Well, it finally happened: at a special meeting of our little private school, we – my wife and I – were made to listen to various testimonials – by people we like and respect for the most part, I hasten to add – on the beauty and wonderfulness of gender affirmation, and how hurt and disappointed they were to hear that some people at the school were not on board. My beloved wife promptly stood up and said: cut the crap, you’re talking about me. You are trying to force me to lie, and say that boy can be a girl or visa versa. While I respect everyone, gender theory is harmful and dishonest.
This went over as one might expect. The image that came to mind was of the children of alcoholics (I got a load of my own problems, but not that one) for whom the story is sacred: as long as everyone agrees that daddy didn’t mean it, or mommy just forgot, or whatever tale allows the kids to ignore the horrible reality of their lives and keep it together one more day, the relationship of that story to the truth is less than irrelevant. I’ve seen this in real life; I also read I forget where an account of a situation where the youngest child, not yet aware of how this works, doesn’t want to get with the story the older children are telling each other: but that’s not what mommy said! and has the full weight of the siblings authority brought to bear on him until he complies.
Thus, the story – gender dysphoria is something to be honored and respected and never, ever contradicted – would get sincerely repeated, after my wife and I had our say, as if nothing had happened. Surreal.
I – very stupidly, in retrospect – appealed to science. In a culture where the likes of former stand-up comedian and electrical engineer Bill Nye are considered scientists, such efforts were obviously wasted. I burned my chance.
Another stupid thing for me: I was actually unprepared for the universal reliance on communist propaganda: everything is a social construct, man. Can’t even hear anyone say that without recalling the pot-addled hippies I knew as kid saying ‘it’s the system, man.’ I should have known better. The state of education is such that this marketing slogan, the sophisticated-sounding version of ‘the individual is nothing, the collective everything’ is the go-to position for faux intellectuals and wannabes of all ages. It’s also the password to the Kool Kids Klub. As Z says in Men in Black: Congratulations! You’re everything we’ve come to expect from years of government training.
The funny thing: I actually care about these people, some of whom I’ve known for years. They, of course, at this point will never believe it, for I am clearly a hater and a bigot. I’ve hardly been able to sleep for the last three days, running what I should have said through my brain over and over, hoping to get through or plant some seeds, at which I utterly failed. Just tonight I think I’ve finally gotten the mental auto-loop function under control, thank God.
In a crowd of maybe 25-30 people, two (2) of us were not buying the propaganda. Well, three, since our 15 year old son showed up for this but wisely kept his mouth shut. Poor kid.
Welcome to California. I’m hoping – crazy optimistic, I know – that this is the final shoe to drop: the last 6+ years, our eldest son was hit by a car and died, two of my older sisters died of cancer, I lost my job after 22 years, and now the people in the school we help found and spent untold sweat, worry and money on over 23 years, have decided we’re hateful bigots. I don’t even want to know what else could go wrong.
On the plus side: after several years of feeling ill and exhausted (stress, maybe? Depression? Gee, ya think?) I now, for the last couple of months, feel like my old high-energy self. You also may have noticed that the fiction writer’s block that has afflicted me for the past 9 months has passed with a flurry of flash fiction. The Novel That Shall Not Be Named and a pile of short stories beckon…