Melissa

by Alex Gino

Once, George and Rick had been friends, or at least friendly. In second grade, there had been a class checkers tournament, and George and Rick had been the two best players. The final match of the competition had been close, with Rick barely winning after he’d been able to king his final piece. Even though George had lost, the two had still called each other Checkers Champs for weeks. In third grade, Jeff joined the class. Jeff had moved from California and wasn’t happy about it. He started a few fistfights and threatened most of the boys at first, including George. But Jeff settled in by October, and once Jeff and Rick became buddies, Rick wasn’t so friendly with George anymore. By winter break, Jeff and Rick were inseparable, and now it was as if the Checkers Champs were two kids who had known each other once, but had never met either George or Rick.

I just enjoy the writing here. The feeling of two friends growing apart is well-captured, and the final line brings it home.

Living in Shakespeare’s time didn’t sound so bad, even if you had to poop outdoors.

I laughed

“George, whatever it is, you can tell me.” Mom took George’s hand in one of her own, and covered it with the other. “Whatever happens in your life, you can share it, and I will love you. You will always be my little boy, and that will never change. Even when you grow up to be an old man, I will still love you as my son.”

Oof

As the principal spoke, George’s eyes scanned the wall behind her. List upon list of phone numbers and email addresses were taped up to the lower half, interspersed with handwritten notes held up with thumbtacks pressed directly into the wall. Dozens of signs hung above, telling kids to eat right, not to take drugs, to do their homework, and not to be a bully. A sign in the far corner showed a large rainbow flag flying on a black background. Below the flag, the sign said SUPPORT SAFE SPACES FOR GAY, LESBIAN, BISEXUAL, AND TRANSGENDER YOUTH. Reading the word transgender sent a shiver down George’s spine. She wondered where she could find a safe space like that, and if there would be other girls like her there. Maybe they could talk about makeup together. Maybe they could even try some on.

The play passed by quickly, and yet it seemed to George as though she had been onstage since the beginning of time, as if she were born there and had only now found herself where she had always been.

But the world isn’t always good to people who are different. I just don’t want you to make your road any harder than it has to be.” “Trying to be a boy is really hard.”

Q: How do I talk about the main character? A: Call her Melissa. That’s the name she likes. If you slip up and call her George, no big deal. Correct yourself if you think of it, and move on. Same thing for her pronouns. She is always a she. Always. Melissa is a transgender girl. If you are talking with someone who doesn’t know what that means, you can say that she is a girl whom the world sees as a boy, or a girl who was assigned male at birth. You can also say that she is a girl, but she’s the only one who knows it. Notice that all of these say first that she is a girl. Avoid the phrases trapped in or stuck in when talking about trans people. As Janet Mock said, “‘Trapped in the wrong body’ is a convenient, lazy explanation but it fails to describe #trans people and our bodies every time.” I’m not stuck, as if in mud, and my body isn’t wrong. It’s just not what you thought it might be. Phrases like feels like or identifies as aren’t so great either. They sound as though who trans people are is up for debate or discussion. It’s better to say “is.” Generally, if it sounds weird saying it about a cis-gender (nontrans) person, it’s probably not good to say about a trans person. Do you “identify as” your gender? Or is it just who you are? Please be aware that language for trans people is developing and changing as our community grows and matures, questions the ways that we have been talked about, and explores alternatives. And the same words don’t work for everyone. For example...

This is honestly one of the best passages in the book, and now I want to share it with others

Q: I’m so glad I understand transgender people now. A: Okay. This isn’t a question, but I’m adding it here anyway. George is only one story. It is the story of a white, middle-class transgender girl growing up near New York City, written by a white, middle-class genderqueer person who grew up on Staten Island, New York. Every transgender story is different, just as we are all different. Race, money, disability, and other realities further impact these differences. I will add that you don’t need to understand someone to respect them, so while I’m glad you have a greater insight into Melissa’s experience, I hope you also learned from Mom, Kelly, Scott, Jeff, Rick, Ms. Udell, and Ms. Maldonado about how to respond when someone you know tells you that they’re trans, as well as some insight into how the things you say and do might affect someone in your life who you don’t yet know is trans.