Kiosk - A Life Less Ordinary (page 4)

A Life Less Ordinary
(conclusion)

John notes that gay people have the ability to come out to whomever they choose. Transgender people don’t have that option. When you transition, everyone will know—your coworkers, your neighbors, your family—everyone. And the The paper trail follows you forever, even for people who transitioned 35 years ago. No one ever knows when some paperwork that outs you will come up will come up and out you.

Three years ago in California, for instance, a car hit a transgender man while he was crossing the street. He had a fractured pelvis and internal bleeding, so paramedics had to cut off his clothes to assist him. When they saw that he had female genitalia, they referred to him as “she,” and the newspapers did the same. He had been “outed,” not only to his friends, but to everyone at work.

Upset by this, John called the policeman in charge of the report to try to set up some transgender sensitivity classes for him and the rest of the force. “Oh you don’t understand,” said the policeman, “We don’t need that. I’m gay.”

The physician and the administrator talk the most at the panel discussion. “Those who are confident in their sexual orientation have the least problems at work,” the administrator says, touching the doctor’s shoulder. “I talk about my partner. There are photos of the two of us on my desk. I’ve found that the self-confidence that you have helps.”

John nods. He clears his throat and says, “Three months ago, I had the opportunity to come out to my coworkers.” He considered just breaking the news to them without preface. “I thought it might be kind of fun. But work is the only place that I’m just a guy. I really value that space where I can just be who I am, and not have to explain it. But it’s also frustrating socially, like I can’t share part of my life. These relationships never go past a certain point. It bothers me a great deal. It’s baggage I carry around with me. I think [the physician] has excellent advice about confidence. People can read that energy. But once you come out, you can’t go back in.”

John used to be a waitress. When he made the choice to transition, he realized that there was no way that he could do it while in the food industry, especially at a place where he had to wear skirts and tights. He thought about what else he could do, and he remembered doing some volunteer work at a state hospital when he was younger. Somewhere he could work with disabled adults would be a great place to transition, he thought. No one would take too much notice of it, or care.

He was right.

John got a job at as a social worker at a small facility for the severely disabled. Two or three months later, he told his boss that he was planning to transition. His boss did not object, and so, for the next year, John transitioned openly at work.

A year and a half passed, and John’s wife’s job relocated to Orange County. The move was a great opportunity for John. It was his chance to reinvent himself, to be the new John that he always felt he was. It was during this time that he had his chest-reassignment surgery. Then, he was hired—for the first time in his life—as a male.

Today, John is still a social worker who assists seniors. The best part about his job is helping people. He believes it is the most meaningful thing you can do—make the world a better place, especially for people who are social outcasts or have social challenges.

John is also a member of the P-Flag (Parents and Friends of Lesbians And Gays)Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) Speaker’s Bureau, where he is invited to speak in classrooms about being transgender and about transgender issues. In addition, he leads the OCFTM (Orange County Female-to-Male)Orange County Female to Male (OCFTM) discussion and support group at the Gay and Lesbian Center in Garden Grove each month. John feels happy providing support to other transgender people, trying to keep the continuity and build a community to establish things and obtain rights. Somebody’s got to be there for the new people, and he is more than willing to help.

Because of all of his involvement in the transgender community, last year John decided it was best to tell his department director about being transgender, just so so that he could he feltfeel safe in case something were to come out. After he told her, John’s director was very surprised. She was the one who hired him though, and John knew that she liked him. He in turn felt very comfortable with her. Nothing has ever been said, so she has obviously respected confidentiality, and she has been “pretty cool” with it ever since.

Generally, people don’t transition in order to become transsexuals. Most transgender people want to transition and then live as men or women and not as transgender. That can be a very hard thing to do, however, even for the most confident transsexuals. For John and most transgender people, their former sex will always be a part of their past, and perhaps (unfortunately) also part of their bodies, no matter how much they try to hide or reconstruct it. John confronts these issues whenever he sits down on the toilet to urinate, or whenever he wants to be sexual with someone and must tell them about his identity. Yet Still, the complexity and complications are well worth it for him. In fact, John looks on the bright side, in that not many people can say they’ve lived life as both male and female.

“A life less ordinary,” he calls it.

A woman creeps into John’s OCFTM meeting on Sunday evening. She wears light blue jeans, a red shirt and a jeans denim vest over her shirt. She has never been to a transgender meeting before, but her counselor thought it would be a good idea, she told everyone.

“Are you guys all Female to Males?” she asks, starting to cry.
“It feels so good to talk about it. I’m a heterosexual man in a female body.”

John nods. “I’m glad you came.”