Mindful Words

Today I was at my Dad's church for service. Lots of things happened, that I don't really feel the need to go into, but one of the things done during the service was filling out this pledge with our names. This pledge said "_________________ promises to continually learn and seek to inspire others in Christ," or something to that effect. I look at this sheet of paper that sorta looks like an award from elementary or middle school with a large blank where we are meant to write our names. I, as a genderfluid individual, have two names: the name I choose to go by and the name I was given.

Normally, on forms and legal things I put my legal, given name, but this wasn't a form. It wasn't something legally binding. This form was meant as a promise between myself and God. I personally believe that God would call me by the name I chose, not the one I was given. I took a moment to think about it. I knew that my Dad might prefer if I put my legal name, or, at the very least acknowledged somehow that my legal name was still my name. But my Dad is not God. My Dad is just the pastor. So I took my pen and wrote my chosen name. I didn't see anything wrong with it, and, you know what? It felt good to see my name written down on something others would see. On something my Dad would see.

After the service, we got in the car; my Mom, my Dad, my little brother and me; and headed home. I hadn't really even given a second thought to the name I wrote down. I didn't think it was a big deal. Dad was frustrated with the response from the church and was sort of ranting about that, when my little brother opens his mouth. "Dad was angry with what you wrote," he said in that taunting, younger sibling way. My stomach dropped. My heart crawled into my throat.

"I was not angry," Dad said quickly, "I rolled my eyes." I didn't really see how that was better, and I still don't. On the one hand, if he had been angry, he would have been acknowledging that I was not the name I wrote down. On the other hand, by rolling his eyes, he trivialized my choice, as though to say that my going by this name was a phase or something temporary. Neither one is a good option.

Now, this isn't the first time, or even the worst example, of my father trivializing or minimizing my gender identity or choice to change my name. He's told me on multiple occasions that being misgendered or being disrespected for wanting to be called my name is just something I have to get used to because I 'chose to be this way'. He doesn't mean to attack me. He doesn't mean to hurt me or add to my struggles. He just doesn't recognize what he's doing with his words.

He doesn't realize that by saying I chose this, he's saying that who I am, how I was born was a choice. He doesn't realize that by saying I should expect and get used to being called the wrong name, he's perpetuating a culture that doesn't accept or respect trans or nonbinary people. He doesn't realize that by saying these things or acting this way, he's saying that I deserve to be treated differently just because I don't accept my given name as my name.

Sure, there are people that will purposefully go out of their way to make me feel uncomfortable or to embarrass me for who I am, but that doesn't mean I just have to sit here and take it. Yes there are some places where I have to use my given name, until I can change it legally, but in the Church shouldn't be one of those places.God calls us by name even when others won't acknowledge our name. Allies, take note. Be careful what you say. You may not even realize that you're slighting us.