Different folks

I've never paid that much attention to the Transgender Day of Remembrance, even though it's been observed for twenty years now.

It has my attention this year.

Last week, I learned that a close family member, Iphis (not his real name - duh) has informed his family and friends that he is transitioning from female to male. I got the news from Demeter, who had called Iphis's mum on an unrelated matter. After a night's thought, I texted elder daughter, a champion of LGBTQ rights, to let her know (Iphis being one of her favourite relatives), and to bounce around some ideas.

Elder daughter seamlessly switched Iphis's pronouns to he/his/him. After some deliberation, she texted him, and received an immediate message saying he was out to family and friends, who were being supportive. I took this as my cue to send a brief text, merely addressing him by his chosen name. Another immediate response, even briefer: "Hey!" I sent him our love and told him we were likely to slip up occasionally while we were learning. "That's okay. Luv u."

Iphis is fifteen.

It will be hard, for all of us. How do I refer to the Iphis I knew in the past, as "her" or "him"? Elder daughter says I will have to ask.

Iphis' mother is heartbroken, in mourning for the daughter that's suddenly gone. I don't blame her.

And then there's the terror. I have a daughter who is autistic, and if you think of autism as a different way of being, rather than a disability - which I do, on my good days - there are a lot of parallels. Who will judge them? Who might hurt them?

After all, today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance -- for those who have died for being different.

Please don't let me be reading Iphis's name at some future ceremony...