Color Me Kelly ~part 9

This chapter was written two years ago when the climate of Trans was beginning to improve. I am toying with re-writing it as things are now....

- Support Meeting-

Kelly walked inside the community center and to the designated room for a monthly meeting. He had attended the LGBTQ+ support group one other time and had felt awkward. He hadn’t shared when asked to, not ready to talk to strangers about his life then. Tonight he was. He needed to live his authentic life.

The room had changed dramatically. Where there had been one large rainbow flag, there must have been over two dozen various flags covering the wall. Kelly wasn’t sure what each of them meant. But it gave him the sense that everyone was welcomed here.

The circle of folding chairs had grown as well. Three rows made it possible for more attendees and almost every chair was filled. That was good, right?

A slender person who had been talking to some of the younger people in front nodded to him as he stepped into the room. The short curly black hair didn’t give any clue as to gender. The nose ring didn’t either. Kelly saw they wore, jeans, brown loafers and a blue pullover hoodie with bright white letters that read:

Kelly chuckled as they approached. “Cool shirt,” he said

“Hi. Thanks, and welcome. I’m Pat,” was their greeting and a hand was extended.

Kelly’s thoughts immediately went to an old Saturday Night Live skit about a gender neutral person named PAT. He’d seen it repeatedly on U-tube after he’d confessed to his therapist he thought he was Trans. People in the skit kept asking questions to try and pin down Pat’s gender. They had never been able to. When asked about a love interest Pat said they liked a person named Chris. It was funny at first. But Kelly wanted to scream at those insisting on knowing. As if it was any ones business. It wasn’t important.

“Hey,” Kelly said as he shook Pat’s hand. He really should consider what he wanted to be called.

Pat didn’t ask his name, or take offence that he hadn’t given it. Instead Pat pointed to the circle of chairs. “Join us. We have a great group here tonight.”

“Sure.” Kelly sat down near those he thought were his age and stared at the people across from him. Older people who looked as if they might be parents were scattered amongst participates. He could imagine his mother there. She’d come if he asked her. Maybe he would.

Pat went to the wall of flags and took one to the center of the circle. “Tonight, we are talking about those who support us. And those people…” Nodding toward the older adults Pat added, “have a flag as well.” Holding a piece of fabric with a black and white striped background and an upside down V in rainbow colors in the foreground they waved it back and forth. “This is the Straight ALLY flag.”

A smattering of applause went up. Some of the adults looked surprised, but obviously pleased as they added to the applause.

“Any questions you have will be addressed tonight. We must be open if we want others to be. If that is a problem for anyone, please remain silent and come talk to me afterwards. Let’s begin, shall we? My name is Pat. My pronouns are they/them. Let’s start here and go around the group.”

Luckily, Pat had pointed to his right to the first person on the front row opposite of him. Good, it would give him time to come up with an alias to use.

“I’m Steph, my pronouns are she/her.” A male with a flowery blouse and long hair said. He had a purse draped across his flat chest that sported a Trans flag.

Ok, the pronoun thing was hard. Kelly knew how important it was and looked at Steph harder. As others introduced themselves Kelly watched Steph. She was fidgeting with the purse and ringing her hands which had immaculately beautiful pink painted nails. She had curled her hair and the only make-up was a bit of blush and pink lipstick. Steph had made an effort to appear herself. The least Kelly could do was make the effort to think of her as female.

“I’m Jill, my pronouns are she/her” a lady said. She was professionally dressed in a three pieced pink suit. “Will we be talking about how to be better allies tonight?”

“Yes Jill, we will. Let’s get through introductions before we take questions, okay?”

“Sorry,” Jill said.

Kelly pegged her as probably someone’s parent. He heard a few of the introductions, tuning out most of them out. He understood about dead names and how most Trans had new names when they started their new lives.

“K.C. he/him” A short feminine looking guy said as it got closer to Kelly’s turn.

Well there went that idea down the drain. Kelly had the same initials. Should he change his name? It wasn’t like he had a terrible childhood and was trying to forget it.

“And last but not least, we have…,” Pat gestured at Kelly.

“Kelly, he/him,” he blurted out. There he’d introduced himself. He’d always been Kelly and would still be and he felt good about it.

Pat said, “Welcome everyone. Rules we live by here are, One: Never out another human, and Two: When speaking of a person refer to them as someone I know… Or, a person I met… Weather intentional or not we must always remember rule number one.” Pat turned back to Jill. “How to be a better ally. That was your question, right, Jill?”

Kelly watched as Jill stood across from him. He admired that she was trying at least.

“I’ve known about… ah, someone… for over three years. She started seeing someone, I don’t want her to think I’m against it.”

Pat nodded. “Does anyone else here have that problem?”

Several of the parent types nodded their heads.

Pat went on. “You know, being an ally doesn’t mean you have to talk about sexuality all the time. Just listen and be interactive to whatever they are interested in. Jill do you support your friends interests?”

“I try to. But we don’t talk much. She is an artist and I told her she was doing a good job on her latest piece.”

“That’s a good start.”

“But she has a new person coming over this weekend. How do I make sure they know I am supportive? Do I have to fly a flag?” She pointed to the Ally flag.

“Of course not, just be friendly. Be yourself. Act as if they were any guest in your home. If you feel awkward they will too. We should all be authentic. As with everyone, there are more things we have in common than we have differences. Just be kind.”

“Ah, okay.” Jill said and sat down.

Kelly had the feeling that Jill had more issues than she was letting on. Could he find something in common with her? Yes he did. He raised his hand. “I also just started seeing someone and haven’t told her I am Trans,” Kelly said.

“I believe you’ll know the right time when it presents itself. Again, just be yourself,” Pat said.

“But what if coming out makes her have second thoughts about dating me?”

“They must have seen something they liked, in the first place.”

Several heads bobbed up and down signaling they agreed. A petite kid in the front row opposite Pat wore a maxi dress and flowery blouse. She raised her hand and Pat nodded to her.

“You look like a nice enough guy. Give yourself and this new thing time and see where it goes. And you’re cute. There are plenty of fish in the sea and all that. If it doesn’t work out give me a call.” She giggled.

“Mary, this isn’t a place to look for a new boyfriend,” Pat said. “But she is right.”

Jill nodded and smiled in his direction. “He is cute.”

Pat chuckled then said, “I meant about taking time and being you.”

Kelly liked being perceived as a nice guy and cute. In this moment he felt the truest he had in a long time. There was no pressure to prove himself, like he did at work. He felt he had to do twice as much to be half as good as the guys on his Dad’s work crew. Why couldn’t the real world look past appearances and pronouns?

An hour later, Kelly left the meeting with a new respect for the community center. They were really trying to help. Things were getting better and the turnout was good. As he pulled his keys from his pocket to open the door, he noticed Steph heading for the bus-stop.

“Steph?” he yelled.

She looked behind her as if Kelly was talking to someone else. Then she waved with the realization he was addressing her.

“You need a ride?” Kelly asked.

“Really?” Steph asked.

“Of course, come on.”

Steph readjusted the purse so her flag didn’t show as she walked towards him. “I’m staying at City Union Mission housing downtown. Is that too far?”

Steph obviously had more issues than just being Trans. Kelly took the destination in stride.

“Heck no, I can go downtown.”

He met Steph at the front of the truck and gestured toward the passenger door. Then on second thought, he march toward it himself, and opened it. “No worries, it won’t take that long.” He would open the car door for any other woman.

Steph smiled as she got in. She began rummaging through her purse as Kelly got in and started the engine. “I really appreciate this.”

“Hey we, Trans people have to stick together,” he said.

The silence was awkward as they drove. Steph was wiping off her make-up and put her hair into a pony tail with a rubber band.

“Have you been to many of the meetings?” Kelly asked.

Steph shook her head. “No, this was my first. I have to be Stanley in my real life.” She said with overly exaggerated emphasis on the name.

“Huh? Oh, you mean in the real world. I get it.”

“Thank you. Yes, in the real world. I have to stay in the men’s quarters. Being Trans has already cost me a couple of set-backs. No one can find out.”

That had to be difficult. But like Pat said they had more things in common than differences.

“It was only my second time, but I liked it,” Kelly said.

“Yeah, I might come again.”

He followed her instructions to the front of a building and pulled to the curb. “Maybe I’ll see you again then?”

“Sure,” Steph said as she opened the door. “Bye, I’d still be waiting for the bus if not for you.”

As Kelly pulled away and traveled back towards the plaza. He had a new perspective on his world. He didn’t feel alone anymore. Others were going through the same awkward transitions. There might be progress, but he couldn’t help think there was still a long way to go for the Trans community.

Joseph L. Wiess

Mr. Troy Ford

Qstack | The LGBTQIA+ Directory of Substacks