Training Day #3
The days following winter break are usually low energy. It’s dark when you get to work and it’s dark again shortly after leaving. January drags on and February crawls in. As usual, I’m so caught up in the swirl of classroom drama and paperwork that I barely notice what is marked on my calendar. I look and see something blocked off tomorrow, “GET Training, 12-2pm.” For the life of me, I can’t recall what that is. A 2-hour training on a Wednesday in February? Definitely odd. But, it’s a break from the classroom, and I’m relieved for some respite.
Welcome to GET Training
I make my way down to the conference room where the meeting is scheduled to take place. The conference room is a pretty small area, so I’m convinced that when I get there it will turn out to be the wrong location. I get to the room and poke my head in. There are some teachers sitting around the conference table and the Smart Board has something saying GET displayed on it. Apparently, I’m in the right place.
At the head of the table is a smartly dressed woman with short hair and a kind smile. She is interacting with the other teachers as I slide into a seat and get settled in. A minute or two later, the door is closed and we are about to begin. I’m instantly nervous that there are only six other teachers in the room with me and I don’t know a single one of them.
“Hi everyone, my name is Jeanne Stanley, I use the pronouns she/her, and this is part three of the Gender Expansive and Transgender professional development series. So, tell me what stood out to you from the other sessions?”
A teacher across the table from me quickly shared, “The video about the little girl who became a boy, that was powerful.”
There it was, a sucker punch to the gut. Raising Ryland. Transgender training. TWO HOURS.
The tears instantly well up and my chest tightens. I’m not prepared for this. I’m in a room with seven strangers and I feel completely exposed. If I cry in front of them, what will happen? Will they go and tell their friends? How quickly will the gossip spread? Sitting around the oval table, I can’t hide my face without drawing attention to myself. I focus on my breathing and try to wipe my tears away before they stream down my face. I’m sure it is bright red by now. It always betrays me by showing every emotion.
There’s some discussion about the Raising Ryland video and about the students who presented during the second session. I listen and nod without making eye contact, not daring to utter a word for fear of losing it. The conversation is soon steered toward the goal of today’s session, which leads us to direct our attention, mercifully, to the Smart Board at the other end of the room.
Gender, Sex, Orientation, and Expression
We go through several slides that explain the difference between gender, sex, orientation, and expression.
Gender is between the ears.
Sex is between the legs.
Orientation is within the heart.
Expression is how you present yourself to the world.
All four elements are part of a person’s makeup and are not interdependent of one another. Someone can identify as female, have male genitalia, be attracted to females, and dress masculinely. Or they can identify as male, have male genitalia, be attracted to males, and dress femininely. Or can identify as both male and female. Or neither male nor female. There are seemingly endless combinations of these elements.
Cisgender refers to someone whose gender identity corresponds with their sex assigned at birth.
Transgender refers to someone whose gender identify does not correspond with their sex assigned at birth.
I think about these terms and try to reconcile my understanding of what I have always believed they meant and what I am being presented with today. I try to piece it together. According to this information, I am a cisgender, straight woman with feminine expression. I turn the new concepts around in my mind and feel flustered. I want this to make sense and be easily digested, but it’s challenging my preconceived notions and I feel uncomfortable.
Apparently, I’m not the only one.
The male teacher in the room looks confounded by what is being presented. Jeanne holds his hand between hers and says, “Don’t worry, we will get through this together!” She’s smiling earnestly and I can feel her passion for this topic emanating from her. I decide in that moment to approach her at the end of the session.
The End of the Training
After two hours of information, my head is swimming. I’m considering what we learned about microaggressions and macroaggressions. I’ve never heard these terms before, but they make complete sense. I think back to things I have said and done and wonder how many microaggressions I have done without realizing it. It’s uncomfortable to think about, but I guess that’s the point. Once you know, you need to do better. Once you know, you need to reflect on what you’ve done so you understand why it was wrong and don’t do it again. Growth is the goal.
The session ends and the teachers gather their things and say their goodbyes. I take my time in packing up so I am the last one left in the room. I walk over to Jeanne and say, “I’d like to show you something.” I hold up my phone and show her the picture of Allie in her holiday outfit. And then I start to cry.
Jeanne smiles and says, “Oh my! How handsome!”
Through tears, I explain to her that I think my daughter is transgender and how confusing it is for me and my family.
She says, “I noticed you were very quiet during the meeting and I didn’t want to push you because of that. I wasn’t sure why, but now I understand. The important thing to know is that your kid is going to be okay. I am here to support you as you go through this.”
I feel instant relief to be speaking to someone who gets it, someone who won’t question what is happening and why I am letting it happen. We talk a little about where Allie goes to school and what the process has been like so far. She again tells me that I can reach out to her if and when I need to.
The bell rings and I have to get to class, so I take a deep breath, wipe my face, and thank her. The thank you doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s all I can get out. Jeanne gave me the gift of knowledge and support, and even though I still feel like I’m in a free fall, I now know that I have a parachute to help me land.