On Gender

Babies and the State

“What are you having?”

Now that it’s pretty obvious I’m pregnant, I get this question a lot. “A baby!” is my tongue and cheek response, followed by, “We’re gonna be surprised!”

Sometimes people get more specific and ask, “Do you know the gender? Are you sharing?”

I get the curiosity. Who isn’t excited about new life? With the advance of ultrasound technology, lots of people decide to find out months before delivery what sex their baby will be assigned at birth. So why not ask? And with the ubiquity of “gender reveal parties,” the vernacular for referring to a baby’s sex is “gender.” As though the two are interchangeable. (Now I’m imagining a world with blue and pink cakes and balloons and fireworks at events called “Sex Reveal” parties for babies. It’s hilarious and strange.)

Anyway. I get why people use the word “gender” to refer to both biological sex and gender when referring to a baby, but it’s still weird. Lucas and I have opted to be surprised by babú’s sex, in part because IVF affords so little mystery or surprise. We’re getting it where we can! And even when they’re born and we know their sex, that doesn’t mean that we will definitively know their gender. That’s something we’ll learn alongside them the rest of our lives.

Ru Paul famously said, “We’re born naked, the rest is drag.” Whether it’s the subtlety with which I apply makeup to brighten my eyes without looking like I’m wearing “too much,” or the way Dolly Parton’s lifelong look was inspired by her admiration of the town floozy, it’s all drag baby. But the choices adults (or even children) make about their own style and gender expression are very different from the ones we impose on babies.

Babies don’t choose their own drag. We do it for them. They don’t choose the color we paint the nursery (pink or blue or “gender neutral yellow”). They don’t choose the prints and styles of clothing we dress them in. They don’t even choose whether we put bows on their heads so little girls aren’t [gasp] mistaken for little boys. From their earliest days earthside, we surround children with messages about what colors and styles and actions and toys and forms of play are appropriate outward expressions of their inward selves.

Many of these messages subtly (or not so subtly) pressure children to make sure their gender identity is in alignment with their biological sex. Children start picking up on these signals and expressing their own desires and preferences early. (I know I let my mom know that fixing my hair was no longer any of her business by the time I was 5 or 6. My school pictures show it.) Knowing the power of socialization and parental preferences to shape those of a child, it seems particularly important to honor the times when a child makes clear gender identity preferences that are not in alignment with their sex assigned at birth. Whether that be the colors or kinds of clothing they choose, the way they’d prefer to style their hair, or the pronouns they use.

Serving as a pastor in progressive Christian churches has made this especially clear to me. Through these ministries, I’ve had the gift of interacting with many gender-creative children and trans youth and their parents. The parents, almost to a person, were cisgender and straight. They hadn’t “groomed” their children. They raised them to know their love and the love of God—the One who created them in all their unique beauty and goodness. These parents were often surprised to learn of their child’s desire to express a different gender than they had assumed since birth. And they were sometimes frightened because they could see how unsafe and unkind the world could be for their children. But they could also see their children coming alive—with joy, courage, and congruence—as the expression of their gender on the outside finally matched their self-understanding on the inside.

Being in the presence of these children and young people has taught me so much. Of course, it’s not their job to teach the adults around them the beauty and value of their lives just as they are. It’s not their job to teach adults how to love them and keep them safe. Even so, I wish more folks in the Iowa state house could see them and know their stories.

Because our legislators are at it again. Working to block gender affirming medical care prior to puberty (which most often involves nothing more radical than using the names and pronouns a child asks for, affirming the clothes and hairstyles they choose, and maybe, using a drug to prevent the onset of puberty. I took such a drug daily for nine years so I didn’t end up with my period in preschool. Would the state like to legislate that, too?). They’re working to restrict bathroom access for school children to that of their sex assigned at birth. Working to gag public school teachers from even mentioning anything related to human sexuality in their classrooms before a certain age (even if it's to recognize that, yes, some friends have two mommies, and some have two daddies, and sometimes a mommy becomes a daddy or vice versa). And this after designating massive amounts of public funds to unregulated private (read: religious) schools. They’re also working to ban books with any sexual content at all from public school libraries. As though one scene, in context, in a physical book, in a curated collection, overseen by trained and loving adults, were more threatening than unrestricted access to the internet. If it weren’t so disturbing it would seem almost quaint.

I heard the plaintive voice of a second grader on the news yesterday, speaking to state legislators. “I think you’re confused about what goes on in second grade bathrooms,” they said. “I’m just like anyone else. I just go in to use the bathroom and wash my hands.”

Advocates of the legislation seem to think it will protect the privacy and safety of students, particularly cisgender girls. As though predatory young men will take up the long con of pretending to be trans in order to gain access to girls’ locker and bathrooms and then to commit assault. If there were any merit to this concern it would be one thing. But it has been legal for children to use the public-school bathroom most congruent with their gender identity since 2007 and in 15 years (a whole generation of children) there has been no such incident. The same cannot be said for football teams and boys’ locker rooms. There’s no recognition that trans people are the most vulnerable to physical and verbal assault when outing themselves to use the restroom that is not in alignment with their gender, or to physical and emotional distress when they restrict their own bathroom use because they are no longer safe or comfortable.

Turning vulnerable trans children into a bogeyman on which to project the fears of grown adults is a deplorable sin. Adults should know better. Especially those who claim the title “Christian.” Throughout the gospels, the message that is reiterated over and over again is “Do not be afraid!” But here we go again, letting fear be the basis of religion and a kind of pseudo-theocracy in our state’s legislative agenda, rather than service and love.

Some of the most lively, faithful, and vital faith communities I have served have had a large LGBTQ+ population integrated in all aspects of the church’s life and leadership. The spiritual gift I most associate with these churches is the charism of courage. Because so many people within the community had done the difficult soul work of coming out, it infused the whole community with a sense of fearlessness and freedom and boldness to love. Folks had done the work of facing down the fear of potentially being disowned by those they loved. And they trusted that to live in the light and truth of who God made them to be was not something to be sacrificed at the altar of any human or any law. Serving in those places that were so joyful and courageous and loving and free makes it easier to see just how closeted by fear a lot of cis-straight people and communities can be.

I wish more of our legislators had the same appreciation of the courageous trans people in our communities that they do for other beautiful non-binary parts of God’s good creation. The beach. Sunrise and sunset. The wetlands that nurture so much life for the rest of the planet.

In a few short months, we’ll know babú’s sex and we’ll start the journey of their gender expression with them along with all the drag life has to offer. If I’m honest, there’s a part of me (driven by fear) that hopes they are cisgender. The world is not kind to trans people. Already I want to keep them safe. But there is nothing quite so beautiful as a sunrise or sunset reflecting off the water—the beauty of some in between place in that twilight in between time. If we’re gifted with a child who knows their gender beyond the binary, we will do all we can to protect and kindle that beautiful glow.

We’re doing what we can already.

Much love,

Lindsey