I present on transness and its many associated topics professionally, and I believe heavily in the power of stories to help people understand and empathize with one another. A story I often share in my trainings is what I like to call “The Parable of Isabel Fall.”
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When I was about 7, I asked my mother: “Mom, what’s a homosexual?” Neither my mother nor I knew at that moment that a homosexual was, among other things, me. So, my mother answered as best she could: “Well, Eric … a homosexual is a man who loves men the way he ought to love women, or a woman who loves women the way she ought to love men.” Needless to say, I didn’t come out to my mom for quite a while after that.
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When I was first coming out as a queer, I couldn’t wait to attend my first Pride parade. I braved the hot asphalt streets of Houston, Texas, for the parade, danced with my friends, and felt a sense of joy I couldn’t contain. This was it! I’d found my people.
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I know I will never fully understand the lived experience of the tragedies that preceded my lifetime, and I am grateful for the times I have been challenged to truly sit in recognition of and empathy with the lived experiences of queer and trans elders across many intersections and identities. A queer millennial comic I admire mused on a podcast: “I never experience homophobia — or barely.” The Midwest and the world at large have changed a lot since the 1980s. While I can point to several exceptions, generally, I am fortunate enough to know what she means.
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