PRIDE MONTH | LOVE | ACCEPTANCE

Nurturing LGBTQ+ Students

Things I’ve learned as a teacher of transgender teens

It was the first day of school.

I frantically passed out nametags for students to fill out, then began taking roll.

“Emily,” I called.

“I prefer Jax,” the student responded reluctantly.

A few names later, I announced, “Shawna Deitweiler.”

Behind a black COVID mask, the student mumbled softly, “Just Shawn, please.”

And then towards the end of the alphabet, I came to Vanessa Van Patten, who very proudly and loudly announced that the name Dade was the name of preference and he was the preferred pronoun

Not Vanessa. Nor she.

Later, Harley approached me after class, and said ever so calmly and sweetly, “Mr. Butler, would it be possible to call me Vandy?

“Sure,” I said with a big smile. “Not a problem, Vandy.”

And I asked Vandy for the preferred pronoun preference.

Vandy smiled, “He, and thanks for asking.”

It was a new school year, a new group of students with a whole different set of personalities and preferences.

And serving the transgender community at my school was something I’d never dealt with, nor been trained to deal with, and — quite frankly — I didn’t know the right way to deal with it.

I was confused.

Why was having a new name so important to these students?

Several teachers and I are sitting at a small round table in the lounge at lunchtime when Mr. Fimble saunters in, takes a deep breath, and announces:

“So, I have Emily Cordova in my class, and apparently she, he or them, whatever, wants to be called Jax instead. I can’t do it. What will the parents think? I am more woke than anybody. I don’t want to get in trouble using a different name.”

A red flag immediately went up.

I immediately thought, what’s the big deal with calling a student Jax?

I felt that Mr. Fimble not accepting Jax and instead forcing him to be called Emily was the worst thing you could do.

Then I remembered a short two years ago when I had these same concerns when Chloe wanted to be called Connor.

I didn't honor the request. I thought it was silly. Ridiculous. She was born a girl, why should I call her a boy’s name? What was she going to do at PE? She needed to use the girls’ locker room since that was her gender.

Oh, how ignorant, naive, and unaccepting of the transgender community was I.

I also remember thinking:

What, can they just pick any name in the dictionary or Thesaraus that they damn well please? And some of these names are just so odd and strange. Dade? Vandy? Teal?

What’s next Thunder? Lava? Soap? Toothpaste? Yogurt?

Now, I feel embarrassed I had these cruel and insensitive thoughts. I realized I was no better than Mr. Fimble back then. I felt horrible realizing it.

Love and acceptance were qualities I needed to get better acquainted with, like the students who sat before me in class.

But the beautiful thing about the human race is people can change, grow and learn from past mistakes or naive experiences. Then, we become better people because of it.

It often takes a giant glass of cold water thrown in someone’s face.

Or in this case, a simple and kind letter from Teal, formerly Tammy.

Dear Mr. Butler,

Thank you so much for letting me be who I am. Mr. Fimble and Mrs. Anderson refuse to call me by my new, chosen name, but continue to call me by my old, dead name. The name I hate and despise and want nothing to do with it. It’s not who I am, and want nothing to do it. Thanks for taking the time to accept me, be patient, and let me have a quick “escape” time from class when my anxiety acts up.

Your appreciative student,

Teal

I reached for the Kleenex box on the corner of my desk and grabbed three tissues.

This letter changed my heart, my attitude, and my mindset. I never looked at transgender students the same after that letter, and always made sure to call them by their chosen names. I asked them what their preferred pronoun choices were.

Always.

It’s really all about being accepted.

I remembered back to the fall of 1981 during my freshman year in high school (story here) when I was teased ruthlessly daily by a big bully who called me names like “Butthead,” “Buttsmell,” or would ask me, “Is your butt well? (My dead last name used to be Butwell).

It hurt. Deeply. It still hurts thinking back to those horrible high school days of wandering the halls during lunch, scared that Brian Moshier would pop up behind a corner and beat the living shit out of me.

I lived this nightmare daily. Until we moved.

These transgender students live this same nightmare daily but deal with it everywhere they go. And not just one bully. And if they move schools or cities, the bullying would just get worse.

It causes them serious depression over their transgender identity and not being accepted but being bullied constantly.

Teal’s thankful letter and reminiscing about being bullied changed me. It completely changed my mindset towards the transgender and the entire LGBQT+ community.

I became a new person that day.

From now on, I show transgender students nothing but love and acceptance. They feel welcomed and as happy as possible when they enter room 207.

When Kyle, formerly Alicia, and Bobby, previously Gretchen, were transferred from my sixth-period class to my second-period honors class, I made sure they were comfortable.

They were moved because they were being bullied so badly.

The first thing I did when I found this out was to share both the story of the time I was bullied and another time when I was the bully (story here). It wasn’t easy to share, but the bullies needed to hear it, and how wrong it was.

Every day I asked Kyle and Bobby how they were doing. Some days they said, “good.” Others days they were honest and said they weren't doing well, so I would ask follow-up questions. They knew I cared.

I often gave Bobby a silly trinket — like a Dwight Schrute foam head — from my desk just to make him smile. And he did. Every time. Even the days that he felt not so cheery.

I also allowed Bobby and Kyle to seat near each other. Bobby often brought a stuffed penguin to class to help with his anxieties— I gladly and acceptingly let him have it out during class.

Kyle loved to doodle in class when he got really nervous. No problem. Doodle away.

I asked Kyle one day, “Why did you change your name to Kyle of all names?”

He looked at me, grinned, and answered, “Because of South Park.”

I laughed, turned red, and said, “Duh.”

I felt like such an idiot asking, but I know it meant a lot to Kyle.

In my journalism class, I developed a good repertoire with Jax. I always told him how I loved his Joy Division, Smiths, or Metallica shirts.

We both had similar tastes in music.

One day I decided to ask him a rather bold question.

“What would you think about writing about yourself, and what it is like to be transgender? I think it would be a terrific story, and be beneficial to those on campus both in the LGBTQ+ community and others to understand them better.”

He nodded his head.

“Sure, I could do that,” Jax answered.

A week later, I received the story in my email. It brought tears to my eyes, touched my heart, and made me become even more understanding of the suffering and hurt transgender students feel on a regular basis both on campus and at home.

Wrote Jax:

My family doesn’t even try to acknowledge me being like this even though I have tried telling them. They just respond with, ‘You are a girl and will always be a girl’ or ‘You are too young to know these things.’

Another powerful paragraph typed in Jax’s honest essay said:

It sucks being trans. Just yesterday, I got called a derogatory slur. Sadly, it never stops. As long as I “look” female to them, they will never view me as what I really am.

Finally, he finished his first-person article by describing vividly what it feels like to be transgender.

Being trans is feeling like you’re trapped in a body that isn’t yours. Your brain can feel one way and your body looks another. Think about this, you were assigned male at birth, but your brain just doesn’t feel like it’s in the right place/body. Your body doesn’t look the way it’s supposed to look like. And other in depth stuff.

Well said, Jax. Well said.

Yet, it is very hard for most people that aren’t transgender or had any issues or questions regarding their sexuality to understand.

I feel Jax’s last paragraph is something all people need to read. Now. If they did they would get a better understanding of what it is like for those in the LGBTQ+ community.

They are just people. Loving, caring people. People with everyday problems, often deep problems.

And they just want to be accepted and loved for who they are.

Isn’t that something that we all yearn for?