When You Get It Wrong: How to Correct Yourself and Others When it Comes to Trans Identities

WHEN YOU MISGENDER SOMEONE

Even I, a nonbinary person with a trans husband, sometimes get people’s pronouns or preferred language wrong. Our brains are used to holding onto stereotypes and first impressions as shortcuts. It takes conscious effort to change how we perceive people and the language we are using for them. So, when someone you know comes out as trans or nonbinary, or simply asks you not to use certain language when referring to them, you will likely get it wrong at some point.

When you get it wrong, correct yourself and move on.

Do not apologize, especially not repeatedly or profusely. By apologizing, you are putting the focus on you and the mistake you made and forcing the trans person into the socially conventional role of either thanking you for the apology or excusing the original mistake, neither of which is acceptable.

The more you apologize, the more you are emphasizing the mistake in your brain. Repeating what you said with the correct pronouns, name, or other language is necessary to cement the correct version in your brain. The more you de-emphasize the mistake and emphasize the correct version, the faster your brain will adapt and stop making mistakes in the first place.

If someone else corrects you, say ‘thank you’ (not ‘sorry’), repeat it correctly, and move on.

Sometimes we are talking without hearing what we are actually saying and someone else hears the mistake for us. If the person you misgendered doesn’t correct you, it’s not because ‘it’s fine’ or they didn’t notice. Trust me, they did. It’s more likely that they don’t want to draw attention to the mistake, to themselves, or don’t have the energy to correct you and everyone else around them every time they are misgendered.

If the trans person or someone else catches your mistake and corrects you, that’s a good thing! That means that the culture of the place you are in or the relationship you have is one of support, openness, and inclusion. Respond to the mistake in a way that upholds this culture. Thank them for making the effort to bring your mistake to your attention, even though it meant going against social convention and interrupting the conversation. Correct yourself by repeating what you said with the correct language. And then move on by continuing with the conversation.

WHEN SOMEONE ELSE MISGENDERES SOMEONE

If people around you are making mistakes, make sure to correct them if you feel it is safe to do so. It is often easier to hear when other people make mistakes than when we do it ourselves. The more you correct someone else, the more you are emphasizing the correct version to yourself and others. You can correct others by interrupting them and stating the correct pronoun/name/language, by repeating what they said but using the correct pronoun/name/language, or by continuing on with the conversation, ensuring to use the correct pronoun/name/language with added emphasis.

If you know the person they misgendered personally, and especially if that person is often present when this misgendering occurs, consider asking them how they want you to respond in these situations. Depending on the relationships involved, they may prefer you don’t correct certain people in favour of preserving a tenuous connection. Or they may not feel comfortable correcting people themself but would really appreciate if you do it on their behalf. It may depend on who else is around or what context you’re in. Sometimes they don’t know yet and it takes some trial and error. You can always check back with them later to confirm or clarify their preferences.

WHAT IF THE PERSON THEY MISGENDERED WILL NEVER KNOW?

Let’s say you’re at a business meeting where a colleague is referring to a previous client who was trans. Or you’re a health care professional at a complex case discussion and someone brings up a case with a trans patient. Or you’re at a family gathering and your uncle refers to a celebrity who is trans. Now let’s say this colleague or family member uses transphobic or ignorant language when referring to the trans person.

What do you do?

You have three options:

  1. Correct them in the moment
  2. Correct them later, in private
  3. Don’t correct them at all

How you decide is important. If you would pick option 1 if there are trans people present who would be directly affected by their comments, and option 2 or 3 if there were no trans people present at the time, I take issue with this. You are assuming that you would know or be able to tell if there are trans people present. This means you are assuming that either trans people are recognizable by how they look (false), or that, because you are an ally, anyone who is trans or questioning would have told you (also false). It also means that you are assuming that if you don’t know of any trans people in the room, everyone must be cis. You are using cisgender as the baseline until proven otherwise rather than keeping an open mind.

I would prefer if you decide based on safety and energy. If you were to correct them in the moment, would it put you at risk, create a much bigger argument that would lead to significantly more transphobia rather than less, or use more energy than you personally have at this time? If any of these are true for you, then pick option 2 or 3, using the same questions to decide. If none of these are true for you, please choose option 1. You never know who in the room needs to hear the correction, either for themself, someone they love, or someone they will interact with in the near future.

Let’s look at each of these options in more detail.

Option 1: Correct them in the moment

This takes practice. The first few times someone says something transphobic in front of you it will be gone and the conversation will have moved on before your brain clicks in and says hey, that’s not right. If you are socially confident, you might be able to interrupt the conversation to make the correction. If not, it will take some planning and repetition.

Make note of phrases that you’ve encountered and what the correct phrase would be or what assumption needs to be corrected. Plan a one sentence correction that you could say. Also plan an interjection to use to get the attention of the people in the conversation first. There’s no point in making a correction if no one hears it. Something like “Excuse me, I heard you say something that I don’t think is right” works well.

The goal isn’t to create a debate around language use and trans issues. It’s to correct how they are referring to a person or using terminology in this context and continue the conversation. So keep your corrections relevant to the topic at hand, using examples specific to the current conversation.

This option takes significant confidence and energy, even if you aren’t a trans person. But it gets easier with practice. It also takes some quick calculations about what the social environment is, how the people in the room are likely to respond to your correction, and whether you have sufficient social capital to be heard. This is a small scale example of the types of calculations that trans people make all day long. It’s part of what it means to be an ally.

Option 2: Correct them later, in private

If, for whatever reason, option 1 isn’t going to be good for you or potential trans people in the room, or the moment passed and you didn’t recognize it or decide what to do about it until later, option 2 is the next best. You have time to think about what you want to say, gather some resources that might be helpful, and pick an appropriate time when they might be more receptive and/or you feel safer or more capable of making a good impact.

This can be a face to face conversation, a text, a phone call, or an email. Sometimes it’s best to have it in writing, sometimes not. You could also consider having backup included in the conversation if necessary – either someone else who was in the room, a supervisor, or an inclusion and diversity rep if one exists in your setting. You can make sure they go with you for the conversation or add them to the email, even privately if necessary.

The important part is that you take action. If the person who made the mistake is receptive, you will be supporting them in making a positive change and providing useful resources. If they aren’t receptive, you are safer and know that you’ll have to take it to the next level should this issue come up again.

The major drawbacks of this option are that the other people in the room didn’t hear the correction so a) they may not recognize that what was said was wrong, b) they may not know what should have been said instead even if they know it was wrong, and c) any trans, nonbinary, or questioning people in the room don’t know you are an ally. So, if you choose option 2, consider other things you can do to address these aspects as well.

Option 3: Don’t correct them at all

This is the least useful option but is also the safest. Only pick this option if you have no other choice. But, if you do have to pick this option, consider other ways you can get information out to the people around you about common errors or assumptions about trans people and corrections/accurate information. Because if you didn’t correct them, and no one else did, it’s not only the person that made the mistake that needs the information but everyone else who was present and didn’t say anything either.

I hope this helps you feel more prepared and more comfortable with correcting yourself and others instead of letting mistakes slide. Leave a comment below with your experiences of correcting yourself or others and any other tips or suggestions you have.


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From Baby to Toddler: First Birthday and First Anniversary of Birthing

MILESTONES VS ANNIVERSARIES

Milestones are typically cumulative: one leads to the next and to the next, either in number (as with birthdays) or in skill level (as with motor development). Anniversaries, on the other hand, are a remembering of a singular event. Milestones feel like an accomplishment, a moving forward. Anniversaries feel like pausing and looking back, to see how far we’ve come.

The first birthday of my child was a strange mix of both. Their first birthday: a huge milestone, and hopefully the first of many birthdays to come. The one-year anniversary of their birth: this time last year I was in labour for four days, having an experience unlike any other in my life.

The birthday celebration feels very external – it’s about the baby, how much they’ve changed and grown in one year (so much!) and celebrating with family. The anniversary of birthing feels very internal and personal. It’s an experience I went through with my husband that we have only shared with a couple people.

So how are you supposed to celebrate these two highly interconnected experiences that are so wildly different?

FIRST BIRTHDAY: IS IT REALLY THAT IMPORTANT?

For most birthdays, it’s all about the person who’s birthday it is. But for a child’s first birthday, they don’t really understand what’s happening, don’t have any expectations of what a birthday is, and won’t be disappointed if it is skipped altogether. So why bother with all the fuss?

For the parents of course! Getting through the first year of your child’s life is a huge accomplishment. Whether it felt easy or hard, take this excuse to celebrate!

We initially didn’t really care about having a party. Everyone was busy, I was navigating the end of parental leave and returning to work, and our kid was just starting daycare and was exhausted. But we knew we would feel disappointed if we didn’t. So we made it work. We had a small family gathering outdoors and our baby got to try cake for the first time. It was nothing extravagent but it was definitely important.

Our baby is now officially a toddler (but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop calling them my baby).

REMEMBERING THE BIRTHING PROCESS

In the days leading up to my baby’s first birthday, I was tracking what was happening the year before. A year ago at this time I was just starting labour. A year ago at this time we were talking to the midwife for the second day in a row. A year ago at this time things were getting pretty intense and I was already exhausted. A year ago at this time we were heading to the hospital. A year ago at this time we were holding our baby for the first time.

I had a long slow labour. This remembering, therefore, spans the three days prior to my baby’s birthday as well as the birthday itself. At the same time as wanting to remember these experiences, life was continuing on. I was at work one of those days. We were doing two hour daycare visits on two of those days. My husband was working for three of those days and we didn’t have much time to reminisce together. So sometimes, something important had happened the year prior, but the moment had already passed by the time I had the awareness to remember.

It felt like I was doing the experience and myself a disservice by missing these key moments. But really, no one around me knew or cared. It was just for myself and therefore I can decide how and when I remember them. Not remembering them at that exact moment a year later doesn’t mean they didn’t happen, that I’ve forgotten about them, or that I’m ignoring the impact they had. It just means that it was one experience, a moment in time, and I am continuing to live my life beyond that moment.

I definitely want to find a way to commemorate this experience more concretely next year. I want to include my husband, and potentially even my child, in my remembering process. I want to build a tradition.

BUILDING TRADITIONS

Traditions are important. They are used to mark milestones (such as having a birthday celebration) and anniversaries (such as going on a date or exchanging gifts on your wedding anniversary). Because of this, a tradition can tie these two wildly different connected experiences toogether.

For me, a tradition around my birthing experience would involve some recognition of the intensity and endurance involved in that experience. It would be a remembering and celebrating of what my body was and is capable of and the role my husband played in supporting me through that process. This year, I did this mostly on my own, internally, with a bit of sharing with my husband.

A tradition around my child’s birthday would be pretty typical – the cake and candles, the presents, and the family gathering. I also want to include a reflection on the past year – some of my child’s, and our family’s, important experiences, challenges, and achievements. This year, we had a family party with cake (no candles because fire and one-year-olds is a dangerous combination), and my husband and I did a quiet re-reading of our monthly baby journal entries and a look back through our pictures and videos.

One way we could combine these experiences in the future is with a candle. I would light the candle on the anniversary of when my labour started, each of the next few evenings we would share some memories of the labour experience and the past year of our child’s life, and on their birthday we would light the candles on their birthday cake (or cupcake if the actual party is on a different day) using the same candle. My labour candle lights my child’s birthday candles. It has the symbolism and recognition I’m looking for.

Maybe next year I’ll write another post describing what we actually end up doing. Until then, let me know what your experience of your child’s first birthday was. How do you comemorate your labour and birthing experience?


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From Baby to Toddler: The End of Parental Leave and Start of Daycare

In Canada, where I live, we have a year long parental leave. It was amazing to get to spend the majority of my time with my baby for their entire first year of life. This is the time we lay the groundwork for the bond we will have from then on.

Life took on a completely different pattern when I was on parental leave. It had a narrow focus that required me to develop a wide range of new skills. It felt like my ‘normal’ life was put on pause for a year while I did this new ‘caring for my baby’ thing. It was like stepping sideways onto a completely different track of my life. The weird part was not knowing how these two tracks would merge at the end of the year.

PARENTAL LEAVE IN A PANDEMIC

Parental leave can feel isolating – you are away from all your work related friends, spending most of your time at home caring the your new baby. The friends you used to hang out with may or may not be interested in hanging out with you and your baby. You may find those friends are no longer the type of support you need. Or you no longer seem to have much in common now that your focus has shifted. At times being on leave with a new baby did feel isolating. But, being an introvert, I think it didn’t bother me as much as it would some people.

My parental leave overlapped entirely with the global COVID-19 pandemic. This meant that everyone, not just me, was feeling isolated. As a result, I felt less alone in the experience. There was lots of media attention given to the emotional effects of isolation and the development of internet based communication systems. Many social groups were adapted to online platforms. This gave me access to support networks that I would not have had otherwise. Many of these were local groups in the US that I could now access over zoom.

So, overall, despite the general isolation of being at home with a baby, reinforced by the pandemic, I ended up feeling less isolated than I would have otherwise. But the contact I had was with a completely different set of people than those in my previous life. So when my leave finished and I went back to work, very few people had seen or heard from me in a year. And everyone wanted to know how my baby and I were doing.

REINTEGRATING WITH THE WORLD

The end of parental leave is like pushing our way out of our family cocoon (reinforced by the pandemic-induced isolation) and re-entering the world, now as a family of three. Or, to continue with the same metaphor as above, it feels like trying to merge two tracks that are wildly different. It feels vulnerable and shaky.

Some of this shakiness is logistical – we can no longer simply get ready for work and leave, come home and make dinner, hang out and go to bed. One of us has to get our kid ready for their day and feed them, drop our kid off at daycare, pick them up, and then do all the things in the evening we’ve been doing the past year. In this way, the tracks don’t so much merge as we shift back and forth between them throughout the day – the family/childcare track and the work track. These compenents are easy to predict and plan in advance, even if they feel a bit overwhelming at the start.

The parts that are more shaky are how our family is perceived and how to be as authentic as possible without spending more energy than we have. How to manage the impact of attending daycare (more on this below). How to stay focused on our non-baby related tasks when we’ve been so used to focusing the majority of our attention and time on our baby. These are the more nebulous emotional things that we will have to navigate or learn as we go.

Reintegrating with the world is also socially overwhelming. I went from having limited social contact, especially with the pandemic, to seeing all my work colleagues again. I was answering the same questions over and over. Inevitably, one of those questions was ‘remind me again, did you have a boy or a girl?’ I know it’s just small talk and people wanting to connect but it throws all the societal assumptions about gender that I’ve been happily avoiding this past year in my face.

I have to re-learn how to let the dysphoria enducing comments and situations roll of my back and leave the irritation from these situations at work as much as possible. Having a fun, cute baby to come home to definitely helps.

STARTING DAYCARE

After spending almost every day together, having my baby spend five of seven days at daycare feels like there will be monumental distance between us. I feel like I will miss important steps in their development. Or miss enough of the little incremental developments so that when they show a new skill or level of understanding, it will come as a surprise. It will feel sudden. I will feel like they are growing too fast for me to keep up.

Maybe this is true. But maybe, if I spend dedicated play time with them during the times we do spend together (early mornings, evenings, and weekends), it will be enough time to see these small shifts. It’s not like they’ll be at daycare 24/7 afterall.

So far, our daycare experience has gone well. We found a daycare we were comfortable with that had a spot available when we needed it. We did a couple two hour visits to get my child familiar with the environment and staff while still having me as a safety net. On the second visit I left for an hour which did not phase my child in the least.

In the first full days of daycare, we dropped them off as late in the morning as we could and picked them up as early as our work schedules would allow. Even with these shortened days, our baby was exhausted. They have been napping on the way to daycare and after coming home in addition to the midday nap they get at daycare. As long as we give them these times to sleep, they seem to be doing ok.

My baby is definitely aware of spending less time with us. They need a lot more time being held, especially in the morning and after naps. They dislike spending as much time as they used to in the stroller or carseat where they can’t see or interact with us (though this could also be related to their increasing independence). Since I also need more cuddle time with my baby, so far I am ok with this.

BALANCING RISK AND REWARD

When we first decided daycare was the best option, we weighed the pros and cons of each option available to us. But just because we settled on full time daycare doesn’t mean we don’t have to continue to be aware of the risks and rewards. Knowing the risks will help us mitigate them or adjust for them. Knowing the rewards will help us get the most benefit from it. So here are a few of the risks and rewards we are noticing:

Risks associated with daycare

  • COVID exposure risk – no masks, lots of adults and kids in a small space (we wear masks any time we go in)
  • Considerably less bonding time
  • Less control over our child’s schedule to give them what they need (mostly in terms of sleep)
  • Financial risk due to high cost

Rewards associated with daycare

  • Exposure to more germs leads to a stronger immune system
  • Socialization
  • More guided activities and resources
  • More personal freedom for work/school

How do our experiences reintegrating with the world and starting daycare compare to yours? I imagine if you are in a country that only has six weeks of paid parental leave and you had to return to work at that time your experiences would be wildly different. Please share in the comments below!


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