Thirty-seven words shaped gender equality in the American school sports and education landscape that our kids take for granted today. 

Title IX of the Educational Amendments of 1972, signed into law by President Richard Nixon that summer, reads:

“No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving federal financial assistance.”

These 37 words seem almost ridiculous to celebrate now. Of course, girls have the same opportunities as boys, right? Even mentioning this legislative initiative to my 13-year-old daughter resulted in her giving me a WTF look. “What? Duh, Dad. Girls can do anything boys can do,” it seemed to say. “Wait, that was actually a thing back then?”

Yes, gender inequality was “a thing.” And, as we look at the impact of Title IX over the past 50 years, parents should tell our kids all about it.   

State of gender equality in 1972

While civil rights laws of the 1960s banned gender discrimination in hiring practices, similar protections for female students did not exist. In fact, Title IX originates from concerns about educational — not athletic — opportunities for women. 

At the time of its passage, women made up fewer than half of all undergraduates at federally funded universities. At the graduate school level, they constituted less than 10% of those enrolled at law or medical school. On the athletic fields, only 4% of females played sports at college levels. Addressing these gender inequalities in school sports became Title IX’s most pervasive legacy.

Title IX and sports

If our daughters were magically transported to the early 1970s, they would see field of play far different than what they experience now. 

For instance, according to the Women’s Sports Foundation:

• Boys had 10 times the athletic opportunities in high school as girls
• Fewer than 30,000 females played a sport at a college level

These are, in my daughter’s terms, “WTF” stats. These are what we should tell our kids about to show how far we’ve come because of Title IX. 

According to most recent data, nearly 3 million more opportunities exist for girls to play school sports post-Title IX. As a result, now 44% of collegiate athletes are women and 60% of high school girls play a sport. 

As I raise my daughters, I never consider the availability of athletic opportunities an issue for them because they have the chance to join any sport they choose. This would have been impossible without Title IX.

Title IX and the myth of lost opportunities for boys

A myth exists that Title IX has hurt our sons. In fact, parents may have heard Title IX talked about in relation to a situation where teams were impacted because of a lack of availability to female students. This may be when a school has a boys’ wrestling team, but none for girls. Or, it may be when it offers girls’ volleyball but no corresponding opportunity for boys. Let’s be very clear: the opportunities and resources available to our sons still exceeds those provided to our daughters – particularly in sports at all levels. 

A recent report by the NCAA shows that while participation ratios have narrowed significantly, the dollars spent on male sports is twice that of female sports at the Division I level. At the Division II level, the sum is still 25% higher. During the past 20 years, males gained 73,000 participation opportunities while females gained 67,000. 

The criticism that Title IX has hurt boys’ sports is, simply, false.      

More work remains for true gender equality

Given the quantum leaps Title IX has made for equality in the past half century, far more remains to be done. This is where our kids can affect the future.

As Title IX turns 50, the protections of transgender athletes from discrimination must be addressed. While a complicated issue with political, social and religious veins, the treatment of biology as it relates to the activities available for participation must be addressed. 

The scope of Title IX is likely to expand to how sexual discrimination cases are handled. On the table for potential changes are presumption of innocence and burden of proof mandates – both amended during the Trump administration. 

So, while Title IX has been a resounding success, there are more issues it can help solve. As parents, we should not allow the tangled, highly politicized future of Title IX to shadow its monumentally successful past. 

My daughter’s dismissive “duh” reaction to me reminding her of the effort it took to create a girls’ soccer program should not go unnoticed. 

The 2021 announcement of the University of Iowa’s female wrestling team – the first for the men’s college wrestling powerhouse – should be celebrated by parents everywhere. 

As my son takes the SAT this fall, I will remind him that he is rightfully competing against everyone – not just the white males that monopolized collegiate undergraduate programs before the 1970s. 

So, parents, let’s wish a loud “Happy Birthday” to Title IX. 

And, just as loudly, let us wish the inequalities it has addressed over its 50-year existence are not a “thing” my sons and daughters will have to explain to their children.

Photo: ©Rawpixel.com / Adobe Stock.

“Maybe it’s just a phase.”

I said it to my wife while we were alone. I knew it was wrong, but I was feeling it so intensely that I had to let it out. I was feeling it because I really, really wanted it to be true.

Our middle child had recently come out as transgender. I wasn’t supposed to feel the way I was feeling. I was woke. I mean, I was “hella woke,” as we say here in Nor Cal.

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay area so I’ve been around LGBTQ people my entire life. In fact, if my child had said they were gay it would have been easy. I know how to move through that world. While growing up, my mom had gay friends who came over to our house. I’ve had gay friends almost my whole life. I’ve volunteered at Pride events and even played for a gay rugby team. Homosexuality would be easy to accept as natural because I could relate on some level. I have felt attraction. I have been in love. But I’ve always been very sure of my identity. As a man, as a person of color, as a cisgender heterosexual person, none of these identities have ever been questioned by me or anyone else. I think it was hard for me to accept the identities of trans people because I had never been forced to confront or question my own.

Also, my experience with transgender people has been quite limited. I’ve taught some trans students. They were the first ones I think I really knew as more than a loose acquaintance. I learned a lot just by having them in class. I thought of myself as a trans ally with a capital “A,” but even with that background I wasn’t ready for a transgender child.

Being trans harder on them or you?

So there I was: “Maybe it’s just a phase.”

I winced just hearing it from my own mouth. My wife gave me a look at once both disapproving and sympathetic.

At the moment, I wanted it to be true. I thought, “What if we just ignore it? What if we move on as if they hadn’t told us?”

I justified this by saying I was afraid for my child. I wanted their life to be easy. Being trans isn’t easy. It’s hard and I didn’t want my kid to suffer.

It made sense, but it was only a half-truth. What I really wanted was for life to be easier for me.

Parenting a transgender child, or at least the idea I had of it in that moment, isn’t easy either. I didn’t want to carry the burden. I didn’t want to do the work. I didn’t want to be called to defend them or to soothe their pain when I couldn’t. It felt like too much. It was a selfish thought.

My next thought may have been worse.

I began flipping through a mental Rolodex of things to blame.

It was the school’s fault. They had been so welcoming and accepting of that other transgender kid. They had made it seem cool!

It was our church’s fault. It had a re-naming ceremony for a transgender child in the congregation. That was what had made it OK for my kid to try this on!

I blamed Taylor Mac’s fabulous stage show, which my wife had taken our child to see.

The liberal media was to blame. So was the open political climate in our hometown and the entire Bay Area. They had all influenced my kid to be trans!

Yes. I know exactly how this sounds.

It’s not easy to admit these feelings. I carried them around for at least a week before expressing them to my wife. When we talked about it, I already knew how ridiculous every single one of these thoughts were.

These people and places and institutions didn’t make my kid transgender; they gave my kid the space and freedom to tell us they were trans. My kid isn’t trans because of their environment; they are open and happy because of their environment. The best parenting decision we made apparently happened two years before my kid came out: we moved to a community where they could feel accepted.

Non-acceptance of transgender child runs risks

Some well-meaning people have also said to me, “Maybe it’s just a phase.” Maybe, but what are the odds? More important, what’s the risk?

I thought back to an article I read that said you shouldn’t pigeonhole your child’s identity too early. Don’t make them the smart one or the funny one or the clumsy one because – whether it’s true or not – it will influence how they move through the world and how they see themselves forever. Once you have a role, it’s hard to break out of it.

So maybe the risk is that my kid one day decides they aren’t trans, but they are ashamed to admit it or embarrassed – thinking that they’d put us through all this for nothing – so they keep living as a trans person even though they didn’t want to. Honestly, this line of reasoning seems highly unlikely. Possible, but not plausible. Being trans isn’t easy so I doubt anyone would fake it for very long. There’s no ROI.

What if it’s not a phase? What’s the risk in treating it like it might be? A transgender child or adult tends to be at an extremely high risk of depression, anxiety and suicide, often as a result of oppression and abuse of their identities.

I’ve been around the LGBTQ community long enough to have heard more times than I can count the phrase, “I always knew who I was. Since I was a child, I always knew.” My friends always knew who they were. My child has expressed similar thoughts. If this is who my child is and if I don’t support them completely, then I’m the one doing them harm. I don’t want my kid to echo the other phrase I’ve heard from many of my LGBTQ friends, “My family never accepted me so I’m not really close with them anymore.”

I’m going to do all I can in my parenting to make sure that my transgender child feels accepted for who they are. The risk of anything less than total buy-in is a child at a greater risk for anxiety, depression and suicide.

So I’m in — outwardly at least. I still harbor doubts and selfishness and hope that things will change. Those thoughts are pushed to the background more and more, but they are there. I strive to keep them inside, or at least away from my children.

Pronoun predicaments of the gender-fluid

A lot has happened in the months since my child’s announcement. First, they decided they weren’t a boy, but they were not a girl either. They chose they/them as pronouns for a while. That gave us some cute moments from our 3-year-old trying to get used to the new pronouns like, “Mommy, they/them said a bad word.”

Later, my child decided that they/them didn’t always fit either. They settled on “gender fluid” as an identity. Now, they wake up each morning and select a sticky note from a selection my wife ordered. Each one has “he/him,” “she/her” or “they/them” printed on it. The kid picks which one fits that day and puts it on the whiteboard in the kitchen so we all know what to call them that day. Some days they just go by their name, no pronouns. As a dad, I’m tempted to make silly puns based on the day’s pronouns, but I don’t because I don’t want my kid ever feel like I’m making fun of them for who they are.

So far parenting a transgender child hasn’t been as hard as I’d feared. It hasn’t been difficult for either of us, really. School and church were ready for this. Living in this area made it easier than it would have been in other places. I haven’t had to defend them, not once

We’ve had some interesting conversations, though, like when they asked why no one ever assumes they’re a boy. We talked about gender presentation and societal assumptions around dress. The kid hasn’t changed their style at all other than mixing in more blue. They still wear leggings as pants, dresses, sparkles and feminine-style earrings. They got a shorter haircut, but it still isn’t a traditional boy’s style. Once at the grocery store, they were assumed to be a boy at a deli counter. We shared a smile and a giggle of achievement at that.

What I’ve come to realize is that I don’t have to be perfect in my thoughts or feelings to be the perfect parent for my transgender child’s needs. As long as I’m open and loving and willing to learn, I can consider what I’m going through “just a phase.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Roberto Santiago could never decide on a job so he endeavors to have all of them. He is a writer, teacher, sign language interpreter, rugby referee and stay-at-home dad. He writes about the intersections of family, sports and culture at An Interdisciplinary Life.

I’m generally open about being a transgender man even if most people assume I’m a cisgender man (meaning I was born male). I’m often seen as a gay man. This is fine with me since I identify as queer, but it confuses people when they learn I’m married to a woman. One situation where this confusion comes up, but is rarely discussed aloud, takes place when I am out alone with my son.

On a good day, I’m 5-foot, 5-inches tall. My 22-month-old is the size of most 3-year-olds. Since I’m a work-at-home dad, I’m often the only parent people encounter when I take him to a class or the playground. Over and over, I find myself having a version of one particular conversation:

A parent I don’t know will ask: “How old is he?”

Me: “22 months.”

Them:: “Wow. I thought he was three.”

Me: “Yeah, he’s definitely tall for his age.”

Them: “Is his mom tall?”

Me: “Nope, but his donor is …”

What usually follows is an awkward silence. The conversation trails off. The other parent doesn’t ask follow-up questions, and I don’t offer explanations. These conversations about my toddler’s height rarely feel like an opening to disclose that I’m trans. I’m not sure if the reason is my own hesitation, the other parent’s worldview not including trans people, or simply that we are not able to have an in-depth adult chat because we are watching our toddlers.

Hesitating is not my usual impulse. Usually, I’m out and open as I lead my life. Being out is my form of transgender activism. So it feels a little weird to have this sperm donor issue keep coming up but not to name it.

On the one hand, I respect that other parents may feel it would be inconsiderate to dig deeper. There are lots of reasons couples use donor sperm. But not everyone would be comfortable sharing them with strangers and might even find questions about infertility, IVF treatments and medical histories rude. Part of my hesitancy to discuss this donor issue acknowledges this reality.  

Setting record straight about all dads

But the main reason I hesitate is that I don’t want my transgender identity, and childhood socialization as a girl, to be misunderstood as the reason I’m an active and engaged dad.

The notion that men inherently aren’t good at parenting is offensive to men AND women. It puts incredible pressure on a mom to be the primary caregiver, even when she works outside the home.

It’s also a set-up. If unchecked, these stereotypes about moms and dads lead to dads not being given the opportunity right from the start to develop their own parenting style and expertise. Moms aren’t born knowing how to parent, they learn through trial and error. If dads aren’t given the chance to be active and engaged early on, a pattern may develop that will be difficult to overcome.

As one of the co-organizers of the Boston Dads Group, I know many cisgender men who are the primary caregivers — and who necessarily deal with everything that comes with parenting while their spouse is at work. Of course, dads don’t need to be at-home parents to be capable of taking care of their children.

I try to combat these prevailing stereotypes when I run into them, as I often do when I’m out with my kid.

Them:  “Is it daddy’s day?”

Me:  “Every day is daddy’s day.”

Them:  “Oh, how cute. You’re babysitting.”

Me:  “Nope. Dads don’t babysit. I’m parenting.”

Stereotypes about gender roles and parenting are what make me cautious about when and how I open up about being a queer trans man who is very happily married to a queer cis woman and that together with our toddler (and another little one who arrives in December), we’re a happy and proud queer family.

I’ll continue to navigate these awkward moments and find ways to proudly support all dads who are active and engaged parents, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. I love the message my sons will be getting from seeing me and other dads out with their children. I’m hoping that message stays with them and that their generation will put these stereotypes to rest for good.

Also, while I look nothing like my little one, I accept all compliments for how beautiful and long my toddler’s eyelashes are. It’s the one feature that we definitely have in common. And I picked them out myself.

Robbie Samuels, co-organizer of our Boston Dads Group, talks about his experience as a transgender dad and his ongoing efforts to network with other parents on the latest edition of the Modern Dads Podcast.

Samuels, a professional speaker, also discusses his appreciation for the adjustments that people and organizations are making to encourage acceptance of all types of parents, trans and otherwise.

Samuels, a work-at-home dad living with his wife and son in Massachusetts, is the founder of Boston Babies Facebook Group and hosts a monthly baby clothing swap. As a professional speaker he shares how to effectively and inclusively network and build community. He also hosts a weekly podcast, On the Schmooze, that is a mix of interviews with leaders and networking tips.

The Parents’ Phrase Book author and L.A. Dads Group member Whit Honea concludes our podcast to suggest it is time for parents to stop teaching their kids about tolerance.

Robbie Samuels, co-organizer of our Boston Dads Group, talks about his experience as a transgender dad and his ongoing efforts to network with other parents on the latest edition of the Modern Dads Podcast.

Samuels, a professional speaker, also discusses his appreciation for the adjustments that people and organizations are making to encourage acceptance of all types of parents, trans and otherwise.

Samuels, a work-at-home dad living with his wife and son in Massachusetts, is the founder of Boston Babies Facebook Group and hosts a monthly baby clothing swap. As a professional speaker he shares how to effectively and inclusively network and build community. He also hosts a weekly podcast, On the Schmooze, that is a mix of interviews with leaders and networking tips.

The Parents’ Phrase Book author and L.A. Dads Group member Whit Honea concludes our podcast to suggest it is time for parents to stop teaching their kids about tolerance.

In September when we started a Boy Scouts den for my son and some of his first-grade classmates. It was going to be fun and scary. But never once did I wonder if any of these newly minted “Tigers” were not biologically a boy.

And honestly, why would I? They looked and dressed like boys. Yes, their voices are high-pitched and you could mistake them for girls, but they are 6 years old. So I took it at face value that they are all boys.

A few months later I read about a boy named Joe, a Cub Scout from New Jersey who was removed from his pack because it was revealed to a district executive that Joe was biologically not a boy. Joe and his family made no secret that he was a girl who lived his life as a little boy, but one of the other parents let the cat out of the bag to the higher-ups. Since at the time, the Boy Scouts of America had no formal protocol dealing with transgendered youth, he was removed. This is an 8-year-old who loves Star Wars and hanging out with his friends in his Cub Scout den. If I were the den leader or Cubmaster I would have fought the removal. It just wasn’t right.

The debate over Joe’s removal got all convoluted about transgendered people being sexual predators or, on the other hand, the worry about how can the other boys be expected not to do anything to a child who is biologically a girl. Here it is a child who may not be biologically male, but identifies and lives full time as a boy and wants to join a den because he wants to do all the awesome things Cub Scouts/Boy Scouts do. He isn’t some sleeper cell for a sinister LGBTQ agenda. If anything, he will try to fit in as much as he can and not call any attention to himself.

As far as the other boys, guess what: the Boy Scouts have rules to protect children (regardless of gender). They are called the Guide to Safe Scouting and Youth Protection resources. If a scout unit can’t keep a child safe, that is not the problem of the child, it is a lack of leadership and some badly parented children. And what right does any child have abusing or bullying any other child regardless of gender or gender identity? That has no place in Scouting.

People say why can’t that kid just join the Girl Scouts. Well, HE wanted to be with boys his own age and do things boys like him do. I don’t know exactly what the Girl Scouts program entails, but they don’t have the emphasis on the outdoors that the Boy Scouts do. But they have been super inclusive of LGBTQ children and leaders for a few decades. But I digress.

Out of the blue, the Boy Scouts of America announced this week that they would accept transgender boys. There was not a years-long debate like there was on allowing gay men to lead dens. There were not dozens of questionnaires. It just happened. And it was the right thing.

According to the Boy Scout Law, a scout is KIND. A scout is FRIENDLY. A Scout is CHEERFUL. A Scout is LOYAL (which the N.J. council was not being to Joe). I have been reading a lot on scouting message boards about people saying they are leaving the BSA once and for all. Good. Leave. We don’t need people who don’t live up to the Scout Law in our group. Feel free to join one of the Alt-Right’s youth groups. You will find their program is not as full and developed as the BSAs, and while they may have some of the same ideologies as you, you better hate all the right things.

I am going to let you in on a secret. There have been transgender boys in Scouting for years. They just happened to not piss off Mrs. Jenkins at the Pinewood Derby, who then found it necessary to blab a secret that wasn’t hers to tell. These transgender boys have earned badges and nothing bad has happened to them or by them. They were, in the good sense of the phrase, boys being boys. And there have been gay youth and adults in Scouting long before the membership policy change a few years ago. So anyone who is looking to go back to the good old days, guess who was there in the good old days?

Back at my den, none of the parents have mentioned to me that their son was once a daughter. And if that were the case, even before this, I really wouldn’t have cared. So today is a good day to be a Scout, and I hope that Joe rejoins his den (or another den with fewer asshole grownups) really soon.

A version of this first appeared on Great Moments in Bad Parenting.

Editor’s Note: The journey to and through fatherhood of Boston Dads Group member Robbie Samuels offers him a unique perspective on what it means to be a modern dad and raise a son in the 21st century. Here is his story.

A magical thing happened on Dec. 15, 2015, at 9:11 p.m. I became a father.

While I had been planning for that moment all throughout my wife’s pregnancy — immersing myself in researching baby gear for our registry and reading parenting books — I could not have been prepared for what it felt like when my son finally arrived.

That day I joined the brotherhood of fathers.

Growing up I didn’t think I would become a father. For starters, I’m transgender and was raised a girl. Even at a young age, I also wasn’t interested in carrying a child. So I wasn’t sure how this parenting thing would happen for me.

Over a decade ago, I decided to move from living a very gender-blurred existence to being solidly perceived as a man. But that word – “man” — always felt a little off for me. I would say I was a “guy” without hesitation, but a man … well that had a different connotation for me.

As someone raised female who then came out as gay, I had some strong feelings about the way white, cisgender, straight men behaved in our culture. I had no interest in exemplifying that.

Finding his tribe

During the tumultuous time when I was committing to this life-changing decision to take hormones and become the “man” I knew myself to be, I was very fortunate to find a very welcoming feminist men’s group. I was thrilled when I realized I could work beside other feminist men to expand the possibilities of what a man could be in our society by working on issues such as racial justice and ending homophobia. These were my people. They helped me see that I could move through the world as a queer, feminist, race-conscious man without needing to include any qualifiers – like “because I’m trans” or “because I’m queer.”

Sadly, after many years of working together and organizing in Boston, we all went our separate ways with many members ending up spread across the country and no longer in my life. I definitely have felt that loss.

I don’t think I understood how much I craved that kind of community and support until I became  a father. Once again I was taking on a new identity, facing the challenge of defining for myself what kind of dad I would be.

Added challenge: Being an at-home dad

I knew I wanted to be an active and engaged dad, but with zero experience with babies or kids I was at a loss for what my role would look like. In addition, my wife and I realized that, for our family, me staying home with our son was going to be our best option. I would be able to keep some focus on growing my business as a professional speaker, launch my podcast, and work on my book — all while being our son’s primary caregiver.

This presented me with a whole new set of challenges regarding being a father. I had heard stories about how dads are ostracized by moms on the playground or when they pick up their kid at daycare. All my closest friends are women so I knew I would have no trouble socializing with moms, but they wouldn’t know that.

That is why I consumed as many parenting philosophy books as I could in the months leading up to my son’s birth to feel more prepared for this daunting challenge.  In the midst of this research, I discovered The Modern Dads Podcast. The name alone piqued my interest and after listening to one episode I was hooked. The co-hosts were stay-at-home dads who had started a very successful dads group in New York City about a decade ago.

At the end of each Modern Dad episode they ask their guest to define what it means to be a modern dad. Generally the answer includes being engaged, stepping up, not being afraid to try, and challenging traditional definitions of fatherhood.

I like all of this and I’m also hearing that many of these dads are also fairly conscious about their privileges as straight white men. Which is the other big question I’m struggling with: How do I raise my presumably straight, presumably cisgender boy to proud of who he is and aware of the privilege he has in this world?

Progress of a truly modern dad

So how have I progressed with this part of my journey that began almost a year ago?

To counter my fear of being left out I created a Facebook community that I would feel welcomed in and would become a resource and support for other parents. This community for parents of kids about my son’s age has grown to nearly 1,000 members and now hosts a monthly baby clothing swap. Now, lots of moms know me and I’m often greeted by name as I enter a new parenting space. Giving first continues to be the best way I know to build relationships.

Through The Modern Dads Podcast, I learned that Boston had a dads group.  I have since become one of its co-organizers, coordinating weekly and monthly socials for dads and their kiddos. This has given me the opportunity to meet other dads and begin to form friendships with other guys.

I also attended the HomeDadCon, an annual convention sponsored by the National At-Home Dads Network, held this autumn in Raleigh N.C. I mentioned it was held in North Carolina because convention organizers had been grappling with how to deal with the fact that the state has a horribly transphobic and homophobic law on the books. They decided to put out a statement and added an LGBTQ parenting panel to the program for the first time in its 21 years. I saw this as an opportunity to come out as a trans dad and was invited to participate on the LGBTQ parenting panel.

In addition, one of my main takeaways from my convention experience is that we at-home dads are not alone. There are as many reasons dads become at-home dads as their are dads, but many of us cherish this opportunity and wouldn’t trade it for anything. I count myself in that group wholeheartedly. My little guy is the reason I get up every morning. Literally.

Preparing for the future

I am now equipping myself for the day I begin tough conversations about oppression and privilege with my son. My wife and I are committed to providing our son access to and celebrating a range of cultures. We are actively auditing the books he wants to read to be sure they have diverse main characters and show girls taking the lead. We’re bringing our son to cultural festivals and pride festivals. We are honoring the cultural aspects of our religious upbringing — me as an atheist secular Jew and my wife, Jess, as an atheist raised Catholic. We’re also working to diversify the pool of babysitters we call upon to take care of him so he builds relationships with people of diverse races and ethnicities. All of this is to say that we’re taking seriously the responsibility of raising a strong feminist progressive man.

With the support of the parent groups we are part of, our growing community of parent friends, and our best friends who became his queer aunties, I know my son will be given every opportunity to follow in my footsteps. That he will be proud of who he is, outspoken about his beliefs, live his values, and work to make this world better for everyone. That is all we can hope for.

A version of this post first appeared on RobbieSamuels.com.

After all the recent social media and news coverage of what I consider ignorant and disrespectful responses to President Obama’s call for public schools to allow transgender students to use bathrooms matching how they self-identify their gender, I was proud to see the response the principal of my kids’ school sent to our school community (below). I have learned that much thought and many voices contributed to the nearly 20 drafts it took to craft a message that conveyed the values the staff is bring to our children.

Here’s our principal’s message:

As a school community that values each member, child and adult, and the gifts and differences of each, we consistently strive to be inclusive. We have had multiple conversations across the year, in professional development, in “grown-up” meetings, and in classrooms with our children about the care and respect due to each person in our school and world communities. These conversations, aligned with the NYCDOE’s Respect for All initiative have touched on race, culture, ethnic identity and even gender identity. I want to talk briefly about our conversations regarding gender identity.

These discussions have included thoughts on how gender roles are communicated in society. For example, our younger students have discussed how toys are marketed to boys and girls. They have also talked about books that show children behaving in gender creative ways and how labels are used to describe outside appearances rather than how people feel on the inside. Older classes have engaged in conversations around current events involving transgender civil rights. In all situations, conversations in class rooms have been handled in developmentally appropriate ways.

It is a testament to the strong values of diversity and respect that you are providing your children that they are making thoughtful comments in these conversations and then happily return to their work of being children and students.

“Transgender” is a word we cannot turn on the TV without hearing about, but our conversations around gender transcend just this word. We can all think back to a time when we may have been told that girls do XYZ or boys can’t do ABC. When we put our students, their families, our staff, and community members in a box – it makes it hard to break out of that box. For transgender individuals who have the courage to affirm their identity, this can be a challenging road and we as a community need to support our students, families, and staff who identify as transgender.

There are many resources that are available to support communities.  We recommend the following as a starting point:

• Policy: NYCDOE policy
• Community resources
  • The Ackerman Center
  • Gender Spectrum
  • LGBT Center

As a school, we invite you to direct any questions regarding our initiatives to your child’s teacher.