So here we are, a pack of Homo sapiens thinking that we know whether a person is female or male. Now that I’ve spent a few years researching and talking with people who fall under the transgender umbrella, I am confident saying that male/female is not the only way to describe gender. The people I’ve come to know and love in the course of writing and photographing this book have helped me better understand the fluidity of gender and sex.

This lesson for me also reinforces what I’ve been writing about for years: once we get to know individuals who may be different from ourselves, it is less likely we will be wary of them. And maybe, just maybe, we will learn a little more about ourselves.

The basic plan for Beyond Magenta was to write and photograph a narrative nonfiction book about sex and alienation, two universal themes that have interacted in life, literature, and art since forever. The focus was to explore basic characteristics of sexuality, especially watershed periods when young people recognize or begin to acknowledge their sexual and gender identities. The book was going to be about boys who realize that they are girls and girls who realize that they are boys. As you can see, this vision changed as I learned more.

A nonfiction author is nothing without facts and contacts. After reading books and attending conferences to understand basic issues facing the transgender community, I began the search for an organization that would help me find participants willing to reveal themselves in print and, sometimes, pictures.

Friend and law professor Susan Herman, usually my first contact for books about human or civil rights, put me in touch with James D. Esseks, the director of the ACLU’s Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender & AIDS Project. James, in turn, identified a number of organizations I might want to reach.

Eventually, I found the right, spot-on group. The Callen-Lorde Community Health Center not only had a first-rate reputation, but it also had a specially designed teen program called Health Outreach to Teens, HOTT.

Trey Gantt, the program coordinator, and Reed Christian, the program director, arranged a staff meeting where I presented my proposal. Well, it was a little more complicated than that. CLCHC needed to be sure I was who I said I was, and that I was doing what I said I was doing. I appreciated their caution. It meant that they were respectful of their clients and professional in the way they go about their work. In the two years working with the HOTT staff, I was never, ever disappointed.

One of the therapists, Nicole Davis, became my go-to spokesperson. A compassionate psychologist and all-around amazing person, Nicole totally got what was needed to bring about as full a picture as possible about transgender teens. It was important to find youths from wide-ranging ethnic, religious, and socio-economic circles so as not to mislabel “transgender” as rich or poor, white or of color. Through Nicole, I met Jessy, Christina, Mariah, and Cameron.

Nicole, who was pregnant at the time, arranged for her colleague Amelie Davidson to take over our project once her child was born. Amelie introduced me to Nat and Dr. Manel Silva.

The process of converting taped conversations into readable narratives is delicate. On the one hand, a person’s voice and life need to be reported accurately. On the other hand, their story has to be revealed in an interesting, readable narrative. The profiles you read were taken from a series of taped interviews that were edited by me. When information on the tapes was not relevant to the narrative’s topic, it was deleted. When information was not clear, I sought clarification from the participants. The participants were then invited to read their chapters. We worked together to make sure that everything written was honest and authentic.

All of the participants had the choice of whether or not to use their real names. They also had the option to include photographs. Jessy, Christina, Cameron, Nat, and I created individual photo essays to fit their chapters. For example, Nat and I called their essay, “The Long Road with Musical Interludes,” and decided it would be best photographed in black and white.

As we worked, the tapes and e-mails, laughter and tears, trusts and convictions, transitioned into Beyond Magenta.

It became clear that Beyond Magenta needed to spread its wings and move to at least one other part of the country to expand the representation. That meant long-distance research. In situations such as this, my first call is either to a friend, a librarian, or a teacher.

Kathleen T. Horning, the director of the Cooperative Children’s Book Center at the University of Wisconsin–Madison meets all three criteria. She was my first and only e-mail. I became Tom Sawyer as K.T. painted my literary fence. She researched, called, cajoled, and re-called people to find the perfect group for Beyond Magenta. Through K.T.’s friend Carin Bringelson, I met the marvelous folks at Proud Theater.

Callen Harty, Brian Wild, and Sol Kelley-Jones asked their teenage theater company if I could attend their closed rehearsals. Lucky for Beyond Magenta, lucky for me, they agreed. It was there I met Luke. I wish I could include every member of the company — they are a remarkably talented group of people. They are also an excellent example of how the artistic process can open a door to a deeper understanding of oneself, others, and social relationships.

K.T. and her partner, the writer Emily Kokie, not only housed and fed me — very well I might add — but also had a closing night “strike party” for Proud Theater principals. Two perks for writers of nonfiction are: we meet very interesting people and eat very good food.

Lots of people helped make this book possible. I owe them an enormous debt of gratitude.

First and forever, I am grateful to Jessy; Nan; Christina; Christina’s mother, Wanda; Mariah; Cameron; Nat; and Luke for their insight, generosity, honesty, humor, and bravery.

Much appreciation goes to the participants’ families who generously donated photographs from their family albums.

The Callen-Lorde staff, especially Nicole Davis, Amelie Davidson, Trey Gantt, Tia Pinkson-Burke, Reed Christian, and Jerry Algozer, were instrumental in making this book happen. Dr. Manel Silva, the clinical director of the HOTT program, took time from her very busy practice to talk with me and review the medical sections of the book.

Callen Harty and Brian Wild were steadfast in their support, wise counsel, and friendship. Their commitment to the Proud Theater is gift to both performers and audience. A special thanks to Callen Harty for allowing the use of his sensitive photograph of Luke performing. Thanks to Luke and his family for their gracious permission to reproduce “Untouchable.” I learn more every time I read it.

My prolific and fabulously talented writer friends, Robie Harris, Deborah Heiligman, and Elizabeth Levy, took time from their own work to read the manuscript. Their critiques were pitch-perfect. I can’t begin to say how much I value their help and their friendship. More good friends and family, including Stacy Goldate, Thea Lurie, and Arthur Pinto, held my hand, or their phones, throughout this journey, offering much-appreciated advice and encouragement. Thanks to Reed Christian and Karlan Sick for reading late drafts. If mistakes remain after so august a group of readers, they are solely mine.

Thanks to Kathleen Anderson at the International Center of Photography for her expert advice while helping me print and prepare the digital images.

Kenneth Wright, agent extraordinaire, formerly at the Writer’s House, was yet another critical reader. Throughout this project he was enthusiastic and encouraging. I felt safe knowing that Ken had my back. When Ken moved on to another position in publishing, Brianne Johnson stepped in, embraced Beyond Magenta, and has become one terrific agent. Thank you both.

It is an absolute pleasure working with my editor, Hilary Van Dusen. Even very early on, she and her colleagues at Candlewick Press were quick to send me articles and materials that might help in the research of the book. I am also fortunate that Hannah Mahoney, Miriam Newman, Matt Roeser, and Sherry Fatla worked on the creative and technical elements in the book. What a team!

Last but always, thanks to one more reader, my husband, Bailey, who enriches life’s adventure — the high eureka moments, the low grumpy ones — with love, support, grace, humor, and, above all, patience.