Judgment
From the day we are born we
are all judged. Ten fingers, ten toes, your kid is alright. Sadly the
future holds a continuation of this innocuous judgment into a world
of pity, ridicule, finger pointing, blame, anger and cruelty.
Sometimes people don't “mean it” in a bad way. Unfortunately,
those same people will often talk in whispers to others behind our backs about what
they think about a situation, trying to drum up support to justify
their own judgment. Look out though, they will also react with
intense viciousness if that finger of judgment is pointed back at
them.
Our first real experience of
judgment as parents came shortly after our children were born. Having
twins gives you a status like no other, and going anywhere with a
double stroller you immediately become a magnet for those that want
to see our duo of cuteness. Often times they were older women, and
not to sound as if I am judging, but our experience taught us
they could be the most judgmental of everyone. They would approach
with a glint in their eye, joy in their step and the one word
question of “Twins?”. Then they would see Conner. Conner was born
with a complete unilateral cleft lip and palate, and at over 10mm
wide, it was hard to miss. The wheels start turning, and inevitably
you would get the “They can do such wonderful things now.”,
dripping with pity for our family. We also had those that would try
to assign a reason for it happening: What did the parents do, did the
mother have too much coffee, whose fault is it? What they didn't
realize is that it didn't matter why it happened. What mattered was how we would take care of
our child. We took him to the Mayo clinic, found the best surgeon, a
fantastic team, and wonderful care. Unfortunately, people rarely
judge us on that choice, because it is so much easier to judge bad
things.
Our life continued normally,
as much as it could with having 4 surgeries in a year, and the
physical and emotional toll it took on all of us. Following that
year, outside of the occasional doctors visit, our kids grew, their
personalities began to develop, and we became smarter parents. The
kids were at work with us every day, had a great early childhood teacher that
came in once a week, and got to grow up around our group home
residents. Later on, we began to send them to a daycare for ½ days,
and their little personalties started getting bigger. That is when
things began to change.
Hayden, shortly after
turning two, began to like dolls, pink clothes, and had traditionally
feminine interests. We offered other toys, clothes, and other
traditionally masculine activities, but Hayden wasn't happy with
those options. Hayden would come home from daycare, strip out of the
boys clothes that were worn that day, and create one of the many
dress outfits from an imagination that wouldn't stop. It would be one
of my big shirts, one of the kids little shirts over the top, a
blanket for hair, mom's toe socks as elegant gloves, transforming Hayden into a happier person. Hayden got to pretend to be a girl.
Being a father, I was concerned, at first. This concern was not born
from embarrassment, or giving into gender stereotypes of what Hayden
should play with, but my fear for how others would treat my child, of
how they would judge Hayden.
Because of living in a world
of judgment, Hayden had an edge, an intensity surrounding wanting to
be a girl, but being born a boy. The fancy term for this is gender
dysphoria. Hayden's body did not match Hayden's mind. When people would
comment on how I had a beautiful daughter, Hayden would quickly jump
in with the canned phrase developed to explain the love of all things
feminine: “Sometimes boys like boy stuff, sometimes boys like girl
stuff, sometimes girls like girl stuff, sometimes girls like boys
stuff.” It worked, for a little while. Hayden was able to justify
to the outside world, to answer their judgments of why a biologically
male child would want to play with Barbies and wear dresses.
Hayden was finding a place
in a world that judges children by the toys they played with, or the
clothes they wear. That world included random public, family,
friends, staff at our business, the residents we care for, and the
friends that Hayden made. You would hear things like “If it was my
kid, I would beat it out of them” or “If you spent more time with
Hayden he would be more of a man”. People assume that this was our
doing, that we were crazy liberals creating a cause, or that we
wanted a son and a daughter. This horribly ignorant attitude is what
has lead children as young as 1st grade to cut themselves,
and an almost 40% suicide rate in people who are transgender.
The ignorance that we see
and feel around our family is unfortunate. Most of the time, people
are unwilling to learn about what it means to be a kid like Hayden,
falling back on preconceived notions and ideas that hold no more
truth than when people thought the earth was flat. It is worse when
people try and drag religion into the argument, claiming knowledge of
what God or Jesus thinks about the whole idea. Because they used persona religious beliefs, any disagreement we had was met with a smugness that I have never understood. Recently I spoke to a
transgender woman whose step-grandmother had condemned her in the
name of God. She even went so far as to go to the minister at her
church, where the transgender woman's actual grandmother also
attended, to get validation for her godly proclamations and
condemnation. Following her ranting and bible quoting, the minister
turned to her and said that as far as he saw it, the bible didn't
actually support her. Furiously she left, so convicted in her beliefs
that she continues to condemn.
I have watched my children
grow, and got to know them as people. I have experienced the joy in
their faces and hearts when they able to do what they love, and be who they
are. I see the excitement from Conner when he is able to use his
incredible intelligence while devouring new books well beyond his age, blowing me away with math skills, memorizing some
incredible facts, building with Legos and in Minecraft, or
finding ways to be creative in the kitchen. I see Hayden's creativity, artistic, and design sense, getting up early on Saturdays to watch Sell This House, and then staging our home. I remember the first time
Hayden got a real dress, how excited she became, and how it just, well, fit. I remember our first time shopping at the store in the girls department,
and how at ease she was being herself. I remember when we got the
news that she could join girl scouts, and how much happiness she has
found in a group of friends that accepts who she has always been. I got
to see her pride in selling 1112 boxes of cookies, 650 more than the
next girl in our town. This is thanks in part to her hard working mom
and a lot of people who don't judge Hayden for what is in between
her legs, but who she is in her heart and mind.
We live in a society of
judgment, and it is tough to escape from its trap. We are
working very hard as parents to teach our kids not to judge, to not
treat people badly because they are different than we are, or to
decide if we like someone based on superficial trappings. We are
working hard ourselves to break the habit of judgment in our own
lives. Being under such intense scrutiny will do that to a person.
Hopefully other people will do this too. Take the time to get to know
a person, before you judge them. Don't assume that just because a
person looks a certain way, dresses a certain way, or lives a certain
way that it is bad. Don't tell me that I need to raise my children
differently because you don't agree with it, or you think we need to
“keep them safe”, because others will treat them badly for being
themselves. I refuse to let the bad behavior and judgment of others
to dictate how I, my children, or my family live our lives. If you
forget everything else, remember this............
Judge
Not Lest Ye Be Judged.
