While Lawmakers Debate My Child’s Rights, I’m Teaching Him To Live Joyfully

I grew up queer in a red state when gay marriage was illegal. Now, I’m raising my kids in a blue city on the West Coast. Four years ago, when my oldest child came out as transgender, my first reaction was relief that we lived in a supportive environment. Then I felt a pang of fear.

I wasn’t worried about parenting a trans child. I was afraid on my kid’s behalf. I wanted to protect him from a world that so often struggles to accept him.

In the last six months, those fears have become an even harsher reality than I imagined with the onslaught of health care-limiting laws and executive orders that seek to withhold rights and radically redefine language, eliminating trans identities.

My son is almost 16 now, and he has three friends whose families fled their homes in Texas and Florida to relocate to our state, which still protects gender-affirming care. Having them here has reminded us of the profound privilege our family is experiencing, as we’ve been able to maintain our roots. Still, when I asked my son and his friends what story about trans people was missing from the news, they said, “Sometimes we’re scared, but mostly, we’re just trying to have fun and get through the day like anyone else.”

I recall my own teen years, when gay and queer folks spent so much energy trying to convince our straight, conservative peers that our lives were more similar to theirs than different. Now, legal and societal changes have created a level of scrutiny that makes it hard for transgender folks to just be.

My family is lucky that life hasn’t changed that much since January. We work and go to school, play board games, share funny videos of our rescue pug, and are planning our annual Disneyland vacation. I’m in contact with several families like mine living across the country in supportive communities, and they all express the same sentiment.

“We surround ourselves with people we love and go about our day, ignoring the rest,” Amy, the parent of a trans teen in Arizona, tells me.

To understand how folks are nourishing themselves in less-accepting environments, I talked to three trans women who live, more or less, in the spotlight, and who focus on joy and connection as subtle acts of resistance.

Music has long been a way to empower and connect with people across the sociopolitical spectrum. BeBe Deluxe, a singer and DJ in Florida who infuses her performance with both advocacy and humor, has been focused on supporting her communities. And it’s not always easy. One incident that stands out to her was a LGBTQ+ prom for teens that Deluxe was set to host that got canceled due to a huge conservative backlash.

“It doesn’t matter what I offer, there’ll be at least one person who will have a problem with the fact that I’m trans. But that person hasn’t met me face-to-face. They don’t realize I’m just a person, a big clown,” Deluxe, who’s a pro at infusing levity into tense situations, tells me.

Once, when a group of Catholic protesters gathered outside of one of her drag shows, she defused the tension immediately. “You walk up to them, and you look at their statue of Mary and say, Oh I LOVE her dress, and they are so into it,” she says. “They’re smiling. They’re uncomfortable, but they’re smiling.”

While playing the class clown to deflect homophobia requires emotional labor and the constant burden of “being the bigger person,” it is a tool that I know my child can benefit from having. And protecting our joy might require a different approach on any given day.

Also in Florida, Ashley T. Brundage, the founder and president of Empowering Differences, a leadership training organization, ran for state office in 2024. She’s had to constantly reframe the increased attention, both positive and negative, toward her specifically (and trans people in general).

“I could focus on the negativity. I’ve been attacked. I’ve been sexually assaulted, but it’s much easier to think about all the positive parts of my life,” she says. “People didn’t expect me to be the one getting an award from Ron DeSantis. Then I was the first trans person to win an election in Florida of any kind. But maybe I’m just a badass, and I also happen to be trans.”

Brundage also describes how her two children campaigned for her during the election, strengthening their bond. “I know my kids love the hell out of me, that they’d be there for me no matter what. My family is what makes this all worth it.”

From just this era in her life, I’ve observed that resilience is a muscle you can tone. I want to emphasize to my kid — and every other trans kid — that your aspirations don’t need to be curtailed because of the haters. Establish your community, support each other and move steadfastly toward your goals.

Amethysta Herrick is transgender scientist and author based in Colorado, and runs a weekly YouTube series on transgender joy, sharing positive news and anecdotes every Friday to connect and lift her community. She explains that “gender and identity are typical human pursuits,” but if you don’t see trans people as part of a norm, witnessing their happiness can help that shift.

“Seeing others experience success or joy can give you hope,” Herrick says. “Representation is important because it can show us what we are capable of. When we really do express ourselves in alignment with our core values, it can be euphoric.”

Brundage, Deluxe and Herrick have stepped into public spaces, centering their lives around work that they enjoy. Their lives shouldn’t seem extraordinary, but when we obsessively analyze a community publicly, it sets the people in that community apart from an imagined idea of “the rest of us,” creating an environment where the simple act of living their lives and doing things they like seems subversive.

“Trans people having fun, building friendships, and living their lives shouldn’t have to be revolutionary,” says Rebecca Minor, author of “Raising Trans Kids.” “When most narratives in the media are framed around tragedy or overcoming adversity, it sends the message that trans existence is either a struggle or spectacle — something to pity or celebrate.” This, Minor adds, implies that trans people are a monolith and erases the everyday moments of love, creativity and connection.

“The current administration’s legislative attacks aren’t just about policy — they’re about creating a culture where trans people are seen as inherently controversial,” she says.

Right now, when so many of us are filled with fear, tracking routes to joy can help balance the narrative and normalize the experience of actually being trans.

Mapping Trans Joy is a trans-run, joy-as-resistance project that began in Louisiana in 2022 and has since expanded globally. Sophie (who goes by their first name only), who spoke to me on behalf of the project, says, “For us, joy is resistance because it’s life-affirming at a time that so much of transness is demonized. Trans stories, insofar as they’ve existed at all, have long focused on struggle and sadness, resource-lack and despair. We acknowledge these can be elements of a trans existence, but are not the full story. The narratives of joy that we collect resist these one-dimensional representations of transness.”

Acknowledging authentic happiness doesn’t diminish or invalidate other responses to the dangerous political environment transgender individuals face, and it’s not about ignoring critical injustices for the sake of toxic positivity. Authentic delight is just an option.

I want to live in a country where my kids feel welcome and supported, regardless of their gender identity or performance. But until that happens, my kids constantly remind me not to get bogged down in fear, that delight or empowerment are possible.

“The trick might be staying small, focusing on our neighbors, making real connections and showing people our values,” Brundage says.

“Focusing on joy can help create a reality that anyone can feel invited into,” says Herrick.

And for a more whimsical take, Deluxe offers Bugs Bunny as an example of what it looks like to show up with gleeful authenticity.

Bugs lives in a world where it is legal to kill rabbits, she reminds me. “Often when just existing, Bugs is confronted with people who want to kill him only because they are allowed to…He’s dealing with this constant, present danger.”

Deluxe adds that it’s so absurd that Bugs decides that he’s just going to have fun with it. “If you put on a good show for yourself, you can walk right up to your oppressor in your best drag and kiss them in the face.”