Camilo
- Part Two -
The past two years, there’s been this poster hanging up on a billboard on the second floor, right near the eighth graders’ English classroom, promoting our school’s GSA, which, according to said poster, meets up every Tuesday in room 213, right after school.
It’s pretty much the only place I’ve ever seen the group promoted. I don’t know if I’ve ever even heard anyone talk about it.
I’m not sure why exactly, but I feel like I should go. It’s not really like I have much else to do. Maybe I just... want to have a fresh start. After all that has happened.
After school, I shove my books in my locker and head to the second floor. Room 213 is actually on the other end of the hallway from the poster. The meeting is meant to start in just a few minutes, and once I get there, I can already hear faint voices coming from the open door. I don’t immediately step in front of the door frame.
Taking a deep breath, I muster up all my courage before entering the room.
Every single head in the room turns to stare at me—and there are more than I thought there would be. I notice a handful of kids I know look at each other, confused. I feel my face heat up in embarrassment.
“Hey, are you looking for a teacher or something?” someone asks me.
I look down. “I...”
“You’re here for the GSA, right?” a different voice says, cheerfully.
I look back up as a girl with a petite figure stands up from the arrangement of desks placed side by side that they’re all sitting around, and steps in front of me.
My throat closes up. I manage to nod, nervous.
“Awesome,” she says, beaming. “I’m so glad you decided to come, we’re always happy to see new faces around here. Do you wanna take a seat and introduce yourself?”
I clear my throat, trying to calm down, and manage a faint “I guess so, yeah,” in response to which the girl nods, goes and grabs a chair from the back of the classroom, and places it next to hers. While she does so, I examine her a little more.
Her hair just barely reaches the base of her neck. She’s wearing dark thigh highs combined with the school uniform skirt, which looks shorter on her than the dress code would probably like it to be. On the other hand, her school hoodie seems a bit too big for her. Decorating it on her chest are two badges, one representing the rainbow LGBT flag, and the other... I’m not too sure what exactly the flag on it is, but it looks like a different LGBT flag. She’s also wearing a blue and pink choker with a metal heart shape in the middle, as well as dangling blue gummy bear earrings. Her accessories sort of clash with the style of our uniform, but with or without them, she looks cute.
I sit down next to her. She looks around the room, and says: “Okay so, since we have someone new now, let’s all introduce ourselves, okay?” She turns to me. “You wanna go first? You can say your name, pronouns, age or grade, and whether you’re part of the community or an ally. Up to you if you want to reveal what you identify as.”
I swallow and take a deep breath, looking down at my hands resting on my lap. “Um, so my name’s Camilo. I... I use he/him pronouns I guess, I’m seventeen years old. I’m actually... I’m bisexual. I think.” I glance up at the rest of the group. Most of them seem relatively unfazed, but some, my classmates, look kind of surprised.
“It’s nice to meet you, Camilo,” says the girl beside me, still smiling brightly. “I’m the one in charge of the GSA, by the way, in case you hadn’t figured that out on your own. My name’s Corey, I use he/they pronouns, I’m fourteen and in ninth grade. I’m a very gay transgender boy, and well, even though I personally don’t feel it’s my gender identity, I consider myself a femboy.”
“Wait, so you’re a guy?”
I feel all the eyes in the room turn to me. My face heats up. The words had escaped my lips before I could even think about what I was saying. Crap.
Corey is the only one looking at me with significantly less judgment than the rest. “Well, I know I don’t really look the part, but yes, I identify as a boy. I don’t present in a very masculine way, and I wasn’t born male, but I still feel like a guy inside. I’d just ask you to respect my gender identity and pronouns, just out of decency. I don’t blame you if you mess up my pronouns, and it’s fine if you make a genuine mistake the first few times around, but I hope you can accept me nonetheless.”
Corey looks up at me expectantly, smiling softly. Put on the spot like this, I struggle to respond, mumbling a simple “okay, that’s fine.”
“If ever you have any questions at all, about me or any other identities, I’ll be glad to answer them one-on-one, okay?” Corey adds.
Waiting for my nod to continue, Corey asks the rest of the group to present themselves. Even though I originally was under the impression that the room was mostly full of girls, a few of them actually identify as guys, or nonbinary. Most of them, though, end up being bisexual, pansexual, or asexual, but girls nonetheless. There are a handful of normal guys, none of them bi. One says he’s questioning his gender, and the two others are gay. Out of the fifteen people other than me in the room, there are three allies, all girls.
Needless to say, I kind of feel... singled out. I don’t even know some of the identities people were mentioning. Nonbinary? Pansexual? Asexual? All of it makes little sense to me, and yet no one else in the room looks lost whatsoever.
At the same time, I ask myself if I even really care about finding out what it all means. I came here to learn more about myself, and ideally meet people like me; but it isn’t really looking like I can find that here.
After everyone introduces themselves, Corey talks about how the GSA has organised an LGBTQ+ and pronoun pins sale for the school, with the profit made being donated to a local non-profit LGBTQ+ organisation. Since all the planning and pin-making has been done already, and because everyone has been working hard for the past month organising it, Corey proposes that we all take a while to look at the final product, and ideally purchase some too.
On that note, Corey stands up, taking a bag from underneath a nearby desk, and spreads out its contents onto the desks in front of us.
“We made a ton, so I really hope the sale is a success,” says Corey. “If y’all want any, you can just give me the money, okay? Two dollars each.”
The group stands up to look at the pins, while Corey also takes a tray of store-bought cupcakes from a corner in the room and starts offering them to everyone. I back away from the desks and hover around.
“Hey, you want a cupcake?”
I look up to see Corey presenting the plastic tray of mini cupcakes to me.
“Oh, um...” I hesitate. “Sure, I guess I’ll have one.”
“Awesome.” Corey waits as I take one off the tray, before placing the latter onto the nearest desk.
“Hey, um, Corey?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about before. I’m just... not too familiar with everything.”
“Oh, it’s fine, no worries. I totally understand.”
“I don’t wanna make things worse or anything but, I don’t know, I was just kind of confused. About you.”
“You can ask me anything you like, I’d be glad to clarify anything.”
“Yeah, so, um... When you say you’re transgender, you mean you were like, born a girl?”
Corey nods slightly. “Well, yeah, in a way. I would more say I was born female, or with a female body. I was never actually a girl, because in terms of my gender, I’ve always felt like a boy.”
“But… if you feel like a boy—and you want people to see you as a boy—why do you dress like a girl?”
Corey looks down, playing with the sleeves of their hoodie. “I just want to. I like cute things, and I want to look cute. I don’t think there should be any clothes only for girls, or only for boys. I just want to wear whatever I feel like, without it making people call me something I’m not. Obviously, I understand why many people who don’t know me will probably not perceive me as a guy when I dress this way. But I don’t want that to stop me from expressing myself to the fullest. For a long time, I’ve cared more than I think I should have about dressing masculine so that people could see me as a guy. But I’ve realised that I really like expressing my femininity, and I see a bunch of cis guys do it, so I told myself, ‘why can’t I do that, too?’ Y’know?” Corey looks up at me. “Sorry, I kind of went on a rant there. Do you get what I mean?”
“Yeah, I see your point.” I think for a second. “Oh, but, um, what was that word you said? ‘Cis’?”
“Oh, yeah, I mean ‘cisgender’. Like, people who aren’t trans, and who identify with the gender they were assigned at birth.”
“Oh, okay. So like, normal people?”
He frowns. “Ah, well, calling cisgender people ‘normal’ isn’t really viewed as... very nice. In that way, you’re like, calling trans people abnormal, y’know? Like, as if something’s wrong with us.”
“Ah, yeah. That makes sense. Sorry.”
“All good.” Corey sets down the plastic tray on the desk behind us. “Anything else you were confused about?”
“Well, there were a few identities people mentioned that I didn’t get. Like, I think ‘nonbinary’?”
“Oh, well, basically, a nonbinary person is someone who identifies as a gender outside of the binary. Like, not a guy, or a girl.”
“What about asexual?”
“That’s when someone feels very little, or no sexual attraction to anyone. There’s also aromantic, which is the same but for romantic attraction.”
“Okay... And pansexual?”
“That’s when someone is pretty much attracted to all genders, often with zero preference for any of them in particular.”
“Ah, okay.” I think for a moment. “I don’t really get it though. How come there have to be so many identities and labels and whatever?”
“Well, a lot of people feel more comfortable with those labels. I think it’s comforting to know that the way that you feel, the way you express yourself, there’s a word for it and it’s valid. That’s my personal view on it.”
“I see. I guess that makes sense.”
“Mmhmm,” he agrees, biting into a tiny cupcake.
“Also, uh. I was wondering, what’s the deal with pronouns? I mean like, how come people care so much?”
He finishes chewing and swallows before answering. “You mean like, how come some people use certain pronouns rather than others?”
“Yeah, sorta.”
“I mean, some people just kind of vibe a lot more with some pronouns rather than others. Like, I get super uncomfy if I get called ‘she’, but ‘he’ and ‘they’ feel nice to me. Other people just really don’t care. And some other people, they don’t feel ‘she’, ‘he’, or even ‘they’. In that case, there are a lot of neopronouns that exist that are commonly used; well, ‘common’ for being neopronouns, I mean. Like, ‘xe/xem’, ‘ze/zem’, ‘e/em’. They’re sort of very disconnected from the usual ‘he’ and ‘she’. People also can invent their own set of pronouns if they feel like it. So like, yeah. I just think it all depends on which pronouns you vibe with, and which ones you really don’t.”
“But how can you possibly expect most people to get your pronouns right? Like especially when you use ‘they’, or neopronouns. No one’s ever gonna think at first glance that, ‘Oh yeah, that person probably uses ‘ze/zem’ pronouns.’ I don’t get that.”
“Yeah, well, obviously, you can’t expect everyone to get it right without you telling them first. That’s basically why a lot of us in the community want saying your pronouns when you introduce yourself to be normalised, or wearing pronoun pins, or putting pronouns in your bio on social media and stuff.”
“But most people don’t even use ‘they/them’ or whatever. Most people aren’t even transgender. Why can’t we just call someone what they look like?”
“Because, on the off chance that you do mess up someone’s pronouns, it’s not really a pleasant experience, for the person. Like, how would you feel if on a daily basis, everyone, or at least everyone you’re not familiar with, would call you ‘she’?”
“I... I guess that would be annoying.”
“Yeah, and especially for trans people, it can be hurtful and invalidating. So well, I’m obviously not telling you to ask every single person you meet their pronouns, but like, if you’re in doubt, I’d say it’s better to ask than to mess up.”
“Ah, okay.”
“And also like, if ever you do mess up, whether you already know the person’s pronouns or not, it’s not the end of the world, either. The most important thing is to acknowledge what the person’s actual pronouns are, realise you made a mistake, apologise, and move on.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, sorry for the sorta rant again.” Corey takes a second bite out of his cupcake.
“It’s okay.” I smile softly to him. “Thanks, for answering my questions. And sorry for the bother.”
Corey shakes his head vigourously and swallows. “No, no, don’t apologise. Honestly, I really don’t mind all the questions and whatnot. I’m just happy to be able to help people to understand the best they can. ‘Cause like, it’s not the kind of stuff you can ask just anyone in the community. A lot of people might get uncomfortable and stuff. But I’m cool with it. So I’m happy I can be clearing things up rather than you asking someone who might take it badly. And I’m happy you’re willing to learn, and stuff.”
“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t sure about... all this at first, and coming here, but this was nice.”
His face lights up at this. “I’m really glad you think so.”
After that, Corey collects the money from those who wanted pins, and closes the meeting. I quickly approach him once most people are already gone.
“Hey, Corey?”
He turns to me while organising the pins in bags labelled ‘Pronouns’, ‘Attraction’, and ‘Gender Identity’. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“I kind of wanted to ask, uh, do you maybe have Discord?”
His eyes widen slightly, and he nods. “Oh, yeah. You too?”
“Yeah, can I add you on there?”
“Sure, of course, hold on a sec—” he takes out his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. I recognise the character on his lock screen.
“You like Pokémon?” I ask.
“Oh— Hah, yeah, sorta. Just Sylveon, really. Because of the trans colours.”
“Ah, so—” I indicate the pin on his chest that I didn’t understand earlier. “That’s the transgender flag?”
“Yep.” He smiles to me before looking down at his phone. “Okay, sooo... Okay, got it.” He turns the screen to me, showing me his Discord profile. “Here’s my username.”
I take out my phone, open Discord, and send him a friend request. “There.”
I watch as Corey accepts it, looks back up at me, and beams. “Looks like we’re friends now.”
His bright smile kind of makes my heart melt. “Y-yeah, I guess so.”
“I have to go home after this,” he says, finishing up putting away the pins.
“Oh, yeah, me too. Are you taking the bus?”
“Yeah. Not towards the metro, the opposite direction.”
“Oh, cool.”
“How about you?”
“Same.”
He smiles. “Nice. We can head home together then.”