Later this month, I plan to visit 4 states in the Midwest: Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska and South Dakota. If you’ve been following me at all, by now you know that I am traveling to this part of the country in order to meet with trans families, as well as allies and stakeholders.
What you might not know is that I have spent more of my life, to date, in the Midwest than in any other part of the world. I was born in Omaha, NE and spent the first 18 years of my life there. I then moved to a small town in Missouri to attend Truman State University. I have since lived on both coasts of the US and abroad; however, my most formative years were spent in the middle of the country. Nearly all members of my extended family, not to mention several childhood friends, remain there.
I dreamt up this trip because of a desire to expand the reach of my Parent Interview Project to other parts of the country. The greater Boston area, where I live and work, is part of the blue-state, liberal bubble of New England. MA has some of the most extensive protections for trans individuals, both minors and adults. I have been envisioning this trip as a means for expanding representation of trans families living in all parts of the country, including places like these 4 states, where the legislatures have limited or outright banned trans individuals from living their most authentic lives.
Over the course of my adult life, I have lived in San Francisco, DC, London and now Boston and I have met VERY few people who have firsthand knowledge of the Midwest. Many people from the coasts of the US perceive it as a “flyover zone” and are shocked to learn that my hometown of Omaha boasts a population of nearly 1.5 million people. Life happens in middle America whether residents of NYC or LA take notice. This is exactly why this trip matters.
As an adult, I have often expressed my gratitude for having been raised in Nebraska. Being raised within an easy drive of my entire extended family meant that every holiday and summer vacation I spent quality time with grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. More specifically, it meant driving by field after field of corn in the summer and an endless horizon of snow-covered plains in the winter. It also meant that I rode tractors and horses, fed pigs, and played with farm cats. I have seen farm life even though my home was located in the suburbs. I understand the practical, neighborly-focused, pragmatism of Midwest moms who believe in casseroles and Cool Whip. I learned to work hard, be honest, and dream big.
But I also know that growing up in the Midwest reinforced societal prioritization of Christianity, heteronormativity, traditional gender roles and white, patriarchal ideas of beauty and worth. These social norms are standard in the US, but living in Nebraska, unlike life on the coasts, it was hard to find anything different. Even though, generally speaking, people minded their own business when they encountered something outside the norm, being different is hard in middle America.
Knowing this and having lived it as the daughter of a gay man, I am awed by the development of organizations and LGBTQIA centers in all of the Midwest cities I plan to visit. I also felt anticipatory anxiety about informing family and friends about my project: I worried I’d be ghosted and then experienced relieved joy when they expressed a desire to help.
While these 4 states have legislators blatantly lying about the type of care trans kids receive, what I keep coming back to is the kindness of your average Midwesterner. These are not people known for their coldness. These are people who help a person in need while not asking too many questions. While I know that state legislators in Missouri have removed access to gender-affirming care for minors, I find myself trusting in the kind, neighborly qualities of Midwesterners as I travel back to St. Louis with the intention of raising a controversial topic. I believe that the average resident of Sioux Falls would be shocked to learn that parents of trans kids are traveling to Minnesota in order to access the AMA and AAP-recommended medical care their kid deserves. And if they knew more about what trans healthcare actually is, rather than the scary misinformation the right wants them to believe, I think they would be saddened by these bans.
It is my faith in these qualities of people in general that propels me to gather stories in the first place. I believe that most of us have these qualities at our core: the desire to do good, to make a difference, to be in community with others, and to care about the wellbeing of our neighbors. Perhaps naively, I maintain faith that when we share who we are with one another, we are drawn to uplift one another. By sharing our stories and learning the experiences of others, we can no longer hide behind ignorance or fear of the unknown. When we learn about somebody else’s humanity, our empathy follows. My Midwest family taught me to believe this way. In a few weeks time, I’m returning to those roots in order to spread that goodwill far and wide.
This post is part of my series about cis parents of trans, nonbinary and gender-expansive kids called: Parenting Through Transitions. If you liked this post, please subscribe to receive my monthly email newsletter, as well as follow me on social @rachel_hulsteinlowe_llc. If you are interested in learning more about my writing project involving interviews of parents of gender-expansive kids, please go to this page to get the details or to register to participate.
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