When You Ask Me Why I Care

I have always had a habit of searching out the underdogs - the misfits - the picked-on and the diamonds-in-the-rough. In highschool, I got reprimanded more than once for declaring unfairness in a classroom. I had food thrown at me, threats scrawled across my locker engaged in heated debates in my English Advanced-Placement class about bullying and human rights. 

In my twenties, I worked with a group that fought for women's rights. I volunteered on a board of self-advocates. I raised my voice loudly against bullying and wrote articles about youth depression and suicide. No one ever asked why I stood against domestic violence. They never questioned me when I told them not to use the "r" word to describe a person with special needs (or in any other context). Not once was I asked why I felt so passionately about same-sex marriage. I was never asked why I cared, until I began speaking up about civil rights for a specific group of people.

I realize now, that racism, sexism, and ableism have all become socially unacceptable. Celebrities who use racist language or make anti-semitic remarks are publicly reprimanded and asked to apologize. Campaigns have been launched to end the "r" word. And, just last week Elton John called for a boycott of fashion house Dolce & Gabbana after they made ignorant statements about same-sex adoption. But, there is one group that has yet to see their rights protected the way that others have. The transgender community is still far behind when it comes to equality.

I post a lot on my Facebook page about LGBT issues, especially transgender, as I feel they are often the silent "T" in LGBT. It is still socially acceptable to ostracize a transgender person; to deny their human rights and bully them to death. After the deaths of Leelah Alcorn, Riley Moscatel, Ash Haffner, Zander Mahaffey and Melonie Rose (all transgender teens who took their lives) there has been no call to action by government officials, no public outcry, no push to educate people and end discrimination. Transgender women are still being forced to use the mens' room. Transgender men are still being raped and beaten. People are still exploiting their religion to deny human rights to this group of people. 

I have been asked a lot lately why I am interested in this "cause." 

Why do I feel the need to bring attention to people who are misunderstood and mistreated?

Why do I get the urge to put my arms around every trans* teen who wants to end their life rather than take one more day of being bullied and harassed?

Why do I want to prosecute every parent who forces their child into abusive conversion therapy?

Why do I want to shake some sense into the mother who tells her child they are going to hell and are an abomination?

Why do I wish I could open my home to every trans child who has been turned away from her family, her church, her community, for simply being who she is?

Why do I cry when I hear of another beautiful child who has taken their precious life because their spirit has been pummeled into dust?

Why do I get angry when I hear of another murder, another beating, another rape of a trans woman, man or genderfluid or intersex person?

Why do I educate myself on trans issues, and teach my children to accept and embrace differences in others and in themselves?

Because it matters!

Why do I care?

Perhaps the better question is:

Why don't you?

 photo credit: Purple Sherbet Photography