The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond XXXIII

JESS SURNAMER
ALEX JONES, TEACHER
The Park School, Brookline, MA
A girl named Mila was born in September 2011. She did not want to leave the
safety of the womb, but Mila had to, for her mother’s health. That was Mila’s
first act of courage. She entered the world and was placed on a table with a
bright light, as if she were a science experiment. Everyone watched so intently,
as if they expected something to go wrong. And unfortunately for little Mila,
things did go wrong. Again, and again, and again.
Mila Surnamer was just a little girl. Or was she? Mila always wondered what it
would be like to be a boy. What it would be like to wear the ugliest sweatpants
and dirtiest sweatshirt but still have every girl in the room want her. She
wanted to have short curly hair that she could run her fingers through so it
looked fluffy and cute, she wanted to have a low rockstar voice that sounded
cool and moody, and she wanted girls to stare at her as she walked down the
hallway. But she couldn’t have those things. Because, according to her gender
assigned at birth and the way she looked, she was a long- and frizzy-haired,
high-pitched, whiny-sounding girl who no other girl wanted, because then they
would be “lesbians.”
Although, did Mila truly want to be a boy? Was she faking everything? Mila
had no idea. She grew up in a space where LBGTQ+ identities were supported,
not frowned upon. But she wasn’t even sure what she identified with. Mila
wanted to tell her friends and family how she felt, but what was she going to
say? She was just in third grade at the time, having all these feelings about girls
and boys, about how she looked and sounded, about where she fit in. Did she
want to be a boy, or just have girls like her? Was she pansexual? Bisexual?
Transgender? Gay? Every time she started to think about it, her palms would
get sweaty and her brain would start spinning. She wanted to cry, feel the hot
water falling down her face. She wanted the people around her to know she
wasn’t okay. But she also didn’t want them to try to fix her. She didn’t even
know what was wrong, and she of all people should be the first person to know
that. Then, she entered sixth grade.
Mila was more of themself that year, their pronouns being nonbinary and their
sexuality queer. They liked themselves. Or maybe they just wanted to think
they did, because they just wanted to feel secure for once. But something still
wasn’t right. Mila didn’t feel as if their name was even theirs anymore; they
wondered if maybe it was just another label that they didn’t identify with. That
“JESS DIDN’T KNOW
WHAT THE FUTURE
WOULD HOLD. BUT
HE KNEW WHO HE
WAS. AND THAT
WAS ENOUGH.”
uncomfortable feeling of sweaty palms and awkward silence came back. So,
they tried something different. They went by Jess. They chose Jess because it
was a very masculine name. Nothing like their old name.
Now that they had labels that fit with their identity, it hit them, just like the bus
in Mean Girls. They were transgender. Being a boy was just the right fit for him.
And now that he knew who he was, he could share himself with others. Even
though he was relieved, he was also scared. Telling his parents that he wasn’t
their baby girl anymore was the most frightening thing he could ever think of.
He knew his parents were supportive of LGBTQ+ rights in general, but would
they be supportive of their own child? He thought long and hard about how he
was going to tell them. He said that he didn’t want to forget the person he was;
he just didn’t want to be them anymore. He loved them, but he had never really
liked being them.
Even though his parents understood, there were still some hiccups. They would
sometimes forget his name and his pronouns or question whether it was all just
puberty. But it wasn’t. And as long as Jess knew that, he would have the
courage to keep going.
He wasn’t naïve enough to believe the future wouldn’t hold more challenges—
that he wouldn’t lose friends over this or be treated differently. But Jess was
starting to realize that he didn’t care. He would embrace the stares in the school
hallways, enjoy wearing the ugly sweats, and find the people who liked him for
him. Jess’s first brave act was in September 2011. But it certainly wasn’t his last.
Jess didn’t know what the future would hold. But he knew who he was. And
that was enough.
THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: BOSTON AND BEYOND
VOLUME XXXIII
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