Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to kinder we go!
In August 2013, Ryland begins kindergarten on what feels like a very new foot. By the looks of things, the morning is more nerve-racking for Jeff and me than it is for Ryland. We’re emotional not just because our elder child is beginning his first day of school, but because of the magnitude of witnessing our once-deaf child, who can now speak and hear, also embarking on his first day of a new school year presenting as a boy.
We drop him off and walk him inside, in great awe of his bravery and of his swagger. He dons his backpack like a big kid, plus his new sneakers and his Quiksilver T-shirt with the face of a chimpanzee wearing a ball cap! My heart wants to burst with pride as I watch him hang his Ninja Turtle backpack on his designated hook and shuffle into the classroom toward the desk with a sign that says Ryland on the front in perfect print handwriting. Mrs. Dodds has expressed that for the first couple of weeks, it’s important that the parents keep their presence around the classroom to a minimum so that the children can adjust to life in their own space without the temptation of homesickness each day. Jeff and I make a meager attempt at nonchalance as we kiss Ryland good-bye and exit the school.
The truth is, I don’t want to leave him. I’m petrified. Fears about whether the kindergarten kids will accept Ryland as a boy are enough to worry anyone (just as we’ve expected, two little girls who played with him on the Purple Panthers soccer team just a year ago are in his class), but we also know that Ryland will face a day full of questions regarding his implants. We role-played with him to provide him with the tools to respond to the barrage of inquiries, but I can’t help myself from shaking a little inside.
That afternoon, as we observe him carefully at pickup, one aspect of the transition that I feel very certain of is my relief that we didn’t have to reeducate the children on a new name. “Ryland!” yells one classmate from Ry’s early childhood. She chases after Ryland to show him a toy. Instantly, it’s clear that our child is more outgoing than ever. He checks out her toy and throws his head back as they have a giggle together. “See you tomorrow!” says his pal.
From the looks of things, the transition is a thing of the past in the kids’ minds. The resiliency and understanding of children shines through as they demonstrate as much acceptance toward Ryland “the boy” as they had “the girl.” I smile, and for a moment, I’m at peace.
A few weeks later, on the afternoon of October 7, 2013, Jeff and I report to the school. I’ve been so nervous in the weeks leading up to this moment, but I am surprisingly strong as we face the large room of teachers—including one who is the wife of Jeff’s old fire captain. As we play the video, there are tears around the room, and when it concludes, there is pure silence. It is an extremely open-armed experience, even more than we could have imagined.
The next day and for days after, many teachers approach me in the school hallways and say that they themselves are members of the LGBTQ community, or that they have close loved ones who are. Every one of them tells me that they’re all still talking about how touching the video was.
The video feels like an even more heartfelt (and therefore more effective) way to reveal our family’s journey than even the letter was, so as I get to know a few more of the moms in Ryland’s class, I share it with them, always asking them to keep it very private. Ryland has taken a friendly liking to Paige, a very cute little girl in his class whose mom, Jody, is growing into one of my favorite moms to see every day. I send the video to Jody, asking her to please keep it private as I’m very fearful that it will begin to spread around the Internet if any strangers get their hands on it.
Jody responds in her usual sweet and authentic way. “Thank you for feeling like you could share this with me,” she says. “It was such a love-filled video that I was crying through it all.” She says she respects and admires our decision as parents to support Ry, and that Paige absolutely loves Ryland. “I am a spiritual person (I don’t ever go to church because I like to be lazy on Sunday!), BUT,” she says, “I believe in God, Jesus, and the Bible.” She says she doesn’t think God would ever put a person on this earth just to suffer. “Ryland was given to you for a reason and hopefully it’s to teach us all just to love each other as humans! We have not said anything to our kids. I want them to get to know Ryland for who he is as a person and nothing else. When the time comes or a question comes up, I will answer them honestly (unless you have any other recommendations).”
It’s 100 percent love and acceptance.
I don’t have any other recommendations.