I’m a Parent and Trans Advocate, Not a Target for Your Ignorance
And some days I struggle to take the high road.
It’s been a while since someone left me a not-so-nice comment on one of my articles. I suppose I should be grateful for the long respite. But I think because most of my readers are open-minded, thoughtful, caring people, it comes as a bit of a shock when I read one of those dreaded responses only an ignorant asshat would write.
Sometimes I respond back, sometimes I don’t. My decision is usually based on whether or not I think the reader is simply baiting me for an argument, or if I believe they’re merely ignorant and might be open to something else I say. Once in a while, they hit a nerve and I wonder how long it will take before technology allows us to throat-punch someone on the other side of the world via the internet. This is one of those times.
I’m not typically a violent person, nor usually a negative one. I feel like negativity is one of those rabbit holes a person could easily fall into and wind up in Wonderland if they’re not careful. And then I’d need to decide whether or not to eat this or drink that. So I try to avoid negative conversations, people, experiences, and media as much a possible.
I suppose that’s why it hurts when I find a reader has left a nasty little piece of opinion on something I’ve taken my thoughtful time and energy creating — especially a piece about my transgender son.
I still haven’t decided whether or not to respond to this most recent comment. I’m leaning toward not, but tomorrow I might wake up with some brilliant idea to communicate how supporting your child’s authenticity is a good thing and not me allowing my kid to “play me like a leaf blowing around with her breath.”
This reader used “her” and “daughter” because he doesn’t understand that I have a son, that I’ve always had a son.
Is his misunderstanding my fault? Isn’t it my job as a writer to convey my ideas in an unmistakable manner? Maybe I haven’t been clear enough for those parents who don’t already have a transgender child or know a transgender person. Maybe I need to reconsider how I explain what it means for my son to be trans or what it means for me to raise a trans kid.
Or maybe I’m overthinking all of this. I do that sometimes. I want so badly for everyone to accept my son — and others like him — for who he is, not whether he ‘passes,’ not based on how he sounds, and definitely not how he dresses. But that’s the crux of it all. There are billions of people in the world, and most of them judge other people based on all of those things and more.
I admit that I’ve done it, still do it on occasion. I’m judging this recent commenter right now, possibly too harshly. Perhaps he had a hell of a day — his wife left him, his dog died, his truck blew up in a ball of fire. Then he came across my piece and took all his life’s frustrations out on the screen while writing his opinion.
Or maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m taking it all too personally this morning.
I could choose to think that he read my piece because he’s struggling with his own gender identity, or has a child who’s expressing themself in ways he’s unsure of how to support, or maybe years from now he’ll remember something in my article that will help him accept and support a transgender loved one.
Like I said, I try to fixate on the positive, the glorious possible. Otherwise, life is just too damn depressing and overwhelming.
I need to remind myself that I don’t have the ability or power to instill my opinions, thoughts, and ideas into every single reader. I’m simply not that perfect of a writer or that much of a magician.
I’m sure there are those who disagree with my writing who do not express their distaste in comments. To those readers, I say, thank you for taking the high road, for being okay with a difference of opinion between us. You obviously have an open mind about many things which I can appreciate.
I don’t think there’s anything I can say that would help this particular reader though — help him understand what it’s like to be the parent of transgender youth, help him realize that if my words didn’t resonate with him it’s okay to simply move on to another article.
Should I thank him for reading my work even though he apparently didn’t enjoy it? Thank him for essentially paying me for my article as a reader on Medium despite him thinking I’m a horrible parent?
Maybe you, dear reader, could suggest how I should handle this recent comment that is laying so heavily on my heart.
I admit this has been more of a rant than an actual article. You have my apologies and gratitude for sticking it out anyway.
Of course, my complaints, frustrations, and feelings are minuscule next to the rollercoaster of things my transgender son has had to deal with. He handles it all with so much more grace than I’ll ever have. He always considers the other person’s perspective. He gives them the benefit of the doubt. He’s tirelessly forgiving of ignorant people. And he shows empathy to everyone whether they accept him or not.
I constantly preach about empathy but I don’t always have it for those who I deem closed-minded. I lean into tolerance instead — I tolerate those individuals who refuse to accept my son. Some days I feel like a hypocrite for choosing tolerance over empathy.
Today feels very much like one of those days. I’m choosing to tolerate this person rather than empathize with his lack of knowledge, inability to be compassionate toward those different from him, and his possible reasons for blatant rudeness.
Can I really call that taking the high road or am I merely avoiding the spite and hatred I’m assuming will spill from his lips during any attempt at discussion? Maybe there isn’t a high road at all. We just have options — possible roads we get to choose with every decision we make.
Here are 10 Questions Every Parent Should Ask Their Transgender Teen.
Zada Kent is creator of LGBTQueer-ies & proud parent to her transgender son.
