Amygdalia's Blog

Book club thoughts rambling around my brain

I struggled mightily to finish this month's selection for the local book group I belong to. It is a self-published work entitled There Is Always a Choice, a semi-autobiographical novel about a philosophy professor who essentially bounces from person to person to small group, sharing philosophical ideas as a way to counsel others. The woman is local, and was invited to join our discussion last night.

Some of my friends on WDC are likely BEYOND tired of hearing me rant about the book, and were probably dancing for joy last night, knowing that it was behind me. I know that I was ready to be dancing for joy at the thought!

The discussion turned out to be quite different from what I was expecting . . . although in retrospect I probably should have expected it to unfold PRECISELY as it did. As a local, she had many connections with others in the group, making the thought-provoking yet somewhat critical question I had prepared sit uncomfortably, unspoken. I found the irony later, as I was driving home, thinking about one of the quotes we had discussed . . . something about a woman who lacked the courage to speak the truth.

In any case, the majority of the evening was the author telling her life story, using snippets of philosophy just as she did in her story. Near the end of the evening came the biggest surprise. I had sat, several times pondering whether to jump in with a comment or question but usually keeping my thoughts to myself (lacking the courage to speak the truth at times, and at other times . . . just uncertain, as I can often be, with how to insert myself into a conversation that large). She started speaking about her son, describing him as "thick" with Aspergers and OCD tendencies. She told a story of how he had been given a personality test in high school, receiving quite an array of positive attributes, which his teacher then proceeded to tell him were all feminine attributes (in reality, they were neither feminine nor masculine - things such as "kind" and "honest.") She went on to talk about how he'd very much taken that to heart, and while she did not go into nearly enough detail for me to get a sense of whether he considers himself transgender or lives in any way as a female, he legally changed his name to Jennifer about a decade ago. And through the story, she continued to call him Eric. Or Alex . . . ummmm I honestly can't remember. But what struck me as she was telling the story was how she continued to see him as flawed. He had come back to live at home after many years of living in the Pacific Northwest, and his therapist said he held a LOT of anxiety surrounding his name. As I said, she continued to call him Eric (maybe). As she seemed to be wrapping up her story, I decided it was time for me to speak up.

I told her about Dhoc-li Llama , who on the eve of turning 18, came to us and asked that we use a new, gender neutral name. I did not go into a great amount of detail except to say that Jennifer's story resonated for me because of that, and because self-identity is SO vital to mental health and self-esteem. I was very clear . . . I used the name Jennifer without hesitation, and I think my comment had a tremendous impact on her. I believe I taught the philosopher something important, in the end.