Raising Ryland

by Hillary Whittington

  I’m fuming: we’ve seen in our support group, and we heard it reiterated at the Gender Spectrum Conference in July, that the school setting is one of the most influential factors in a transgender child’s life experience, and it’s sometimes harassment at school, compounded by a lack of support from school staff, that leads to suicide attempts. This subject matter is potentially life-or-death. It warrants a loving, real person to deliver the importance of the message.

  The week before school starts, we realize just how critical the training is when Ryland’s new teacher for the upcoming kindergarten year, Mrs. Dodds, emails Jeff to set up a time for Ryland to come see his kindergarten classroom. Holding his breath as he tries to respond in the right way—what is the right way?—Jeff writes:

  Mrs. Dodds,

  Hopefully next Tuesday afternoon is going to work for you as far as our meeting is concerned. Before we do so, though, my wife and I wanted to share something with you about Ryland. For the most part, we keep this matter relatively private, yet there are many students who will be attending the school who know our situation. If you get a free moment, please read the attached letter, and please do not feel obligated to respond right away.

  We have heard great things about you and we look forward to Ryland’s time within your class, and to meeting you on Tuesday.

  Please take care,

  Jeff

  That same day, Jeff reads her response to me out loud:

  Jeff,

  Thank you so much for sharing this letter with me. I am so impressed with the way Hillary was able to share your experience and share Ryland’s story. He is very lucky to be so loved and supported and to have the two of you as champions dedicated to advocating for him. I will do everything in my power to support, encourage, and advocate for him as well this next school year. If at any time there is a situation or experience that has made Ryland feel uncomfortable or upset, please do not hesitate to contact me. I will be dedicated to his academic, social, and emotional growth over the course of the upcoming year and look forward to working with you and Hillary in making Ryland’s kindergarten experience fun and successful.

  Stephanie

  It’s a great relief, and if there’s any chance that all the adults Ryland will encounter at school could feel the same way, then we want to do all we can to optimize that.

  Still upset about the canceled training, I phone the superintendent, Dr. David Miyashiro. He invites Jeff and me to come in for a meeting on the Friday of the first week of school. I hate to wait that long, but Jeff reminds me that if we want to make progress, then we have to play by the school’s rules.

  As we drive over the hill to the Cajon Valley School District office building in downtown El Cajon, I’m on a mission. Jeff always laughs and likes to state that I come out of the house each day with my gloves on and laced up, while he keeps his in a bag beside him for when they’re necessary. This morning, I’m definitely ready for a fight. I want to know why they canceled the training, and what they’re going to do to protect my child from possible bullying. Half of the girls in his upcoming kindergarten class played on his girls’ soccer team last year! Kids will find out eventually, and how will the teachers address it with confused classmates and unsupportive parents?

  When David invites us to sit down in his office, thank heaven it’s clear that he is a very empathic man. I feel myself relax a bit into the chair. I pour my heart out to him, and he tells us that he understands our struggles and he feels a sincere need to help us protect Ryland. As I glance around his office, I see why: in a frame on his desk, there’s a portrait of him and his wife, with their new baby. It makes me realize that he relates to us as parents. “It was a budget issue for us to host an after-hours training for all the teachers at the school,” he explains. “But there may be a way around that.”

  “What’s that?” Jeff asks.

  “I was thinking that we could present this at a staff meeting. This early in the year, there aren’t usually a great deal of pressing matters to discuss.”

  This is pressing, I want to tell him.

  “So we should be able to make time on the agenda. If you’re agreeable to that, then there’s something I want to ask you,” David says. “Would the two of you be willing to present the teacher training? I just feel it would be more effective than bringing in a stranger from out of town. Does that make sense?”

  Jeff and I have heard from some of the transgender people we know that conducting the training ourselves could be risky, as the confidentiality of the family and child is then compromised, not to mention that with so much on our plates at home, we have such little time to prepare. We weigh it out: if we decide to go forward and do the training ourselves, there will never be a way to conceal our identity. However, we determine that at this point, it’s hardly an issue: half the neighborhood knows about our family anyway.

  Deep down, I’ve wanted to do the training all along—I feel as though it’s the only way we can be sure that Ryland’s story will come across as sensitively as we’ve lived it. Jeff and I agree: if this is our only way to convey the necessary ideas of the training and help ensure Ryland’s security, then we’ll gladly present it.

  David is pleased. He tells us he believes the teachers will be able to humanly connect with Ryland as a child if they can connect to us as people and parents. He says he’ll make sure the training happens as soon as possible.

  By the end of our conversation, David has committed to scheduling the training for the staff’s next meeting, exactly one month from now, in October. He says he will allot thirty minutes for our presentation. Jeff was right: I walked into his office with my gloves on, but when we leave, it’s with hugs and tears. I feel safe that the school’s superintendent is on our side.

  The meeting gives me hope that our situation can touch the hearts and open the minds of the teachers at Ryland’s school. How could it not? When you hear our son’s story, it’s hard to feel anything but love for him. With all that he’s been through, why would anyone want to make it harder?

  But we also know that by agreeing to do this training ourselves, we have just one chance to win the teachers’ hearts. The only way I can envision sharing Ry’s experience, and ours, is to create a video that goes back to the beginning of his life. I think of including voice-over sections from my letter, images of Ryland’s artwork from over the years, Darlene Tando’s gender lesson plan, pictures of Ryland doing “boy things.”

  My idea continues to develop and evolve. With every free minute I have over the next three weeks, after the kids are in bed, I pull photos and video footage off the computer to illustrate the journey—the ups and downs, the questions, the answers that have gotten us this far, our faith in our child’s knowledge of himself, the strength of our family’s love to get through all this together.

  I compile the video very openly, from my heart, and I decide to do it in the organic way that Ryland first experienced his life: without the sound of words or Jeff’s and my voices. I use subtitles to tell the story, mostly because this is Ryland’s narrative more than it is ours.

  I think of using the Macklemore & Ryan Lewis song “Same Love,” which calls for gay and lesbian equality, but then one morning on the radio during Ryland’s drive to school, I hear the OneRepublic song “Good Life.” We are living the good life—there’s nothing about my child or my family that I’d change, even if I could! The song’s beat is strong but joyous, and victorious. It’s perfect.

  As I watch the video splice by splice, I’m certain that this was the best way to create it—it comes across as though even Jeff and I have stood by as witnesses to Ryland’s life experience, which, when I think about it, is very true.

  As I complete the video, I sit down with Ryland to show him my creation. “Oh, Mom . . .” He cringes a bit as photos stream by, showing his life before transition, but as the video concludes, I can see the understanding on his face. Though he doesn’t like to reflect back on the early part of his story, he knows that this video
will help other people to understand both him and others on his same journey.

  Chapter Fourteen

  First Day of School

  Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to kinder we go!

  In August 2013, Ryland begins kindergarten on what feels like a very new foot. By the looks of things, the morning is more nerve-racking for Jeff and me than it is for Ryland. We’re emotional not just because our elder child is beginning his first day of school, but because of the magnitude of witnessing our once-deaf child, who can now speak and hear, also embarking on his first day of a new school year presenting as a boy.

  We drop him off and walk him inside, in great awe of his bravery and of his swagger. He dons his backpack like a big kid, plus his new sneakers and his Quiksilver T-shirt with the face of a chimpanzee wearing a ball cap! My heart wants to burst with pride as I watch him hang his Ninja Turtle backpack on his designated hook and shuffle into the classroom toward the desk with a sign that says Ryland on the front in perfect print handwriting. Mrs. Dodds has expressed that for the first couple of weeks, it’s important that the parents keep their presence around the classroom to a minimum so that the children can adjust to life in their own space without the temptation of homesickness each day. Jeff and I make a meager attempt at nonchalance as we kiss Ryland good-bye and exit the school.

  The truth is, I don’t want to leave him. I’m petrified. Fears about whether the kindergarten kids will accept Ryland as a boy are enough to worry anyone (just as we’ve expected, two little girls who played with him on the Purple Panthers soccer team just a year ago are in his class), but we also know that Ryland will face a day full of questions regarding his implants. We role-played with him to provide him with the tools to respond to the barrage of inquiries, but I can’t help myself from shaking a little inside.

  That afternoon, as we observe him carefully at pickup, one aspect of the transition that I feel very certain of is my relief that we didn’t have to reeducate the children on a new name. “Ryland!” yells one classmate from Ry’s early childhood. She chases after Ryland to show him a toy. Instantly, it’s clear that our child is more outgoing than ever. He checks out her toy and throws his head back as they have a giggle together. “See you tomorrow!” says his pal.

  From the looks of things, the transition is a thing of the past in the kids’ minds. The resiliency and understanding of children shines through as they demonstrate as much acceptance toward Ryland “the boy” as they had “the girl.” I smile, and for a moment, I’m at peace.

  A few weeks later, on the afternoon of October 7, 2013, Jeff and I report to the school. I’ve been so nervous in the weeks leading up to this moment, but I am surprisingly strong as we face the large room of teachers—including one who is the wife of Jeff’s old fire captain. As we play the video, there are tears around the room, and when it concludes, there is pure silence. It is an extremely open-armed experience, even more than we could have imagined.

  The next day and for days after, many teachers approach me in the school hallways and say that they themselves are members of the LGBTQ community, or that they have close loved ones who are. Every one of them tells me that they’re all still talking about how touching the video was.

  The video feels like an even more heartfelt (and therefore more effective) way to reveal our family’s journey than even the letter was, so as I get to know a few more of the moms in Ryland’s class, I share it with them, always asking them to keep it very private. Ryland has taken a friendly liking to Paige, a very cute little girl in his class whose mom, Jody, is growing into one of my favorite moms to see every day. I send the video to Jody, asking her to please keep it private as I’m very fearful that it will begin to spread around the Internet if any strangers get their hands on it.

  Jody responds in her usual sweet and authentic way. “Thank you for feeling like you could share this with me,” she says. “It was such a love-filled video that I was crying through it all.” She says she respects and admires our decision as parents to support Ry, and that Paige absolutely loves Ryland. “I am a spiritual person (I don’t ever go to church because I like to be lazy on Sunday!), BUT,” she says, “I believe in God, Jesus, and the Bible.” She says she doesn’t think God would ever put a person on this earth just to suffer. “Ryland was given to you for a reason and hopefully it’s to teach us all just to love each other as humans! We have not said anything to our kids. I want them to get to know Ryland for who he is as a person and nothing else. When the time comes or a question comes up, I will answer them honestly (unless you have any other recommendations).”

  It’s 100 percent love and acceptance.

  I don’t have any other recommendations.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Spiritual Enlightenment

  Right after the fallout with Melissa at the beginning of 2013, my good friend Macie got engaged. Macie has been an incredibly close member of our family’s inner circle and from the very beginning has loved to babysit Ryland. After her fiancé, Kevin, proposed, immediately they began to plan their wedding for the fall of 2013. As they selected their bridal party, Macie asked me to be one of her bridesmaids. She also asked Ryland to be their ring bearer. I was beside myself with the kindness she displayed in her gesture, and, to be completely honest, disappointed that we hadn’t received the same open arms from Melissa.

  But a few weeks into his kindergarten year, Ryland is on a cloud, going through fittings for his tux and practicing how he’ll carry the rings when he walks down the aisle. The day of the wedding, he is beaming as he stands next to Kevin and all the groomsmen. He smiles from ear to ear and eats up every compliment he receives about how handsome he looks. He dances with the flower girl and steals the hearts of the crowd—many who know his story and are from an older generation. It amazes me to see how loving and accepting the entire wedding is toward Ryland.

  I know it’s because Ryland is finally content in his own skin. At home, Jeff has continued to adapt to life with a son, and the relationship between the two of them jumps to a whole new level. Ryland has a confidence about him that was found only through his being seen as his authentic self. He begins to seek out Jeff’s opinion when it comes to clothing choices and how to comb his hair. Ryland stands a little taller each day as he and Jeff spend time together. He and Jeff establish a level of understanding and respect between each other as father and son.

  Ry and Jeff have always gone and done adventurous things around town together, and now, knowing how much affirmation a boy needs from his dad, Jeff takes Ryland on a boys-only trip hunting for small game (when they bring home a dead gopher, I videotape their high-five as Ryland proudly holds up their kill). They work on projects together (Ryland’s ant farm, for instance, lives on our kitchen table and each night before dinner, he and Jeff check to see how the colony is doing) and instead of “Honey,” Jeff now refers to Ryland as “Buddy.” Their bond has done wonders to continue to bolster Ryland’s self-esteem.

  In December 2013, we hold Ryland’s first-ever “boy” birthday party. I’ve spent weeks preparing to make it perfect for my little boy—he deserves to feel so important on this special day. This time I go all out with decorations, turning our backyard into a festive party space with a “comic book superheroes” theme: a bright blue backdrop and the silhouette of a cityscape; red, blue and yellow balloons; a giant bounce house; a banner in bright colors that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYLAND; a platter holding three tiers of cupcakes; and even a live Spider-Man.

  I invite all the kids in his class and some from his sports teams, and some of them have no idea that one year ago, Ryland was living as a girl. Before they all arrive, while Jeff makes finishing touches to the party setup, I walk around the house and make sure there’s no evidence whatsoever of Ryland’s old life left hanging in any frames or appearing anywhere in our home.

  The house absolutely buzzes with kids’ excitement, and the parents are equally as thrilled, snapping photos and laughing at Spider-Man while their little ones carry on. Whe
n we present Ryland with his cupcake with a blue number 6 candle lit up on top of it, Jeff snaps a photo of this perfect moment of childhood: Ryland’s wearing a Hurley surf T-shirt, and the look on his face as he eyes his cupcake is utter exuberance.

  Things in Ryland’s life have definitely turned around.

  Exactly three weeks later, on December 22, 2013—two days before Christmas Eve—things change even more. My parents are with us that Sunday at church. Before the service begins, while we socialize outside the entrance, I notice a man standing beside the fountain. He’s well dressed, handsome, and has a bright smile. “Would you like one?” he asks me. From a box, he pulls out a bright orange persimmon fruit—my father’s favorite.

  “My dad loves persimmons,” I tell him. He hands one to my dad.

  Jeff, Dad, and I shuffle into the church and choose a pew where in front of us, there sits a beautiful little girl whose arm is wrapped around her daddy’s neck, and then the persimmon man slides in next to them, and the little girl wraps her other arm around him. I watch the two dads, their love showered upon their beautiful daughter. I know that I may be one of the few in this church who pick up on what’s going on.

  My mom brings in Ryland and Brynley, and as Pastor Eric takes the altar and begins the service, it’s such an amazing feeling of comfort that I can’t really describe it. I know we’ve made the right choice to come back to God and this congregation.

  And then Pastor Eric delivers a sermon that changes everything.

  First, he explores the meaning of joy and says that through history, the church has considered an individual’s generosity and joy as the two pillars that make one an admirable person. He delivers it lightheartedly, but with great purpose, and in bouts of laughter and respectful silence, the congregation follows along.

  Then his sermon takes a very unexpected turn.