My wife gave birth to our first baby earlier this year, and I’m blown away by the idea of being the father of our son. I’ve been giving my child a lot of thought as I go about the life I want him to live in and the area I want him to grow up in.
I’ve been thinking a bit about the experiences I had when I was younger, and I hope he always does.
For instance, I’m worried that my son might be turned down for a job because he isn’t going to the grocery store because he never feels a drop in his stomach as he approaches the cashier. He shouldn’t have to worry that his first apartment application was turned down for the same reason. Because a doctor doesn’t know how to treat “people like him,” I hope he is never informed that he can’t get treatment for his cold. As a trans person living in America, these are just a few things that have worried me and given me.
I didn’t have the language growing up to know that I am transgender, but I knew I was different. Because of it, I suffered bullying, and some of those particular failures will always stay in my childhood memories. But I was happy. My friends and family have always been encouraging. My solid support system helps me get through the latest anti-transgender political environment in our country, but it’s challenging to do so.
Not everyone is so happy. In fact, most of us aren’t. In some way, I ended up with sufficient aid to devote my career to making sure things are better for today’s young people than they were for me. Although we’ve made significant progress for trans people in the United States, we also have a long way to proceed.
The International Transgender Day of Visibility is observed annually on Sunday to honor trans people and increase awareness of the prejudice that we experience abroad. This year, I’m considering how trans people’s visibility is extremely outpacing understanding of what it means to get trans.
Trans people have awareness – but do we have understanding?
Fewer than 1 in 3 persons report physically knowing someone who is trans. The American government is rife with social media reports and popular social media videos, mostly produced by a well-funded coalition of organizations that have long made it their mission to make it as difficult as possible for LGBTQ+ people to go about their everyday lives.
Nex Benedict deserved a longer, happy life. Rather, we lost them to violence.
These organizations have happily supported the hazardous and discredited exercise of conversion therapy and have praised their efforts to “investigate” parents who are doing their best to support their transgender children in Texas.
They’ve succeeded in stoking the regional disputes over excluding transgender students from sports, outlawing medically necessary care, and even outlawing room use, all under the pretense of “protecting younger people.” However, the purpose of these debates is mostly unmet.
Trans people are our friends, family members, and companions. They pray next to us in our homes of devotion and work in the office cubicle next to us.
If you don’t know a transgender person, it can be hard to understand what it means to be transgender. But trans people, like all people, are simply trying to get through the day.
No one makes the right choice to be transgender in order to get a trophy. No one “shifts their sex” on a whim. The most deliberate decision I’ve ever made is to embrace who I am in a world where it’s very hard to be so.
Trans athletes face animosity: Four tell their stories in their own terms
Trans youngsters need assistance to survive, let alone live
I don’t know why I was born transgender, but I have no secret agenda. I’m a father, a parent, a brother, a caregiver. My main priorities, like most people, are taking care of my family, making a difference in my neighborhood, and running my day-to-day company.
What matters most to me as a parent is making sure my brother has a better education than I did. The talk we ought to be having about how to achieve this for all of our younger people is something that we should be having for all of us who care about protecting our young people and making sure they can grow.
For trans young people, the statistics tell us all we need to understand. In the past year, roughly half of transgender and nonbinary young people seriously considered suicide. Nearly 1 in 3 LGBTQ+ young people said their mental health was poor most of the time or always due to anti-LGBTQ+ policies and legislation.
While these are harrowing statistics, the solution is right in front of us. Research consistently demonstrates that LGBTQ+ young people who have access to supportive environments at home, school, or in the community have significantly lower suicide attempts.
Transgender young people need love and support in order to succeed, just like all of our young people. It’s really that simple.
To parents, from a transgender person: Let’s clear up some anti-trans misconceptions
From my perspective, the debates being generated by anti-LGBTQ+ activists about sports and medical care aren’t really about these policies. They’re about making it as difficult as possible for LGBTQ+ people, especially young people, to be who they are.
I’m all for it if fair-minded people want to have a rational and sincere discussion about the long-standing medical guidelines that support transgender people in sports. However, the current trend of rushing to overrule medical decisions made by parents in consultation with doctors suggests there is an ulterior motive – one that has serious effects on transgender young people.
This International Transgender Day of Visibility, I’m not asking everyone to agree with me on particular policy questions. I’m asking fair-minded Americans who share my desire for these young people to stop, engage in more discussion, and gather objective information before formulating their opinions and taking action.
I refute the notion that supporting some young people has to come at the expense of others. Together, we can work to make the safe and accepted environment for all young people. When we do so, everyone wins.
I have no idea what my son will be interested in, who he will fall in love with, or what he will want to do with his life when he grows up. As an expecting parent, there are so many unknowns, and it’s simple to fall into a rabbit hole of worries and what-ifs.
However, I do know one thing for certain: I want my children to live in a safe and open world where they can be who they are.
The Trevor Project, the most popular suicide prevention and crisis intervention program for LGBTQ+ young people, is led by Kasey Suffredini (he/him).
