The State of Texas has decided that citizens must have had 16 years anniversaries of their date of birth before they are deemed mature enough to be licensed to operate a motor vehicle. Lisa and I were approaching our 15th birthdays. Hers was August 1st, mine was August 13th. The state makes an exception for special cases where circumstances necessitate a 15 year-old being licensed one year earlier. Aunt Katy agreed to sign the paperwork for Lisa and, with my mom’s permission, for me to take advantage of this exception. Why would she do this? First, the rules are very lax as to what makes the earlier licensure necessary. Second, Lisa, as I said before, could sell ice to an Eskimo. (Is that racist? Go tell someone who cares!) It didn’t take her long to talk Aunt Katy into signing this, and we were both itching to drive.

We knew the written part of the test was simple, and we figured we would pass the driving part as long as we didn’t ram someone’s rear end or kill a pedestrian. Regardless, we could not let history say we failed a driver’s license exam.

Aunt Katy had Lisa at DMV at opening time on her birthday. In less than one hour, she left there driving home with her temporary license. I thought I saw indentations on the dash of their car from Aunt Katy’s fingernails. Lisa is 12 days older than I am, so I had to ride nervously and anxiously while she drove. This made me feel very inferior and, had it been someone besides Lisa, I probably couldn’t have stood it.

When my birthday came, Lisa insisted that she drive me to DMV. It took a similar amount of time and the results were the same. We were both mobile! Aunt Katy was not … at least for one day. We must have driven her car 1,000 miles between the two of us. At one point, we found ourselves in a ‘bad’ part of town. We locked the doors as the ragged denizens closely watched the two little rich white girls who looked very out of place in their neighborhood in a shiny silver Land Rover. We could see a freeway, however, and made our escape. The roads in Houston are complex, but the freeway system is pretty simple.

We made our way back to River Oaks with a new appreciation for our living arrangements. We pulled into the long driveway and parked Aunt Katy’s car in its place; travelers returning from the journey. I can’t say we were tired of driving, but we got our fill for the day. We were ready for vehicles of our own, but we figured that would be asking a bit too much; at least for now. We figured that soon they would become necessities of life; food, clothing, shelter, and a vehicle.

As Lisa handed her mom the keys, I commented, “There are some really poor people in Houston.”

“Oh? Where did y’all go?”

“We went a lot of places,” Lisa volunteered, “but, as long as we could see a freeway, we knew we were not lost.”

“Well, y’all be very careful. There are some poor people, but there are some very bad people in Houston also.”

“Ok, mom. Sorry.”

“What’s up now for you two?”

“Guess we’ll head to the pool. Want to wash the city of Houston off of us.”

“Well, don’t drown.”

“It’s fine; if one of us drowns, the other can come tall y’all about it!”

“Oh yeah; that’s what’s important; telling us. Just make sure the other girl has really drowned before you come tell us. No false alarms! That would be so inconvenient!”

“Got it! See you, mom.”

With the beginning of school looming, the two weeks left of summer were filled with more driving and less swimming. We volunteered to run errands, go grocery shopping, any excuse to get to drive.

Our new school was pretty close, but just a little too far to walk. Some days, Aunt Katy let us use her car; some days, mom let us use her car. The rest of the time one of them drove us to school.

It was a girls only school, which was a big change from public school. Lisa and I found the change refreshing, unlike many other girls who complained about the absence of boys.

Our uniforms consisted of a white shirt, grey vest, and grey pleated skirt. It wasn’t that bad. It saved the time which would have been used picking an outfit every morning. Picking out an outfit every morning would have been kind of fun, but you can’t have it all.

One of the major differences we saw between public school and our new private school was the quality of the teachers. The teachers in our school were the cream of the crop. They loved to teach and took an interest in each student. This was facilitated by the smaller class sizes. My largest class was comprised of 15 students. The material was not easy, but it was made clear what was expected of us and there were no surprises on exams. Most of the teachers were well liked by students and everyone realized that we were all on the same ‘side’, if there were ‘sides’. Education was key. Tuition was high; so high that it was not an issue because, like the restaurant we went to the first day we got to town; if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.

If, as I said, education was key, but discipline followed close behind in importance. The rules were not overly restrictive, but they were not to be questioned, and violations were met with quick and public punishment. I say ‘public’ meaning public among the student body. Rule breakers were shamed for their behavior. Chronic rule breaking resulted in dismissal, which was a rare last step and was not to be reversed.

One thing that was not tolerated was any student who thought that disobedience was ‘cute’ or ‘clever’. The school did not need an ‘underground hero’, so that attitude was dealt with harshly. School administrator knew that problem could spread quickly, with disastrous results. Parents’ political connections were irrelevant, because the school was not funded by any government institutions.

All this sounds very negative, but the atmosphere at the school was anything but negative. Learning prospered in a positive and friendly atmosphere. Lisa and I were very happy to be there.

I’m sure my unusual gender history was known by someone in the system, but it was not an issue. I’m not a transsexual, but I don’t think it would have been an issue if I were. I am growing accustomed to my new life. Still, every day I was learning new rules, expectations, advantages, disadvantages, etc. regarding my new identity. I was also learning more about the attitudes people have toward me and other females. Doors are now opened for me. Men smile when they make eye contact with a pretty girl. Hey! They even smile when they make eye contact with me!

It’s hard to describe the subtle differences between the way girls interacted with me as my old school and the new school. Before, I was seen as a somewhat ‘sissy’ male. The girls were friendly to me, but there always seemed to be a bit of condescension. It was so subtle that they probably didn’t even realize it. Since I’m the only one who noticed, you might think it was my imagination. It was there, but I never let it bother me. Now that I was just another girl, the condescension was replaced with an almost imperceptible hint of animus. Even though there were no boys at school, I was a potential competitor. That could be seen as a compliment. One had to be pretty to be considered competition. Plain girls were just … there; someone to be ignored.

Lisa and I tried to set aside all the social niceties and concentrate on learning. As I indicated, the absence of boys was a big plus for the two of us.

The semester seemed to fly by. My mom informed me that we would be having visitors for Christmas vacation. To these visitors, my gender history might be an issue.

Next: Gender back on the front burner