(aka Bike) Part 1373 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad
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Gina Herring sat nervously sipping her tea. “What don’t you know?” I asked her.
“I–um–love little Carl, but I don’t know if I can cope with him wanting to be a girl.”
“What’s there to cope with?”
“The embarrassment.”
“Yours or his?”
“Mine I suppose, how do I face the neighbours? What do I tell my parents, and my husband–thinks it’s dreadful–I just don’t know what to do?”
“Have you been in touch with Mermaids?”
“Dr Rose gave me a website address–did you use them?”
“I didn’t need to, I just accepted what they wanted to do, Simon and Daddy and the others came on board just as quickly.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I didn’t–we all love the children, so when it happened we accepted it in the same way we would have done if they’d had red hair or been black skinned or anything else which they have no control over.”
“I guess they don’t.”
“Look gender identity is so important, it’s probably determined between the second and fourth years of life, and ever after their experiences either confirm or reject what they feel.
“What’s total irrational is that if a girl starts acting like a boy, it’s seen as okay–if a boy starts acting like a girl–he’s some sort of freak. Why? We are all human beings, so why does it matter if we’re men or women black or white or anything else–I’ll tell you why–because we live in a patriarchy, that’s why.” I got off my feminist soap box.
“You didn’t find it strange that your son wanted to dress like a girl?”
“No, I like to dress as one–don’t you?”
“Yes, but we’re females–so it’s okay.”
“What’s wrong with a boy dressing as a girl–I’m wearing trousers, I’ll bet you do too.”
“Of course I do, but for a boy to wear skirts and call himself Carla, is wrong.”
“It is to you, it obviously isn’t to her.” I emphasised the pronoun.
“But it’s he not she.”
“Not in her eyes. You’re seeing the world through your eyes–so you’ll never understand–you have to try and see it through hers.”
I went and got a copy of the French film, Ma vie en Rose, which is a beautiful film and shows as well as anything I’ve seen, the world through the eyes of a transgendered child. The little boy who plays the lead is wonderful. I handed it to Gina–“Watch this with your husband–it might help.”
“Is it a documentary?”
“No it’s a feature film, but it’s beautifully done–have some tissues with you.”
“Is it sad?”
“Not really, it’s just so beautiful you’ll want to cry–I did.”
“Thank you.”
She sipped another cuppa, “So you think I’ve just got to be brave for Carl’s sake.”
“You have to be brave for Carla’s sake, and to carry the others through. Speak with Mermaids, they’re good and Dr Rose can give you the name of a good children’s psychiatrist.”
“Psychiatrist?” she gasped, “He’s not mentally ill is he?”
“No, if she is transgendered, then she’s not mentally ill, but could become so if she’s not allowed to express it–depressed and so on. It isn’t an illness it’s a variation on the norm, like left-handedness.”
“You won’t be ostracised because you write with the other hand, will you? So how can you compare the two, they’re hardly the same are they? People don’t laugh at you because you’re left handed.”
“People soon stop laughing if you take no notice.”
“How can I deal with him going to school?”
“Send her to a girl’s school.”
“They’re hardly likely to accept a boy in skirts, are they?”
“If you see her as a boy in skirts, then how can you expect others to see her any other? If you can’t be bothered–why should anyone else?”
A tear rolled down her face. “How did you deal with it?”
“I never saw her as a boy in skirts, I saw her as a girl with a plumbing problem.”
“You’re a very special mum, aren’t you?” she said and I think she meant it in a positive way.
“No more than you–I was able to deal with it–so will you and for the same reason–we love our children and we do what we have to do for them to be happy.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If I can be of any further help.” I handed her my mobile number, “Feel free to call if you need to talk.”
“Mummy can we have a drink?” called Trish.
“Yes, can you do it?”
“Of course I can, Mummy, I am seven you know.” She popped her head round the door–“Oh, sorry–can I give Carla one, as well?”
Gina nodded and Trish laughed and ran off. “Why is she calling him Carla?”
“She doesn’t have the inhibitions you have, besides she likes being a girl and thinks everyone else should too.”
“So which one of yours is gender variant?”
“You tell me.” I stood up and walked towards the kitchen beckoning her to follow. Trish was pouring squash into plastic beakers and Livvie was filling them from the filter jug of cold water. Meems was holding the biscuit tin and Carla was wearing one of Meems’ dresses, which fit quite well, she also had painted toenails and fingernails and loads of bangles on her arm. Looks like the girls have been playing with a life size Barbie doll.
“There you are, Carla,” said Livvie handing out the beakers, and the little painted fingers accepted it.
“Thank you, Livvie,” said the child who turned round and seeing us standing there squealed and dropped the beaker, “Mummy,” she shrieked and began to cry.
“Baby,” said Gina and picked up her child, both were now crying.
“Bugger,” said Trish and went to get a cloth.
“I didn’t know you were there, Mummy,” sobbed Carla.
“I’m sorry I frightened you, baby,” Gina sobbed back.
“I’ve been playing with the other girls–it was so nice. I’m sorry I dropped my cup, Lady.”
“It’s Mrs Cameron,” corrected his mother.
“Actu–lee, it’s Lady Cameron,” corrected Trish cleaning up the spilt drink with the floor mop, “And my daddy’s Lord Cameron.”
“Is this right–you’re Lady Cameron?”
“I’m afraid so, though we tend to downplay it most of the time.”
“I saw you mentioned in the local paper–you’re an actress aren’t you?”
“No–I’m a biologist.”
“They said you were starring in some play with Matthew Hines, the film star.”
“He’s agreed to help out to raise money for my daughter’s school.”
“But you’re acting too?”
“Yes, but I’m not an actress–I’m a teacher.” Though in some respects it’s the same thing, trying to hold the attention of your audience to entertain or inform them.
“C’mon, Carl, better get you changed back to go home.”
“Do I have to, Mummy?”
“Yes, you need to give the little girl her dress back.”
“That’s okay, it’s one of my owd ones,” said Meems, and I nodded in agreement.
Livvie appeared a few moments later with Carla’s boy stuff in a plastic carrier bag.
“His father’s going to kill us,” said Gina pulling a face. “You sure I can cope with this?”
“D’you love her?”
She nodded and a tear escaped her eye, “Yes,” she croaked.
“Then you’ll cope.”
“Thank you, um–Lady Cam...”
“It’s Cathy–and call me if you need to talk.”
“Can I go to a girl’s school like Trish and Mima do, Mummy?”
“I don’t know s–girl, one thing at a time eh?”
I walked them to the car.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
“If what you do is done with love, and real love not the imaginary or selfish sort–how can you do wrong. Follow your heart, it won’t lead you far wrong.”
“I’ll try,” she said getting into the car. “Thanks, Cathy.”
I smiled and surrounded by four girls and Danny waved her and her daughter off. I had grave doubts that it would work out for little Carla, but I bathed her in blue light as she got in the car and I hoped it would help.
Trailer for Ma vie en Rose
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0b0F8HAJgI
Comments
I do hope
ALISON
'that the 'Blue Light"does the trick.Cathy's advice was so spot on.Beautiful.
ALISON
Ma Vie en Rose
Another of my innocent not-at-all-guilty pleasures. Unfortunately, my copy is on VHS so I can no longer play it.
Perhaps...
Cathy could try blue lighting Gina, and possibly leap-frogging it to the dad?
Let's just hope he's not another Bradley Kemp...
--B
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
I realise how done I am.
The trailer is very nice. After viewing it, I really came to appreciate just how done I am with people who don't accept me and just how determined I am to lead a normal life in stealth. I'd rather die than spend one more day otherwise
Not sure what a blue light bath
for little Carla did but if the light wanted to go to her that's what was needed. Hoping it gave her strength and confidence to be herself. Noticed that Gina never tried to guess which of Cathy's girls was transgendered. I'm sure she wouldn't have been able to.
Is Trish trying out the "My daddy is a lord" thing now? Not like she needs any artificial status boost.
Will it work?
I don't know but it's going to be a hell of a job curing the paren't preconceptions and (dare I say it?) bigotry.
As is bent the twig so grows the tree and it seems both parents are locked into their patriachal roles.
Carla is in for a stormy ride and therefore a bloody difficult, (nay destructive,) journey, especially if her mum can't get over it.
Good chapter Angie, it dwells upon the issues and captures Cathy's feelings neatly.
This would be food for thought to those who probably rarely touch this site but all of us here on BC know the issues and the assorted effects on our lives.
I wonder where and when Carla and her mum will re-appear in 'Bike'.
Love and hugs.
Bev
XZXX
Growing old disgracefully.
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1373
Hopefully, seeing Carla with the girls will hep her mum as well as the blue light.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
THANK YOU!!!
That was such a LOVELY episode! Thank you soooo much. It does make me think/wonder more than a little...
Thank you!
Anne
It's always difficult for the little ones
Can you really blame the parents though? They are losing a lot of vesting of hopes and dreams for them. A beautiful little girl who decides she is really a he or a handsome boy who realizes he is a girl.
No beautiful bride for the father to give away, no mother daughter relationship. No father son moments.
It really brings me to tears what pain gender dysphoria brings to the people around us.
Kim
I own a copy
Of the French movie, definitely a tear jerker.
Sinister...
>> You won’t be ostracised because you write with the other hand, will you?
Well, actually yes, by some people, even in these "enlightened" times. I'm mostly ambidexterous, probably because I was "meant" to be left-handed and they were still teaching children to write "the right way" back then. All this namby-pamby "Let them use whichever hand comes naturally" stuff is a fairly late invention. I can fence with either hand, or play table tennis for that matter, which would be a nice party trick if not for the fact that table tennis is not my best sport. Fencing, on the other hand...
But alas, so very few people of quality come armed with swords to parties these days, so that trick isn't in great demand.
The word "sinister," hardly a word of good omen, means exactly "left-handed," and in Medieval times was a sure sign that one was possessed by Satan and should ought to be burnt at the stake. Since then, the word retains almost all of its "sinister" connotations.
So we have boys named "Dexter*," but very few named "Sinister" except in comic books, and they're usually aligned with evil.
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
* Admittedly rare these days, but purely a matter of taste, since it was so overused that people grew tired of it.
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
A dexter is also
a breed of small Irish cow - top o' da moo-rnin' to ya!
Angharad
Angharad
I hope it works out,
Carla's going to have a rough life otherwise.
That's not
the last we have seen of Carla, I'm sure.