The current issue of SF Weekly has an excellent article on t/g children and the possibility of early transition. I think that many here will find it enlightening.
Girl/Boy Interrupted
A new treatment for transgender kids puts puberty on hold so that they won't develop into their biological sex
http://www.sfweekly.com/2007-07-11/news ... pted/print
The article is 12 pages in my print-out, too long to paste here. There are a couple of good comments on the site already. Consider adding your own.
Girl/Boy Interrupted
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Re: Girl/Boy Interrupted
JesusA (imported) wrote: Fri Jul 13, 2007 7:10 am Girl/Boy Interrupted
A new treatment for transgender kids puts puberty on hold so that they won't develop into their biological sex
By LAUREN SMILEY
Published: July 11, 2007
fullJesusA (imported) wrote: Fri Jul 13, 2007 7:10 am http://www.sfweekly.com/2007-07-11/news ... terrupted/
The breast bud popped up about six months ago, and Marty knew something had
to be done. It was the slightest of puckers, just on one side, so small you
wouldn't even notice it through a T-shirt. Still, boys don't get breasts,
and this had the unsettling potential to blow his cover big-time.
That's because Marty was born, by conventional measures of modern science, a
girl. Marty has two X sex chromosomes, like most females, and the hardware
concurs. Yet ever since Marty's parents flew back from China in 1998 with
their 11-month-old adopted baby, their daughter seemed to be programmed
male. She refused dresses by age two and half and mastered peeing while
standing by three. She would identify herself as a girl only when grilled.
When Marty was about six, doctors said she was no tomboy. She seemed to fit
the diagnosis of gender identity disorder (GID), and though dubbing it a
disorder whips up a maelstrom of controversy, the basic sentiment is this:
not only feeling an intense discomfort with one's biological gender, but
also feeling profoundly, compellingly, like the other.
Enrolled in a new school last year as a boy where only the staff knew
otherwise, the nine-year-old passed without a hitch in his wardrobe of Nike
trainers and T-shirts, paired with a crew cut, boyish build, and aggressive
basketball moves at recess. (To keep his secret, the names of the boy and
his parents have been changed.) But the days when the only outward markers
of gender lie in haircuts, clothes, and personality only last so long. Deep
inside Marty's brain, a time bomb known as the hypothalamus waited to stage
a hormone-armed mutiny. Breasts would sprout. Hips would widen. The uterus
would shed blood on a monthly basis. Marty didn't want any of it.
So when the bud appeared, his Bay Area parents hustled him to an appointment
with an endocrinologist at Children's Hospital and Research Center Oakland,
who said the bud might progress no further and puberty could still be a few
years off, his parents recall. They were temporarily relieved. Marty treated
the bump as a boy would poking at it at the dinner table, feeling it
through his button-down shirts. Waiting.
Then, in May, Marty came to his mom frantically: "Mommy, feel this lump! You
have to do something!"
The other breast had budded.
His parents called Children's because now, due to the efforts of a small but
growing number of doctors around the world, something actually could be done
about emerging puberty. The endocrinologist agreed that Mother Nature was
revving up, preparing to take Marty the way of trainer bras, Tampax, and, as
his parents and doctors predicted, increasing distress as his body developed
into a sex that to him seemed a cruel trick of birth. The changes would make
living as a boy impossible in the present, and he'd potentially face
scarring surgery to remove unwanted breasts down the road. What's more, the
upsurge in estrogen would slow and stop his growth, making it harder for him
to ever pass as a male. Of course, that's if Marty would end up living as a
man. As boyish as Marty is, no one could know for sure.
But in the present, nature could be tricked. If they all agreed, Marty would
never have to develop into a woman.
It was time to put puberty on hold.
The preferred drug for the controversial process is Lupron Depot. Slogan for
the pediatric version: "Pause the child within." It's potent, yet
reversible, and incredibly expensive, and for transgender kids backed by
increasingly supportive parents, it's ushering in a new era. Boys who've
always known they were girls won't get beards or deep voices. Girls who feel
like boys will never have to grow breasts or tinker with a tampon.
Long prescribed to temporarily stave off puberty in kids who start
developing too young, the drug blocks the brain's release of the compound
that triggers the chain of hormonal reactions, body mutations, and moody
angst. Now an unknown number of doctors in the Bay Area, the country, and
across the globe are following the lead of a fledgling treatment pioneered
at a Dutch clinic that's sparked debate in medical and ethical circles
alike. The Dutch clinicians are suspending kids in physical childhood to buy
them time to decide if they wish to begin the sexual reassignment process.
If so, after a few years of continued psychological monitoring, they can
start hormones to induce an "opposite-sex puberty." If not, the teen can
stop taking the periodic Lupron injections and appear to develop normally,
as kids treated with the drug for early puberty have for years.
Although treating transgender kids is a non-FDA-approved or "off-label" use
of the drug (which is legal, and is done frequently with other medications)
the treatment is fast gaining legitimacy in the medical world. The world's
largest association of health professionals who specialize in transgender
issues approved the procedure in its most recent treatment guidelines. A
handful of doctors have touted the procedure at big-name medical
conferences. More doctors are catching on.
"It's time we have something going here in the Bay Area, because we should
be at the forefront of this," says Herb Schreier, a psychiatrist at
Children's Hospital Oakland.
Advocates say the treatment saves kids the anguish of continuing to develop
into a gender they don't identify with reducing the risk of everything
from depression to self-mutilation to suicide attempts as well as later
surgeries to undo what Mother Nature has done. By sitting out the
irreversible changes of biological puberty, patients will pass more easily
as the target sex, protecting them from potential discrimination and even
violence. And transphobic violence is something that the Bay Area has been
known for at least once, when partygoers beat and strangled 17-year-old Gwen
Araujo of Newark to death in 2002 upon discovering she was a biological male
living as a female. In March, the body of Ruby Ordenana, a transgender
Nicaraguan immigrant, was found near a highway off-ramp in Potrero Hill.
"If you have someone who's 6-3, with broad shoulders like a football player
and a deep voice, there's no amount of surgery or hormones in the world
that's going to allow that person to pass and be safe," says Nick Gorton, a
doctor who treats transgender patients at Lyon-Martin Women's Health
Services in San Francisco. "If you treat them [young] then maybe at 25 they
won't get raped, beaten, and killed."
So far, none of the 60 or so teens choosing to delay puberty at the Dutch
clinic have turned back. None have reportedly had regrets. Yet no matter how
happy the patients seem, put "delay" and "puberty" in the same sentence, add
in a little-understood condition like GID for which science still cannot
pinpoint a cause, and, well, people start talking.
Some doctors say kids need to experience puberty to truly know if they're
misplaced in their bodies, and warn that the long-term side effects of
diverting nature's route are still unknown. A few doctors believe medicine
should never intervene to change a person's body to match gender identity,
no matter the age what one transwoman doctor dubbed the "you should be
what God made you regardless of how miserable you are" camp. Paul McHugh,
the psychiatrist who spearheaded the closure of the sexual reassignment
clinic at Johns Hopkins Hospital in the 1970s, is an appointee to the
President's Council on Bioethics. He calls the Lupron treatment "a modern
form of child abuse."
"Some say you're playing God," says Stephanie Brill, the facilitator of a
Bay Area support group for parents of gender-variant kids. "Our entire
society is based on gender, and this hits right into the religious right and
the whole Moral Majority idea, and doctors are worried of losing their
funding and the backing of their hospitals if they do it."
Indeed, some U.S. doctors don't seem to be clamoring for attention. Norman
Spack at Children's Hospital Boston, who has supported the treatment in a
medical article and on ABC's 20/20, declined to comment for this story. A
doctor at Kaiser Permanente identified by a Bay Area family as their son's
provider of the Lupron treatment also would not speak. But Schreier of
Children's Hospital Oakland says he's not worried: "What we're doing is
based on data, not based on emotions or religious beliefs."
All seem to agree on one issue: No matter how reversible Lupron may be, when
studies indicate that the vast majority of kids with some gender-variant
behavior in childhood will grow out of it, how do you block puberty in the
right kids?
Marty's parents say they are 99.8 percent sure that his identification as a
boy is here to stay. Though they accept that now, it was certainly not their
expectation, let alone their choice. Actually, checking "girl" on the
adoption forms was a no-brainer for the middle-aged lesbian couple. As
ardent feminists, the attorney and child psychologist felt equipped to raise
an independent-minded girl, and Marty seemed to be right on track.
When she saw an astronaut, politician, or athlete on the TV, she said, "I
want to do that!" "Of course you can!" the mothers would answer. She ignored
dolls, but loved trucks. Somewhere around age two and a half, Marty refused
to raise her arms when her mother tried to put a dress on her, the first
time she'd ever rejected an outfit. One day out of the blue, she looked her
mother in the eye and asked, "When is it my turn to be a boy?"
The mothers grew puzzled. Maybe she was just trying to set herself apart
from her newly adopted little sister. They certainly didn't want to
overreact. If Marty would only wear drab clothes from Target's boys
department, why waste money on skirts? If she was proud she could pee like
the boys at preschool, planting her feet together and arching her back to
hit the pot, well, at least she was potty-trained. But they also didn't want
to fan the flames.
"I was aware to not pin him to a decision he made at the age of two," says
Margaret, the child-psychologist parent. "I didn't want to build it in as a
permanent part of his personality."
Marty became increasingly self-conscious about being identified as a girl.
With her bob haircut, she let kids at school assume she was a boy, and
avoided the bathroom all day so she wouldn't have to pick one. She refused
to change her swimsuit in the girl's locker room at the YMCA.
At age five, the discord between her identity and body seemed to take its
emotional toll. At times she would play recklessly, and at other times, seem
withdrawn and preoccupied. Marty's parents took her in for a psychiatric
evaluation, and she was prescribed antidepressants. She told Margaret that
if she had to be a girl, she'd rather die.
But one topic seemed to cheer the kid up. One day, Janet, the attorney, told
her that a friend's daughter had started transitioning to manhood in her
20s. Marty lit up, pelting Janet with questions. How? It involved hormones
and a surgery. Can I have it now? Can I get my penis? Janet said they would
support her in whatever she decided, but that she would have to wait till
she was older.
But the parents soon learned that interventions can start much earlier than
that. Marty's pediatrician pulled the mothers in after the child's annual
checkup: We all see what's going on here, don't we? Every year, the girl was
presenting more and more like a boy. The doctor said the parents should find
an endocrinologist who delays puberty for transgender kids. When puberty
hit, the family didn't want to be caught off-guard.
Janet was skeptical. Although she'd trumpeted lesbian causes for years, she
knew little about transgender people. How permanent could this really be in
a seven-year-old kid? She and Margaret started attending a support group for
parents of gender-variant children, and discovered one couple was calling
their son "she." Janet thought it was a little odd.
"You would think of all people, I, who came out and went through all of this
hullabaloo with my parents, would have the consciousness to understand
people are who they are," Janet says. "But for me, with Marty, it didn't
translate."
But that would change after two years of the support group, a barrage of
books, Internet searches, and an Oprah episode on transgender kids that
Marty watched a dozen times. When Schreier, the support group's
psychiatrist, explained there was no way that parents could have made their
kid this way, any last remnants of guilt dissolved.
"Look, we're a lesbian couple," Margaret says. "Even if we didn't think we
did, I know a lot of other people would think we influenced his gender
identity."
Finally last summer, at age eight, Marty said she wanted to be considered
"he." A boy. Their son.
"I finally got it," Margaret says. "This is an identity."
They were both sad to part with their idea of a daughter, but any final
doubts faded after seeing how Marty seemed to glow in his new role, going to
a new school as one of the boys.
But puberty?
The mothers had heard talk of "blockers" flung around in the support group,
and had done some initial Googling on treatments. They attended a seminar
this spring where Spack, the doctor from Children's Hospital Boston,
explained the treatment for delaying puberty. Having been prescribed Lupron
herself for fibroids years before and ballooning 50 pounds in four months,
Margaret wasn't thrilled about the drug choice. (Indeed, women prescribed
the drug for the approved uses for endometriosis or fibroids fill Internet
message boards with complaints of hot flashes, mood swings, memory loss, and
pain.) But the most common side effect in kids is irritation, sometimes
including a sterile abscess, at the site of injection.
The idea of the injections was initially a relief to the parents. Something
could be done, and with Janet's salary as an attorney, they could afford the
approximately $1,800 shot four times a year even without help from
insurance, if need be. But the option also added pressure. With Marty too
young to fully grasp the implications, the decision to start was going to
fall on them. The mothers knew they had altered the course of Marty's life
the day they adopted him, changing his status from a Chinese orphan to an
adopted Chinese-American child of gay parents. Now they faced taking the
first step in what could become a transition to an identity even further
from the mainstream: transman. All along, they had figured that decision
would still be some years off.
But Marty turned nine and his breast buds demanded attention.
Give Marty a couple years without the shots and he might look something like
the girl who sat before Dr. Henriette Delemarre-van de Waal at the Free
University Medical Center in Amsterdam in 1986. Referred by a psychologist
who diagnosed GID, the 12-year-old ace student was depressed about her
growing breasts, which she had been binding to her chest to disguise. She
wanted to be a boy.
The endocrinologist had never worked with a patient with GID, but a drug
known as a GnRH blocker, the same compound as Lupron, had recently gone on
the market and was being used to delay puberty for kids who developed too
soon. The solution seemed obvious.
"She was crying for help, so I thought, let's try," Delemarre-van de Waal
says. The treatment greatly alleviated the patient's distress, according to
the doctor. At 17, the patient began taking testosterone, and later
underwent sexual reassignment surgery. He is now a veterinarian.
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Re: Girl/Boy Interrupted
Continued from #1
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That positive outcome seemed to agree with follow-up studies of Dutch
adolescents that indicated those who started hormone therapy between 16 and 18 were more satisfied with their sexual reassignment surgery and had fewer psychological problems than people who started transitioning in adulthood. Meanwhile, Dutch psychologist Dr. Peggy Cohen-Kettenis was seeing younger and younger patients with GID, many of whom were so distraught that they couldn't start hormones until 16 that therapy couldn't reach them.
So about seven years ago, the Amsterdam Gender Clinic became the first in
the world to regularly block the early and still reversible stages of
puberty, provided that the patients met strict requirements: their GID had
persisted since an early age, they were otherwise psychologically stable,
and had a supportive family.
The clinic has treated around 60 adolescents between the ages of 12 and 16
so far with the GnRH blocker, about half of whom were referred early enough
to start shortly after the onset of puberty. For those who had reached the
middle stages of puberty, the drug could slightly reverse and stop any
further development. All patients decided to start hormones of the target
sex once they became eligible at age 16.
Ever since the first forays into treating humans with cross-sex hormones in
the 1930s and '40s, men taking estrogens and women testosterone has brought
on expected changes. But by blocking puberty first, the changes can start on
a blank canvas, resulting in a closer replication of the opposite sex's
development. With estrogens, biological boys grow breasts, and fat will
collect on the hips and thighs to create an hourglass shape. By blocking the
growth-spurt-inducing testosterone of male puberty, they'll likely end up
shorter a plus if wanting to pass as a woman. The penis and testes will
remain at a pre-puberty size, the voice will not drop, and no Adam's apple
will jut out. The face will not grow rugged ridges like that of a man's,
although the clinic will take pictures every three months to determine the
exact effects on bone structure.
With testosterone, biological girls gain muscle in the shoulders and grow
male-pattern body hair. Their voice will drop, an Adam's apple pops out, and
the clitoris lengthens a few centimeters. Since they've held off female
puberty's estrogen, which tapers off bone growth, they gain time to put on
some inches. Height can be further enhanced by growth-stimulating hormones
along with the GnRH blocker, and is given one final push by the
testosterone-fueled growth spurt. The Dutch doctors say the interventions
have been able to add or subtract up to five to seven inches from patients'
predicted heights.
With continued counseling, and after having lived for a period as the target
gender, both sexes are eligible for surgery at age 18 to remove the testes
or ovaries. After that, they stop the GnRH blocker.
Not all countries have such easy access. Hormonal intervention must be
approved in court in some countries, and with Lupron costing roughly $500 to
$700 a month in the United States, the treatment is out of reach for many
families. Some doctors report getting payment from insurance by playing with
the wording in the diagnosis leaving the word "transgender" out but many
others have run into a brick wall with third-party payers, raising concerns
in the transgender community that the treatment could create a class
division between those who can and can't access treatment.
Without the luxury of delaying puberty with Lupron, some doctors go straight
to prescribing cross-sex hormones to kids as young as 12 or 13 to override
their natural puberty and allow them to develop as the target sex at the
same time as their peers. Cross-sex hormones can cost as little as $25 to
$70 a month, a fraction of the cost of Lupron, but many of the changes are
permanent.
"Most [adolescents] don't want to just suppress. They want to move," says
Marvin Belzer, an adolescent medicine specialist who has started young teens
on cross-sex hormones at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. "In our society in
America, starting early has far less bad consequences than starting late."
But not all are convinced starting early is best. The team at the Gender
Identity Development Service at the Tavistock Clinic in London will not
intervene until puberty is nearly complete, saying the experience may help
patients make a more informed decision about being misplaced in their body.
Domenico Di Ceglie, the team's child and adolescent psychiatrist, wrote in
an e-mail that 20 percent of the adolescents treated in the clinic no longer
wanted any intervention once they'd completed puberty.
He warns that the long-term effects of delaying puberty are unknown. He
questions whether the puberty-blocking treatment itself could affect a
patient's gender identity, since adolescence is a key time for brain
development and a possible time for a change in perceived gender.
Then there's the question of bone density: The London team questions whether
delaying puberty could cause a long-term deficiency, since bone accrues at a
rapid rate with the hormonal flurry of adolescence. The Dutch say their
patients' bone density catches up to normal once they begin cross-hormones,
but patients will be monitored until age 25 to see if there are any final
differences.
The two teams plan to compare their outcomes in follow-up studies, but they
agree on one principle: With studies showing anywhere from 75 to nearly 90
percent of children with gender-variant behavior will eventually be
comfortable with their biological sex, tight screening is key.
The younger the patient, the more likely that the child will change his or
her mind, says Ken Zucker, a psychologist who has treated 500 gender-variant
children and serves as head of the Gender Identity Service at the Centre for
Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto.
"I just haven't seen these kids where at age 10 I'm convinced that this is
the way they're going to be." Zucker says. "Doing this type of endocrine
treatment seems pretty cool, but it tends to ignore the possibility that
psychological therapies can help kids resolve their gender identity
confusion."
So it comes down to an ethical dilemma of choosing the lesser evil: wrongly
suppressing puberty in kids who will grow out of their gender variance or
refusing treatment to all. Peter Lee, a professor of pediatrics at Penn
State College of Medicine who has treated three young transgender teens with
Lupron, knows on which side he'd rather err. Twenty years ago, a biological
female who identified as male came to him in late adolescence with "so much
pain and agony with her development in the wrong direction" that she later
committed suicide.
"So you're balancing that against the risk [of wrongly putting someone on
Lupron]," Dr. Lee says, because with Lupron, "sooner or later in this realm,
if you deal with enough individuals, you will make a mistake, and will have
judged incorrectly."
Few of the transgender adults interviewed for this story said they had the
consciousness at such a young age to know what transgender was in the days
before Internet communities and Oprah specials, let alone that they would
assume this identity. While many concede that kids who receive this
treatment will have an easier time in puberty and passing in the years
beyond, some question how transitioning so early will change a community
where having lived on both sides of the gender line is part of a collective
identity.
After living 17 years as a male, followed by years of hormones to
transition, Alexis Rivera of the Transgender Law Center says she decided to
go off hormones and settle into a space somewhere between male and female,
and now at 29, has proudly done so.
"If medical technology keeps advancing, are we going to eradicate
transgenderism?" Rivera asks. "The younger the transition starts, the
younger you start socializing a biological female as a boy, they're not
going to have that transgender identity. They're not going to have to walk
this earth as their genetic sex."
Juan struts across the parking lot with the lumbering gait of a macho guy in
training, with an eighth-grade graduation gown flung over his shoulder and a
rhinestone glistening in one ear. He slaps five and curls fingers with a
friend and then hugs a pretty classmate in heels who poses over Juan's
shoulder so his mom can snap a photo.
"She's taller than you," blurts out Juan's seven-year-old niece.
Not what a 14-year-old guy wants to hear, but Juan doesn't flinch. In this
life, at this South Bay school, his identity is solid, his male status a
commonly held truth. But just blocks and three years away sits Juan's old
elementary school, where the truth was different. There, kids knew him by
another name. There, kids knew him as a girl.
Juan has been on Lupron for two and a half years, sometime after he took
down the pictures in the house where he appeared as a girl, said goodbye to
his fifth-grade classmates for good, and showed up for sixth grade with a
new identity.
Without the monthly Lupron injections, Juan would have breasts by now. He
would most likely be shaving his legs, whereas they still only have the
slightest whisps of hair. Without the nightly shot of the growth-stimulating
hormone, he would likely be shorter than he is, and he's still only 5-2,
just taller than his mom. But because of Lupron, he passes as 100 percent
boy, and for now, everything rests on nobody knowing any differently. (His
name has been changed for this story.)
Before Juan showed up at his new school three years ago, his mother worked
out the ground rules with the school for the stealth experiment: The staff
would know and Juan would use the nurse's bathroom. During the first few
days of school, Juan sometimes didn't respond to his new name, his teacher
recalls. She warned him that boys don't dot their "i's" with hearts, and his
handwriting got less loopy. His seventh-grade teacher kept the attendance
list where Juan was still marked "F" for female in her desk. When a kid
noticed that Juan had an "F" by his name for his physical fitness test, the
teacher made a fast save: Those state bureaucrats must have made a mistake,
she joked. She remembers Juan looked a little sick, but they pulled it off.
Funny, outgoing, and, with his long lashes and delicate features, Juan is
pretty cute. The ladies loved him, "and they were the very beautiful popular
girls," a teacher remembers. His sixth-grade teacher talked with him outside
of class about his string of girlfriends: Was it really fair to the girls if
they think they're dating a boy? When in seventh grade Juan started dating a
girl who had older brothers who would spell trouble if Juan were to be found
out, the school staff got worried. Juan's mom thought they were
overreacting. After a chat with the Transgender Law Center, the staff
decided they couldn't ban him from having girlfriends. But the romance
seemed to fizzle anyway, and Juan started a "girls are too much drama" line
that many boys copied from him. But it didn't last long, and soon, he was
holding hands and slow dancing with girls again, his teachers recall.
He's gotten good at cover-up strategies. While Juan's mom recounted in the
family's living room how Juan cried when he had to wear skirts to elementary
school, his niece, who, like the other young relatives, don't know he was
born a girl, grabbed his shoulders:
"You're a girl?"
"No."
"Why did you wear a skirt on the first day of kindergarten?"
"Why did you wear a skirt on the first day of kindergarten?" he shoots back.
"Because I'm a girl," she answers, seems to lose interest, and bounces out
of the room. Did that bother Juan? He nods, eyebrows knit.
On weekends or breaks, Juan flew to transgender conferences. He'd sit on
panels of transgender kids. He'd read a poem he penned at Transgender Day of
Remembrance. His mother said he'd then go back to school, the monthly Lupron
shots at Kaiser Permanente Vallejo Medical Center sustaining his secret.
"He kind of has this double life," his eighth-grade teacher says. "He's so
scared but so brave. I wish he would've [come out]. I'm just scared to death
some mean person is going to find out and hurt him with it."
Back at graduation, Juan accepts his diploma and walks out into a congested
lobby. A high school hottie in bloom who hasn't seen him for a year hugs
him, pressing her body into his side and rocking back and forth. Juan looks
a little overwhelmed by the ferocity of her ardor, but doesn't pull away.
She kisses him goodbye on the cheek. Out on the sidewalk, a petite
bespectacled girl takes a running leap at him that knocks him off balance:
"Juan! I gotta hug yoooooou!" A few last hugs and pictures, and Juan climbs
into the car and shoots a backward peace sign to a classmate from the
window. "I'm going to miss them all," he says.
Done. He pulled it off for three years. Next stop: high school and a whole
new set of people to convince. But by the time the first day rolls around,
Juan might have a little help from his body to back him up. He got his first
testosterone shot the week he turned 14 in May, and the facial hair and low
voice are on the way.
Marty chases the Spalding basketball across the asphalt, past the girls on
the swings, past his mom Margaret observing from a bench. "I'm trying to
shoot from the three!" he yells, before dribbling back to the court, the
long late-afternoon shadow of a boy in a baseball hat pattering alongside.
"Would you ever mistake him for a girl?" Margaret marvels. "He looks like a
baseball player running out to take his post at second base or something."
Both mothers say they've gotten used to Marty as a boy. They rarely slip on
pronouns anymore, and admit that they're sometimes caught off-guard when
Marty strips for a bath and they realize he's still a physical girl. When he
budded breasts, Janet says she revisited the sadness of losing her daughter.
They acknowledge Marty has chosen a difficult path. Already, they are
careful about with whom they share the truth. They sat out the Trans March
on Pride weekend, partly because of the risk of getting put on the news, and
they know life will only get more complicated as Marty gets older and
birthday parties and day camps turn into locker rooms and school dances.
But mostly they worry about making a mistake. There's no denying that Marty
isn't one for introspection, and he can't much pontificate at length about
the future. He still takes a "yuck" approach to anything romantic, and when
his mothers have introduced him to transgender adults visiting the support
group, they think much of the significance goes over his head. He stops
batting his basketball against a wall long enough to reflect on puberty:
A period? "Sick."
Breasts? "Floppy," he says, juggling imaginary ones with his palms, adding
"I don't want bras!"
Back to wall ball.
His parents say they would be shocked if he were to turn back now.
"You don't realize how serious this quest is until you follow the kid's
lead," Janet says. "I'm convinced he feels like a boy inside."
"I figure if you have a Beethoven," Margaret adds, "you don't take away the
piano."
So they will ensure Marty's body doesn't do any deciding for him, leaving
the road open with Lupron until Marty can better navigate to points female,
trans-male, or somewhere in between. It's a decision, essentially, not to
decide. But of course that's still a decision.
So the Lupron has been ordered, and the family is waiting for the loaded
syringe to arrive in the mail. Once it does, they'll climb into the car and
drive to Children's Hospital Oakland, where Marty will steel himself and
take the first shot.
©2007 Village Voice Media All rights reserved.
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That positive outcome seemed to agree with follow-up studies of Dutch
adolescents that indicated those who started hormone therapy between 16 and 18 were more satisfied with their sexual reassignment surgery and had fewer psychological problems than people who started transitioning in adulthood. Meanwhile, Dutch psychologist Dr. Peggy Cohen-Kettenis was seeing younger and younger patients with GID, many of whom were so distraught that they couldn't start hormones until 16 that therapy couldn't reach them.
So about seven years ago, the Amsterdam Gender Clinic became the first in
the world to regularly block the early and still reversible stages of
puberty, provided that the patients met strict requirements: their GID had
persisted since an early age, they were otherwise psychologically stable,
and had a supportive family.
The clinic has treated around 60 adolescents between the ages of 12 and 16
so far with the GnRH blocker, about half of whom were referred early enough
to start shortly after the onset of puberty. For those who had reached the
middle stages of puberty, the drug could slightly reverse and stop any
further development. All patients decided to start hormones of the target
sex once they became eligible at age 16.
Ever since the first forays into treating humans with cross-sex hormones in
the 1930s and '40s, men taking estrogens and women testosterone has brought
on expected changes. But by blocking puberty first, the changes can start on
a blank canvas, resulting in a closer replication of the opposite sex's
development. With estrogens, biological boys grow breasts, and fat will
collect on the hips and thighs to create an hourglass shape. By blocking the
growth-spurt-inducing testosterone of male puberty, they'll likely end up
shorter a plus if wanting to pass as a woman. The penis and testes will
remain at a pre-puberty size, the voice will not drop, and no Adam's apple
will jut out. The face will not grow rugged ridges like that of a man's,
although the clinic will take pictures every three months to determine the
exact effects on bone structure.
With testosterone, biological girls gain muscle in the shoulders and grow
male-pattern body hair. Their voice will drop, an Adam's apple pops out, and
the clitoris lengthens a few centimeters. Since they've held off female
puberty's estrogen, which tapers off bone growth, they gain time to put on
some inches. Height can be further enhanced by growth-stimulating hormones
along with the GnRH blocker, and is given one final push by the
testosterone-fueled growth spurt. The Dutch doctors say the interventions
have been able to add or subtract up to five to seven inches from patients'
predicted heights.
With continued counseling, and after having lived for a period as the target
gender, both sexes are eligible for surgery at age 18 to remove the testes
or ovaries. After that, they stop the GnRH blocker.
Not all countries have such easy access. Hormonal intervention must be
approved in court in some countries, and with Lupron costing roughly $500 to
$700 a month in the United States, the treatment is out of reach for many
families. Some doctors report getting payment from insurance by playing with
the wording in the diagnosis leaving the word "transgender" out but many
others have run into a brick wall with third-party payers, raising concerns
in the transgender community that the treatment could create a class
division between those who can and can't access treatment.
Without the luxury of delaying puberty with Lupron, some doctors go straight
to prescribing cross-sex hormones to kids as young as 12 or 13 to override
their natural puberty and allow them to develop as the target sex at the
same time as their peers. Cross-sex hormones can cost as little as $25 to
$70 a month, a fraction of the cost of Lupron, but many of the changes are
permanent.
"Most [adolescents] don't want to just suppress. They want to move," says
Marvin Belzer, an adolescent medicine specialist who has started young teens
on cross-sex hormones at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. "In our society in
America, starting early has far less bad consequences than starting late."
But not all are convinced starting early is best. The team at the Gender
Identity Development Service at the Tavistock Clinic in London will not
intervene until puberty is nearly complete, saying the experience may help
patients make a more informed decision about being misplaced in their body.
Domenico Di Ceglie, the team's child and adolescent psychiatrist, wrote in
an e-mail that 20 percent of the adolescents treated in the clinic no longer
wanted any intervention once they'd completed puberty.
He warns that the long-term effects of delaying puberty are unknown. He
questions whether the puberty-blocking treatment itself could affect a
patient's gender identity, since adolescence is a key time for brain
development and a possible time for a change in perceived gender.
Then there's the question of bone density: The London team questions whether
delaying puberty could cause a long-term deficiency, since bone accrues at a
rapid rate with the hormonal flurry of adolescence. The Dutch say their
patients' bone density catches up to normal once they begin cross-hormones,
but patients will be monitored until age 25 to see if there are any final
differences.
The two teams plan to compare their outcomes in follow-up studies, but they
agree on one principle: With studies showing anywhere from 75 to nearly 90
percent of children with gender-variant behavior will eventually be
comfortable with their biological sex, tight screening is key.
The younger the patient, the more likely that the child will change his or
her mind, says Ken Zucker, a psychologist who has treated 500 gender-variant
children and serves as head of the Gender Identity Service at the Centre for
Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto.
"I just haven't seen these kids where at age 10 I'm convinced that this is
the way they're going to be." Zucker says. "Doing this type of endocrine
treatment seems pretty cool, but it tends to ignore the possibility that
psychological therapies can help kids resolve their gender identity
confusion."
So it comes down to an ethical dilemma of choosing the lesser evil: wrongly
suppressing puberty in kids who will grow out of their gender variance or
refusing treatment to all. Peter Lee, a professor of pediatrics at Penn
State College of Medicine who has treated three young transgender teens with
Lupron, knows on which side he'd rather err. Twenty years ago, a biological
female who identified as male came to him in late adolescence with "so much
pain and agony with her development in the wrong direction" that she later
committed suicide.
"So you're balancing that against the risk [of wrongly putting someone on
Lupron]," Dr. Lee says, because with Lupron, "sooner or later in this realm,
if you deal with enough individuals, you will make a mistake, and will have
judged incorrectly."
Few of the transgender adults interviewed for this story said they had the
consciousness at such a young age to know what transgender was in the days
before Internet communities and Oprah specials, let alone that they would
assume this identity. While many concede that kids who receive this
treatment will have an easier time in puberty and passing in the years
beyond, some question how transitioning so early will change a community
where having lived on both sides of the gender line is part of a collective
identity.
After living 17 years as a male, followed by years of hormones to
transition, Alexis Rivera of the Transgender Law Center says she decided to
go off hormones and settle into a space somewhere between male and female,
and now at 29, has proudly done so.
"If medical technology keeps advancing, are we going to eradicate
transgenderism?" Rivera asks. "The younger the transition starts, the
younger you start socializing a biological female as a boy, they're not
going to have that transgender identity. They're not going to have to walk
this earth as their genetic sex."
Juan struts across the parking lot with the lumbering gait of a macho guy in
training, with an eighth-grade graduation gown flung over his shoulder and a
rhinestone glistening in one ear. He slaps five and curls fingers with a
friend and then hugs a pretty classmate in heels who poses over Juan's
shoulder so his mom can snap a photo.
"She's taller than you," blurts out Juan's seven-year-old niece.
Not what a 14-year-old guy wants to hear, but Juan doesn't flinch. In this
life, at this South Bay school, his identity is solid, his male status a
commonly held truth. But just blocks and three years away sits Juan's old
elementary school, where the truth was different. There, kids knew him by
another name. There, kids knew him as a girl.
Juan has been on Lupron for two and a half years, sometime after he took
down the pictures in the house where he appeared as a girl, said goodbye to
his fifth-grade classmates for good, and showed up for sixth grade with a
new identity.
Without the monthly Lupron injections, Juan would have breasts by now. He
would most likely be shaving his legs, whereas they still only have the
slightest whisps of hair. Without the nightly shot of the growth-stimulating
hormone, he would likely be shorter than he is, and he's still only 5-2,
just taller than his mom. But because of Lupron, he passes as 100 percent
boy, and for now, everything rests on nobody knowing any differently. (His
name has been changed for this story.)
Before Juan showed up at his new school three years ago, his mother worked
out the ground rules with the school for the stealth experiment: The staff
would know and Juan would use the nurse's bathroom. During the first few
days of school, Juan sometimes didn't respond to his new name, his teacher
recalls. She warned him that boys don't dot their "i's" with hearts, and his
handwriting got less loopy. His seventh-grade teacher kept the attendance
list where Juan was still marked "F" for female in her desk. When a kid
noticed that Juan had an "F" by his name for his physical fitness test, the
teacher made a fast save: Those state bureaucrats must have made a mistake,
she joked. She remembers Juan looked a little sick, but they pulled it off.
Funny, outgoing, and, with his long lashes and delicate features, Juan is
pretty cute. The ladies loved him, "and they were the very beautiful popular
girls," a teacher remembers. His sixth-grade teacher talked with him outside
of class about his string of girlfriends: Was it really fair to the girls if
they think they're dating a boy? When in seventh grade Juan started dating a
girl who had older brothers who would spell trouble if Juan were to be found
out, the school staff got worried. Juan's mom thought they were
overreacting. After a chat with the Transgender Law Center, the staff
decided they couldn't ban him from having girlfriends. But the romance
seemed to fizzle anyway, and Juan started a "girls are too much drama" line
that many boys copied from him. But it didn't last long, and soon, he was
holding hands and slow dancing with girls again, his teachers recall.
He's gotten good at cover-up strategies. While Juan's mom recounted in the
family's living room how Juan cried when he had to wear skirts to elementary
school, his niece, who, like the other young relatives, don't know he was
born a girl, grabbed his shoulders:
"You're a girl?"
"No."
"Why did you wear a skirt on the first day of kindergarten?"
"Why did you wear a skirt on the first day of kindergarten?" he shoots back.
"Because I'm a girl," she answers, seems to lose interest, and bounces out
of the room. Did that bother Juan? He nods, eyebrows knit.
On weekends or breaks, Juan flew to transgender conferences. He'd sit on
panels of transgender kids. He'd read a poem he penned at Transgender Day of
Remembrance. His mother said he'd then go back to school, the monthly Lupron
shots at Kaiser Permanente Vallejo Medical Center sustaining his secret.
"He kind of has this double life," his eighth-grade teacher says. "He's so
scared but so brave. I wish he would've [come out]. I'm just scared to death
some mean person is going to find out and hurt him with it."
Back at graduation, Juan accepts his diploma and walks out into a congested
lobby. A high school hottie in bloom who hasn't seen him for a year hugs
him, pressing her body into his side and rocking back and forth. Juan looks
a little overwhelmed by the ferocity of her ardor, but doesn't pull away.
She kisses him goodbye on the cheek. Out on the sidewalk, a petite
bespectacled girl takes a running leap at him that knocks him off balance:
"Juan! I gotta hug yoooooou!" A few last hugs and pictures, and Juan climbs
into the car and shoots a backward peace sign to a classmate from the
window. "I'm going to miss them all," he says.
Done. He pulled it off for three years. Next stop: high school and a whole
new set of people to convince. But by the time the first day rolls around,
Juan might have a little help from his body to back him up. He got his first
testosterone shot the week he turned 14 in May, and the facial hair and low
voice are on the way.
Marty chases the Spalding basketball across the asphalt, past the girls on
the swings, past his mom Margaret observing from a bench. "I'm trying to
shoot from the three!" he yells, before dribbling back to the court, the
long late-afternoon shadow of a boy in a baseball hat pattering alongside.
"Would you ever mistake him for a girl?" Margaret marvels. "He looks like a
baseball player running out to take his post at second base or something."
Both mothers say they've gotten used to Marty as a boy. They rarely slip on
pronouns anymore, and admit that they're sometimes caught off-guard when
Marty strips for a bath and they realize he's still a physical girl. When he
budded breasts, Janet says she revisited the sadness of losing her daughter.
They acknowledge Marty has chosen a difficult path. Already, they are
careful about with whom they share the truth. They sat out the Trans March
on Pride weekend, partly because of the risk of getting put on the news, and
they know life will only get more complicated as Marty gets older and
birthday parties and day camps turn into locker rooms and school dances.
But mostly they worry about making a mistake. There's no denying that Marty
isn't one for introspection, and he can't much pontificate at length about
the future. He still takes a "yuck" approach to anything romantic, and when
his mothers have introduced him to transgender adults visiting the support
group, they think much of the significance goes over his head. He stops
batting his basketball against a wall long enough to reflect on puberty:
A period? "Sick."
Breasts? "Floppy," he says, juggling imaginary ones with his palms, adding
"I don't want bras!"
Back to wall ball.
His parents say they would be shocked if he were to turn back now.
"You don't realize how serious this quest is until you follow the kid's
lead," Janet says. "I'm convinced he feels like a boy inside."
"I figure if you have a Beethoven," Margaret adds, "you don't take away the
piano."
So they will ensure Marty's body doesn't do any deciding for him, leaving
the road open with Lupron until Marty can better navigate to points female,
trans-male, or somewhere in between. It's a decision, essentially, not to
decide. But of course that's still a decision.
So the Lupron has been ordered, and the family is waiting for the loaded
syringe to arrive in the mail. Once it does, they'll climb into the car and
drive to Children's Hospital Oakland, where Marty will steel himself and
take the first shot.
©2007 Village Voice Media All rights reserved.
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andrew2005 (imported)
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Re: Girl/Boy Interrupted
Brilliant, as I said in the other post. This is a good step, I'm convinced.