As I often shared with you folks, I live in a very conservative community. 70% of the county went for Donald Trump in the election. The trans hatred is significant and people aren't afraid to be public about it.
I've been very fortunate that I haven't had any encounters in my first two months of being out. Until yesterday. Here is what happened. And know that I am still me and I don't plan to change. I'm a little more nervous, but in some ways it's just making me feel stronger in my gender and end the importance that I present publicly as myself. Right about now I want to use certain words we're not allowed to use that would indicate my extreme un bending attitude towards my gender and certain individuals who might want to beat it out of me.
Yesterday I was working at the planetarium, dressed as Krista, as I always am at work now.
A fourth-grade class was arriving, so I went outside to greet everybody. I was chatting with the teacher and some of the parents, and everything was completely normal.
As I was walking away, I heard one of the dads say that he needed to leave for a job site for 30 or 40 minutes and then come back. I thought, Oh, I don't want him coming back in half an hour and just standing outside wondering where everybody is. So I turned around and went back to help him. I told him that we wouldn't be finished for more than an hour.
And he glared at me.
It was one of those looks where you know SOMETHING is happening, but you don't necessarily know what. And I really didn't want to assume.
I've had people stare at me before and later discovered that they were actually completely trans-friendly. Sometimes people are just trying to figure out what they're seeing. So I didn't immediately think, Oh, this guy hates trans people.
Instead I thought maybe he was annoyed because he wanted to come back and watch the program and thought I was telling him he couldn't.
So I smiled and said something like, "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you planning to come back to the program? If you are, you'll just need to text one of the other parents so they can let you in. The gates will be locked and I won't hear you from inside the planetarium."
In other words, I was being nice to him. Really nice, actually.
Then he took his son, got into his car, and sat there on his phone.
At that point, I knew.
So did the other adults standing there. Nobody said much because there were fourth graders all around us, and that wasn't a conversation we were going to have in front of them. I think I said something profound like, "Well, it takes all kinds."
Then I went inside and did my planetarium program. And I had a GREAT time. The kids had a great time. We explored space. We laughed. They asked questions. They got to sit under a dome and experience that wonderful moment when the lights go down and suddenly the universe appears above their heads.
And somewhere along the way, another parent came and removed their child from the program. I was pretty sure they had received a message from a certain bigoted parent.
Later I found out that, yes, it was about me being transgender. So apparently sitting in a planetarium learning about space from a transgender woman was just too dangerous. Meanwhile, the remaining fourth graders somehow survived. 😄
And honestly, by that point my attitude was pretty much "Take your bigoted outrage and go pound sand."
I wasn't going to let one angry adult take away the joy I get from teaching children or the wonder those kids get from being in a planetarium. He doesn't get that.
So I finished the program, had a good day, and moved on. Mostly. Because later the phone rang.
One of my staff answered it. The caller wanted to speak to a supervisor, and I happened to be standing right there. So I picked up the phone.
"This is Krista. How can I help you?"
He started with, "Well, sir, I have some concerns—"
And I interrupted him. "Excuse me. It's ma'am. But yes, let's talk about it."
Which, of course, was apparently the greatest provocation imaginable.
"No. You're a dude. You're a —- dude."
And he kept going. I interrupted him again, calmly.
"If you can't be respectful, then we're not going to have this conversation."
His response, in a much angrier voice:
"No. You're a —- dude."
And that was that.
I told him that we could not continue the conversation and that he was welcome to leave a message or speak with my supervisor. Then I ended the call. THAT felt good!
I had handled it well, but I was rattled. There is something different about somebody staring at you. There is something different about somebody taking their child away because you're transgender.
Having somebody angrily tell you, directly, that who you are isn't real feels different. It wasn't really about pronouns. It wasn't really about whether he thought I was a man or a woman.
It was the fury underneath it.
For a few seconds, it felt very clear that this person would be happier if people like me simply didn't exist.
But here's the other part of yesterday.
I went home, chatted with my wife, and ate dinner.
We watched Ted Lasso, because Ted makes almost everything a little better. ❤️
And I was okay.
Not untouched by it. I'm still thinking about it today. But okay.
The parent has apparently continued calling people at the County Office of Education. Leadership is now dealing with him, and they are setting things up so that one person will handle his complaints rather than allowing him to keep contacting me or my staff. I feel very supported.
Yesterday somebody looked at me and decided that my being visibly transgender was such a terrible thing that he needed to remove his child, make phone calls, and scream obscenities at me.
And I spent the same day teaching fourth graders about the universe.
I think I know which one of us had the better day.
