Need for Education: Transgender

Need for Education: Transgender

people-painting

Response to California’s new law (the first in the USA that provides statewide protection for trans students) makes something clear: The public needs education on what being transgender means. As I listened to news casts and read comments, one word kept jumping out at me. “Choice.” The perception of many is that trans people, whatever their age, “choose” to be transgendered.

Listen to CNN’s Brooke Baldwin who, while maintaining a neutral stance, began yesterday’s News Room segment with a summary of the new law stating that the trans student’s rights are “just based upon which gender a boy or girl chooses to identify with.” One of her guests, Randy Thomasson, president of anti-LGBT hate group, Save California, responded to her question about what he would do if he had a daughter who identified with boys by suggesting that such a child’s sexual confusion could be the result of abuse or abandonment. I am not taking issue with the helpfulness of professional counseling, but with the idea that one “becomes transgender” as a result of abuse in whatever form. In other words, it’s a choice. It’s “curable.”

California #AB1266, transgender rightsThe reality is, transgender persons, like all of us,  are born with an deep innate sense of gender. Their body doesn’t match.

CBS NewsOnle’s report addressed the issue. While the opening statement still included the idea that school children choose their gender, the reporter, John Blackstone, interviewed an eighteen-year-old transgender student, Logan, and brought up the question of choice. Logan, of course, was clear. No one would choose such a life. No. Being transgender is not a choice.

Perhaps what will most help dispel the misconception that people choose to be transgender is what Masen Davis, Executive Director of the Transgender Law Center, mentioned on the CNN report: Getting to know a transgender person.  “I realize that not everybody in America has had the opportunity to get to know a transgender person…,”  Masen said. Fear and hatred are fueled by ignorance. Whether through getting to know a transgender person, watching stories of transgender persons on television specials or online, or reading those stories in books or other media, one of the first things a person will learn is being transgender is not a choice.

Showing God’s Merciful Face

Showing God’s Merciful Face

Fountain, Rome, Italy, Egyptian Obelisk

Fountain in Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Fountains are everywhere in Rome. Many famous. Many not. The amazing thing about them is their water is fresh, clean enough to drink. “Keep your water bottle,” my daughter advised when she saw me draining the last drop early in the morning. “We can refill it at the fountains all day long.”

How right she was. People of all ages crowded around the fountains, catching streams of clear, cold water in their plastic bottles. At some places, water in a bottle was not enough, and people put their heads under the spouts or stepped into the shallow pools to find relief from August heat.

I have to hand it to Pope Francis. Rome in August is not for the faint-hearted. His choice to forgo a month in the summer residence takes stamina. So did his trip to Brazil for World Youth Day and his good humor during a long press conference aboard the plane on his return to Rome.

What I find as welcome as water pouring out of Rome’s fountains is the kindness and humility coming from the heart of the new pope. While not signaling changes in Church teaching on homosexuality, which many hope will come eventually, Pope Francis shows God’s merciful face when confronted with the issue.

Responding to questions about the possibility of discovering a gay priest in his service, he said “Who am I to judge a gay person of goodwill who seeks the Lord? You can’t marginalize these people.”

Vatican, Saint Peter's Square

Fountain in St. Peter’s Square, Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Later on, according to an AP article quoted in a post by Paul Brandeis Raushenbush on Huffington Post’s Religion page, he took reporters to task for asking about an aide who had beensuspected of involvement in a gay tryst ten years ago. That was not an issue of criminal behavior, as abusing children. It was a matter of sin, he said. When someone sins and confesses, God both forgives and forgets.

“We don’t have the right to not forget,” he said.

Refreshing.

Ask of the Days of Old

Ask of the Days of Old

corn muffins I was trying to sit quietly, to be aware of the Holy Presence within and without. The beeswax candle was burning. Scripture was waiting to be savored. And corn muffins were baking in the oven.

I couldn’t be still. Too many things to do pushed into my brain along with a bit of panic that I could do them in time to meet deadlines…some very public deadlines. Breathe in. Breathe out. Be still. I tried. I failed.

I wondered if I still believed in the Holy Presence that is the original milieu. The place where I live and breath and have my being. “Yes,” my mind gave the conditioned response. “Then why can’t I rest in the mystical embrace?” it wondered. Too busy to linger long on any one thing, it darted off to books, phone calls, appointments, writing, and work at Macy’s.

Mercifully, the oven’s buzzer announced the corn muffins were ready, and I had a good reason to get up and focus on something closer at hand. I spread butter on steaming soft insides of the yellow muffin.

I read over the Old Testament reading from Deuteronomy: “Moses said to the people: “Ask now of the days of old, before your time, ever since God created people on the earth; ask from one end of the sky to the other: Did anything so great ever happen before? Was it ever heard of? Did a people ever hear the voice of God speaking from the midst of fire, as you did, and live?”

“Ask of the days of old.” Maybe that’s what I can do. Remember. Not only creation and ancient history, and history of a particular people, but my history. The times I heard God’s voice speaking from the midst of fires in my life.

“Even the people who knew Moses and his story of the burning bush needed reminded,” I thought.

I took a buttery bite of warm breakfast. It tasted like hope.

Called to Notice, Call to Love

Called to Notice, Call to Love

Originally published in the Catholic Times

Sunday’s readings from Deuteronomy and from Luke emphasize two things: God’s law is the law of love, and it resides deep within each of us, as close as our mouths and our hearts. The Old Testament reading is taken from the end of Moses’ speech to the Israelites who had completed the long wanderings in the desert and were on the brink of entering the Promised Land.

Moses had recapped the struggles of their journey, told them blessings come from their curse, and that God would gather them back from the nations where they were scattered. The command Moses gave to the people, to turn back to God with their entire being, was attainable. Unlike Gilgamesh, the hero of the ancient Mesopotamian epic, who traveled to the ends of the earth, to the depths of the sea, and to the heavens, in search of the secrets of the gods, the Israelites had God’s word on their lips and in their hearts. They had only to obey it.

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Mother Katharine Drexel for Encyclopedia

Mother Katharine Drexel for Encyclopedia

Mary was asked to write the history of Mother Katharine Drexel for the Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought, Social Science, and Social Policy. Below is her contribution to the book.

DREXEL, MOTHER KATHARINE (1858-1955)

An heiress who gave her life and fortune to found the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, an order dedicated to serving Native Americans and African Americans, Katharine Drexel was driven by her love of God, the Eucharist, and the poor to establish schools and chapels across the United States, from reservations in the West to ghettos in New York City to backwater towns of Louisiana.

Katharine was born on November 26, 1858, the second daughter of wealthy Philadelphia banker, Francis A. Drexel, and Hannah Langstroth, who died five weeks after giving birth. In 1860 Katharine’s father married Emma Bouvier, who became the mother of his third daughter. Both Francis and Emma were devout Catholics, and one cannot overestimate the influence family had upon the Drexel girls. They lived in a home filled with love and formed by faith. In her later years, when asked about family prayer in her childhood, Katharine said, “Prayer was like breathing.”

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Not Limelight, but Twilight

Not Limelight, but Twilight

By James Scott P. Pignatella

I am a multifaceted person, as most folks are. One of my facets is photography, which started from a Polaroid camera gifted to me when I finished eighth grade. In the twenty-five plus years since, it’s become a semi-professional hobby. Light completely changes the character of a photo. The best photos are not taken at high noon or in the dark of night. The photos with the most character are often taken in the moments of twilight; sunrises, sunsets, or not far from it.

Some of my other facets include that I am Catholic; a scientist, (an engineer, to be precise); a musician; an actor; an outdoorsman; a literary critic; a mentor; an amateur theologian and historian…a bit of a modern day renaissance man, perhaps. I am also a transman, also known as a female-to-male transsexual. That’s the facet that has tended to be problematic for me and for others. I have always been male, but, when I was young, I was not always consistently seen as such. In fact, there were constant expectations made by those who ‘knew better’ for me to be someone I wasn’t, namely a female. I never met those expectations.

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The Truth About Finding Peace

The Truth About Finding Peace

by Carol Brooks

This is the story of my life’s journey to discover the truth about who I am. I remember being about five or six, and playing with the daughter of my mother’s best friend. Somehow, we started playing dress up and I wore her dresses. It felt so good, and I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t wear them all the time. My parents never knew that we did this. I would wear this little girl’s nightgown and panties. As I got older, I remember riding my bike down to her place and wearing panties and a slip under my trousers. I was both thrilled and nervous.

When I was about nine or ten, my mother would make me wear my sister’s dress so that she could hem it. I complained, but my mother said my sister was too busy doing household chores so I had to do it. Sometime later, my sister found out that I wore one of her dresses, and I was punished for that. I had to wear the dress all day while they called me Susie, and tried to shame and embarrass me. They told my only grandfather, and he too would call me a sissy and a little girl. They taunted me saying that men are strong and don’t cry, and definitely don’t wear dresses. Only sissies do!

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God is in this Place… I didn’t Know

God is in this Place… I didn’t Know

Today’s Old Testament reading is one of my favorites. From Genesis 28, 10-22a, it tells the story of Jacob stopping to sleep while journeying to find a wife from his mother’s people. He takes a stone for a pillow and dreams of a ladder, or ramp, stretching from the earth to the heavens, filled with angels or messengers ascending and descending. In the dream, God was looking over him and promised the land to Jacob and his descendants, who would be “like the dust of the earth,” a blessing to “all the clans of the earth.”

“And look,” God continues, “I am with you and I will guard you wherever you go and I will being you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done that which I have spoken to you.”

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Love Casts Our Fear

Love Casts Our Fear

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.

1 John 4:18 (NRSVCE)

Today I read a blog on Huffington Post by Linda Rovertson, Just Because He Breathes: Learning to Truly Love Our Gay Son. It moved me for many reasons.

First, I am familiar with fear taking over when really, all I wanted to do was love. When my daughter confided in me that she was transsexual and had known since she was a toddler, all I wanted to do was love her.

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Remembering Dad

Remembering Dad

I’ve been thinking of Dad all day. He died in September, 2011. This would have been his 95th birthday. I thought of him as I washed my face and noticed the diamond engagement ring he gave to my mother sparkling on my finger. (It’s difficult to think of Dad without thinking about Mom, too.) How many times its brilliance reminds me of the example they were of what St. Paul said in today’s reading: The entire law is fulfilled in this one thing…Love your neighbor as yourself. Mom and Dad were good at that.

Parents are a child’s first experience of the world. Of love. If one is blessed. And I was. I have lots of memories of Dad. I remember crying and being sick when he had to leave for a week when I was young and he traveled a lot for his job. Mom said neighbors commented that they knew Dad was home when they looked in the windows and could see little legs dangling as Dad carried his young children, one by one around the house.

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