A is for Authentic Self...
Keepsakes from utopia
After fifteen years I finally started weeding through the kids’ schoolwork and art projects—all those papers that seemingly multiplied overnight until you think you need to move into a bigger house to contain all your crap. It took three days to sift through a few jumbo plastic bins and dozens of old, tote bags, tossing tons of stuff but holding onto the most memorable.
When I found this book report, I knew I wanted to share it. There are only so many words that can encapsulate the lessons Miss Miller learned at school over the past dozen years.
She created this alphabet book report on Jazz Jennings in fifth grade, when she was ten. Each child got to choose their own subject, and based their alphabet book on a biography about that person. Trans was already on my daughter’s mind. Her best friend had declared her own transgender identity around that time and was soon to begin medical transition. At the time, I was just happy my daughter had read an actual book.
It all seemed so kind and socially aware then. Little did I know that in just a few short years, Miss Miller herself would declare a trans identity. This, along with her confused friend, ideologically captured school and internet, was her gateway.
A couple years ago I asked what she thought about Jazz’s one-hundred-pound weight gain. Just an ordinary binge-eating disorder, she replied, unrelated to anything, least of all puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones or multiple botched surgeries.
Watching clips and compilations of Jazz’s mental anguish reveals—to anyone who hasn’t been emotionally blackmailed—the catastrophic failure of a barbaric experiment. That scene on the bed between Jazz and his mom is particularly infuriating to watch. Like, hey Mom! Munchausen much?
Jazz cries, “It just doesn’t stop,” and his mom says, “I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there.” And Jazz says, “No.”
There’s a hovering moment where I think Jazz is going to say, “You have not been here,” but instead, he says, “So I’m the one doing it,” as if he’s copping to a bad attitude. The mother seems to confirm this version of reality when she replies, “I know. You’re your own worst enemy.” And Jazz believes it, minimizing his anguish as “breaking down a little bit.”
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s shouted at the screen, “No, Mom —YOU’RE Jazz’s worst enemy!”
If I knew then what I know now, I would have suggested a different public figure for Miss Miller to research, but I wasn’t aware of the insidiousness of gender ideology. Even if I did, it’s quite possible she would have insisted upon Jazz more intensely. Miss Miller is way more stubborn than I am. I admire her for that, even though it’s a pain in the ass. In the end it will be valuable to have this keepsake that reflects a child’s misguided concept of utopia.
For now, I can’t help but imagine going back in time, to an alternate reality where Jazz’s mother, instead of commodifying her son’s distress, gets therapy of her own. The public never hears about Jaron or his family because there is no circus, no exhibition, no spectacle. There’s simply a family with an effeminate little boy. And as he grows older his wish to be a girl fades. He’s gay, and that’s fine, mundane even. He gets good grades, has fun with his friends, gets into a great college and lives happily ever after. And Miss Miller writes her alphabet book report on some other hero—someone whose contribution to history was based on their actions and had nothing at all to do with their “so-called” gender identity.
I find the story of Jazz Jennings heartbreaking and infuriating! Your fantasy about what could have been if Jaron's parents had simply let him be an effeminate little boy who liked to dress like his sister is mine as well. That your daughter wrote this book about Jazz says a lot about how misinformed the public is about Jazz's real life story, and how that misinformation has fed a generation a pack of dangerous lies (including your daughter and mine).
This all reminds me of the psychologist I spoke with on the phone last summer, after my daughter secretly took illegal testosterone gel, shipped to a friend's house, at age 16, for 98 days until I realized and it stopped. My daughter asked to see a therapist so I began calling around. This one psychologist called me back and I gave a quick overview of my daughter's situation. He asked me a question about why I wasn't using male pronouns for her, and my answer was to ask him whether he believed someone could be born in the wrong body. This man, in his fifties, with a Phd, answered with a resounding "yes!" His explanation: my friend has twins, born male. One of them showed signs of being "transgender" at around age 2 and has been persistent with this. The signs were things like wanting to play with dolls, dress in princess dresses, and play tea party rather than roughhousing. His parents began calling him a girl by about age 4 and are, as the psychologist said, open to starting medical care (puberty blockers to start) in the near future. He was 8 at that point. He said this showed him that a child could be born in the wrong body. My response to him was that it's great that a little boy should be allowed to dress in princess dresses, and play with dolls or do anything gender non-conforming, but that doesn't turn a boy into a girl. He's just an atypical boy. The psychologist didn't respond (and appeared not to comprehend what I was saying). Instead, he asked another question about my daughter, now alleging that she must be suicidal - even though I never said that. I never spoke with him again. The notion that a little boy who likes to dress like his sister is actually a girl is so absurd, so offensive, so backwards, that I cannot believe this has been the basis for castrating (chemically and surgically) a number of teenage boys to date. Everything about gender ideology is insane, but this particular scenario of the effeminate boy as a girl - takes the cake!! Hold onto your daughter's book. It will be something to put in a museum at some point after this epic medical and social scandal comes to light.
In reality only one person in 65,000 actually has gender identity disorder; for the other 64,999 "sex" and "gender" are, for all intents and purposes, synonyms.
Since the "trans" cult has adulterated the word into gibberish, it needs to be removed from medicine, science, and law. Those people who actually have GID manifest it in their early childhood, by age five; those who announce a new "gender identity" in their teens are responding to social contagion, nearly half of them are mentally ill, many quite severely, yet all this is forgotten when they present to McGender clinics. They are hurried into hormone treatments and irreversible mutilating surgery, which does nothing to alleviate their psychological distress, and within a decade they exhbit one of the highest suide rates known.
"Trans" activists deny this regret and cite unreliable and plainly false statistics while the "trans" cult urges the detransitioners to suicide. Nice bunch of people. There's a reason the statistics are so lowe, and it's not a good reason:
https://www.realityslaststand.com/p/accurate-transition-regret-and-detransition
A half dozen European countries have put the brakes on "gender affirmation"; it will take longer in the USA because healthcare in America is big business and neutering children is already a five billion dollar a year industry. They're good for a million in hormones, even two million if they live long past fifty. Most won't.
If we haven't destroyed ourselves we will look back at this horrible cult and wonder how we could have deluded ourselves so. And I hope that before then the surgeons tho castrated little boys are swinging from lampposts, and the online activists are living under new identities and waiting to be tracked down and given their reward.