A Capitol Idea

Morning was the reverse of going to bed, with each of us getting dressed separately in the bedroom. Breakfast was simple, cereal and toast, and we were on our way. There was even parking near the place, so we walked over to the Capitol building. The grounds were huge and had several monuments here and there. We stopped at one and read the plaque.

"You've got to be kidding me!" exclaimed Caitlyn.

"Nope, the people who put this thing up were racist to the core," her mother replied.

"But those yahoos were Confederate leaders! Traitors!"

"And proud of it. Their descendants are now legislators, my dear. They can't screw blacks so easily any more, so they just pick another target. Like transgenders."

"Are they going to get away with it?"

"Almost certainly. The troglodytes have the votes. The liberals can obfuscate and delay, we can let them know what we think of them, but don't be too disappointed when we lose."

"Then why bother?"

"Because it is never wrong to do the right thing, even if it isn't the popular thing."

"I guess…"

So we headed for the main building. One thing for sure, the guys that built these palaces sure didn't give a hoot about helping the handicapped. Every entrance had about twenty steps to get to it. There was one forlorn little wheelchair sign with an arrow pointing to the back, where the modern addition had a door that someone in a wheelchair could use.

Servant's entrance in the back, right?

So we climbed the steps to be greeted by a trooper with an automatic rifle. He pretty much sat on the balustrade and vaguely acknowledged us.

"No matter how nice the guy is in greeting us," Caitlyn's Mom said, "having that weapon sure sends the wrong message to anyone wanting to talk to their legislator. Then again, when the legislators told everyone they could carry guns whenever they wanted and to hell with things like permits, I guess they didn't want to be an easy target."

"At least he isn't in all white like the Star Wars troopers," Caitlyn observed.

"Yeah," I said, "Then we wouldn't have to worry about his gun. Those guys never hit their targets."

Then came the metal detector, which I passed (I guess the hardware on my bra wasn't enough to set it off.) and the purse inspection, which I also passed. That done, we walked down halls with so much marble they must have been digging it out of the ground for decades. There was enough dark wood that they must have leveled three forests. Sure was impressive, though.

We finally made it to the center of the building, where we could look up at the dome. We later learned that the architects had orders to be sure that our dome was higher than the dome in Washington DC. Yup, the pettiness of our legislators was there right from the start.

Our parents had found out that several of the groups who were protesting the anti-trans laws had managed to reserve a room to gather in, which is something that I found odd. Why would they let people who opposed their bigoted laws have a place to gather? I never did find out why.

In any case, Mom asked one of the numerous troopers (not one toting a big, ugly rifle!) how to find the room and off we went down a long hall. The hall was lined with portraits of grumpy old white men in dark suits. I suppose they were trying to look distinguished, but to me they just looked grumpy. They were just as welcoming as the gun-toting troopers.

I was starting to feel pretty insignificant walking along that long, high ornate hall with those disapproving stares when Caitlyn took my hand and suddenly I felt much better. She whispered "Now I know what if feels like to be a bug in a collection!" and I had to laugh.

The glare of those old buggers made me think of the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz, and I couldn't help it. I started skipping and singing We're Off To See The Wizard just to spite them. Caitlyn caught on quick and sang along while our mothers looked at us like we were crazy. Maybe we were.

We finally made it to the reserved room and went in. I don't know what I was expecting, but the crowd already there was about as diverse as anyone could imagine. My eye was immediately drawn to two Goth girls - spiky hair, lots of black makeup and black everything else. Their black corsets highlighted two pairs of lily-white breasts that would have been right at home in an English ballad. They made my modest and well-concealed inserts seem insignificant!

They certainly stood out, but there were young men with wispy beards, middle aged women who looked like suburban housewives, dudes in suits, kids our own age in T-shirts and jeans, even old geezers with pot bellies and gray, bushy beards. Caitlyn and I just sort of blended right in to the milling crowd.

Eventually a young guy who would have been right at home as a summer camp counselor stood up and asked for quiet. He explained who was sponsoring this gathering and what they hoped to accomplish. Actually, accomplish was too strong a word. About all we could do is observe and hope sanity and justice prevailed.

Right - that day reinforced the strong streak of cynicism I already had.

They had a slide show of some of the people who had a history of trying to goad trans supporters into making fools of themselves, along with a bit of their history. They had counselors to help if anyone got too upset at the legislative circus. Mostly they warned that it was going to be boring!

Boring? How could something so important be boring? If you can ask that question you've never watched a legislature at work. After spending that day at the leg, I think you are wonderfully lucky if you never have the opportunity.

Firstly, the trans bills were not expected to be voted on until later in the day, there was a whole bunch of other stuff first. The camp counselor guy explained that this was a day devoted to voting on the bills they had already debated, so there wouldn't be much debate until the trans bill, which was still controversial.

So the meeting broke up with up with a warning to stay away from the people in purple shirts who were going to "protect our children" by denying them medical care. We were also warned to refer any reporters to one of the group leaders, as there were some of them just itching to make headlines by tripping one of us up.

When the meeting broke up, we ended up next to someone who was named Quincy. Quincy was an enigma. About my height, but big boned (not an euphemism for fat, just built wide) wearing quite a bit of leather but baby-faced and with a high voice. From my vast experience in watching bras on girl's backs I realized there was no bra to watch but from the front there were bumps maybe about as big as my own. Of course, on Quincy's body they were not very noticeable.

Oh the irony! Here I was, a boy trying to be the best girl I could be at a gathering to support transgendered people and I couldn't decide if Quincy was a boy or a girl. It bothered me that I was bothered by not knowing. Could feeling like this be why those people in the purple shirts were so upset about transgendered people? Quincy seemed to be happy being Quincy, so why did it bother me?

It was much later when I found Quincy was FTM, but by then we were friends and it didn't matter.

We headed off to observe our legislators in session, where I found out everything I thought I knew about the place was just plain wrong. I think it was Mark Twain that observed that 'People who love sausage and respect the law should never watch either being made.' I actually did get to watch sausage being made on a class trip to one of those colonial village places. Not a pretty sight, we lost several classmates who had to run for the toilets. At least I wasn't one of them. Oh, and the sausage tasted good!

Law, on the other hand…

First, I was expecting to see an impressive chamber for the lawmakers. I had only seen pictures of the US congress, with the curved rows of seats surrounding a dais. Not here, the chamber looked for all the world like my study hall, if you tripled the size and put a balcony around it. Really, it was full of study tables with laptop computers on them and there were people in suits chasing all over the place. On the front wall was what looked like a bingo scoreboard, but it had all the representatives names on it with red or green lights to tally the votes.

Second, I thought those guys spent their days debating. Nope - remember this was the day devoted to voting. One after one the bills came up, someone read the title and made a brief statement and then they voted. Red and green lights lit up and someone whacked a gavel and said if it passed or failed.

Much of it I didn't understand, being technical amendments to various laws or subjects about which I knew nothing. Guess what - it was boring! Other than watching a dozen or so purple shirt people nothing exciting happened, so we left after a while to have lunch.

Someone had reserved a section of the cafeteria for us, probably to keep us isolated from the purple shirt gang so no fights got started. I got to talk to several people during the break and learned I wasn't the only boy there who liked being a girl. In fact, I don't think anyone figured out I was a boy. By the time lunch was over I realized that no matter what clothes people were wearing they were people.

The afternoon was a little different. We gathered in a room that was for all the world a small theater. I still don't know how the group managed to get such accommodation when we were protesting the high-handed actions of the bigoted legislature. There we watched the legislative session on the screen, which was much better than being there live. You could see who was talking and hear them clearly.

Finally the anti-trans bill came up and we all shut up to listen. The Good Guys came out of the box protesting, starting with the name of the bill, making it clear that this would harm trans kids, not protect them. Then the sound shut off - only the floor debate would be broadcast, "internal communications" were private. I suppose that, considering the level of BS so far in the day, it wasn't surprising that they would want to hide just what they were doing. And that's how it went, a few sentences, a challenge, then silence.

Two hours later we gave up and went back to the RV, disgruntled and tired. Listening to the news, nothing happened for the rest of the day. The bill passed the following day, to no one's surprise, and trans people in the state were told they were not wanted and could just die and go away.

The hate didn't affect me directly, since I was not taking any medication or anything, but if I did find out there was more to this stuff than just wearing the clothes I was going to be in a world of hurt.

Since we were in the state capitol, the parents decided we should spend the day seeing the sights and being tourists, then go back home on Monday. No objection from Caitlyn or me, we got to run around in our pretty clothes and have fun and our parents let us skip school. Who were we to argue?

So, Did I Want To Be A Girl?

Dumb question, huh?

So that's it, before my first week as a crossdresser was finished I was told I was crazy and didn't deserve any treatment even if I needed it. It didn't stop me from dressing, and Caitlyn and I spent a good deal of time as girlfriends until the end of high school. After that, you can be sure we went to college out of state in a place that had sane people running it.

Well, that may be overstatement, but at least I could get the medical treatment I needed. I'm full time these days, living as a woman and with an understanding partner. No, it isn't Caitlyn, we remain friends but live several hundred miles apart. I'm in politics these days, and running for the state leg. If I win, I'll be the first trans member, so I'm going to give it my all.

Author's Note

Warning: political plug.

While the story carefully does not identify Lucy's home state, the scene at the legislature actually happened here in Texas, with the exception of me being fifteen years old. My wife and I were there to protest, for all the good it did. It didn't drive me into politics, but my wife is hip deep in organizing a protest at the Texas legislature. Reverend Barber's Poor People's Campaign plans to show up at every state capitol on March 2, 2024. I hope anyone reading this will consider joining us if you don't like what has been happening to our country.