A judge has ruled that a five year old Oakville boy should be permitted to pick a gender that is at odds with his chromosomes. His parents are separated and his mother claims that the boy, to use a phrase I have come to loathe, self-identifies as a girl; the father disagrees.
The case has come before the courts and the judge has ruled that “the boy should be dressed as he wishes and not unilaterally pushed toward either a male or a female identity.” The case bears a passing resemblance to a much earlier one where Solomon ruled that a disputed child should be divided in half and each half given to the two women claiming to be his mother. Justice Sheilagh O’Connell, not having the wisdom of Solomon, did not rule that the top half of the child be dressed as a boy and the bottom half as a girl. It would probably have done little to shake the mother’s conviction that the objective reality of her son’s sex should not be a determining factor in his upbringing.
I was a guest at a wedding yesterday and had been asked by the bride’s father to take some candid photos of the event. When the time came to take a photo of all the men, I was preoccupied with photos of my own, so I missed being in the official men’s photo. A woman asked me why I wasn’t in it. The conversation went something like this:
Woman: Why aren’t you in the photo?
Me (deciding to have a little fun): Because I self-identify as a woman.
Woman (not in the least nonplussed): Well why weren’t you in the women’s photo, then?
Me: They wouldn’t let me.
Woman: That’s terrible.
The laughable thing about that is not only was I taken seriously, but the part that shocked the woman was that I, a not particularly effeminate man (I just verified that with my wife) – other than the long nails on my right hand used for guitar playing, an embellishment balanced by the chewed nails on my left hand – was not allowed to pretend to be a woman.
The next wedding I attend, I will be self-identifying as a poached egg to see how that works out.