spinofflive
Mother and son using cell phone

ParentsFebruary 23, 2017

Teaching love: How to support your children through questions about gender identity

Mother and son using cell phone

Teaching love, tolerance, and inclusivity in the face of hate groups like Family First is incredibly important for our children. Scout Barbour-Evans has advice on talking to kids about gender, and how to support them if they’re transgender, takatāpui, and/or gender-diverse.

My name is Scout, and I’m a takatāpui-identifying student, hopeful politician and hobby-writer living in Dunedin. Takatāpui is the word that I use to describe my gender identity, because my gender is very intrinsically linked with my culture as a Māori person. I whakapapa to Ngāti Kahungunu ki te Wairoa and Ngāti Porou. I’m studying a Bachelor in Social Services at Otago Polytech and a Certificate in Te Reo Māori at Te Wānanga o Raukawa because I don’t know when to give myself a break. I also ran a campaign to become Dunedin’s mayor last year, which confused our local media and caused them to receive a lot of angry letters to the editor about how they “broke their journalistic integrity” by using my pronouns correctly.

Oh, and when you’re talking about me you’ll refer to me with singular they/them/their pronouns. That isn’t optional.   

Initial disclaimer: I’m not a parent. I’m only 21. I actually vetoed my ability to give birth 9 months ago when I started testosterone and chose not to freeze any eggs. I figured my body wouldn’t be able to handle it and my mental health wouldn’t be able to either, and now I’m a little sad about that, but that’s a whole different story. I am, however, lucky enough to have been a big part of the lives of my young cousins, and to work with LGBTQ-identifying young people through OUSA Queer Support and RainbowYOUTH in Dunedin.

Then Spinoff Parents editor Emily Writes asked me to write this piece for all the parents of gender-diverse and non-gender-conforming kids out there in Aotearoa, and the parents of kids in general. Obviously I’m not a parent, but I am a media-recognised gender-diverse person, so I’m perceived to have a little bit of authority on what gender-diverse or transgender people need from society. Namely, human rights and respect.

We’ve all seen the disappointing media hurricane surrounding Family First’s latest campaign, “Ask Me First”, which funnily enough happens to be plagarized word-for-word from a different campaign in the US. We’ve seen “Laura” prodded into complaining by her (IMHO) overbearing, bullying mother who raised a child to believe that transgender people are subhuman in some way. We haven’t heard anything from the student herself – a teenage girl with feelings and rights who does not deserve this bullying from her peers.

It’s a shame, because the Youth ’12 report – a report on the wellbeing of transgender youth in Aotearoa – has shown that 53.5% of trans youth are worried for their own safety at school. 17.6% of them are bullied at school at least weekly, and 19.8% of trans young people had attempted suicide in the last year. These are really, really alarming statistics.

I spoke to RadioLIVE on Wednesday about the fact that everyone is focused on this theoretical, abstract debate about whether or not transgender people should be allowed to pee outside of their own homes, while our transgender rangatahi are suffering in a real, tangible way. We know from seeing the Safe Schools and marriage equality plebiscite debacle in Australia that when this sort of bullying happens by media, the overall wellbeing of our LGBTQ rangatahi goes down.

A still from the anti-transgender Family First video published on the NZ Herald

It’s pretty hard to keep current affairs away from kids these days. Either they see you watching the news, or a kid at school tells them what’s happening, or they hear some adults talking about it.

It isn’t, however, hard to teach your kids about diversity and the importance of respecting that. When Mr 6 asked me if my flowered button-up shirt from Hallensteins was a “girl’s shirt” or a “boy’s shirt”, we had a really cool little chat about how the clothes you wear don’t make you a boy or a girl. When Miss 7 asked me about why I changed my name, we had a awesome, age-appropriate conversation about my whole transition process, where the precocious lil thing asked if the “medicine” the doctor gives me to help me have a “boy’s body” would make me grow a penis and I had to stammer out a surprised “well, we’ll talk about that when you’re a little bit older”. When Miss 8 and Mr 11 asked about my name change, their mum and I talked about how gender isn’t restricted to boys and girls and there are heaps of different people with different genders, and isn’t that so cool that they’ve found ways to feel comfortable and good within themselves?

The point is, children are pretty perceptive and our tamariki will probably overhear something. It’s your choice as a parent how you start the conversation. Just know that if you come at it with love, patience and without making a big deal out of it, that impression will last a lifetime. And it will make it easier for your kids to come out to you in the future if they themselves find that they identify as transgender or non-binary.

If your kids have questions that you don’t know how to answer, or you don’t know how to bring the topic up in a safe and natural way, feel free to get in touch with Rainbow Youth. They have support groups – and there is a support group for parents too. I’d also recommend giving the Cartoon Network show Steven Universe a go – it’s a child appropriate show with really well-developed conversations about inclusivity, diversity, and Garnet (a rock who is actually two lesbian rocks morphed together) is literally #MumGoals.

Teaching diversity, love and tolerance in this disaster of a world we live in is a pretty daunting task, but from all of the children and teenagers I’ve worked with so far, it is so, so worthwhile. I’m a firm believer of the idea that people are inherently good, so catch ‘em when they’re young.

The Spinoff Parents will be publishing a list of ways you can combat Family First’s hatred to support New Zealand’s children tomorrow.

Follow the Spinoff Parents on Facebook and Twitter.


This content is entirely funded by Flick, New Zealand’s fairest power deal. In the past year, their customers saved $489 on average, which would buy enough nappies for months… and months. Please support us by switching to them right now.

[contact-form-7 id=”249″ title=”Flick Connect Form”]

Keep going!
winery-1716143_1280

ParentsFebruary 22, 2017

Cutting the apron strings: Redefining motherhood when your children leave home

winery-1716143_1280

What is it like when your children leave the nest? Amanda May writes about what she had hoped for and what it feels like now that her home is quiet.

In the maelstrom of life, where the to-do-list is ever nagging, I have had moments of yearning for time out, space away from the responsibilities and roles that this motherly life brings – the taxi driver, teacher, nurse, house maid, cook, coach, counselor, advocate, and peacemaker.  I have had thoughts about a time where birdsong or the warm breeze brushing palms fronds might be my only interruptions.

Recently, that moment arrived.

Now young adults, my children are no longer audible; their presence does not fill our home and I am experiencing the silence of them following their own lives, their own dreams and goals.

It feels strange, uncomfortably quiet and my conscious thoughts are of them.

This new position that I had dreamt about was soul-searchingly discordant. My schedule was lacking times and venues and lists; people to be there for, to do for, to schedule into my day. Like a rudderless ship, I aimlessly wandered the house searching for reasons to create some structure, some function to this new found “freedom”.

I felt mixed emotions: pride in my offspring that they had made it this far, successfully followed their hopes and aspirations with an independence, a character, that was their own. Then the sadness – an overwhelming sense of loss; a sense of acknowledgement that my job was almost done.

We spend so many years investing, sacrificing, encouraging and supporting, with a mastermind plan of self sufficiency and success for our children. And yet, as I reach the cusp of this chapter of life, it feels so very different to that which I had imagined.

So I sat and I listened. It was quiet, so very quiet. I missed them. I missed the revolving schedule of maternal life. I missed their banter, their chatter, and their sometimes annoying, frustrating behaviour.

I missed it all.

Life moves on and we must move forward. Sometimes willingly, other times reluctantly. As I sat and pondered the new chapter I was entering, it was with an uncertainty that felt new.

They no longer needed me, my attachment was redundant. Time, then, to create a new schedule that would fill the void. Yet the sadness did not shift. My purpose in life was changing and I wasn’t quite sure if I liked it. For so many years, my thoughts, my actions, my plans, my schedules – all had been subconsciously organised with my children front of mind.

This is what they call “cutting the apron strings” and yet I was clinging desperately to the remaining threads with thoughts of what once was.

But I am coming to a realisation that no matter how grown up, how independent my children are, there will continue to be times where they will still need me and I them. There will continue to be times when we will seek each other’s reference, even though our opinions may differ. There will continue to be times when we simply need to hear each other’s voice as a comfort, or reassurance, or as some guidance in moments of life.

I know and understand that they will form new relationships, share unique bonds of attachment and security, where they will find confidence, comfort and a new kind of love. Which is how it should be.

Yes, the apron strings have been cut, but that unique connection, that mother-child bond remains. Our care for one another and our unquestioning love will ensure the threads of the maternal apron strings will never be completely severed.

I’m okay with that.

Amanda May is a mother of two with over 15 years experience as a Health Visitor and Public Health Nurse. She understands the challenges of motherhood and supports women through her coaching – “mastering motherhood, one step at a time”.

Follow the Spinoff Parents on Facebook and Twitter.


This content is entirely funded by Flick, New Zealand’s fairest power deal. In the past year, their customers saved $489 on average, which would buy enough nappies for months… and months. Please support us by switching to them right now.

[contact-form-7 id=”249″ title=”Flick Connect Form”]