一年級時 我兒子穿上裙子變成了她
When our son turned 6, my husband and I bought him a puppet theater and a chest of dress-up clothes because he liked to put on plays.
兒子滿六歲時，我和丈夫給他買了一個木偶劇院，還有一衣櫃的盛服，因爲他喜歡穿戲裝演戲。
We filled the chest with 20 items from Goodwill, mostly grown-man attire: ties, button-down shirts, a gray pageboy cap and a suit vest.
我們在衣櫃裏裝了20件從Goodwill二手店買回來的的衣服，大都是成年男人的服裝：領帶、領尖帶鈕釦的襯衫、一頂灰色的聽差帽，還有一件馬甲。
But we didn’t want his or his castmates’ creative output to be curtailed by a lack of costume choices, so we also included high heels, a pink straw hat, a dazzling fairy skirt and a sparkly green halter dress.
我們不想他和一起過家家的小夥伴因爲戲服種類不多而限制了自己的創意，於是我們還買了高跟鞋、一頂粉紅色草帽、一條亮閃閃的仙女裙和一條耀眼的綠色露背裙。
He was thrilled with these presents. He put on the sparkly green dress right away.
這些禮物讓他興奮不已，他立刻穿上了那條亮綠的裙子。
In a sense, he never really took it off.
從某種意義上來說，他再也沒有把它脫下來過。
For a while, he wore the dress only when we were at home, and only when we were alone.
有那麼一段時間，他只是在家裏，在我們單獨相處的時候才穿上那條裙子。
He would change back into shorts and a T-shirt if we were running errands or had people coming over.
如果我們要出門辦事，或者有人來家裏拜訪時就換上短褲和T恤。
Then we would come home or our guests would leave, and he would change back to the sparkly green dress, asking me to tie the halter behind his neck and the sash around his waist.
等我們一回家，或者客人一走，他就會換回那條亮閃閃的綠裙子，讓我幫他繫好掛脖吊帶和腰帶。
Eventually he stopped changing out of it.
最後他不再換了。
He wore it to the grocery store and when he had friends over.
去雜貨店買東西、在家裏見朋友的時候，他都穿着它。
He wore it to the park and the lake.
逛公園、去湖邊的時候也穿着它。
He wore shorts for camp and trunks for swimming, but otherwise he was mostly in the dress.
露營時他穿短褲，游泳時他穿泳褲，但其餘大部分時間裏，他都穿着那條裙子。
My husband and I were never of the opinion that girls should not wear pants or climb trees or get dirty, or that boys should not have long hair or play with dolls or like pink, so the dress did not cause us undue alarm or worry.
我和丈夫從來不覺得女孩就不能穿長褲、爬樹，把自己弄得髒兮兮，也不覺得男孩就不能留長髮、玩娃娃，喜歡粉紅色，所以這條裙子並沒讓我們過分警惕或是擔憂。
But school was about to start, and we found ourselves at a crossroads.
但是學校要開學了，我們發現自己置身十字路口。
It seemed reasonable to say: Wear whatever you’re comfortable in to school.
這樣說似乎很合理：穿着讓你覺得舒服的衣服去上學就好。
If that’s what you want to wear, you don’t have to keep changing in and out of it.
如果你想穿這件衣服就用不着換來換去。
But it also seemed reasonable to say: Dresses are for play at home only.
但是這樣說似乎也很合理：裙子是在家裏玩的時候穿的。
The dress is fun, but you can’t wear it to first grade.
這條裙子很好玩，但不能穿着去上一年級。
The former had the advantage of being fair, what we believed, and what would make our child happiest.
前一種說法的優點是公平，我們相信公平，這也是最能讓我們的孩子開心的辦法。
The latter had the advantage of being much less fraught.
後一種說法的優點則是不會帶來太多麻煩。
So we asked him, What do you think you’ll do with your dress when school starts in a couple weeks? We said: You need new clothes for the new school year. What should we buy?
於是我們問他：再過幾個星期就開學了，你打算拿你的裙子怎麼辦？我們還說：開學後你需要新衣服，想讓我們買什麼？
For weeks, he wasn’t sure.
幾個星期裏他都舉棋不定。
And then, on the day before school started, he was.
開學前一天，他拿定了主意。
I later learned that this is remarkably common, that children who make decisions like this often do so as push comes to shove.
我後來才明白，這種情況很常見，孩子們在做這種決定的時候都是到壓力變大時纔會下決心。
They achieve clarity when they are faced with two not-great options.
面對兩個都不怎麼樣的選擇，他們的想法會清晰起來。
Our child could go to school dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and feel wrong and awkward and not himself.
我的孩子可以穿短褲和T恤去上學，然後覺得渾身不對勁、不自在，根本不是他自己。
Or he could wear what felt right and possibly face the wrath of his fellow elementary-school students.
他也可以穿上覺得自在的衣服去上學，但又可能會面對小學同學們的怒氣。
When he woke up on that last day of summer vacation, the first thing he said was that he wanted to wear skirts and dresses to first grade.
暑假最後一天早上，他起牀後第一句話就是說他想穿裙子去上一年級。
O.K., I said, stalling for time, as my brain flooded with all the concerns I hadn’t yet voiced.
好的，我頓了一下，腦子裏涌上各種我尚未說起過的擔心。
What do you think other kids will say tomorrow if you wear a dress to school?
你覺得如果明天你穿裙子去上學，別的孩子們會怎麼說？
They’ll say, ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’ he replied.
他們會說，‘你是男孩還是女孩？’他答道。
They’ll say: ‘You can’t wear that.
他們會說：‘你不能穿這個，男孩不能穿裙子。
Boys don’t wear dresses.’ They’ll say, ‘Ha, ha, ha, you’re so stupid.’
’他們會說，‘哈哈哈，你真傻氣。
This seemed about right to me.
我覺得這些聽上去都很正常。
And how will that make you feel? I asked.
那你聽了以後會覺得怎樣？我問。
He shrugged and said he didn’t know.
他聳了聳肩，說自己不知道。
But he did know, with certainty, what he wanted to wear to school the next day, even as he also seemed to know what that choice may cost him.
但他確實知道自己明天到底想穿什麼去上學，就算他似乎知道這個選擇會讓自己付出什麼樣的代價。
I hadn’t met his new teacher yet, so I sent her a heads-up by email, explaining that this had been going on for some time; it wasn’t just a whim.
我還沒有見過他的新老師，於是我給她發了一封電子郵件作爲提醒，信中解釋說這種情況已經持續了一段時間，並不是心血來潮。
She emailed back right away, unfazed, and she promised to support our child no matter what.
她很快回復了郵件，完全沒有大驚小怪，保證不管怎樣都會支持我們的孩子。
Then we went shopping.
然後我們就去採購了。
The fairy skirt and sparkly green dress were play clothes.
仙女裙和亮綠連衣裙是戲服。
He didn’t have any skirts or dresses that were appropriate for school.
他還沒有適合上學穿的半身裙或是連衣裙。
I didn’t want to buy a whole new wardrobe when I didn’t know if this was going to last.
我不想買回一整套新行頭，因爲我還不知道這種情況會持續多久。
I envisioned a scenario in which he wore a skirt the first day, got made fun of, and never wore a skirt again.
我想過一種可能性：他可能會第一天穿條裙子去上學，被人取笑一番，然後就再也不穿裙子了。
I envisioned another in which he got the skirt-wearing out of his system and happily donned pants every day thereafter.
我還想過另一種可能性，他會自己放棄穿裙子，然後每天都高高興興穿上褲子。
But mostly I was pretty sure the skirts were here to stay.
但我覺得最有可能的情況，還是他的生活裏再也不能沒有裙子。
School started on a Wednesday, so we bought three outfits to get us through the week.
開學那天是星期三，於是我們買了三套衣服，以便應付這個星期。
Three school skirts.
三條學生裙。
Three school tops.
三件學生上衣。
A pair of white sandals.
一雙白涼鞋。
On the drive home, I asked, What will you say back if kids say the things you think they will?
開車回家時，我問，如果別的孩子對你說了那些你已經猜到他們會說的話，你打算怎麼回答？
I don’t know, he admitted.
我不知道，他承認。
So we brainstormed.
於是我們頭腦風暴了一番。
We role-played.
我們還做起了角色扮演。
We practiced saying, If girls can wear pants or skirts, so can boys.
我們練習說：如果女孩能穿褲子也能穿裙子，那男孩也能。
We practiced saying: You wear what you’re comfortable wearing. This is what I’m comfortable wearing.
我們練習說：你穿的是讓你覺得舒服的衣服，我穿的也是讓我覺得舒服的衣服。
We practiced polite ways of suggesting they mind their own business.
我們練習着彬彬有禮地要求他們別管閒事。
Are you sure? I asked him.
你確定嗎？我問他。
I asked this while he was behind me in his car seat so he wouldn’t see how scared I was.
當時他坐在汽車後座上，這樣就看不見我有多麼擔心。
I asked casually while we ran errands so it wouldn’t seem like a big deal.
我在辦事的時候隨口這麼問他，顯得好像根本沒什麼大不了。
I’m sure, he said. He certainly sounded sure.
我確定，他說，他的聲音確實很堅決。
That made one of us.
我卻並非如此。
The question I couldn’t stop asking myself was: Do we love our children best by protecting them at all costs or by supporting them unconditionally? Does love mean saying, Nothing, not even your happiness, is as important as your safety? Or does love mean saying, Be who you are, and I will love that person no matter what?
我忍不住捫心自問：什麼纔是愛孩子的最好方式，是不惜一切代價保護他們，還是無條件地支持他們？愛是意味着對他說，沒什麼比安全更重要，就連你的幸福也不例外，還是意味着對他說，做你自己，不管你是什麼樣的人我都愛你？
I couldn’t ask my child those questions.
我不能拿這些問題來問我的孩子。
But the next morning I did ask one more time, Are you sure?
但是第二天早上，我確實又問了他一次，你確定嗎？
Which was ridiculous, given that he had gotten up before dawn to put on the new skirt and blouse and sandals and was grinning, glowing, with joy.
這問題真是毫無必要，因爲一大早他就起牀穿上了新裙子和女式襯衫，還有涼鞋，他看起來容光煥發，開心地笑着。
We put some barrettes in his very short hair and took the traditional first-day-of-school pictures.
我們給他的短髮上別上了幾個髮夾，拍了傳統的第一天入學照。
They’re all a little blurry because he was too excited to stand still, but it doesn’t matter because that joyful smile is all you see anyway.
照片都有點模糊，因爲他太興奮了，沒法安安靜靜地站着，但是沒關係，你只會注意到他快樂的笑容。
My husband and I took deep breaths and walked him to school.
我和丈夫深深吸了一口氣，步行送他去學校。
For my son’s part, he fairly floated, seemingly unconcerned.
而我兒子的步伐相當輕鬆，似乎什麼都不在乎。
Having decided, he was sure.
他已經做了決定，他很確定。
The things I imagined happening fell into opposite categories, but both transpired.
我想像過兩種極端的情況，但兩種情況都發生了。
A lot of children didn’t notice, didn’t care or stared briefly before moving on.
很多孩子根本就沒注意到他，他們根本不在乎，或者只是稍微看他一眼就繼續走自己的。
But there were a few who pestered him on the playground and in the hallways, who teased or pressed, who covered their mouths and laughed and pointed and would not be dissuaded by our carefully rehearsed answers.
但是也有一些人在草場上和走廊裏糾纏他，嘲笑他、推他，捂着嘴笑、指指點點，我們精心排練的那些回答對他們根本沒用。
That lasted longer than I had expected, but it was mostly over within the month.
這種情況比我預想的持續得久，但是在一個月內基本就沒有了。
At the end of that first week, when he was going to bed on Friday night, he was upset about something — weepy, cranky and irritable.
在第一週的末尾，週五的晚上，他要上牀睡覺時，好像在憂心什麼事——眼淚汪汪，焦躁不安。
He couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me what the problem was.
他不能或不想告訴我出了什麼事。
His eyes were wet, his fists balled, his face stormy.
他的眼睛含滿淚水，拳頭握了起來，面部表情激動。
I tucked him in and kissed him good night.
我給他掖好被子，給了他一個晚安之吻。
I asked, again, what the matter was.
我再次問他出了什麼事。
I asked, again, what I could do.
我再次問他我能做些什麼。
I told him I couldn’t help if he wouldn’t talk to me.
我對他說如果他不告訴我，我沒辦法幫他。
Finally I whispered, You don’t have to keep wearing skirts and dresses to school, you know.
最後我小聲說：你不必一直穿短裙或連衣裙去上學，你知道的。
If kids are being mean, if it feels weird, you can absolutely go back to shorts and T-shirts.
如果同學們很刻薄，如果那感覺很怪，你當然可以換回短褲和T恤。
He snapped out of it immediately, sitting up, his face clearing, his eyes drying and brightening.
他馬上繃不住了，坐直身子，臉上露出確信的表情，眼裏的淚水不見了，眼睛非常明亮。
No, Mama, he chided.
不，媽媽，他責怪道。
I wish I could say that he did so sweetly, but his tone was more like, Don’t be an idiot.
我希望我能說他當時說得很可愛，不過他的口氣更像是說：別傻了。
I already decided about that, he said. I never think about that anymore.
我已經做出決定了，他說，我再沒想過這事。
It had been three days.
當時他已經在學校過了三天。
But it was also true.
不過，他說的也是真的。
He had already decided.
他已經做出決定。
He didn’t think about that anymore.
他不再想這事了。
And he — she — never looked back.
他——她——從沒後悔。
She grew out her hair.
她留起長髮。
She stopped telling people she was a boy in a skirt and started being a girl in a skirt instead.
她不再告訴人們她是穿短裙的男孩，而是開始做一個穿短裙的女孩。
And we, as a family, decided to be open and honest about it, too, celebrating her story instead of hiding it.
作爲她的家人，我們也決定對此事持開放、誠實的態度，去慶祝而不是隱瞞她的故事。
Two years later, our daughter still sometimes wears the green dress, for dress-up and to put on plays, as we imagined her doing in the first place.
兩年後，我們的女兒在盛裝打扮或過家家時，依然會穿上那件綠裙子，像我們原先設想的那樣。
Now that she can be who she is on the inside and on the outside, on weekdays as well as on weekends, at home and everywhere else, the sparkly green dress has once again become just a costume.
既然不管內心還是外在，工作日還是週末、在家還是在其他地方，她都能做自己，那麼這件閃亮的綠連衣裙再次變回戲服，僅僅是一件戲服。
