop talking or fidgeting with them. Except there wasn’t any resolution to their issues, it was venting and nothing else. I was getting overwhelmed by the negativity. Finally I dragged them onto the gender topic and… nothing.

This is what it says on the school board website…


According to the people at the meeting, those three pronouns are the only ones they can use in the school. Jeremy can’t be addressed as zie/zir because “they” is the only pronoun listed other than he or she. But “he” could go by “she” if “he” wanted; totally ignoring the whole “this list is illustrative but not exhaustive” sentence.

When I tried to bring up other information in the guidelines, I got informed by the second VP that she’d help design the pamphlet and was well aware of what it meant and what they were required to do by law. That it would get too confusing if they had to address every trans student in the whole school by their preferred pronouns, making it sound like there were at least five in each class and they all wanted different pronouns. She hastily assured me this school is the most welcoming school in the area and she knew this as a member of the LGBTQ community. I don’t have a rainbow card to pull but I do have another child, who attended a different high school. Her school had rainbow “positive space” signs everywhere plus Gay Straight Alliance (GSA) notices about every 10 feet down each hallway. My coworker Brian had similar stories about his former high school. In contrast, this is the only notice either Jeremy or I have seen at zir school…


It took us a while to find it, that one lonely little 8.5 by 11 inch sheet on a noticeboard halfway down a hallway. We’d been looking for something bigger, with an actual pride flag. Last year it took us half a year to find the GSA, only to discover no one attends. Jeremy hasn’t asked to join this year. I tried to mention Emma’s school and got cut off and informed the topic had changed.

And so it continued with me referring to Jeremy as zie and zir while everyone else said he and him. At one point the second VP drew boxes on her paper and nudged the lady beside her with a smile, drawing her attention to the paper. My heart sank. Were they really gossiping about myself or my child during the meeting? But no. She’d drawn a box around Jeremy’s name and another box around the word “they” then pointed to both. She was simply reminding the other woman about pronouns. That was one of the only bright spots of the meeting.

They have a work placement set up for Jeremy at the local board office; I believe emptying wastebaskets and taking out recycling. No one in the meeting felt zie’d be there for long. They don’t have any classes available outside the small class setting right now, so Jeremy can’t take any classes that might help with job skills. And there’s no math this semester; instead zir teacher is going to teach simple machines. Her reason? Because she’d been thinking of zir. She cut out zir favourite subject, the one zie argued and pleaded to take more of, in order to teach the class about pulleys and levers. I’m not arguing about the curruculum, simple machines sound very interesting. What irritates me is the claim that she did it for Jeremy. I assured zir we’d work on math at home. If anyone’s got any amazing math websites, please feel free to share them. Goodness knows this is not a subject I can teach.

Two people expressed concern that Jeremy’s gender identity would be a “distraction” because “he” will keep arguing with them when they use the wrong pronoun. I asked if zie’d argued with them over being called “he” before and got told no. They decided zie could keep a tally of their mistakes and bring them up at the end of the class so it wouldn’t be a distraction. They didn’t want “him” bringing it up in the middle of class because an explanation would be too long.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” I pointed out. “All you need to do is say I’m sorry.”

“That would take too long and would be distracting,” she insisted.

“Simply saying I’m sorry would be a distraction?” I asked, in a tone I’ve used on my own kids countless times. Apparently grown adults squirm at that tone too.

“Yes,” she replied. I simply gave her the look.

They wanted to wrap the meeting up right then without bringing Jeremy in because nothing got really decided and maybe we should schedule…

“Jeremy’s been sitting outside waiting this whole time,” I pointed out. “Zie was told fifteen minutes ago that zie’d be allowed inside in five minutes. Plus I had this day off already but I cannot guarantee I’ll have the next day off. Zie needs to come in and hear what’s been discussed.”

They let zir in.

So that’s it. Jeremy’s still being addressed as both he and him while they insist zie can only be referred to as they. The one subject that Jeremy enjoyed will not be back until after Christmas. There are no classes aimed at helping zir find a job zie’d enjoy and they’ve already figured zie’ll tank zir placement. They won’t allow zir a placement outside the school board because zie’s not a good ambassador. They don’t discuss hair colour or nail length at all with Jeremy but when they do, it’s out of a place of genuine concern for “his” wellbeing. They’ve never discussed boys and girls being opposites in the class but, if they did, it would have been an example given by other students and they couldn’t correct them because some of the students are not that bright and it would crush them to have their example corrected. Which isn’t what happened at all but…

I now have a better understanding of Jeremy’s anger issues. And, seriously, if they’re expecting zir to do a tally for every time they misgender zir, I’m going to need to buy zir a bigger backpack and one hell of a large notebook.

Barbies and Building Blocks

Barbies and Building Blocks


I love this poem…

Originally posted on Year of the Dyke:

Ever since childhood

My toys have been mingling

From both sides of the gender spectrum

Building blocks were blue and red

Barbie’s dresses, shades of pink

But when I mixed them both together

Nothing ever felt wrong



My parents bought us all these toys

Wrestlemania figures

Toy horses with shimmering saddles

We did with them as we wished

My brother fought me over a doll

He wanted her to ride his horse

I played Pokemon in a red, gauzy dress

My hair knotted and frizzed from running

Our building block towers, standing tall

Never required a clothing boutique

Nor needed a mechanic’s garage

I played with Hot Wheels racecars

Sent them flying down the stairs and railing

I loved when Barbie wore a leather jacket

She looked better with it on than a dress

I stole a black marker and gave her a goatee

She made it look…

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