"He/Him." A poem by a transgender middle school student. Two words that began the most eloquent and sensitive look into the heart and mind of a brave young teenager.
Every year I have the opportunity to serve as a guest author at an event put on by our school district for young gifted writers. Every year those kids amaze and inspire me with their writing. This year the inspiration ran off the page and into my heart. One student who identified as a male read his own work and captivated the audience at the table. A beautiful plea for something as simple as pronouns and the pain they can cause. The words and voice of those that scream inside while trying to quietly find their place in the world and some glimmer of love and support. The poem's eloquence and honesty was staggering. The imagery was stunning. The message was humbling.
Every year we authors choose an Author's Choice winner from all of the pieces we hear throughout the sessions. Two of us brought the poem to the table. Others brought different pieces. After reading them and deliberating, the choices were narrowed to two: a raw poem of pronouns and a pretty message-less narrative. The two of us that brought the poem hoped desperately that these authors would seize the opportunity to make a statement of acceptance for the students to carry with them from the event into their own lives and schools.
We were disappointed.
The group voted the two of us down and gave the award to the narrative. It was the safe winner. The non-controversial winner. The other author and I refused to let it go at that, but there was nothing we could do as far as the award went. However, we made sure we spoke to that student and let him know how close he came to winning the award and how brave we thought he was. We let him know that, in our minds, Runner Up won the day in ways a certificate and fancy notebook prize never could.
He touched the hearts of his peers. He opened eyes. He bared his soul.
He won.