March 31st is Trans Day of Visibility.
On this day, I celebrate my child. I celebrate the trans folks who paved the way to help my child embrace his authentic self. I celebrate every transgender person regardless of their visibility, regardless of how they present, regardless of how or if they transition. And I celebrate each and every transgender person, especially those who are worthy of better parents than the ones they were given.
For far too many trans folks, family is not something they can take for granted. Can you imagine rejecting your own child because they had blue eyes?
Open your eyes: our children have no more control over their gender than they do with their eye color.
So…to any parents who have rejected their child simply for being trans? Please do me the favor of fucking right off.
Want to know what your self-righteous rejection might feel like to the child you don’t deserve?
Let me introduce you to one of my chosen cubs, Chris Talbert. He rocks. There are times when Chris stands on a stage and performs comedy; seeing his bright light makes my soul smile. There are other times when Chris sits in solitude and writes powerful poetry; seeing his stark dark shatters my every wall.
Last week, Chris wrote some beautiful poetry about his mother and me. With his permission, I have shared it with you below. May his truth help others see.
Please note that his poetry may not be used in part or in whole without his express written permission. Please contact me through Facebook or My Contact page as needed.
Dear Mom
You are the grassy field overshadowed by the cold hard mountain, allowing everything within the shadow to die.
You are warm arms wrapped round someone in a loving embrace that they suddenly realize is restraint and strangulation rather than love.
You are always there to give advice except when you’re needed.
You’re a scolding instead of a hug, rebuke instead of education, coldness instead of warmth.
Nothing in nature exists to describe one who chooses her comfort over the safety of her children.
You are as if all nature was turned on it’s ear and mother ducks didn’t wait for their children to waddle along and mother horses fled as their foals attempted to stand and kangaroos stopped carrying their young and penguins abandoned their eggs to freeze.
You’re the unexpected frigidity of a greenhouse with the glass broken out and all the plants left to die.
But what you didn’t know is I’m not a greenhouse flower, I’m a dandelion and I will survive.
Dear MamaBear
Your purple infused locks are the epitome of crazy hair don’t care.
You’re a worn out pair of Chuck’s worn without socks because they’re more comfortable that way and honestly who cares?
You’re a hug so tight the very mention of it can be felt from hundreds of miles away.
You’re a young heart and an old soul and love shared so much it can only continue to grow til it envelopes all that there is.
You’re as familiar as the pattern on the wallpaper at Grandma’s house and as comforting as the same old floral sheets she made your bed with every time you stayed.
You’re an old time camera that is as unique and beautiful as the art it creates.
You’re the sweet syrupy goodness of a caramel frappe and the warm gooey feeling of fresh baked cookies.
You’re like cat purrs, healing, warm, and precious.
You’re the mom every kid deserves and the one very few get.
