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He had a crush on Skylar, which wasn’t new to anyone at the party that night. This boy has a very readable face he constantly forgets about. Even Skylar’s girlfriend knew about the crush. Of course, he would be the one with feelings for his boss. This boy has a history of poor boundaries with authority. Earlier in the month, he ended a complex relationship with his graduate advisor who was not allowed to date undergraduates, which he was at the beginning of the relationship.
It’s not that he wanted to impress Skylar. He silently enjoyed the fact that this crush reminded him of what it was like to care about someone. He just genuinely cared for her. He knew how much pain her life had caused her, whether she was going to admit it or not. He felt like he could empathize. With his white knight complex, he did everything to make sure she was safe. Though he did genuinely care for her, that night opened the curtains on why he had to hang up the knight armor.
Skylar was the assistant team leader of the second shift staff team in a residential child care facility specializing in the treatment of adolescents in secure care. TASC was a place for a wide range of backgrounds. It was a last resort before a child was sent to a detention facility. It served as housing for children who endured great amounts of trauma and was too unsafe to be in the open and unlocked community of the cottage program. It was a program for teenagers who were on probation from convictions in the outs and within the system. Kids with cognitive disabilities also turn up in TASC frequently.
There were kids from sexually, mentally, emotionally and physically abusive homes. There is even a specific program for young girls who were involved in the sex slave trade and prostitution. The young boys and girls you ran into there had drug addictions. They were a mix of thieves, manipulators, sexual offenders, those who self-harm on a consistent basis, those who have assaulted others in a high degree, those who weren’t meant to be there, and especially kids who were victims of the cycle of abuse. The cycle of abuse was especially present in the party that night.
To say the least, the work was stressful, dangerous and heart breaking. You could not enter TASC under the assumption you will never be assaulted. These kids were always at a baseline of relying on using the survival hemisphere of their brain. When the team let off steam, it was with alcohol.
Skylar and this young man became best friends only a few months earlier when they “ran” from the cops after driving down the wrong way on a one-way street. A long story he loves to tell. Disappointing to him for a while, Skylar was dating a young woman named McKenzie. One of his oldest friends in Muncie was dating McKenzie’s best friend, Amanda. In the past, he had never heard any good things about McKenzie. She had a temper, was arrogant, and on occasion had been known to throw fists. He was an expert on the type because once upon a time, he was exactly the type. He never threw fists but he did speak in a dishonest and selfish tone. After his first unhealthy relationship, he discovered he had anger issues mixing with one hell of a childhood. It took him years to start facing those demons. When he did, he made a promise to himself. He was never going to let his childhood control his anger like on another human being which is why he started noticing the girlfriend.
It started out slowly. McKenzie constantly had eyes on Skylar. Skylar is beautiful with a sense of humor that is the right amount of sassy with the right amount of bitchy. Many people had eyes on her. It was just sitting with the boy the wrong way.
The house was in the Southside of Muncie. It smelled of Bud Light, cigarettes and cheap gas station liquor. Though that wasn’t new to the boy. What was knew was being outside the familiarity of the university neighborhoods. There were three condemned houses on the adjacent street, pot holes that could swallow your car, a random assortment of gun shells, sharp objects, liquor bottles, needles, trash, and cigarette butts lining the streets. The house on the next block was robbed and CPS was visiting the house in the neighborhood over.
It was almost one year ago, the Wal-Mart up the street from Skylar’s house found a man who set up a small meth lab in the men’s restroom. This was barely surprising though as poverty struck the once vibrant city. There is a reason Indiana was voted one of the unhappiest states to live in.
He was playing beer pong with a few of his co-workers when he remembered the story the girl was trying to defend that month. McKenzie had gone off in a violent argument which broke Skylar’s TV. While intoxicated, Skylar mentioned she felt unsafe when it happened. She further explained that it was okay because it was her fault. She was being a “bitch” anyway.
His coworkers kicked him out of the game and the guy sat on the couch next to the other losers. He noticed the girl was holding onto her phone tightly. He remembered another event. It was the first night they met outside of work. It also was the same party they ran from the cops. Before that had all taken place, he saw the girlfriends name on her phone. McKenzie was calling every two minutes. He took the phone jokingly from her and she drunkenly stumbled to hold on to even though she was borderline blacked out. The memory threw him off again. He’s on edge.
The behaviors grew more intense as the night passed. McKenzie was watching Skylar’s every move. Where ever Skylar went, McKenzie was within eye sight. McKenzie was seated on the couch next to the coffee table with her cigarettes and was in perfect eyesight of Skylar. Not too soon after, Skylar walked into the living room to tell McKenzie to take the cigarette outside. She had a rule that no one could smoke in the house.
McKenzie stood up, forcefully grabbed Skylar’s arm and headed into the kitchen. She wasn’t going to leave the house and then began asking Skylar for her phone. An argument followed and Skylar gave her phone to the boy. As he grabbed the phone, he understood this was the moment he was sure something was going to erupt. Something needed to happen, quickly.
He had another moment of memory about previous signs. Earlier in the week Skylar forgot the passcode to her phone. When she called McKenzie to tell her why she could not text back, she was met with anger and accusations. McKenzie was angry that she would even change it in the first place. Did it mean that she didn’t trust McKenzie? Did it mean she had something to hide?
He was good friends with Skylar’s boss, Sarah, the Team Leader of the Unit. They began to talk about the signs he had been seeing previously and in the evening. They decided to pass it around the house to try and understand what everyone else was seeing.
The boy went out on the porch to do some digging and a smoke. McKenzie and Amanda stepped out. Tension filled the wet spring air. On the outside, it seemed like nothing abnormal. Everyone is out for a smoke.
On the inside, it was much more. McKenzie was probing him for answers to some of her accusations. She believed from the start that he wasn’t there to be friends with her or really the girl for matter. Unknowingly the boy gave her one of the answers she was looking for. McKenzie said, “I’m so glad Skylar is mine. She is so great.” The boy answered with, “You have no idea.” The look on his face read something much more than the sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He finished his cigarette and flicked it over the fence into the neighbor’s yard.
He walked back inside to the party and started a new conversation with more co-workers. McKenzie and Amanda come back inside not too soon after. One of the more extroverted co-workers who didn’t put up with any bullshit began arguing with McKenzie about what song to listen to. Tara had ended up with Skylar’s phone because after so long, she won’t let anyone play anything other than the music she wanted to hear. It went back and forth with McKenzie promising she was going to give it right back. Explaining that she would give it right back. He remembers the exact moment she handed it over. There was no going back now. Whatever was on that phone was the final straw on the bomb that was looming all night.
He stepped out on the porch for a smoke to think about what needed to happen next. McKenzie had gone into the back and the boy knew the girl was in the bedroom. His body was tense and anxious. This easily could turn physical. He swore to the sky and put on his mental shield. Time ran out when McKenzie forcefully pushed her way through the crowd around the stoop. Skylar ran right behind yelling at the top of her lungs. This wasn’t an argument. It was a fight that was abusive, full of intimidation and condescension.
McKenzie yells, “You fucking slut! I knew you were talking to that bitch!”
The neighbors heard it. They came from the adjacent street. Four big men and a woman. The boy walks off the stoop to help. Sarah tries to stop him but he persisted.
“You are a fucking whore!”
“Baby, no! It isn’t like that!”
“Stop fucking lying bitch!”
Many of the neighbors don’t stir. This isn’t the first time.
Amanda tried to stop the boy from coming anywhere near them. She explained to the boy that his happened all the time. “They just had to go through the motions.” “The motions of what? You mean the cycle of abuse?” He exclaimed.
The boy told Skylar it was time to go inside. The neighbors had made it up to the crowd but abruptly turned around when they realized it wasn’t a man threatening Skylar. The Mid-West showed its heteronormativity.
Everyone was on edge. When would the first punch be thrown? By who? To who? He wasn’t going to let McKenzie hurt Skylar. He couldn’t. Skylar was directed back to the porch with the help of more co-workers. Adrenaline was flying through his body. Time was moving faster than he could keep up.
They had all made it back to the stoop. McKenzie was running behind yelling at Skylar to turn around and come back. He knew this all too well. The boy had been on both sides of a situation like this. Something kicked on inside of him and all he knew was he needed to get her back inside. Many times, he tried grabbing her by the waist to get her inside but too many people were on the porch and she was only focused on getting back to McKenzie.
McKenzie made it to Skylar and shoved her back. Anger boiled in his entire body as he stepped in between Skylar and McKenzie. Two other co-workers got Skylar inside. The boy said, “You do not get to touch her.”
“You have no room to be speaking here. Get the fuck out!” He soon realized this was much more than a domestic dispute, it was a warning directed straight at him for messing with her girlfriend. The boy walked into the house to make sure Skylar was safe.
Sarah pulled him aside before he could reach the bedroom and told him to call the police. McKenzie had walked off the porch and was heading to the back porch. He dialed 911 but the call was static. Hanging up, his friend lit him a cigarette. He took a long drag going deep into his lungs. Adrenaline rushed his body. He felt his heart pound inside his chest and his head swims into black abyss. Letting the smoke exit through his nose, his body vibrates and feels euphoric.
He felts a hand on his arm. “Please don’t’ call the cops, Kon.” Skylar’s face was covered in tears. He felt his phone go off in his hands. He clicked the power button and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t imagine in a million years, this was going to be the position he was put in that night. How did he even get here in the first place? Barely three months ago, he was considering moving to North Carolina with his girlfriend and graduated with a degree in Sociology.
He balled his fists. None of this was okay. There was a human out there ready to physically assault another. For most of his life, this boy has been living by solely on survival mode. His main questions were always, “Am I safe? Are you safe? Are we safe?”.
His phone went off again. Looking down, the screen read, “THIS IS DELEWARE CO 911 PLEASE GIVE US INFO WE CAN GET HELP TO YOU WHAT IS YOUR LOCATION”. Quickly, he texted the address.
It was cold outside. The cold spring rain had just finished earlier in the evening and the temperature began to drop. It smelt like cigarettes and the Virginia Bluebells blooming. There were about ten people on and around the front stoop. The air was quiet and you could hear cars passing by in the distance on the wet cement.
Everything that happened felt like ten minutes passed. It all happened in a blink of an eye. McKenzie made it back around to the front porch and saw Skylar on the front stoop. McKenzie pushed her way through the crowd and her hands began to raise.
The boy dropped his cigarette. Closer the hands came to her face. The boy’s hands went directly to Skylar’s waist. McKenzie wrapped her hands around the girl’s neck. Dogs were barking at the house next door. Others dropped their beers. The front door opened. The wind began blowing.
He yelled, “Get the fuck off her!” Everyone began yelling at McKenzie and working to get her off. Alexis grabs Skylar along with him and they pulled her into the house. Our largest team member, in height and muscle, turns around and pushes everyone off the stoop and into the grass. Part of the house’s framing broke off with them and the roof made a loud popping noise.
Skylar, Alexis and the boy fell straight down onto the carpet as the door was immediately locked behind them. Others rushed through the house to lock the other doors and windows.
Skylar’s neck was bright red with scratch marks running down to her collarbone. She was hysterical. He picked her up off the ground and held her in his arms. He could hear yelling outside from multiple different people. It was time to call the cops. Alexis and Sarah helped her into the bedroom and locked the door behind them.
The boy once again stepped out of house to get a hold of the police. There was no way he was going to let McKenzie into the house. No one would. You could hear McKenzie going around the house banging on the windows and trying to kick in the back door. Amanda was furious, covered in grass and the had starts of a shiner.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
McKenzie voice carried into the night, “Let me the fuck inside!”
“We need a patrol car sent. There is a domestic violence situation.”
“We’ve already dispatched a car to your location, please stay on the line. Are there any weapons on the premises?”
“Just knives in the kitchen but the victim is in the house and the girlfriend is outside.”
He heard McKenzie come around the corner. His body immediately tensed up and he slowly put his phone in his jeans. McKenzie immediately came up to the boy and looked him straight in the eye. Tensing up ready for the punch she yells at him to, “Get the fuck out of the way.” She hadn’t yet realized the police were on their way.
“Skylar, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
The staff team knew, though. They also knew McKenzie was going to come after him. They told him to go inside and get the cops here. The boy immediately began to talk to the operator and finished explaining the situation. A patrol car was three minutes out.
He knew Skylar was angry at him for calling. They both knew that there was enough evidence for McKenzie to be arrested. It wasn’t her first time in this situation. There were too many witnesses, the operator heard the conversation, there was evidence of physical abuse. McKenzie was undoubtfully going to jail.
The police car was two minutes out. Sirens were beginning to be heard. It didn’t stir us because police sirens are a normal occurrence. McKenzie kept yelling over and over to come out of the house so she could apologize.
One minute out. Amanda began to pull at McKenzie and suggested that it was time to get out. 30 seconds.
As they begin walking to the car, the patrol car turned the corner. Both tried to get into the car but as the patrol car comes to a stop, they shined their spotlight onto the car. The boy walked out onto the stoop and flagged one of the officers. The boy was stopped and searched as he was explaining he was the one called. The officer began to ask the boy questions about who everyone was. He began to explain the story as the officer across the street was questioning McKenzie and Amanda.
“Where is the victim?” The officer rested his hand on the Taser. In the Midwest, you are only going to come across two types of law enforcement officers. Those who are actively against the LGBT community and those that weren’t. It was a 50/50 call every time someone from the community was in the path of the police. He himself had been harassed by law enforcement for being a transman.
“Inside, follow me.” He said with caution. Walking through a smaller crowd of people, due to a quarter of the staff splitting to avoid the police, they made their way into the house. The girl was locked in a bedroom with three other people. The police walk through the living room and into the bedroom. The girl is in hysterics.
The officers pulled everyone out of the room so they could speak only to Skylar. The rest of the team waited anxiously in the kitchen wondering what the next move was going to be. One at a time, everyone in the house gave their version of what happened. Affidavits were filled out, licenses were copied and pictures were taken.
Skylar didn’t want to press charges.
The officer informed her of all her rights and the State of Indiana acknowledged same-sex domestic violence. The officer dropped his guard and told her that a gay man officiated his wedding and he wasn’t there to hurt her.
Her face was bright red, covered in tears and scratch marks on the side of her neck. The officers explained to Skylar there was enough evidence and witnesses to arrest McKenzie for domestic battery. She was going to be arrested whether she wanted to press charges or not. Skylar broke down and begged them not to. The officer gave a signal and McKenzie was put into handcuffs and taken to Delaware County Jail. What is insane is how much power McKenzie had over Skylar even when she wasn’t around. The boy was going to stay the night at the house on the couch to make sure that she was going to be okay. Amanda, who was still around, looked at Skylar and told her that wouldn’t be a good idea. Just in case she did get out that night.
Reluctantly, he told Skylar to call him if she needed anything. She agreed and he walked out the door debating about staying anyway. But if by some wonder, McKenzie were to get out, him being there would cause a lot of dangerous air.
Upon arriving home, he bolted the door, put the chain on, locked the door knob, put a baseball bat by his air mattress and stared at the door. He sat in his one bedroom apartment on the floor of the living room, smoking a cigarette inside with all the windows open. The scene played relentlessly in his head. He was enraged, confused, overwhelmed, depressed, anxious and thankful all at the same time. His body was safe but his mind was at the party. He was having flashbacks of his childhood and previous relationships. He wasn’t going to sleep that night.
The next morning, Skylar went to go bail McKenzie out of jail. Maybe this girl is so far deep into the cycle of abuse, she can’t see anything else. Maybe the girlfriend truly was sorry and it really won’t happen in the future. No one truly knows what the outcome of all this truly was.
The scary and unfortunate ending to this story isn’t anything new in our society. The cycle of abuse is a force of nature not many can escape. Even if they try, it takes seven or eight occurrences of violence before the victim leaves.
This girl had an entire team ready to save her life in a moment’s notice. Her abusive girlfriend was put behind bars. Humans to confide in and to keep her safe, physically and mentally. Our white night learned one of the most important life lessons. You cannot save others if they are not willing to receive help.
After watching President Obama’s farewell speech, and having a particularly emotionally exhausting day, I forced myself free write about what I had just experienced. I worked from 11 p.m. until 3:30 a.m. This is what came out:
In nine days, President Obama will hand his reign over to President Elect Trump. Which this is the first time I have actually said “President Elect”. I know down at the deep roots of patriotism means I should respect the President of the United States. It is an extremely stressful but high honor job. I just don’t believe that Trump holds that honor as a decent human being should. I know we both have the same end goal. We both want America to be a safer and more prosperous place. We just have two extremely different views of what a safe America looks like. I feel like the future he envisions, makes me fear for my safety and of those around me, as well as on foreign soil.
What I want to say is that before Obama, I was 15 years old. I did not give a shit about politics. I gave a shit about what I was going to wear to the football game later that night. I knew at that point in my life, I was more liberal than many of my counterparts. Growing up in a rich white suburb and a large country city of the Midwest will do that to you.
Many of my friend’s parents were very conservative democrats, many Republicans. Friends in college who had the gay friends (I was always the token trans guy) and believed in marriage equality but watched Fox News and got white trashed drunk on the Indy 500 field.
Remembering, not too long ago, I felt like an outcast in the cities I grew up in. Muncie and Avon shaped my life growing up and entering adulthood. I feel very connected to people who understand what I am talking about. Indiana is its own world. Regardless of who we are, we all see each other the same, “A Hoosier”. We all take that to heart. Waking up on an Indiana summer morning with the breeze blowing through your coffee mug on the front porch or lying in bed with your girlfriend watching the landscape (which is mostly corn) turn into a Winter Wonderland. The summer nights that seem like it will never end, in a good way. I always tell my Seattleite friends that I always felt inspired and full of adventure on those nights with bonfires and Bud Light. But also, that they would cry and lose all sense of will at the fact it is -15 degrees outside, covered in a foot of snow mixing with ice and yes, your boss still needs you to come to work.
Growing up in the Midwest gave me a sense of belonging that I did not have before. However, that came at a very harsh price. I was the token Lesbian. Then I was the token Trans friend. It’s never, “hey meet this guy Konner,” it’s, “hey meet my friend Konner. He is trans”. Someone once told me that they were excited to be my friend because they had never had a trans friend before. Another one asked if, now that I’m trans, I can only date lesbians. I’ve been told that I was too pretty to be a man. That I’m going through a phase. Or that everything that I do is solely because I do not have a penis.
At my last job, I had someone out me and my kids retaliated. I was physically and emotionally assaulted by four kids. The leaders decided that they needed to debrief with the kids about the fact I was trans, without my permission. That everything I did was based on the fact I was taking Testosterone. I was some precious jewel. I felt like I was held to a higher standard and was talked about based on my gender orientation. I had a therapist (not the amazing therapists at my last job but my personal therapist) who wanted to use me as the token trans guy in therapy by asking me to go in front of his class and give my perspective on the trans experience. Which is absolutely illegal and I in no way am the only voice of the trans community. In all reality, I am a baby transman. I have so much to learn about this community and I have been a part of it for in a sense, my whole life.
Though, I must remind people that not everyone was like this in the Midwest. I absolutely had people in my life that saw me as a person and based me on my merit as a human being. I am good friends with a great many of them. It’s just the thing is, when I moved to Seattle, that was the standard of everyone I have encountered. There aren’t just a group of people like that, everyone is like that. No one seems to understand that there is a world where I am still seen as a second-class citizen. Human rights come like second nature here. The company I work for, makes it a priority for me to feel safe and comfortable in my workplace, because why the fuck shouldn’t they? It is no contest.
Wrapping it back around, under the President Obama Administration, as I have come to grow up, made it easier to learn the lessons I needed to while he provided a stable economy, a safe space and loving environment to do that growing. In all honesty, he felt like a father figure to me and I am sure that it is true of many of the people around me. In times of adversity, I could look up and be reminded that the leader of this country is a good and honest man. A man who cares not only about the lives of his family but those of the American Citizens. No matter who you were, a left wing-liberal who has seven global warming stickers on the back of their car to the redneck with seven gun quotes on the back of their pickup. He cared about the immigrants, the Native American population, the minorities, the “second class citizens”, the military and their families, the black, the white, the Jew, the Protestant, the underdog and the kids, even animals. Every time I saw him deliver a speech, I was wrapped into his kind words. I could sit there and remember that there are awful people in the world but this man is leading with kindness and dignity.
This man knew, just as I, that we all are trying to do the same thing. Keep our loved ones safe. Everyone deserves a chance at living, no matter where you come from. Fathers are strong and gentle, they protect their kids, they provide and teach and hold his family as the highest honor of his life. I mean have you looked at how Obama looks at Michelle and the kids and Joe? It makes you want to cry.
Michelle fostered a sense of belonging. She helped me remember to be warm and kind to everyone you meet. To always help those in need. She taught me about elegance and grace and grit and dignity. They are the power couple. All the #relationshipgoals. Speaking for myself, every time I watched their videos, I felt like they were there to give you a kiss on the forehead and send you out in the world to make an impact. To support you in all that you do. That you are smart and capable and deserving.
Under the Obama Administration, I have seen marriage become legal, I’ve seen greater spotlight in the World of Politics when it comes to Trans related issues. I could go to school and get a degree because both of my parents have good jobs and provide for me. I have affordable health care that takes care of as my mom would call it, “My man doctor” bills. I felt like I was coming into a world worth fighting in.
And then two years ago, the Trump Campaign came to light. We laughed. We joked. That we would never be that silly. In nine days, we are going to live in a very different world. The jokes came true. We have elected a potentially life threatening man, a very unstable and inexperienced man. A man who gets into fights on Twitter because someone called him out on his bullshit. He has made stock markets plummet. People fear for their safety. I had a kid I work with, ask my coworker if he thought Trump was going to send his parents back to their home country. That because his skin is a different color, he is going to kicked out of his country. No eight-year-old should ever be afraid of that. I have friends who are afraid of their future, who are getting married because it may be revoked and women I know who are honestly afraid of what their healthcare is going to look like. Our rights as human beings are being infringed upon by the leader of the free world. If that doesn’t scare you, if knowing that other human’s rights are being stepped on to lift your giant ego higher, I don’t know what will.
I know that this is only my opinion. That my view may not be of yours. I know many don’t agree. But that’s how we were raised. It’s the diversity that keeps this democracy running. We will never be able to prosper without diversity. It simply isn’t possible.
President Obama. I remember watching of his speeches. My mom and I were in my living room of my childhood home. We both knew at the time I was a lesbian but neither of us were going to say anything. But we both knew, on that night, we were watching a leader that was going to change that. I remember my mom and I standing up and down and clapping at everything that he said. His words rung in my ears, “Every single American — gay, straight, lesbian, bisexual, transgender — every single American deserves to be treated equally in the eyes of the law and in the eyes of our society. It’s a pretty simple proposition.” I remember exactly where I was when DADT and DOMA were ended. I felt safe under his administration and I became interested in politics again because his legacy wasn’t about causing 9/11 or Watergate or Monica Lewinski. He doesn’t mock disabled reporters or take away the rights of women. He brought together human beings of all backgrounds, ethnicities, religions and countries. I believe in that with my whole heart.
The leader of my world now, doesn’t believe in that. I can honestly say with absolute confidence; the structure of America is about to go through a major shift. I don’t think I am the only one who is going to move forward while keeping an eye on my back. I reminded that the people I met along the way in the Midwest, either from harassment or bullying, ignorance or the lack of a good education. I’m reminded they now have a leader that gives them permission to let that behavior keep happening. It’s just in the words of the greatest President I have ever witnessed and learned about, “We the People, we shall overcome. Yes, we can.”
I had a parent once ask me, “When exactly did you know you wanted to work with kids?” I was up in the activity room at a secure facility for the treatment of adolescents. I was supervising a visit between my kid and their parent. My kid had been talking about England and how she wanted to move there when she grew up. I had to have my input because I spent half of a year there during college. London was and will always be my favorite city in the world. I just knew the reality of today’s world, of her world and mine. I spoke to her in a way that was hopeful and full of positive feedback, I spoke to her in her language. She had to get her ass out of lock up in order to be successful, let alone, move to a foreign country. Then, in true fashion of my approach with kids, I threw in the humor. I asked her what the Loch Ness monster ate? Fish and Ships. She didn’t know that so obviously, she wasn’t ready to move to a foreign country. The mom looked at me with the eyes of, “Why the fuck are you so weird?” Though she translated it by asking me. “When exactly did you know you wanted to work with kids? I told her I had no idea. I just have always loved kids. Which is true. I was working with kids as a kid. It was my life. I had never thought about it. But I had, I remember the exact moment.
*The names and places of the actual participants and locations have been changed because…obviously.*
When: June 2012
Where: Grey Woods in Southern Indiana
Why: My ex-girlfriend, at the time, invited me out to the camp she worked at for the summer. The camp was called Grey Forrest. The same camp in which my mother was the Head Nurse that ran the nursing program. Every nurse that worked there was my mother’s subordinate. All the resources that they needed, were allocated from her.
I was (in)famous for four things. Soon to be five. One was the fact my mother ran the program and the next is this story. But I am getting too far ahead.
Week One of Camp House. I probably woke up like I always did at that camp. Nervous, anxious, in dire need of coffee. This camp was, in many ways, a very traditional and typical summer camp. Jeeping in the backwoods, kayaking on the lake, fishing, bonfires and bugs. Bugs everywhere. Camp songs were huge and so was every person’s heart that worked there. The only thing that was different, is these campers were patients at House Children’s Hospital.
The hospital is practically owned by my mother, nowadays, as the Chief Nursing Officer. Back in these days though, my mom was just Camp House’s Nursing Director as well as the Manager of the Heart Unit. Every single nurse there knew exactly who I was. My mother was famous. Everyone loved her and everyone had very high expectations of me. My ex-girlfriend also spoke about me quite often. This morning though, no one knew exactly who I was. I was volunteering for a week to get out of my parent’s house that summer.
6 a.m. It was hot. Over 70 degrees in the early hours.
It was a scorching summer that year. There were ever only two options in that weather. Miss out on the precious six hours of sleep you were lucky to have and shower (we were blessed with AC), or just wait until you got to the pool or lake and call it a day because you were only going to get sweaty anyway. Needless to say, we all smelled a little bit.
6:10 a.m. I was always drawn to stepping outside before starting the 16-18-hour day.
Indiana has some of the best summers. It is something that I will always hold as an important part of growing up in Indiana. You could hear the cicadas already. Loud buggers. This morning though, there was fog and the air was damp and heavy. The sky was pink, yellow and blue. You could smell the woods. The oak and maple trees. The moss on the ground. Everything covered in bug spray and sunscreen. You could hear the squirrels rustling in the trees. It smelled fresh and full of life. Your body encased in the morning dew. The sun peaking through the trees. Anything is possible on an Indiana summer morning.
6:30 a.m. The six or seven staff we had tended to the eight or nine campers. This week was House One. A camp designed for a 1:1 ratio. Diagnosis ran from Spina Bifida, Muscular Dystrophy, Brittle Bone Disease, Mitochondrial Disease, the list goes on. The kid I was partially in charge of, was named Dominic. He had to be no more than 9 or 10. He had cerebral palsy. Limited communication. He was unable to perform any daily living skills on his own and had a very low range of motion. We were his team. We were there to make that day the best day in his life.
7:45 a.m. Breakfast in the cabin. It only happened once a week. Boxed cereal, bagels, fruit, and juice. Getting the kids fed was our priority. Afterwards I always ate three bagels and a bowl of cereal. Fiber man. We burned an insane number of calories through the day, especially since today was Challenge Day. It was one of the most magical days of the week. We weren’t allowed to say no to our campers.
Whatever they wanted to do that day, we were there to make it happen. They were challenged to push their bodies to the limit, to do something people have told them no or something they have always wanted to do but were afraid they couldn’t. If they wanted to climb Cardio Hill (a hill that went virtually straight up for what felt like a half mile), we climbed it. If they wanted to swim across the lake, we swam it even if their range of motion was zero, we made it happen. They wanted to blow bubbles until they couldn’t anymore? Done. They wanted to build the biggest sand castle? Where’s the water? If they wanted to paint a picture of their favorite character or see how far their wheel chair could recline, we made it happen. Period. Dominic wanted to go to the pool. I put on my swim trunks. (Because I was a butch lesbian in these days. God bless my TRANSformation).
9:00 a.m. Myself and a few other staff went out with our kids. We first went to the sports arena to play with bubbles. That was a goal of one of our other boys. I first noticed things go south with Dominic during this time. Throughout the week, I learned that Dominic was very visually perceptive. He dug bubbles. Just not today.
10:00 a.m. The sun continued to get hotter. It had to be past 80 by that point. We all tried to stay hydrated as best we could but it seemed as soon as we drank a bottle of water, it was already on its way out. Next thing I remember, we are on our way to the pool.
11:00 a.m. We jumped into the pool at first to see if the cold would help improve his mood. It didn’t change. Dominic can’t stop crying. He normally cried but nothing like this. Something was wrong and I knew it. Many others thought it was just the heat. Another Cabin Head told me to take him back to the cabin. I wanted to take him to the nursing office. When she told me no, I overrode her, as a volunteer. Not my best move. I tend to have poor boundaries with authority. They either become my best friends or I completely disregard what they tell me. I also tend to fall for ladies who are authority figures. I digress.
11:15 a.m. I dipped Dominic ’s blanket in the pool, wrapped it around his neck and arms and headed to the nurse’s station. It was one of the few places on campus with AC. Even if I was wrong, we could at least cool off.
We walk inside and I grab one of the nurses. This was an all hands-on camp. The staff were trained in advance first aid, CPR, how to use C-Pap machines, how to work with colostomy bags and how to do feedings. I had no real training at that point.
She taught me how to use and set up a G-tube (basically a feeding tube). I gave him two bottles of Gatorade in the lobby. We sat under the AC and I talked to him about the weather. Though he may have been crying at my awful stories, I’m almost certain he was crying because this wasn’t working.
11:45 a.m. Nurse comes back. She takes his temperature. 100.9. We put cold rags on his forehead, neck, wrists and feet. We had to cool him down.
12:00 p.m. Dominic fell asleep on the bed we were sent to in a dark, quiet room while we listened to Jack Johnson on Pandora. I think he really liked it. It kept him calm and sleeping.
1:30 p.m. He had been asleep for a solid hour and thirty minutes. Lunch had come and pass. On a selfish note, it was great to be able to spend 1:1 time with a camper away from the crowd. I also could have been happy for the break away from the outdoors. It was enjoyable too after spending at least 9 hours a day outside.
1:45 p.m. He is slowly waking up. The poor kid still looked overheated.
1:55 p.m. He starts whaling. This wasn’t an I’m bored help me cry, this was a, something is wrong please help me cry. (You become fluent in a lot of different languages at this camp). The nurses came in and found me sitting next to him on the bed continually soaking the rags. They recommended an IV, called House Children’s and brought in extra nurses.
1:00 p.m. I sit behind Dominic and hold him up and steady. Tears are streaming down his face, I think I was having a panic attack but had to keep it all on the inside. The next thing I know, Dominic is throwing up on me. Unquestionably a panic attack.
The nurses begin an IV. They tried to stick on the inside of his arm. No luck. They use the back up and try a stick in his hand, no luck. They use the back up’s back up because at this point, I’m covered in throw up, sweat, blood (from him ripping the line out), and tears. Two of those were doubled from me.
1:10 p.m. They stick a needle into his foot. Success. This kid sucked down an entire bag of IV in a little over a half hour. They hooked up another. He was severely dehydrated.
1:15 p.m. They called House Children’s to get permission to bring him in. House sent an ambulance. I stayed with him through the entire thing, even after they sent switch outs for me. I started this, I had to finish.
3:00 p.m. I’m exhausted. I’m still holding him tight so he wouldn’t rip out his IV. The ambulance finally came and they took him away.
3:05 p.m. Walking back through I ran into one of the nurses that I greatly admired. She looked at me and told me that that was badass and patted me on the shoulder. It was one of the cooler moments at nineteen years old. At that point in my life I wanted to work in the health industry. My high school practically prepped me for it. Having a role model that complimented me for something I wanted to do, it was so cool. But I had become undecided though the moment I jumped up on the bed with Dominic that day.
3:30 p.m. I became dizzy and ran off back to my cabin.
3:40 p.m. I’m pacing back and forth in the cabin, “Was this my fault?” “Did I neglect a kid?” “My life is probably over.” “My mother is going to kill me. I ruined her reputation.” “My life is definitely over.”
I sat down on the back porch.
4:00 p.m. The higher ups sent my ex. Or at least, that is what I remember, she might have texted me. She looked at me and told me I saved a life. I did nothing wrong. I didn’t believe her but it calmed my nerves. She always knew how to do that. Which also was the epitome of our relationship. We worked well and could put a band aid on the problems. We never fixed the root cause of the problem.
5:30 p.m. My cabin head told me the higher ups were talking about it and to get over it, I was going to be fine. Something was brewing in the office.
The day went hour by hour from that point on. I could see people talking. I knew they were talking about me. We all ate dinner, had our last night camp fire. They were all talking.
By 11 p.m. every kid was in bed and settled. Our staff notes and meeting were over. The Cabin Heads all went to their CHIP meeting and two more staff were sleeping with the kids in their side of the cabin. I had a few moments in bed to myself before the sleep took over. You could hear the primary watch staff continually through the night helping the kids. Our work never stopped.
6:00 a.m. the next morning. It was the same type of morning, I woke up tired, nervous, anxious and in dire need of coffee. The air was clean and crisp. The parents were flooding into the camp. We woke up, went to breakfast, and sent our kids off back into the real world. One week always passed like a blink of an eye.
2:00 p.m. It was the end of the day and we began prepping the close of the camp for 36 hours. We sent off the kids, cleaned the cabin, cleaned the property and the offices, and sat down in the breezeway for closing meeting.
My head was in a million different places. I saw my ex for the first time since we had broken up. There was a really cute girl who worked as a lifeguard. I may have let my kid get severely hydrated. I didn’t want to go back to college but I didn’t want to be home. What was my life? I was tuning out of the closing meeting but our boss drew me back in.
“If those of you recall, there was an ambulance yesterday on campus.” Shit. This was it. I’ll be publicly humiliated. I can never come back.
She went on. “Dominic went to the hospital yesterday and was diagnosed with pneumonia. He had a fever of 101 and being in the heat that day only dehydrated him more. Nothing anyone could have done would have stopped this from happening. Be proud of the work you do here.”
3:30 p.m. It wasn’t my fault.
His dad had sent an email explaining that even if this were to happen again next year, he would send him every year because the smile on his face was worth it all. That he would rave to the people he loved about how his kid was taken care of by staff. Not just watched for a week.
3:45 p.m. My boss looked at me, pulled me aside and offered me a job.
Of course, I told her I had to think about it because I couldn’t look desperate and my ex still did work there. It is an extremely personable environment. Even if we weren’t going to date again (which we were spoiler alert) I would have to see her every day for two more months. I called my best friend at the time, who told me if I didn’t take it, I would be a fucking idiot. I called my mother. She also called me a fucking idiot. I walked back inside and sat down at a table full of the people I would create special bonds with that summer.
It was at 4:00 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, in the middle of June, in a small southern Indiana town, that I sat down at a table and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to be with kids at their highest moment of need. I wanted to save lives. I wanted to make a difference. This kid forever changed the course of my life.
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The Secret Diary of a Transman 