About a Boy Who Isn''t At a California middle school, M. is a popular 13-year-old boy. Only a few of his teachers know what he''s precariously hiding: he''s a girl. STANDING IN A CIRCLE under the shade of a tall, skinny palm tree, five boys smile in unison as they recount a particularly absurd scene in the teenage comedy Don''t Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood. The boys-who''ve watched it countless times on video-agree that it''s a comedy classic, but they can''t seem to settle on its funniest scene. "Man, the whole movie is dope," says the tallest of the five, who wears a heavy Starter jacket even though it''s seventy degrees outside. It''s a bright, sunny California morning, and this middle school recess is humming along lazily. Packs of twelve-year-olds in dark pants and white-collared shirts (the school uniform) meander about, looking for something, anything, to do.
Next to the palm tree, three haughty girls with pocket mirrors gossip as they reapply their makeup. A hundred yards away, groups of loud, cocky boys play basketball on outdoor courts. And surveying it all are smiling faculty members with walkie-talkies who easily negotiate this sea of mostly Hispanic students. An openly gay male teacher leans against a table in the outdoor lunch area, the quietest spot in this expansive courtyard. When he isn''t teaching English or theater, he facilitates the school''s discreet weekly support group for gay, lesbian, and transgender students. Not far from him is one of the group''s regulars, a strikingly beautiful thirteen-year-old girl with piercing brown eyes and long black hair. This morning, as on most mornings, she''s being trailed by a group of fawning boys, who can''t seem to get enough of the bisexual eighth-grader in the tight white shirt, black pants, and rainbow-colored belt. If she is the darling of the school''s boys, one of her male counterparts stands under the palm tree with his friends, who are still talking about movies.
A well-liked and attractive thirteen-year-old, he has short-cropped black hair, brown eyes, and a clear, soft complexion. His backpack is tied loosely around his thin frame, and his stylish, oversize gray sweater falls nearly to his knees. None of his friends know that he''s a member of the discreet school group for gay students. They have no reason to suspect it, either. He likes girls. He has a girlfriend (a high school girlfriend, no less), and there are countless other girls willing to date him should he ever want another. So although his friends assume he is one of them, the support group members presume-though they don''t know for sure, because he doesn''t say much during meetings-that he''s probably secretly gay or bisexual, or maybe just confused. But they all have it wrong.
He isn''t gay. He isn''t confused. Biologically, he isn''t even a boy. FOR THE LAST four years, M., who was born a girl, has secretly lived as a boy. (As is his preference, I will refer to M. as a "he.") Though most transgender teenagers are unwilling or unable to cross-live, M.
finds himself in a nearly unheard-of position: with the support of his family and a few teachers at his middle school, he lives as a boy. The seventh child in a close-knit family of seven girls and two boys, M. showed early signs of gender identity disorder (GID), the controversial American Psychiatric Association diagnosis for people who repeatedly show, or feel, a strong desire to be the opposite sex and are uncomfortable with their birth sex. By age five, M. refused to wear girls'' clothing. Though many children with GID don''t continue their cross-gender identification into their teens, M. only became more boy-identified with age. "We always thought she would grow out of it," M.
''s twenty-year-old sister tells me, sitting upright on the couch in her sparsely furnished one-story home, where she lives with her husband and infant son near a busy freeway in a working-class Hispanic neighborhood. "We would try to get her to wear dresses, but she would cry and cry and cry." M. lounges deep into the couch across from his sister, his legs spread wide and his small head resting against the back of the couch. He''s wearing baggy black jeans and a hooded black sweatshirt, and he''s cradling a small pillow on his lap. In his left hand, he holds his pager. Except for his exceeding civility (particularly toward adults), everything about M. screams thirteen-year-old boy: His clothes are too big.
His voice is boyish and uninterested. He bosses his younger sisters around. He answers multipart questions with one-word answers. He spends hours each night on the phone with his girlfriend. And he has only one real hobby to speak of: watching action and comedy movies with his friends. "When I look at her now, I see a boy," says M.''s twenty-three-year-old sister, who sits next to M.''s twenty-year-old sister on the couch.
"I used to think she was just going to be a lesbian, but she doesn''t want to be a girl with another girl. She wants to be a boy with another girl. I know she is a girl, but I see a boy." "We used to ask her all the time: ''How come you want to be a boy? You''re a girl ,''" recalls the twenty-year-old sister. "People would stop my mother on the street and say, ''Oh, your son is so beautiful.'' And she would correct them and say, ''No, this is my daughter .''" M.''s mother still can''t bring herself to refer to M.
as "he." "I accept my daughter because she is my daughter and I love her," she says in Spanish, sitting next to her eldest daughters. A slender, delicate woman, she works as a housecleaner and speaks little English. "But I don''t understand it. Sometimes it makes me cry." Several family members broke down after seeing the film Boys Don''t Cry, which tells the true story of Brandon Teena, a female-to-male transgender twenty-one-year-old who was raped and murdered when her biological sex was discovered. "We all say, ''Look, what happened in that movie can happen to you, too,''" the twenty-year-old sister says. "We always try to get her to tell the truth to people, because what would students at her school do if they found out she was lying to them?" There is a long pause, during which M.
glances down at his vibrating pager. M. is paged about every fifteen minutes, usually by his girlfriend, who tells him she loves him in pager code. I ask M. if many girls at school like him. "Girls flirt with me," he says matter-of-factly, "but I tell them I have a girlfriend." M. hasn''t told her about his secret.
All they''ve done is kissed. "When she wants to do more, I just say, ''No, I''m not ready,''" M. says. "I want to touch her, but then she would want to touch me back. So we just kiss. I want to tell her the truth so bad, but every time I try, I can''t." Few transgender teenagers face M.''s unusual predicament.
While he''s part of his school''s elite social group, most self-identified transgender teenagers can''t hide their biological gender and face daily harassment and ridicule at school. M. says he feels safe everywhere, but as his female body develops, he knows it will become increasingly difficult to keep his secret. ON HIS FIRST day of fifth grade at a new school, M. stood sheepishly in the classroom doorway. His hair was cut short, and he wore baggy clothes. M. was then living as a girl, but to the teacher M.
looked like any other boy. "Show the gentleman to his seat," the teacher instructed another student. The gentleman ? Too embarrassed to correct him, M.-who at the time went by his birth name, which though primarily a girl''s name is occasionally a boy''s-shuffled to his seat and sat down. Minutes later, he grasped the significance of that moment. "That''s when I realized I could live as a boy, without anyone knowing," he says. "People just assumed I was a boy." M.
didn''t tell his family what happened at school, and that year he lived a double life: at home he was a girl, at school he was a boy. (Because of his gender-neutral first name, teachers and students didn''t suspect anything.) Although he can be painfully shy around new people, M. soon made friends with both boys and girls. M. had to change schools again the next year for middle school, but he continued living as a boy and started dating girls, who were drawn to his good looks and sweet, calm demeanor. M. even took gym class with boys-the school didn''t require students to shower, and he never had to get fully naked in the locker room.
The more M. lived as a boy, the less he worried about being discovered. "I would go weeks without thinking about it," he says. That changed last year, when a counselor at the school discovered his secret during a routine call to his mother. The counselor referred to M. as "your son," but his mother-unaware that M. was passing as a boy-corrected the counselor. "She''s not my son," his mother said.
"She''s my daughter." The counselor was shocked. "She''s your what ?" M. says the school told him that he would have to take gym class with the other girls the following year when he went into eighth grade. M. wasn''t about to go back to living as a girl, so in the fall he transferred to his current school. And finally aware that M. was passing as a boy, his mother insisted that M.
tell the school''s administrators. On his first day, M., his mother, and the school dean walked to the classroom of the openly gay teacher who runs the support group. He was in the middle of a lecture about Kabuki theater when the dean knocked on the classroom door and took the teacher aside. "You need to talk.