Name Day
The old name is sealed. It's still in the records, it's in this blog. This is the same person who once had a bat mitzvah, the same person who sang and danced with Bruce Springsteen, the same person who swore that unicorns are real and that they eat unicorn food. I will leave those bits of history untouched. This is also the same person who has made art under the old name and new, and the same person who made a mess of our kitchen while we were away on Tuesday, leaving us to discover the concealed chocolate disaster zone.
The shift between what was and what is... in some ways that was very slow, and in some ways it was sudden. There were behavioral queues, things overlooked at first by this parent thinking it may be a "phase." Had today been suggested, say, 5 years ago, I might not have believed it. Five years ago, we were preparing for a bat mitzvah, and were busy planning a party and getting a dress. But there are many other scenarios I might not have believed, either. More importantly, it doesn't really matter what I might have believed back then... nor, for that matter, what I might believe even now.
In the bat mitzvah address I gave to Ezra five years ago, I quoted Bruce Springsteen (of course I did). "First thing you do, before you write a decent song, … before you play your first gig, you lay in bed at night and you dream yourself up. Everything you weren't in the day… So the first thing you do is, you dream yourself to life." I continued with my own words: "If there’s a blessing I could wish for you, it would be for every day have the potential to be the best day ever. I can’t tell you how to do that… except to be who you already are."
Ezra is an adult. Ezra is happy, today. The birthday was a good day. Ezra became an adult, changed his name, gave blood, saw friends, and had a birthday dinner. Next month Ezra will finish high school, and shortly after receive a diploma, complete with the new name. In the fall, Ezra will start college, as an art major with a partial scholarship, hopefully creating a wonderful new chapter.
As a parent who experienced this child was for 18 years, as someone who still occasionally references Ezra with female pronouns, I've found it somewhat startling to see the physical transformation. The clothing came first. Then came the only drug: testosterone cypionate, under prescription, self-injected once per week. The jaw squared, the voice dropped, and seemingly overnight total strangers started addressing Ezra as a boy. The politics that infect the news cycle, everything from what bathroom he should use, to credulous bleats from various quarters of a meritless theory called "Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria," and even whether he should receive health care, that's not a thing with the people we see. He's just a boy. A boy to whom I still blow a kiss when dropping him off for school in the morning. A young man who will soon have a black belt... not for defense against intolerant naysayers, but because he likes martial arts. In a just world, that's the way it will stay.
We are fortunate. We have medications that can help a person's appearance match their identity. Ezra has few problems at school... at least not beyond typical high school problems such as waking up on time, getting homework done, and deciding whether to go to Prom. Ezra has gone on multiple shabbaton's with a group called Keshet that works for the full equality and inclusion of LGBTQ Jews in Jewish life, and has found an accepting community. Earlier today I bequeathed my jeans jacket to Ezra, a Levi's so old it was Made in the USA.
I close today asI did on that May day 5 years ago: "... we hope that you are as proud of yourself at this moment as we are proud of you. Dream yourself to life. Every day."
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