How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by C. Sprite

 

Chapter Twenty

 

On Monday morning I was still unsure about things, but I had decided to go to school as half Michelle and half Jimmy. Talk about cross-dressing.

I removed the breast forms, and wore a tee shirt and sweater, but I didn't wear the tight undershirt that usually squashed my small breasts almost flat. And instead of my usual baggy jeans, I wore my dancer's belt with a pair of the new, skin-tight jeans. As always when I wore the special undergarment, no hint of maleness disturbed the flat appearance of my lower abdomen. My wide hips provided the proper trapezoid appearance to my crotch that girls are supposed to have when wearing very tight jeans. For shoes I wore the running-style shoes that I had worn for my job as a waitress. They were decidedly more feminine then my usual Nikes.

I spent a lot of time fixing my hair again today, instead of just putting it up in a ponytail, and lightly applied some makeup before putting on my new earrings, a gold chain, two bracelets, and several rings. My purse, containing all of the usual necessary items, went into my backpack.

Standing in front of the mirror before I left my bedroom, I decided that I didn't look as ridiculous as I thought I might without my breast forms, although I considered changing into one of my feminine tops. But today was to be a test, and there would be plenty of days ahead to wear my other clothes, if I decided to continue the experiment.

As I waited for my toast, I took one each of the pills that Suzanne had given me. If everything went well, I would continue taking them for the foreseeable future.

When I boarded the bus, it was with as much trepidation as I had felt when I entered school on Friday, but today I didn't have Jennifer next to me for moral support. The other kids looked at me strangely as I walked down the aisle and took a seat about midway down on the right side. As Jimmy I had always ridden alone so I was prepared for the detachment from the other bus occupants. I certainly wasn't prepared for what happened next. Just two blocks from my stop, a girl boarded the bus and sat down next to me. I recognized her as being a sophomore at the high school.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Lisa. You're Michelle, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." I said, smiling pleasantly.

"I thought so. I was at your house yesterday. I had to bring my dorky little brother around before I could go out with my friends and he kept me running around for two hours."

"I don't remember seeing you. What was your costume?"

"Oh, I didn't come to the door. Candy makes my face break out. I stood on the walk while dork-tot went up and rang the bell, but I saw you in your denim mini-skirt when you gave him the candy bar."

I nodded. "We had a lot of kids stop this year."

"I've seen you around school, but since you're a year ahead of me, we haven't had any classes together."

"I've seen you too, but I didn't know your name. It's nice to meet you, Lisa."

"Me too. I have to tell you how beautiful you looked at the dance."

"Were you there?"

"No, I didn't have a date; my boyfriend is grounded, and I didn't want to go alone. But I saw pictures of you on the stage. Your wedding gown was the most beautiful one I've ever seen. You looked like a princess standing up there."

I smiled again. "Thank you."

"Can I ask a personal question?"

'Here it comes', I thought. "I guess so."

"Why does everyone call you Jimmy? I mean, I know you're not a boy because I always see you sitting with a group of junior girls during lunch, and I've never seen you with any boys."

"My father named me James when I was born. I'm using my middle name now."

"Your father did that to you? Oh, it's like that song, 'A Boy named Sue'. Men can be so cruel. I thought that it might be short for something feminine, but we couldn't imagine what it could be."

"We?"

"Me and my friends. Can I ask another personal question?"

"You want to know why I've decided to use my middle name now?"

"No, I wanted to ask why you've never dressed like a girl at school before, but you do at home. I mean, you're beautiful."

For a new acquaintance, Lisa was asking extremely personal questions, but I knew that if she didn't ask them, others would. She seemed quite gregarious and would probably spread whatever she learned around the school before the end of the day. I wondered if I might be able to use her to spread a little disinformation. Her 'factual' knowledge could give further support to the belief that I was born a girl.

"Until this year," I said, "my body hasn't been anything that anyone would want to admit to owning, so I've kept it covered up. I was way too skinny, and I wasn't exactly proud of the way God had treated me." Everything I said was true.

"And now you've started to blossom. I understand. When my face breaks out, I just want to hide in a corner until it clears up. At least my body developed early, so the boys are distracted from my acne. They're too busy looking at my breasts to notice my face."

"Yes, I enhanced my chest for my Halloween costume and the boys had trouble looking me in the eye, even knowing they weren't real."

"I don’t understand their preoccupation with breasts, but I'm willing to use it to my advantage. Uh, perhaps you should consider using a little enhancement now?"

"Maybe I will in the days ahead," I said. "I've kept my chest concealed up until now, but today I'm letting everyone see the real me. They can either accept it, or ignore it."

As we had talked, the bus had been picking up other kids, and the seats in front of, and behind us, were occupied by girls. Since they weren't talking, I imagined they were straining to hear every word I said.

 

I said goodbye to Lisa when we reached the school, and she hurried off to her homeroom while I walked to mine. As on Friday, kids stared at me as I passed them. Since the beginning of the school term I had always worn a bulky sweater to cover my changing shape, but today I left my sweater in my locker leaving only the thin, black cotton tee shirt to cover my upper torso. My small A cup breasts pushed at the fabric covering my chest, leaving no doubt that they were there, just beneath the cotton. The way the tee shirt hung also highlighted my tiny waist.

No one spoke to me in Homeroom, but I could tell that everyone behind me was staring at my back. Mr. Valentine did a double-take when he spotted me as he came in, and then walked to his desk and took attendance. His eyes lingered on me after putting his list away, and I wondered what he was thinking, but I thought I knew.

Finally, Mr. Valentine said, "Ashley, I'd like to see you in the hall."

I followed him outside.

Turning to me he said, "Jimmy, Halloween is over."

"I know, Mr. Valentine."

"Then why are you still wearing a costume? The School Board only permits that for one day each year."

"I'm not wearing a costume, Mr. Valentine. This is the real me, without the bulky sweater to hide my shape."

"What about the fake breasts?"

"I took off the fake breasts that I used with my costumes. What's left is only me, without any enhancements. I can't take off any more. Would you like to see?" I asked, gripping the tee shirt where it was tucked into my jeans.

He quickly stopped me from lifting my shirt, as I knew he would. We were, after all, standing in the corridor.

"That won’t be necessary," he said. I could sense the discomfort he was feeling.

I smiled, and sweetly said, "Okay, Mr. Valentine."

"Take your seat," he said, gesturing towards the door to the classroom.

The buzz in the room stopped as I entered and all eyes were on me as I took my seat. I imagined that half had probably been fixated on my crotch as I walked to my desk, while the other half was staring at my chest.

The homeroom had never been so quiet as it was until the bell rang, signaling that students should go to their first class. Unlike Friday, when girls had stopped to compliment me on my outfit, no one said a word to me.

The situation remained the same through my first two classes. The students were unsure of what I was, and the teachers were uncomfortable, perhaps afraid to say anything that would infringe on my rights. I imagined that Mr. Valentine had already spread the word in the teacher's lounge, warning them of what to expect.

Between second and third period I ran into MaryAnn and Barbara and stopped to talk. MaryAnn was the first to speak.

"Hi Michelle," she said, "We heard you were in school today instead of Jimmy."

"I've decided to be myself," I said, "and I'm hoping that my friends will accept me as I am."

"So, are you Jimmy, or Michelle?" Barbara asked.

"Michelle to my friends, James to everyone who won't accept me."

I waited tensely while they thought. MaryAnn broke the silence with, "Will you be at the lunch table, Michelle?"

I smiled. "I'll be there, as always."

"We'll see you at lunch, Michelle," Barbara said.

"Okay. Bye."

As we all hurried off to our next classes, I felt a tear run down my cheek. Until then I hadn't known whether or not Jennifer would be my only friend after today.

 

After going through the lunch line, I walked to the table where we always sat and took my regular place. I smiled when everyone greeted me as Michelle, and quickly forgot my earlier fears. As long as I had a core group of friends to support me, I could weather anything else that might be thrown at me. I suppose that I should have expected the girls to support me, since they had never really considered me to be a boy anyway.

After the food was cleared away, I handed my homework around for anyone who needed to make a copy of it. Except for my appearance, things were normal at the lunch table. I participated in a lot of the conversations, and avoided participation in some of the others.

When the lunch period was almost over, we walked to the restrooms. No one questioned me as I entered the girl's room, used the stall to pee, and then fixed my makeup and hair at the mirrors with everyone else. The bell interrupted the conversations and we all left to walk to our next class.

I continued to receive stares as I took my seat in the classroom. I ignored them and let them look all they wanted. I knew that I would have to go through this period of curiosity, and the sooner it was over the better. Mrs. Rico entered the class just as the bell rang, and after taking attendance, called me into the hall.

"James, I was asked to send you to the office as soon as I saw you. You’d better take your books."

"Okay, Mrs. Rico."

I returned to the classroom and got my stuff, while the other kids watched in silence. As I headed to the office, I thought about the summons. I had expected that, at some point, I would be called in to explain myself. This was as good a time as any. I was feeling good after being accepted by my girlfriends. I couldn't have faced this as well, if they had rejected me.

I was told to take a seat when I entered the office and I waited there until the principal, Mrs. Corvaar, sent for me.

"Sit down, Jimmy," she said as I entered the office.

I sat down in one of the chairs that faced her desk from a few feet away.

"You've always been an excellent student, Jimmy."

"Thank you, Mrs. Corvaar. I've worked hard to keep my grades up so I could get into a good college."

"Which shouldn't be a problem, as long as you maintain straight A's" she said, and then paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. "Your costume at the dance was beautiful. I've seen the pictures that the student from the school paper took. And I observed you in the hallways on Friday, in your other Halloween costume. It was also very attractive, and effective."

I could see that she was delicately working her way up to what was on her mind. "Thank you, Mrs. Corvaar."

"Which brings us to today. You seem to have continued your costuming efforts."

"I'm not wearing a costume, Mrs. Corvaar. This is only me in jeans and a tee. I removed the faux breasts that I used on Thursday night and Friday. Beneath my tee shirt, I'm au naturel today."

"Would you mind showing me? You don't have to. The school nurse can perform the exam if you wish."

"I don't mind, Mrs. Corvaar."

I stood up and pulled my tee shirt out of my jeans, then lifted the bottom to my neck. Mrs. Corvaar stared at my chest for a couple of seconds with her mouth agape. Although my breasts were small, the areola was large, not tiny like the ones found on males.

"That's sufficient, Jimmy," she said finally. "I'm satisfied that you're not wearing a costume. Uh, how about down below."

"Beneath my jeans I'm au naturel also. The padding is all me, not some special device. But I'm not prepared to prove that here," I said, as I sat back down.

"Uh, no. That's quite all right. Um, the school records have you listed as a male. And your given and middle names are normally bestowed on male children?"

"My friends call me Michelle now. It's a variation of my legal middle name."

"But you were a male when you entered school?"

"I was classified that way at birth, based on the outward appearance of my genitalia. As should have been obvious to anyone who's seen me in recent years, my body never developed typical male characteristics. My appearance and high voice have always been more characteristic of a female than a male. I haven't fit in very well in the male world, and my friends have always been girls."

"Have you sought medical help?"

I nodded. "Yes, of course. It's been established that a birth defect is responsible for giving me genitalia that indicated I was a male, while producing hormones at puberty that molded my body like that of a female. A few months ago, with the support of my family, and under the supervision of a physician, I began a program that will properly establish my true gender identity. It will take time for the prescribed medication to fully prepare my body before I undergo the operation that will correct the accident from birth."

"I see. The school wasn't advised of this."

"I didn't wish to make it public until I reached a point where I couldn't conceal the changes any more. That time seems to have arrived. The feminine shape of my body can no longer be hidden by bulky clothing."

"Well–– the law does require you to notify the school about your true gender."

"My gender is a bit ambiguous right now. I'm certainly not a male anymore, but my body can't yet be classified as female, although outwardly it mostly appears that way. "

"Until the school nurse certifies that you're a female, you can't use the girl's restrooms."

"What room do I use?"

"You'll have to use the boy's room."

"My girlfriends haven't objected."

"One of the students has filed a complaint."

"Really? Male or female?"

"I can't divulge that information."

"Mrs. Corvaar, I can't use the boy's restroom any more. Can you see me going in there while wearing a skirt or dress? The boys would be just as uncomfortable as the person who complained. At least in the girl's room, the stalls prevent exposure, but the boys use open urinals."

"But you are still classified as a boy in the records."

"You saw my chest. Do I look like a boy to you?"

"It doesn't matter what you look like. The school regulations are very specific. Boys are not permitted in the girl's restroom."

"And if I use the boy's restroom, I'll be subjected to abuse and derision."

Mrs. Corvaar looked at me unsympathetically.

"What's happening to me isn't a prank, Mrs. Corvaar, and I've prepared myself for unexpected and unique situations. My friends and family have accepted my transition, and I'd hoped that the school would be a tenth as considerate of my situation. My change is being medically supervised. By forcing me to use the restrooms of a gender of which I am no longer a member, you are deliberately placing me in a dangerous situation. You and the members of the School Board could be held personally responsible for anything that happens to me."

"Don’t threaten me, young lady," Mrs. Corvaar said angrily. Realizing what she said, she corrected it with, "I mean 'young man.' Until we have restrooms marked Ambiguous, you'll use the restroom that reflects the sex indicated by the official records. And you can call yourself Michelle, or what ever else you wish, but your teachers will be instructed to call you James."

"I didn't threaten you, Mrs. Corvaar. 'Threaten' implies bodily harm. I've only warned you that your capricious decisions might result in serious repercussions in a court of law."

"There is nothing capricious in my determination," she said in a raised voice. "I'm following procedures established by the School Board."

"You have, with your own eyes, seen the evidence that my body is not male. You yourself have called me 'young lady.' And yet you continue to insist that I use the boy's restroom, despite my declared misgivings. If you insist on blowing this matter out of proportion, and involving the school in a lengthy and public legal battle, then so be it. From what I've read on the Internet, there are any number of gay, lesbian and transgendered organizations so anxious for court cases to come along, so they can garner the attention of the national media, that they provide free legal representation for the plaintiff. But I'm sure the School Board will be most understanding towards you when they learn that you could have settled this matter before it got out of hand, created a national scandal, and cost them tens of thousands of dollars, or more, in legal fees and court costs."

Mrs. Corvaar stared at me. My time as a reporter and news anchor had taught me a lot, and I'm sure she wasn't prepared for such a valid and thought provoking onslaught from a high school junior. While in Illinois I had read a number of news stories about transgendered rights issues around the country, and fully intended to use the information I had gleaned from those articles.

The pause gave Mrs. Corvaar time to calm down and collect her thoughts. She knew that gay, lesbian, and transgendered issues had been at the forefront of legal challenges by students around the country in recent years, and she also knew that the school board wouldn’t look favorably upon being dragged into a potentially costly legal action that might reflect poorly on the school district. As the old expression goes, you pick your battles from among the ones you think you can win, and leave the others alone. She knew that this was one she should leave alone.

"Until your official record is amended, or the school board changes the policy, you may not use any of the girl's restrooms. However, you may also not use the boy's restrooms because of your changing condition. There is a restroom, in the basement corridor that leads out to the football field, which I will designate as the Ambiguous Gender restroom. It's kept locked, but you'll receive a key so you can use it instead of the others. Wait in the outer office, and my secretary will get it for you."

I nodded and stood up, sensing that I was being dismissed. I had won a small victory, but it was a very small one. I hadn't wanted to raise the issue any higher than it had to be raised, because from long habit I was still trying to remain as anonymous as possible.

After receiving the key I walked back to my class and took my seat. Mrs. Rico never even paused her lecture while I took my seat.

As I walked to my last class, someone came up behind me and put their hand on my right shoulder. I looked to the right and saw a huge hand covering my shoulder. I realized that the person was on my left, so I turned my head and was surprised to see Billy Thomas there.

"Hi, Michelle."

"Hi, Billy."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Michelle, I've been thinking all weekend about our discussion of the other day."

"Have you?"

"Yes, and I decided I should ask you again in the hope that you'll give me a straight answer. Uh, are you a girl or a boy?"

I stopped walking and turned to face him. "Billy, look at me closely." I turned slowly so he could get a good look. "Do I look like a boy to you?"

Billy looked me over from my running shoes to the top of my head. His eyes paused briefly at my crotch and chest. "Uh-- no, not at all."

"Good, because I'm not a boy." I wasn't lying. I knew that my position on the gender line was now much closer to female than male.

"Then why have you been wearing clothes that made people think you were?"

"The jeans I've been wearing have been women's jeans, Billy. I had to wear them because they're cut very differently from boy's jeans. Tee shirts, sweaters, and sneakers are typically non-gender specific. I can't help what people think."

"But your real name is James, isn't it?"

"That was the name my father gave me at birth. He wanted a son."

"Then you weren't born a boy?"

"Billy, everything that you see today is real. I wore faux breasts to enhance my figure for the costume, because I'm not very well endowed, but what you see now is me."

"Don't worry about not being well endowed, Michelle. I prefer women that aren't overly large. The extra padding gets in the way in sports."

I smiled, turned, and started walking again. Billy fell in next to me.

"But you won the contest at the dance as a boy," he said, still grappling with the issue of my gender.

"If I wasn't wearing the gown, just my normal clothes, and you had to separate the boys and girls, where would you have placed me?"

"Uh, before the dance I would have placed you with the boys. I thought you were a guy."

"I lined up with the guys because that's where everyone would have expected me to line up. I didn't really expect to win. The costumes were a gag."

By now Billy was totally confused, which had been my goal all along, as it had been when I spoke with Lisa on the way to school. I know that I wasn't being honest, but I wasn't being completely dishonest either, and I reasoned that my actions were necessary. By muddying the waters, people would be more receptive to my changing appearance.

"Then Jennifer Crowley is really a guy?"

"Oh, Billy, of course not. She strapped down her breasts with an Ace bandage so she could play the part of my husband, just as I've been hiding my breasts."

We had reached my classroom, and I turned to face him.

"Do you think that you'll be a girl from now on?" Billy asked with an amused expression on his face.

"It's gotten harder and harder to hide the physical evidence," I said. "Since my voice isn't going to change, I'll never have hair on my face, and other parts of me insist on sticking out-- curves you called them, I suppose that I'll have to be a girl from now on."

"Maybe you should change your name? A girl named Jimmy is as bad as a boy named Sue."

"Yes, I've discussed it with my mom. My dad is long gone, having deserted us just like the bastard in the Johnny Cash song. I've got to come up with a good catch line like the song had."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you remember the lyrics from the song. The guy finds his father in a bar and says, 'My name is Sue, how do you do, Now you're gonna die!"

Billy chuckled. "How about, 'My name is Michelle, and I curse you to Hell!'"

"No," I said grinning, "That's good, Billy, but it has to rhyme with James."

"Oh, yeah. Hmm, that's tougher. I'll have to think on it."

Looking up at the clock in the hallway I said, "You'd better think on it in your classroom. The bell's going to ring in– twelve seconds."

He turned and looked up at the clock. "Oh, shit! I'll see you later." He took off running down the hallway and I turned and entered my classroom. I hadn't even reached my chair when the bell sounded. I wondered if Billy had made it to his.

 

Jennifer met me at my locker after my last class.

"How did it go?" she asked anxiously.

"Not too bad. I seem to be the new school freak, though." Changing my voice to sound like a carnival pitchman, I said, "Step right up ladies and gentlemen. It's okay to stare, but don't get too close to the bars."

Jennifer giggled. "Give them a few days to get used to seeing you like this. They're just used to seeing Jimmy in his oversized clothing."

"I guess. Wait until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I just decided I'm going to wear a miniskirt tomorrow. That'll give them something to stare at."

"Yeah, your legs. You've got great legs."

I grinned. "Coming over to my house?"

"I can't. I promised my mom I'd help her in the shop when I got home. She's really backed up. God, I hate sewing."

 

I was already on the bus when Lisa climbed on, and she sat down next to me for the ride home. It was unusual having someone to chat with on the bus.

"Everyone was talking about you today," she said as soon as she had settled into the seat.

"I've stirred up quite a storm since the dance," I said.

"Everyone is trying to decide if you're a boy or a girl."

"Which side is winning?"

"Well, when you unmasked at the dance, after having looked so convincing in a gown, most people thought you might be a girly-man."

"And now?"

"Most people, who have seen you since then, think that you're just a girl with a really odd name."

"I suppose that's an improvement over being a girly-man," I said, smiling.

"If you wear the denim mini-skirt to school, that you wore on Halloween, no one would have any doubts. Your legs are fabulous. My legs are kind of stubby. I'd love to have legs like yours."

"You're still a year younger than me. My legs were stubby also. Our bodies are still changing, remember."

"Yeah, that's what my mom keeps saying. 'Be patient, Lisa. You're getting prettier by the day. Your time will come,' and other stuff like that."

"It's true."

"I know, but I want it now. Look at Marilyn Radowski. She's the same age as me, but she's beautiful. Her skin is perfection itself, and her hair as almost as great as yours. She's like a model."

"You mean she's six feet tall, boney, and living in a state of constant starvation, bulimia, and anxiety?"

Lisa giggled. "No, I mean like what we think of when we see a magazine cover."

"It's all airbrush work, Lisa. After they have the shots they want, they turn the pictures over to the airbrush artists. You wouldn't believe how much work they do with some pictures. It's all an illusion. You're a beautiful girl, Lisa. And you'll get more beautiful with each passing year. Just be a little patient."

She smiled, "Okay, mom. Seriously though, you should wear a few mini-skirts. It will end the speculation when they see your legs."

"I've dressed in jeans and tee shirts for so long that I don’t think the speculation will end before I graduate and move on to college. Thanks for the suggestion, though."

 

During dinner, I told Mom about my day.

"You mean they expect you to run to the basement every time you need to pee?"

"Yeah. If I don't drink anything in the morning, I might be able to get by without using the bathroom until I get home. In an emergency, I have the key to the basement bathroom."

"I have a good mind to go down there and meet with your principal."

"I told her about my body changing and why, but she insists that I can't use the girl's restroom until the records say that I'm a female. I haven't told anyone else. I'm trying to get everyone to think that I've been a girl all along, and this news would destroy that myth."

"I think that your principal is a fool."

"Do you remember what we talked about back in September, about changing our names, legally?"

"Yes, I do. Now that you've made your decision about your gender, we can do that. Have you picked a name?"

"I'd like to become Ashley Michelle James."

"Okay. I thought that might be your choice. It would enable you to use your time at the television station as a reference. I'll change mine from Valerie Christine Ashley to Valerie Christine James."

"How long does it take?"

"I don't know. When I got married, I simply went and changed it everywhere, but I had the marriage certificate. Here, we'll have to go to court, I think, and have a judge change it. I'll find out tomorrow."

"Okay, Mom. Do you think it costs much?"

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'm sure that it's not too expensive, and it'll be worth every penny. Oh, after dinner we should go to the Mall."

"What for?"

"You need a few bras."

"My breasts aren't that big yet, Mom."

"They're big enough to require a little support. I've noticed how they jiggle when you’re working in the kitchen. Your tight undershirts were giving them support, like a sports bra, but if you’re not going to wear them anymore, you need a bra."

"O-kay."

 

I know I didn't become any less of a curiosity during the following days, but with each passing day the kids in my classes began to treat me less like a leper, and most actually talked to me when I said 'hi'. The majority of students now seemed to believe that I was a girl all along, hiding my sex behind unisex type clothes because of a skinny body and a male name imposed on me by a cruel father who had deserted my mother and me when I was small. It's amazing what some people are willing to accept as fact if you just make it wild enough. Everybody is always saying that truth is stranger than fiction. But where my teachers had formerly called me Ashley, they now all called me James, no doubt on specific instruction from Mrs. Corvaar. I had won my point, and not been forced to use the boy's restroom, but she was showing me that she would have the last word. Actually, since I was changing my last name to James, and the teachers normally called everyone by their last names, except in private conferences, it wasn't bad. I wondered what Corvaar would do when she learned that my new last name really was James. She wouldn't want them to call me Ashley. She would most likely simply rescind her instructions.

Two weeks after our discussion about the name change, Mom picked me from school early and we drove to the courthouse for the hearing on having our names changed. Mom's petition was called first and she approached the judge's bench.

You're petitioning the court to change your name from Valerie Christine Ashley to Valerie Christine James. Is that correct?" a bored looking judge asked.

"Yes, your honor," Mom said.

"And the reason for changing your name?" the judge asked, looking up at Mom for the first time.

"My husband deserted my child and me years ago. I no longer wish to have his last name." That was already written on the application. I guess the judge just wanted to hear her say it aloud.

The judge nodded. "Petition approved. You are now legally Valerie Christine James."

"Thank you your honor," Mom said.

The next petition called was mine, and Mom joined me as I walked to the bench. I was wearing a navy blue miniskirt, matching heels, and a white peasant blouse with tiny, embroidered violets. I had worn a skirt to school every day since I told Jennifer that I was going to wear a miniskirt the next day. For my appearance in court, I had made myself look as girly as possible.

"You're petitioning the court to change your name from James Michael Ashley to– Ashley Michelle…" the judge's voice trailed off and he looked up at me for the first time, then back to the document. He had been shuffling papers and hadn't watched me approach. He scanned the paper again, and looked at me once more before saying, "To Ashley Michelle James. Is that correct?"

"Yes, your honor."

The judge looked at me for a few more seconds, while chewing on his lip, before saying, "And the reason for changing your name?"

"My first and middle names don't suit me, and I want my last name to agree with my mother's."

"Are you a male?"

Mom and I had rehearsed my response to this question at home. "I was identified as such at birth, your honor. I'm currently working with medical professionals to have the birth defect correctly diagnosed and my gender properly established."

"I agree that your name doesn't suit you. You certainly don't look very much like a James Michael."

"No, your honor."

The judge looked at the document once more before saying, "You realize that this doesn't change your sex designation. Legally, you'll still be a male. A male named Ashley Michelle James."

"Yes, your honor. I understand. But the name change will help make my life easier until I straighten out god's little prank."

"Very well. Petition approved. You are now legally Ashley Michelle James."

I smiled at the judge and said, "Thank you, your honor."

He nodded without expression, but he took the time to look at my legs. At least I thought he was looking at my legs.

 

The following morning I went to the school office before my first class, and asked to see Principal Corvaar. I was told to have a seat and wait until she was free. I sat there for forty minutes, effectively missing my first class, before being allowed in to see her. No one had gone in or come out and I had begun to wonder if I was kept waiting intentionally.

Once I was in her office I walked to her desk and handed her a notarized copy of the court document that legally changed my name. She read it and looked up at me.

"You are still not to use the girl's restrooms, Mr. Ashley."

I smiled at her. "I understand, Mrs. Corvaar, and I'm abiding by your rules, despite your prejudices. Some things just can't be rushed or I would already have completed my transition. And for the record, my last name is James now, as evidenced by the record you hold in your hands."

"How dare you? I am not prejudiced."

"What do you call it, ma'am? You see that I'm taking the appropriate steps to properly define my gender and, in fact, have traveled a considerable way down that path, but you act like I'm only interested in voyeurism or something."

She scowled and said, "The school records will be amended to reflect your new name. Return to your class."

I smiled and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Corvaar," before turning and leaving. I wasn't going to say or do anything that she could use to expel me or harm my chances for getting into college. The day would come when she no longer held any power over me and then I might tell her exactly what I thought of her.

 

(continued)

  

  

  

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