Jennifer Mahoney
This is the third installment in a multi-part series on going full time. The story so far: I'm an MTF professor at a college in New England, married, with children. I began the familiar Rose Parade of Transition that you've all memorized so well by now, starting January 2000. By June of this year I was well into therapy, hormones, working on maintaining my relationship, helping my children, starting electrolysis, and telling most of my close friends.
In May and June I began to come out to the college administration, starting with the affirmative action officer, and then going to the president and working my way on down the chain of command. During this time I had as many personal conversations as I could with folks that I wanted to hear the news directly from me.
On Flag Day I emailed 112 faculty and staff members and told them there would be important news about me coming in the form of a letter delivered to their homes in the next day or two. I then immediately dropped my coming out letter in the mail. And then sat back to await the community's reaction.
Which brings us to today's column.
It should probably surprise no one, but transsexuals themselves, that what we imagine as the shocking truth is something that the rest of the world can, for the most part, deal with just fine. We internalize so much self-hatred and denial that the idea of even leaving the house -- once -- en femme (not to mention going full time) causes our heartbeats to double in our breasts. And yet, for those of us who do venture outside, people are for the most part, wonderful, supportive, or at the very worst, indifferent.
The reaction to my news was a huge wave of compassion and love. I have to say I was caught off guard by it. I expected things to go well -- if you do your homework in advance, they ought to -- but I never expected people to rally around me the way they have.
I have to say that having taken this step, life as a woman began to seem rather routine, even within the week. Gender struggle has already begun to fade in importance in my life, which is fine with me.
Which is to say -- life goes on. The sense of wonder and amazement is still there, yes, but it does rather quickly mellow into a sense of business as usual.
And business as usual for me includes all my concerns as a writer, a mother, a partner, and a friend. The needs of others--particularly my sister, who I learned at this time has been diagnosed with cancer-- now take precedent. The process of transition and coming out have occupied my thoughts so thoroughly over the last year or two that there hasn't been a lot of room for anybody else.
Until now. Now I need to use this woman's life I have been given to make things better for those I love. I need to take my children to camp. I need to make my partner a lobster dinner. I need to pay attention to my mother, whose presence in my life is a blessing. I need to clean the house and do the shopping. I need to attend to the young scholars and writers I work with, and shepherd them as best I can.
In other words, I need to get on with the business of life.
Any fool with $15,000 can go from being male to female if she wants to. The hard part is going from being someone who lives in her head to someone who lives in the world.
Thanks to everybody who's written in the last month or two. I love hearing from you, and want to encourage you all to find the courage to make your own journeys, whatever they may be.
I'll close with a few of the many letters I received as a reaction to my news. I've changed some of these slightly in order to protect the authors' privacy.
I. From the Dean of Students:
Dear Jenny,
It is 11 p.m. Thursday night and it is the first chance I have had to write you after today's heartfelt discussion.
I am glad I could be part of the celebration of this moment, after this long week and the many years it has taken to get to this point. I was thrilled to think in retrospect that we could even get into the fun part of thinking of clothes, nails, hair etc... and more importantly, the way we view the world. It's great over here on the female side and as we say... Go Girlfriend! We draw lots of support from one another and so I am here for whatever, whenever you might need me.
You are a brave soul, my friend and now sister....I am so glad I know you.
Love, Brenda
II. From the Chair of Chemistry:
Dearest Jen:
It was with trepidation that I opened your envelope this afternoon, after retrieving it from school. I'd so deeply feared I would hear tragic news -- my deepest fear -- that you were leaving us for a wonderful opportunity elsewhere. To learn of your marvelous new journey was indeed, in all honesty, a genuine relief, though a relief tinged with deepest concern for the pain you've gone through in coming to this point in your life. But in many ways I find myself feeling precisely as does your sister in law -- "I'd thought it was something serious!"
To be sure, this is indeed a most serious matter, but I recognize at the outset that this is not a DECISION you've made -- but is more a recognition of a state of existence that already is in place and of which you he been painfully aware for an enormity of time. I don't know why, but I didn't find it really all that surprising. I've always personally felt more comfortable in the company of women, and you've been one of the few men with whom I felt equally comfortable. This now makes perfect sense to me.
I know that you will face many obstacles, and there will be those who will find your change difficult to understand. But please know as well that anything I can offer or do to help will immediately be at your disposal. I will love you as a woman as I have loved you as a man -- as someone with a deepness of spirit and wealth of soul unparalleled in my experience, someone whose wisdom I always found imbued with a richness of compassion and understanding. It will take a little adjustment to get used to you in a different "look", but as you pointed out yourself, the same person with the same memories and the same intellect, and for the most part the same psyche will be living in the newly transformed body. I fully expect you'll also be both happier and so much more at ease with yourself, just as you do.
You'd said you knew the coming years would take much courage. I would contend you have already clear demonstrated that you have that courage. Coming face-to-face with this reality, and sharing this most personal revelation with your close friends and colleagues, took greater courage than most of us can ever dream of having. Clearly the support of your present family is critically important and a major source of strength; know as well that you have a much large extended family out here who can also be called upon at any time.
I appreciate so very much your sharing this most special personal revelation with me, and am honored that I am considered special enough to be a recipient. If there is anything I can do, any service I can provide, please do not hesitate to ask, and it shall be yours.
With best wishes, and deepest affection always, Ted
III. From a professor of American Studies:
Jenny,
I just wanted to say again how much I admire your bravery, your decision to pursue being the person you really are. A little while ago, I heard an interview on NPR with Deirdre McCloskey, the economist (who lived much of her early life as a man, Donald McCloskey) and she said something along the lines of "There are so many people who spend their entire lives being not quite themselves." And she was talking about how sad that was, and how freeing to become herself, the person she always, deep down, felt herself to be. And I've thought back on that statement many times, because I think so many of us, to a greater or lesser degree, are pursuing an authentic self, and it's a really difficult and confusing journey. Your journey is, in the nature of it, more public than some, and therefore even more scary and taxing. But also, I would imagine, exhilarating in ways that are difficult to describe to other people.
I hope you know that you have my full support. And I think many people I know are going to be extremely supportive, in ways that will be hard to anticipate. Without being corny about it, I think what you're doing is inspiring and--well, very empowering, not just for yourself, but for everyone who knows you who may also long to be more themselves. Bon courage, if that's a phrase--you're an amazing person and I know you have many good things ahead of you.
Cecily
IV. From a friend in California:
Dear Jenny,
Congratulations!
I was so worried that you were going to send terrible tidings. I'm so relieved. Your news actually didn't strike me as all that drastic at all. It just makes total sense.
I'm so glad that you're finally going to be able to be who you really are. I can't imagine how difficult it has been for you, not only for all those years, but in your present unfolding.
I think it's always seemed like you have been uncomfortable in your own skin. I haven't had enough imagination to realize you've actually been uncomfortable in your gender, but as I said, it makes perfect sense. All I can say is that I've loved you as John and I will love you more as Jennifer because you will be more yourself. I am delighted for you, and from the sound of it, you have the support of all the key people around you, which is great. I know it will be hard for the first few years to be whispered about by students and such, but all that will fade, and fuck 'em in the meantime. You've always been a somewhat notorious character around campuses anyway.
Your letter to me and the letter to the faculty were both beautiful.
Don't think that your news disappoints me in any way at all. I am 100% on your team. Now when I bitch about how fucked up men are, you can just nod along and be glad you aren't one of them. I'm just really, really happy for you. Next time I see you, we'll drink champagne!
I love you, Jenny, and I wish you luck in shaking off that old skin and becoming a butterfly. Thank God you have a sense of humor to handle all of this.
Love, Julie
V. From the Chair of the Psychology Dept:
Dear Jenny,
Dare I say, "Welcome to the sisterhood"! Thank you for sharing your beautiful letter with me. I am filled with admiration for your openness and courage and wish for you the best in this journey. I'm very glad you plan to continue at our college.
To the future...
Warm regards,
Ursula
Transgender Forum readers: I do want to acknowledge that my experience coming out at a liberal arts college in New England is rather gentler than the reaction many others receive in their situations, and I am not blind to the advantages of living where I do, and working at an institution whose very charter enshrines "learning about, and having respect for, persons different from ourselves." At the same time, I think that we can increase the odds of things going well by acting like professionals -- by walking tall -- and by carrying ourselves with dignity, self-respect, courage, and a sense of humor.
Cheers!
Jenny Mahoney is an author and a professor who lives in New Hampshire. You can email her at Jenny19999@aol.com.
