By Andrea Lena DiMaggio
And the best thing for you would be me
I've been convinced
After thinking it through that
the best thing for you would be me
Previously: Three women, centuries old and practitioners of Draihoidel, the old arts, have come along side a girl in desperate need of understanding and encouragement. Each has taken the form of a mortal who will influence three mortals close to the girl. The fourth member of the group, the girl’s brother, and a practitioner of the old arts for only a few days, has made the choice to identify with his sister; the boy who would be a girl, by becoming a transgender teen, of sorts. Two others are receiving strength and encouragement, including one who would demonstrate a new-found courage in helping the girl.
“Hey, Dan, Paddy McCarthy is here.” Connie van Zyle, the department secretary said over his intercom.
“Send him….send her in,” Dan corrected himself.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Lambert?” Paddy said as she walked into Dan’s office.
“Yes…have a seat,”” he said pointing to the chair on the opposite side of the desk where he sat.
“You planning on attending the assembly?” He asked.
“I’m not so sure…I can’t handle all the teasing…” Her voice trailed off. She was glad she finally had an ally in her brother/sister, but the unmerciful harassment was almost too much for her.
“I want you to know something…something only one other person knows. I’m going to be at the assembly, partly because Mrs. Calabrese is laid up and won’t be able to make it. But I’m going there for another reason.” He smiled nervously and took a deep breath.
“I had a long talk with my wife last night…hardest conversation I ever had. Ever have one of those?” Paddy thought about the talk she and Mike had only a few days before.
“Been married nearly fifteen years; she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He held up the wedding photo that sat next to his phone, always a reminder of God’s grace in the form of his loving wife. He was half-kneeling next to her wheelchair kissing her lightly on the cheek.
“It’s no use ever keeping secrets, Paddy. It doesn’t really work all that well, and it usually makes things worse.” Paddy had no secrets that he was aware of, so Mr. Lambert must be talking about someone else.
“I’ll be at the assembly, and my wife Trudy will be there with me for support.” His eyes misted up, some for what he had to say to Paddy, but mostly out of gratitude for the love of his wife.
“I’m TG, a cross-dresser, but maybe even more than that…and she still loves me, Paddy, can you believe that?” He looked away, trying not to be too embarrassed; wanting so much to encourage the girl in front of him.
“I’m going to need all the support I can get, Paddy, and I think you of all people will know what I’m talking about. Please consider attending? Don't worry if you can't...I'll be alright.”
Dan didn’t want to manipulate or use Paddy in any way, so he left it up to her to decide.
The assembly started about ten minutes late. All of the transgender attendees were boys; in a school only a little over 400, the odds were small there were any girls in the school wishing sexual reassignment, and if there were, they didn't attend.
Out of the thirty, about fifteen were girls who were supporting their TG friends, who numbered about seven, including Paddy and her “sister” Michelle. The remaining eight teens consisted of four curious boys and four hecklers. Mrs. Grabowski ushered the hecklers out of the auditorium, but one asked permission to remain after apologizing.
There were only four scheduled speakers. A married cross dresser spoke first, explaining that the transgender "spectrum" was not just transitioning, or pre-operative, but included cross dressers and girls who had chosen to live as women but without the surgery. Rather than go into data or information, the speakers all spoke about feelings and learning to deal with rejection, what to do to reach out for support, more relationship issues than anything else.
Fiona, one of the Draihoidel women in the guise of a man, spoke briefly about her experience (duplicated entirely from the experience of a then nineteen-year old cross dresser from Cleveland). She handed it off to two brothers in their mid twenties who were post-operative women, who discussed their transition in light of the acceptance they had received from their family. It was a process, not arrived at quickly, with only some of their family reaching out and understanding and loving them.
A final unscheduled speaker walked slowly onto the platform, her pace slow and nervous, but she was determined to speak, if only for her own benefit, but ultimately for the benefit of a teen who had felt unsupported and misunderstood. She was pretty, in her late thirties it appeared, and she was dressed modestly owing to the importance of the presentation. She walked up to the mike, her blue shirt set off by the maroon curtains behind the lectern.
“I would like to thank the school for giving me this opportunity to speak. Some of you already know me, having sat across from me in my office,” she said softly. She was accompanied on stage by a very attractive woman who looked up at her with pride from her vantage point from her wheelchair.
"I would also like to thank a student I've know for a while, whose courage and understanding also helped me make the decision to speak today." She paused and choked back a sob.
“Some know me as Mr. Lambert, or Dan…but today, with my wife beside me, you may call me Diane.” She half smiled and turned to face Trudy, who had tears in her eyes. To be sure, she was anxious for her husband, but what couldn’t they face, such was the confidence in their love.
"Hi Marion, you wanted to see me?" Dan Lambert stood in the principal's office doorway, feeling quite like a teen ready to be scolded.
"Close the door, Dan." Marion Swenson looked up only briefly from her desk, and her expression was less than welcoming.
"Sure," he said, closing the door, wondering what would prompt her glare.
"What's the meaning of this?" She tossed a folder to the other side of the desk. He grabbed it and opened it up.
"What do you mean...this is the assembly we had last week for the transgender students." He smiled, but his expression was not reciprocated. Marion glared at him once again and frowned.
"You're supposed to get approval for any assembly from me Dan, you know that." Her voice sounded almost like a mother reminding her child of the rules of the house.
"You approved it...Here's your signature...right here? What's the problem? The assembly went great."
"My problem isn't so much with the assembly itself, but your participation in it." She said.
"Why should that be a problem?" He asked, not because he didn't know the answer, but that he wanted to hear it from her lips.
"You showed up at an afterschool assembly in drag, Dan...That's the problem...Don't you see that as a problem?" she asked dismissively. He took a breath. He had expected some flack for his part in the assembly, but not from his closest colleague.
"No...Not at all." He said it firmly but softly. She looked at him as if to say, "I don't believe this!"
"Let me get this straight. We have an after school assembly, and you show up wearing women’s slacks, a blouse and a blond wig and makeup and you don't have a problem with that? What were you thinking?' Her question sounded more like an indictment than an attempt to learn.
"We have several students who are transgender, Marion. I figured that if I came dressed as I did, they might feel a sense of commonality and perhaps that the school understood." He smiled, but immediately regretted it.
"Well, you figured wrong. We got about ninety letters of complaint because of your decision, and I don't know how to answer them, do you?" Once again, her tone seemed dismissive, as if she was more than just a little reluctant to hear his side, no matter what it was.
"I'd be willing to bet if you look at those letters, they would be from parents whose children didn't attend the assembly. We had less than fifty kids there, and apart from one parent who disapproves of their child's lifestyle, all the feedback was positive." He didn't smile, but he leaned on her desk.
"Nevertheless, I have to consider the students who aren't transgender. What do I do about that?" She frowned.
"I don't know...what did the principal down in Little Rock do? What did they do up in Boston?" Dan said
"Come on, Dan, that's not fair at all. I have to be accountable to the needs or more than just a handful of students; this place functions almost like a democracy from what the school board imparted to me not 15 minutes ago."
"You know what the definition of a democracy is, Marion? Two foxes and a chicken deciding what to have for dinner!"
"This is not funny Dan. You can't pull crap like this without consequences. You do this again, and there'll be "hell to pay," as the Superintendent told me. And from now on, no more assemblies without my approval. The assembly you've got coming up is...postponed." She said it and turned away as if to get something out of her credenza.
"That's not fair. You approved that months ago. The speaker is coming all the way from Chicago...at her expense."
"I'm sorry Dan, but this isn't my call. I don't have much say in this either." Marion looked away once again. She turned back and there were tears in her eyes.
"Off the record, okay?" She said softly. Dan noticed the change in demeanor. He took a seat next to her and looked at her intently.
"This place pisses me off. They cry for diversity and then they pull this shit. We've known each other for a long time. You honestly don't think I'd pull this on you. It comes from further up the chain of command...way up." She frowned and put her hand on his arm.
"The mayor and city council met in an emergency session to discuss this. Apparently my inability to answer eighty-seven letters in one day was met with disapproval. Dan, if you do something like this again, they've promised me it will mean your job." She sighed and bit her lip.
"I understand." Dan said in resignation. Marion put her hand on his arm once again and said,
"For what it's worth, in my twenty-three years here, your act has to be one of the bravest, most considerate things I've seen. I am proud of you. On the record...you show up like that again, and you're fired." She said it in a half-hearted attempt at imitating Donald Trump, but she closed her eyes, put her head in her hands and started crying.
"Marion?" Dan said softly.
With her head still down, she reached out with on hand and gripped his before letting go. Dan rose and left the office, locking the door behind him.
Six months later:
“Are...are you sure about this?” The voice called with hesitation from the bathroom. The woman lay on the bed, her long blond hair draped over the edge, almost like an old pin up. She wore a long mint green satin robe which lay open, exposing her body. Her hands caressed her breasts and she cooed softly.
“Of course, my darling.” She purred. The room was dimly lit from the light streaming from the door of the bathroom, which was only slightly ajar. The voice called out again.
“I’m afraid.” The voice almost cried.
“Honey, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of. This is who you are…we’ve known it for some time. Come and love me….like you always have.” The woman on the bed smiled to herself, feeling content.
“I’m not the one you fell in love with,” the voice called out again. “You married me thinking I was going to be the strong one…the one who would protect you. I can’t even protect myself.” The voice sobbed.
The woman looked up from the bed to the doorway of the bathroom. A figure stood in the doorway, trembling.
“Honey, come here, please.” The woman said. She looked up again.
“Trru….Trudeeeee…huuunnnneeee.” By now Dan was weeping. His body had already begun to change, the product of subtracting and adding, as the chemistry began his metamorphosis. Soon, there would be no turning back…perhaps an irrevocable decision that he still was unsure of.
“I’ll ask again, please come to me?” Trudy said softly, not as a command but a plea. “I married your heart. You know that. Things have never been what we wanted. My body is broken beyond repair and yet you have treasured me and loved me and held me close. How can I do anything different with you?” Her own eyes had filled with tears.
Dan wore a copper colored camisole and tap pants with a short robe, all in soft silk. For the first time, he had sprayed his body with the perfume that Trudy had bought for them both. He wore no makeup and his hair, while longer than ever before, still was more akin to a boy’s cut, and yet his body had begun to display the product of his journey…he was beginning to display a more feminine appearance, however subtle.
Still lying on her back, Trudy extended her arms toward him and said softly,
“You look lovely, sweetheart,” Her voice cracked as she began to sob softly as well.
“I’m so sorry…I’ve made you cry…I can’t do this to you.” Dan said. He turned to walk back into the bathroom, but was stopped by her call.
“Do not apologize for making me cry…I’m crying because you’re hurting…You have been carrying this for too long, Diane. No more. And no more Daniel…you are Diane to me, as if you had been Diane to me all along.” She would have turned and sat up but for the legs that no longer felt or supported or walked. “Come help me, please.” She was angry, more for the helplessness she felt, not for her body, but for the decades of doubt and shame her lover had been made to feel by unknowing and uncaring people.
“I know what you’re thinking, Diane and you’re wrong.” She welcomed his attention with a half-frown as he picked her up and placed her gently on the pillows piled against the headboard of the bed.
“We can never know how I would have felt if I never got hurt.” She frowned, not at Diane, but at her motionless legs, as if her eyes were gesturing.
“I have no feeling there,” she said as she looked at her body, “but I feel and enjoy and relish and savor every moment of every time we get together!” She bit her tongue as the tears fell onto her chest.
“You bring me great joy with your tenderness…your sweetness…as if I were the only woman in the world. Your words strengthen me and your kisses bless me, even if I can’t feel every kiss in every place in every way. Even if I have never felt you inside me, you invade me with your presence and fill me with great joy.”
She spoke almost as if she were singing a grand love song, for she loved and felt love in one moment. She pulled Diane to her and kissed her, over and over and over, laughing softly as they enjoyed each other, feeling truly blessed.
What would it be?
I ask myself what's the best thing for you
And myself and I seem to agree
That the best thing for you would be me
Next: I Remember You
The Best Thing For You
Words and Music by Irving Berlin
As Performed by Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvheuZA8p98
Comments
Transitioning in Arkansas
"Drea,
As usual, you have hit a home run.
I have an interesting book, State by State, a Panoramic Portrait of America, edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey. The essay on Arkansas was written by Kevin Brockmeier, and he discisses a left right battle that went on here for a number of years. There were bumper stickers proclaiming "Speak Up For Liberty" and "Speak Up For Decency". It was a not so subtle battle between the far right evangelistic, intolerant and the left leaning liberals. The time was 1991. The author speaks of being a senior at Parkview High School where the 'Liberty' stickers far out numbered the 'Decency' stickers. "We were the only school in the city (very probably in the state) with a preoperative transsexual in the student body." I don't remember any flap about it, and I think that was a reflection of the majority of the feelings there. I hope things went well for her (I'm assuming MTF here).
As your reference was to Arkansas, I would enjoy a little background.
Ciao bella,
Portia
Portia
This is a wonderful story of pain, struggle,
anguish, happiness, and support. All the elements everybody says is needed for a good transgender story. But I disagree. Even though most of us have these elements in our lives, there are those of us that for the most part had the support, acceptance, and happiness in our lives when it couonted the most; and that is in our pre-adolescence. Whatever happened after that we could deal with because we were raised with the strength to deal with it.
My book Chrissie is just such a book and tells of my pre-adolescent life in the upper midwest in the 1950's. Yes, I said 1950's. Not everybody who was transgendered back then felt the weight of the world, but had the understanding, accpetance, support and happiness of those around her.
We need to remember that this is not a life we asked for, but it is nonetheless our life, and it is the hand that we were dealt with. So let's play it out the best we know how...with brevity, strength, attitude, and rigor. Don't allow anybody to tell you that you are not a woman simply because you have a male body (just the opposite for female to male). We are ordinary women living in extraordinary circumstances, and I really don't care what others think. As I say in my poem I Don't Give A Care...
I Don't Give A Care
by Barbara Lynn Terry
I don't give a care,
of what you say,
or why you stare,
cause I know my way,
without compass or map.
You may think that I'm a sap,
for wanting to simply be,
physically this girl in me.
You may think that I'm a freak,
and beat me cause I am weak,
but I am strong inside my mind,
I know all about your kind,
and your need to show what a man you are,
but my destiny rides high above on a star,
that is lit up the brightest in the sky.
So when you see me, ask yourself why,
I don't give a care,
of what you say,
or why you stare.
And if we have this attitude going into our life's journey, then we can say without reservation that we are women, whether you agree or not, because I don't give a care of what you say or why you stare.
Thank you Drea, I just had to share this poem here because it has a lot to do with the story. Thank you for sharing.
"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."
Love & hugs,
Barbara
"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."
"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."
Love & hugs,
Barbara
"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."
What a day,
ALISON
'Drea,or more exactly,what a story to wake up to down here.Between the beauty of your story and Barbara's poem I need to go for a long walk in the morning light,to
reflect on man's inhumanity to man---or woman,or child.People subscribe to the idea of what is "normal", but I for one have never,ever, met a normal person.To me,they are all different,but spend their lives trying to live a "normal" life by all trying to dress alike,(as in fashion) but none of them look the same, and if you don't fit in to their idea of "normal" then you are an outcast in what they consider their "normal" life.
It is a bit like your definition of democracy,yes?
ALISON
Somehow I feel...
...safe a snug between Gram and Ginger. I would only echo their comments word for word, so allow me so say something different...BRAVA!!! I don't know how you do it but once again you've out done yourself in a simply short tale that reflects the true interpersonal relationships some of us are blessed with.
You Lil' Brat
beautiful, sensitive - a cameo...
One of your very, very best, honey - short and so, so sweet...... I just love it when you shake off the gloom and get inside the stresses of our relationships.... there's lots of hope in here...... Wonderful!
Ciao, bella! Ginger xx
A Question of Balance - Down to Earth 1
It's a crying shame when a school goes against its policy of openness because someone takes them at their word, causing ruffled feathers.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
It's a shame...
...when a school goes against it's policy. But...guess what biscuit boy...they do it ALL THE TIME!!! Read a newspaper...it has pictures!!!
Mea the Magnificent
BTW...be sure to read the next chapter of "The Gift" by the award winning author Meaghan Tracey.
Bailey Summers In awe, God I
Bailey Summers
In awe, God I absolutely love the monologue sort of scene you wrote for Dan/Dianne's wife I really and truly loved it.
I cried like I was watching Extreme Home Makeover.
Bailey Summers
truly a beautiful piece
i wish the voting abplication was up, because this one deserves one (or two)
The voting thing may be gone
But that just means I get to vote for this TWICE!
I thought there might be some repercussions to Dianne coming out at that assembly,
I'm just glad they weren't more severe than they were. Some folks sure get anxious
at the idea of people being allowed to be who they are, they'd rather we all implode
quietly, out of sight somewhere, than to be made to feel slighty uncomfortable by things
that challenge their rigid worldview. Oh well. Glad to see you continuing this Drea.
You've said magical fiction isn't really your thing, yet you do it well...
~~~huggles, Laika (& Kiki tha wonderkat...)
And remember...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifLqzLEB3E0
The voting thing may be gone
But that just means I get to vote for this TWICE!
I thought there might be some repercussions to Dianne coming out at that assembly,
I'm just glad they weren't more severe than... Oh, I already said that.
~~~Laika & Kiki, the Double-post Twins
And remember...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifLqzLEB3E0
The Reason I Don't Comment
On a lot of your stories, 'Drea, is because (a) I'm crying so hard that I can't see the keyboard, and (b) wetting the keyboard ruins my laptop, so it becomes too expensive. I'm on my sixth since you joined BC (not really...only joking)
Another little gem. You capture emotion so well. No magic in this one except the magic of your gentle touch,
Joanne