Pride: Celebration, Protest, and Fear©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
June 11, 2023
Little Kristin was five years old. One day she was playing with her sister in the family’s living room when her grandmother summoned her to dinner. “Girls, dinner’s ready,” called Grandma. Kristin’s sister jumped up, but Kristin didn’t move. At age 5, Kris was so sure of her identity as a boy that she didn’t think her grandmother was talking to her. Her grandmother came back into the room looking for Kristin, and asked her if she hadn’t heard her say, “girls, come to dinner.” “I’m a boy,” replied Kristin.
We can be shocked to discover at what an early age a child can develop a full sense of their gender identity. We tend to assume that gender identity is tied fully to sex organs, or to the awakening of interest in sexual activity as children approach adolescence. But gender identity is not the same thing. It is literally our identity, our deepest beliefs of who we are inside.
When Kris wrote a memoir years later of his transition from female to male, he described the concept this way: “Sexual preference is who you choose to go to bed with. Gender identity is who you go to bed as.” (Chris Edwards, Balls: It Takes Some to Get Some, RiverGrove Books, 2016.)
Now, our little friend Kristin was perplexed that no one could see her as a boy. So she decided that the problem must be that she had long girly hair. And she asked her mother to get her hair cut short. Her mother agreed, but that didn’t seem to solve the problem. Not having any brothers, it took Kristin a few more years to figure out what else might be involved.
Kristin, now Chris, never was reconciled to a future as a girl. And society is much more accepting of tomboys – the girls who like to climb trees and wear boys clothes. It’s hugely unfair, really, that little boys who want to dress up as princesses or want to wear glitter nail polish aren’t granted the same level of tolerance. Maybe we’ll get to that place of acceptance someday.
However tolerant parents might be of a daughter who prefers to present as a boy, eventually adolescence arrives, and body changes inexorably begin. And for transgender or non-binary children, this can be utterly horrifying.
Chris Edwards described the impact of the arrival of menstruation. He wrote, “In one night any hope I had left of being the boy I knew I was evaporated. No matter how much I prayed, I was stuck with this body – stuck being a girl. And I knew things were only going to get worse….From that moment on,” he continued, “I was no longer the fun-loving kid I used to be. My sense of humor went from good natured to sarcastic. I was angry all the time, snapping at everybody for everything.” (Ibid., pp. 12-13.)
Transgender, nonbinary, and agender youth are among the most vulnerable members of our society today. For all people, such as myself, who are cis-gendered (meaning that our gender identity matches our outward appearance) it can be hard to understand the deep hatred that these youth experience for their bodies: hatred and disgust. And it leads to frequent thoughts of suicide.
Teens who do not conform to societal norms can be bullied by their peers, and rejected by their families. School, as well as any of what we think of as normal rites of passage: pool parties, sleepovers, school dances, can be nightmares for these youth. From the time that puberty begins, they are forced to hide, to decline invitations, to not participate for fear of being discovered. The Trevor Project, an organization that offers support to LGBTQ youth, announced a study a year ago in which an average of nearly half of LGBTQ youth considered suicide. The rates are even higher for trans and nonbinary youth.
This is a public health crisis.
Chris Edwards shared his plan in his memoir. He thought he’d probably have fun in college, and then after that, he would plan to take his life. Living as a girl, as a woman for the rest of his life, was simply too exhausting to contemplate. Luckily for Chris, he trusted a college friend enough to finally come out to her, and she begged him to find some mental health care. He did, and began his lengthy journey of transitioning.
But what if his friend had been dismissive, or had laughed? And what if his family hadn’t loved him so much that they did everything they could to support him?
Too many young people are standing at the edge of a cliff, trying not to succumb to despair.
A study in the Journal of the American Medical Association of 104 trans and nonbinary youth reported that receiving what is called ‘gender-affirming’ care, meaning hormone treatments called puberty blockers and gender-affirming hormones, resulted in “60% lower odds of moderate or severe depression and 73% lower odds of suicidality over a 12-month follow up.” (https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2789423)
And as you probably know, at this time in our history, state after state is passing legislation to restrict this lifesaving medical care. Currently, according to the Human Rights Campaign, there are over 300,000 youth in the United States who identify as transgender. Over 30% of them now live in states that have banned gender-affirming care.
Before I read Chris Edwards’ memoir, I didn’t fully understand the urgency of providing this care to such young people. I wondered if perhaps it could wait until these youth become legal adults and can make their own choices. Then I discovered that a few states have been considering raising the age to seek this care to 26. But Chris Edwards convinced me entirely that these youth cannot wait. To force people such as Chris to spend years of their lives trying to hide, to conform, to suffer the bullying and hatred of other people, is simply cruel. What is happening today in far too many places in our country is cruel.
And it is cruelty for no good reason other than political gain. Politicians in some states have discovered that care for our transgender and nonbinary youth is enough of a hot button issue, by constantly talking about the impact on youth sports, and focusing on which bathrooms people use, that they are willing to exploit it for their own personal gain. There is no medical or societal reason to deliberately cause so much pain among our children.
Pride, the month-long series of events in June that lifts up the lives of LGBTQ people, is a little hard to describe in a few words. It honors a protest: the Stonewall Uprising of June, 1969 in Manhattan, and the parade that followed one year later to commemorate the riots. So Pride was born out of protest. Over the years it has become more of a party: parades and events, a celebration. We raise Pride flags to give voice and attention to all the LGBTQ people in our midst and to show our support and our welcome. Since Massachusetts paved the way as the first state to recognize same sex marriage in 2004, we celebrated as year after year more states followed suit, until in 2015 the Supreme Court ruled that same-sex couples have the same civil right to marry as heterosexual couples. A Gallup poll in 2021 revealed that 70% of American adults supported the right of same sex couples to marry. Those years were years of hope, progress, and celebration.
But this year, it’s hard to celebrate. We are confronting that rights are being eroded, in many areas of our lives. Voting rights in many states. Abortion rights. And now, medical care for vulnerable youth, who should be able to make decisions together with their doctors and their parents about delaying puberty, or other hormone treatments as they get older.
Last Sunday evening, Nikki Haley, one of the Republican candidates for president in 2024, stated that the presence of transgender youth in girls locker rooms was causing increased suicidal ideation among teen girls. Her lack of compassion for the trans kids, and her refusal to acknowledge that thoughts of suicide are so much more prevalent among trans kids, is pure political posturing. And she seems willing to let the most vulnerable among us pay the price for her ambition.
Imagine the fear that parents are feeling, knowing that in Florida, for example, they could lose custody of their teen if they pursued gender affirming medical care. Or what happens if the political heat grows too intense and doctors begin to refuse to provide care? If you have the means, you can find another doctor out of state. But what if you can’t afford it? And you watch your child descend into deeper depression?
The clock is ticking for many of these youth. And they are being treated as pawns in a game of politics.
So this is not a year for celebration, but it is a year for truth telling, for naming the hardships that so many people are experiencing right now; hardships – obstacles – created for people who simply want to live their lives in ways that make them feel whole.
I think often of the phrase written in our national anthem – “The land of the free, and the home of the brave.” And too often the assertion of freedom rings hollow. And too often we celebrate the idea of being brave, but we make it too hard for too many people. Why should all these teens and young adults – our children, and their parents – have to be this brave?
I deeply admire the courage Chris Edwards displayed in his journey into the fulness of his life and identity. He talks openly about how incredibly difficult it has been. He wrote, “Throughout all my struggles, thought of suicide, surgeries, and medical complications, I constantly wondered, ‘Why me? Why would God put me through something like this? I’m a good person. What did I do to deserve such a painful path?” It is clear, this is not something someone would choose. Not for the sake of making the girls basketball team, anyway.
My friends, the more we learn, the more we understand that our human identities and lives are unique, diverse, and ours alone. We learn that we know ourselves deep within from an early age, and that we all, every single one of us, should have the right to grow into that knowledge and that identity. Today, and every day, let us celebrate that knowledge, and the courage that is so often displayed as people live into wholeness.
Despite the fear, let’s celebrate our humanity in all its richness.
