Chapter 3

“Go ahead, young lady. You said you had a question?”

“Hypothetically, what would you say to someone who saw a stranger when they looked in the mirror. Like someone who was the wrong sex?”

There was a long pause, and then Norman’s teacher said, “I would say that person was possibly transgender.”

“Trans ... gender?”

“The medical term is gender identity disorder, or gender dysphoria.”

“So ... that person ... would be crazy?”

“No. Its no longer considered a mental illness.”

“So what advice would you give ... to that person?”

“I would tell the ... person ... that they could start with the GLBTQ club here on campus. They could also talk to the student counselling service. I also have a textbook here in my office. If that person wanted it.”

Norman blushed, and said, “Could I borrow it? I promise to give it back.”

The professor smiled, and stood up. He went over to a bookshelf, and pulled a book down.

“Here you go. I should warn you that this particular edition is several years old, and there are some references to the work of a Dr. Money in it. You can skip over that part.”

“Why?”

“Because the man was ... wrong.”

“Oh.” Norman said, feeling confused.

“I’ll discuss this in class this term. In the meantime, the book, the club, and the counselling service will help ... your person.”

Norman took the book, and left his office. Then he looked at his watch, and realized he had just enough time to make it to his next class if he ran.

So he ran.

The class was a fascinating one, on Political Geography. The first day the teacher had shown a video that showed how the political landscape had changed in Europe over the last five thousand years, and Norman had been hooked.

He was so into the class he almost forgot his problems until the bell rang.

For a moment once the class ended, Norman had no idea where he was supposed to go next. It wasn’t until he looked at his schedule that he remembered that today was a short day and that the class he had just finished was his last for the day.

Norman shook his head at his lapse.

“Oh well. I think I’ll try the LGBT group first.” He thought to himself, and headed for the student union building.

Once he arrived at the building, he struggled to contain his nervousness. The fact that such a group operated openly suggested that no pitchforks or torches would come out if he asked where they met, but the image he saw whenever he looked in the mirror was disconcerting enough to add a layer of nerves to anytime he spoke to people generally, and this situation was even worse than that.

But he steeled himself, and walked over to the information booth.

The student handed him a pamphlet without even blinking.

Norman looked at the pamphlet, and realized the group met in the basement of the student union building.

He was one step closer to his goal ...