Letter to a Former Student

Dear C.,

I was delighted when you reached out to connect with me on social media recently. I had not expected to ever hear from any of my former students again.  I have always regretted that I never had the opportunity to say good-bye to you all; never had the chance to offer any explanation as to why I didn’t return to teach that fall, when I had left you in May with the expectation that I would. I wonder what you all thought of my sudden disappearance. I wonder what the school had to say about it, if anything. I suspect they tried to hush up the whole situation. I wonder whether the replacement they found for me in German class was any good. Surely they couldn’t have been as much fun as my classes were! Did they ever find a new Russian teacher?

Given the conservative religious nature of the school, I frankly didn’t expect to hear from any of you again. I don’t exactly fit the worldview that most of you were raised in. That was one of the school’s concerns, that I might “corrupt” you all by introducing you to alternate ways of life. What they didn’t realize is that I’d been doing that all along. It’s impossible to learn another language and study the culture(s) surrounding that language without being introduced to alternate ways of understanding and interacting with the world. I wasn’t on a mission to “convert” you to be transgender, or gay, or bisexual, or anything at all. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to, because that’s not how it happens. Had I been given the opportunity to stay, I would have continued to teach you with the same enthusiasm and knowledge I always had. I just would have done it from a place of authenticity. I wouldn’t have been able to hide that from you, and when the school told me I would have to, I knew I couldn’t stay.

When you told me that you had found my blog and been following my journey, I was deeply touched. I can imagine a lot of possible responses to learning that your former teacher is transgender. That you would choose to engage with my story and to reconnect with me says a lot about you, and greatly encourages me. I would love to have the opportunity some day to sit down and have a long conversation over coffee, or whatever you prefer to drink.

I’m so glad that you are doing well. I had my concerns for you when you let go of your passion for ice skating, and I’m glad you’ve found new interests to invest yourself in. I was always amazed that you were able to maintain your academic schedule while working out and rehearsing so intensely. You were certainly the only student I ever had who attended class from the ice skating arena! It was such a great pleasure to teach you and your sister. Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorite students, but frankly, you were both always among my favorites. I think it’s safe to acknowledge that now. Not that it helped you any when I was grading your work! You got the same treatment that everyone did. Are you taking any German classes at college?

I look forward to following your journey now, even as you follow mine. I wish you all the best and am confident you will achieve your goals, because you have focus and determination. If you are ever in Southern Arizona, I hope you will take the chance to get together for that cup of coffee. Give my greetings and love to your sister. I wish her all the best as well.

Sincerely,

Frau Carmichael, but call me Andrea now. We can leave the formality behind.

Seven Weeks Before Surgery

Seven weeks from tomorrow I will enter the hospital for the surgery that will radically transform my life. As that day draws nearer, people often ask me how I’m feeling. I answer that I am filled with anticipation, but also with nervousness. I don’t know how to explain to someone who is not transgender what it feels like to anticipate waking up for the first time in one’s life with a body that matches who one is. I am so eager to look in the mirror and not feel shame at the body I see. I hope for a day when I will meet a special someone and be totally comfortable with her physically. Right now I would struggle to do that. The body I live in daily is a foreign object to me. I am largely content with the rest of my appearance. But the discrepancy between who I am and the anatomical parts I received at birth is a constant reminder that I’m not whole yet. In a few short weeks that will change. That excites me.

However, the impending surgery awakens anxiety as well. This will be a huge transformation, physically and emotionally. This is not a simple procedure. The recovery process scares me. I don’t expect it to be easy. I don’t enter this with rose-colored glasses, thinking it’s all going to be champagne and roses. It’s going to be difficult, painful and ugly at times. It’s going to require all my inner strength to get through, along with a significant amount of strength from my friends.

Those friends have alleviated my deepest fear: that I would go through this process alone. Nothing has scared me more from the moment I began thinking about this than the prospect of facing it alone. A couple times I have doubted that the support I desire would be there. But you, my friends, have proven me wrong time and again. Just this week I learned that I would need to remain in Scottsdale two days longer than I had originally thought – leaving me with a gap in my support. Yesterday I asked a friend if she would come and be with me. Her immediate and unhesitant affirmation testified to her care and reminded me of the amazing friends I am blessed with. Knowing that I have a group of friends by my side through this process gives me tremendous peace. They know that I will be heavily dependent on them, and they have gladly committed to be there. How can I adequately express my appreciation? I trust that other friends will come visit me, in the hospital, in the days afterwards when I’m convalescing, and when I return home and will benefit from continued support. I am a fortunate woman.

I am not yet where I hoped to be financially. My first significant payment looms next week, followed a short two weeks later by the second payment. I’m going forward in full confidence that this will happen, one way or another. When I look at the generosity of my friends and larger community already, I am humbled and grateful. I appreciate so deeply all who have contributed, who are helping me achieve a dream that I never imagined would be possible. It’s not far now.

I’ll continue to check in as surgery day draws near, and look forward to sharing with you post-op as well.

If you can help me reach my financial goal, you can do so through the link below, or contact me directly if you’d prefer another means.

https://www.gofundme.com/andreastransformation

A World Without Gender?

While reading in the book The Feminist Utopia Project recently, I encountered these words in an interview with Melissa Harris-Perry in response to the question “Do you have any specific images or details for what would happen in your utopia and the ways in which it would be different from our world?” She responsed:

“Sometimes people offer the vision of a ‘post-racial’ world as one that is ideal. I think a world without race is not desirable. It does not sound like a utopia to me!”

Her words prompted me to clarify my own thinking in regard to gender. Many people in the transgender community, as well as some outside it, envision a world without gender. They see the difficulties and challenges that gender identity can pose. They consider the discrimination and exclusion, the abuse and violence that people face because their gender doesn’t align with the label assigned to them at birth. They recognize that being anything other than a cisgender male makes one “less-than” in any number of ways, often compounded upon one another. They believe, as a result, that the solution to the problem is to do away with the idea of gender altogether. Each person would then be free to be who he/she/they/zir/sie… is/are without concern for navigating the labels male and female.

I don’t agree. Much like Harris-Perry and race, I don’t think a world without gender is a utopia. I acknowledge immediately that I write from the perspective of a transgender woman who is 100% comfortable with both of those labels. In fact, I would be untrue to myself to consider or describe myself as anything but female. I like the differences between male and female. I don’t consider a world in which those differences disappear to be ideal. I definitely find I have much more in common with others who are female-identified than I do with those who are male-identified. My female friends and I are by no means monochrome, but we are all, in a fundamental way that is difficult to explain, female, and we know it.

This is not to say that I think gender must be limited to male and female. While I do not personally identify outside of that binary, I know many people who do. I don’t desire or intend to imply that they must force themselves to live within the binary. They should have full freedom to understand, interpret and express their gender in the manner that suits them. I only ask that in doing so they don’t erase the idea that many of us are male or female. If gender were to be erased, my very identity would be as well, which is no more just than for me or anyone to erase the identity of those who are not male or female. Our understanding of gender should include male, female and a spectrum of other possibilities.

As a female, and a transgender one at that, I am painfully aware of the power imbalance and host of injustices that women face relative to men. As someone who is not non-binary, I cannot personally relate to what that feels like for those who do not identify as either male or female, though I imagine it can be extremely painful. The solution isn’t to erase gender altogether. The solution is to create a society in which these power imbalances are eliminated and all people have full and equal access to opportunity and meaningful lives regardless of their gender. This is a huge order. It requires us to dismantle the patriarchal power structures that have dominated society since the beginning of time, those structures that favor cisgender men, particularly white ones. I think we are seeing hints of progress in this regard, despite the backlash which we are currently suffering. I will have the audacity to dream of, and work for, a world in which people do not face discrimination, violence, exclusion, and rejection based on their gender identity, nor on any other aspect of their identity – a society in which gender has not disappeared, but in which all genders are celebrated and welcome.

Finding My Way Out of the Darkness

In my last post, I shared my struggle with depression. I’d like to write tonight and tell you that all is resolved, but that wouldn’t be true. However, I deeply appreciate all who have sent words of support, encouragement, affirmation, and recognition that I am not the only one who struggles with it. As I wrote, in the midst of depression one of the things I feel in particular is isolated and alone. You all helped me remember that I am not.

I am in a better place now than I was. I have worked hard to practice good self-care. On New Year’s Day, feeling particularly down, I decided to get outdoors and take a walk in the beautiful sunshine. It helped so much, at least in that moment. Today I had the opportunity to take a dance class with one of my dearest friends, who is also an amazing dance teacher, while she was in town for a visit. Although my schedule made it really tight, I’m so glad I made the time for it. Getting back to dance class reminds me how much dance helps me stay centered and healthy, both mentally and physically.

I also made time to see my therapist. Yes, I see a therapist, though I had taken a break for a while. This too can be seen as something shameful to admit, but I am glad I did it. Talking with her was very helpful. I appreciate the friends who strongly encouraged me to take this step, as I had hesitated due to the cost. Sometimes you have to set that issue aside and do what you need to take care of yourself.

I’ve also had opportunity to connect again with several friends. I cannot overemphasize the importance of connection with other people. Without that, I’d truly be in a dark place. The lack of that in the past month was part of what spurred this depression, and the renewal of good connection is helping to lift it. We’re not meant to deal with life totally on our own. I want to share the words I spoke in the November Female Storytellers show. They are appropriate here as well:

“Often we don’t comprehend the impact of our involvement with others in our lives. The smallest action, the simplest deed, the most basic word of affirmation, can be life-transforming. Persisting in the face of adversity [or depression] requires not only personal strength. It requires the strength of community. We matter to one another, and we need to express that to those around us regularly. We are told we need to be strong, independent women, and I totally agree with that. But strength isn’t just internal. Strength comes from being connected to others. It comes from asking for help when we need it, and offering it when able. We are not in this alone. I stand before you tonight because someone stood with me when I needed it, not just that September weekend, but many times. I want to return that gift to others. I hope each of us will give that gift to those around us. We don’t have to persist alone. We’re not meant to persist alone. Our strength is in connection and community.”

I haven’t beat depression. Maybe I never will, but I will try to be honest about what I’m feeling and reach out for help when I need it. I don’t want to hide this issue any more. 

Hello darkness, my old friend

I’ve been quiet the past month largely because I’ve been struggling with depression. There, I said it. I have hesitated to publicly acknowledge this. It feels like depression is a topic people don’t want to hear about, especially during the holiday season. After all, who wants their holiday cheer disrupted by someone’s dark cloud? At least, that’s how it feels. You look around and everyone else seems to be enjoying the season, spending time with family and loved ones, and there you are, struggling day by day to keep going.

I have hesitated to share about this as well because, frankly, it’s not how I want people to perceive me. I don’t want to be thought of as the woman who struggles at times with depression. I want to be seen as a strong, confident, successful woman who is actively creating and transforming her life. I am those things. I am also someone who finds herself depressed at times. They are not mutually exclusive. I would not want to be defined by this one aspect of my life. Neither do I want to pretend that it doesn’t exist. This is, after all, a blog in which I have strived to practice vulnerability.

Depression is still loaded with a lot of stigma and shame. I see so many memes and comments on social media that instruct us to just adopt a positive mindset and all will be well. If only it were that easy. Those who have not dealt with depression really have no clue what it’s like to live under the grey heaviness that settles on you – at least that’s how depression feels to me. It’s not that everything is bad, necessarily. But even the good things in life become shrouded in a fog.

The holiday season has been particularly difficult for me, prompting the spiral into depression. I have felt rather isolated and alone. Yes, I have family nearby and yes, I did spend time with them, for which I am thankful. But the dynamic with them is a difficult one for me, for complex reasons. I love them, and I believe they love me, but despite that I do feel like the odd one out much of the time; the single, divorced, queer transgender family member whom everyone (mostly) is trying to accept but whom no one can really understand. They have a lifetime of seeing me as someone else and are still coming to terms with who I am.

Which is a key reason I lean heavily on my friends. They may not understand my exact experience, but they only know me as me. They do not have to navigate, or replace, an old lens. But my friends have busy lives, and families, and during the holiday period they become intensely focused on that and their holiday activities. It feels like I become invisible. I remind myself, frequently, that this is just a perception and not reflective of the relationships, but it is something I feel. Since one of my primary means of self-care is to spend time with friends, their absence becomes particularly acute when I’m in a season of depression.

Mixed in with all this is the societal narrative that our happiness is tied up with having a spouse, partner or significant other to spend the holidays (and life in general) with. The holidays are promoted as a time to spend with the one you love, or perhaps those you love. But what do you do when those you love are your friends, who have their own spouses, partners and loved ones with whom they will spend the holidays? Where does that leave us single people? I don’t think I’m the only single person who feels like she fades into the background during this season, though maybe I am. I’m still coming to terms with singleness. I acknowledge that. It has not been easy for me, and the holiday season has made it particularly difficult.

I appreciate those who have made time and space for me during this season. I don’t usually name people, but today I want to single out Brenna and Vi, who invited me to join them on a walk to look at Christmas lights. And Christine, who invited me to join her family on Christmas Eve and with whom I spent a lovely evening on New Year’s Day. I think also of Magda, and Leslie, who’ve allowed me to cry on their shoulders, either literally or figuratively. And Chandra, whose crazy life as a med student kept us from getting together for months until last week. You all have provided vital light in a difficult season and I deeply appreciate you.

I don’t think I’m the only one who struggles with depression, particularly during the holiday season. I suspect that many others, like myself, chose to suffer in silence because they don’t feel they can interrupt the holiday cheer. I want to change that narrative. I hope that by sharing my own struggle others might find encouragement in theirs. You are not alone, even if you feel you are. And if you need to reach out to someone, I’d be glad to make space for you.

Happy New Year. May there be light in your darkness and may you be wrapped in love.