Share

Share this

Share on Facebook Share on Facebook Tweet Share on Twitter Share on WhatsApp Share on WhatsApp

SUBSCRIBE TO THE NEWSLETTER

This week, Tiziana, a ten-year-old trans girl, received her new national identity document at the Civil Registry in Salta, Argentina, two years after telling her parents about her gender identity. Salta-based trans activist Pía Ceballos wrote this column: an open letter from one generation to the next.

By Pía Ceballos

Last year, a little girl said to her teacher, "Miss, at least call me TIZ, call me that...please, I beg you, call me TIZ..." A child was challenging the adult in power, and it was her parents who defended the youngest member of the family—the one who dances, the one who sings, the one who studies, the one who steals their smiles with the boundless love of their parents—with their lives. The battle had begun, and the struggle had a fundamental objective: happiness, that feeling of being happy, which is part of the deep desire of a non-binary identity. I met her in November at the march; she took my hand, and we marched together. From that day until today, we continue to march alongside her mother and father.

[READ ALSO: Lucas, the trans boy from Entre Ríos who asked to change his ID]

In December, I gave her her first dress, the one she so desperately wanted, because I could tell she was tired of carrying around that bag of shoes filled with clothes that hurt and violated her very being.
That little girl brought back memories for all the older trans women and trans people of the most beautiful and also the cruelest moments of our childhoods, scars that still grow larger on many bodies. It was the whip or the belt, the teacher's fists or pointer, the cross and the penance, the discipline and its psychology… It was so many things: school, healthcare, the state, and the system that threw us into the depths of misery when we were so young.

Who will give us back our childhood?

And when we ask: who, who will give us back our childhood? The state's answer is silence and apathy, and a society complicit in that silence, joining in a single echo… but we dare to say that it is this generation, those to come, that will live in equality, in freedom, because they will be completely free from violent and discriminatory childhoods.
Because it is the infinite love of our bonds with those children that made us embrace our childhoods again.

[READ ALSO: The story behind a viral tweet: “I’m having a 12-year-old son”]

I remember the first day of school this year. We were all very nervous, but she did well and told us that the teacher respected her name when taking attendance. That means that talking with the supervisor last year and giving a workshop at the school, and then giving "a thousand workshops" in "I don't know" how many schools—I lost count over the years—had finally paid off. But this year I felt very happy for the teachers and administrators who were exemplary in their compliance with the law.
There were many ups and downs to get Tiz's legal name change. Just a few days ago, I found myself arguing that the lawyer's role isn't binding on the parents' request. Finally, the day arrived, and that day is today.
Today, dear Tiz, will be etched in your memory, but also in ours. With you, we have the hope that this fighting spirit will never be extinguished. With you, the strength to keep fighting is reborn.
I hug you, my little one!