Michelle wrote this book in hopes of helping those who have had a family member or friend go through a transition; to help them better understand what that individual goes though in this life-altering process.
For the transgender person, as well as for all individuals, life requires us to accept who we are. Then, to live that life as fully and as completely as we possibly can!
Read Michelle's book and understand this journey in life; how opening your eyes as well as your heart can save a life and enhance love.
For the transgender person, as well as for all individuals, life requires us to accept who we are. Then, to live that life as fully and as completely as we possibly can!
Read Michelle's book and understand this journey in life; how opening your eyes as well as your heart can save a life and enhance love.
MY JOURNEY:
My name is Michelle Alexander. I am a natal woman from a small rural community in Montana. I am a Home Health, Hospice Nurse. I have been an RN for almost a quarter of a century, the majority of my career spent in Home Health and Hospice Service. In that time, I have had the opportunity to care for hundreds of ill and dying patients across a broad spectrum of humanity: the rich and the poor; elderly and young; male and female; numerous nationalities, ethnicities and cultural backgrounds.
In the year 2006, I was blessed with an assignment to care for a patient who touched my heart and life in a way that no other patient had before. Her name was Mishelle Woodring. She was a transgender woman. She was put on our Home Health Service for a seven day course of intravenous antibiotics to treat a respiratory infection. What began as a seven day professional encounter turned into a four and half month expedition into identity, gender and unconditional acceptance that affected me profoundly then and continues to affect me even today.
Until the time that I met Mishelle, my experience with the transgender community was essentially nil. Zero. Nothing. My only encounter was in a well-known drag club in Portland my mother took me to while I was still in nursing school. Her intention at that time was to broaden my horizons, given my small-town origins in Butte, Montana. Up to that point, I'd had very little exposure to anything resembling diversity.
Before meeting Mishelle, my mental image of a transgender person was what I saw that night in a drag club; an unrealistic portrait at best of the transgender community. With a casual, unthinking prejudice, I assumed that Mishelle was a male who chose to dress as a female. I thought of her as a transvestite, a term I now acknowledge as obsolete. I soon found that my prejudices regarding Mishelle were also obsolete.
Mishelle was utterly unique in my experience in that she was completely blind. Totally blind; no shadows, nothing. But she had a relatively powerful memory of having had sight for the first eighteen months of her life. She thought she may have remembered the color red and the color green. She was fifty-six years old when I met her. Consider if you will: hers was a life led in complete darkness for over half a century.
To my eternal shame, I confess that for the first three weeks of our relationship, I felt awkward around Mishelle and found myself repeatedly judging her. I remained respectful of her but judge her I most certainly did. Secretly, I hoped that she couldn't sense this. I was conflicted; uncomfortable with her and more uncomfortable with myself for my inability to find a measure of acceptance with my patient.
My discomfort with Mishelle continued for about three weeks. I was very curious and bursting with questions, but I didn't want to offend her by being nosy. But she must have sensed my curiosity because she broke the ice and told me: "If you have the courage to ask, I have the courage to answer."
That was all it took to begin the process of opening my mind and heart to her. Mishelle became my teacher and I gladly became her student. She gave me books to read and videos to watch. With each assignment, the questions multiplied and my curiosity grew by leaps and bounds. She gave me her journal, typed on an old fashioned typewriter, covering the years 1988 to 1991, filled with her deepest emotions and darkest fears. Reading it, I discovered that her daily existence was filled with pain, rejection, fear and moral questions the likes of which I'd never considered.
My heart opened to her. I too had been blind. But now my eyes were opened and I understood. I could see that being a transsexual was not a choice nor was it a lifestyle. It could only come from within. I realized that it was not about the clothing nor was it about merely being femme.
The core of this realization was her blindness. She did not have a visual construct of what a female or a male looked like. She could not look at another woman and think: "That is what I want to look like. That is how I want to dress."
It was at this time that I began crossing professional boundaries with Mishelle; something I had never done in over twenty years of a successful career in nursing. I began visiting her on my off time. I introduced her to my husband and two boys--ages 9 and 12 at the time. We took her under our wing and made her part of our family. She visited our home--with our cheerful assistance--on numerous occasions, most notably for her fifty-seventh birthday. I gave her my cell phone number, my home phone and my email address; all violations of professional conduct. Nevertheless, it felt like the right thing to do and still does.
Mishelle transitioned in Kalispell, Montana, a small town with a population of perhaps seven thousand hard-nosed conservatives. Believe me when I say that her transition was completely and utterly an act of self-determination, raw, unadulterated courage and iron will. Like many transgender folk, she had no guidance, no assistance and very few resources to draw upon; a situation further complicated by her blindness. She could not find a physician to prescribe her the necessary replacement hormones. Eventually, she did contact a counselor but ironically, he had no knowledge of gender issues nor any experience working with a transgender client. She had very little support from her friends or family. The employment possibilities for a blind trans woman in Kalispell in the late eighties were extremely limited. But despite all of the adversities in her path, she did not let them stop her in her quest. Instead, the obstacles she encountered made her all the more determined to become the person she knew herself to be; had known since she was a small child: a female.
Some two months after we met, I attended a spiritual retreat; a Catholic Crusillo. It was a life-changing experience and though I struggled with the knowledge at first, I understood now why I was in Mishelle's life. I knew that she would soon pass away, that it was my role to help her through the emotional process and to be with her throughout the final journey, to show her the unconditional love and acceptance she so richly deserved before she died. I knew as well that she had remained here on this Earth in spite of her terminal illness to educate me so that I could in turn educate others.
Mishelle died on August twelfth, 2006. She died comfortably, with peace in her heart. She knew that she was wholly accepted and loved unconditionally by myself and my family. It was my honor to hold her in my arms as she breathed her last.
I can tell you this as well: meeting Mishelle, getting to know her on such a deep, meaningful level has changed my life. I embrace the lessons that I learned from my dear friend and teacher and strive to apply them in my daily existence. I am forever committed to doing my part in 'paying it forward'. My goal is not only to be an lifelong ally to the trans community but to also share Mishelle's story with anyone and everyone who will listen.
Her story is entitled The Color of Sunlight. This co-written memoir is in the final stages and will be published in mid-February of 2010. My assistant is a dear trans woman that I was fortunate beyond words to have met on my journey. Synchronicities abound: her name just happens to be Michelle, too. In this book you will find the details of Mishelle's life and how I and my family came to know her, love her and understand the greatness of her spirit.
It was Mishelle's dream that her experience might open hearts and minds to the true internal landscape of a transgender individual. It has become my dream as well. My intent is to demonstrate that being transgender has nothing to do with external appearance. It is not about the look, not about the dress, not about a life-style choice, not a fetish and certainly not perverse nor a definition of one's sexuality. My dear friend and teacher was convinced that her choice was to transition or die. She chose to live. She chose to educate and she chose to face her adversities. She chose to love and she chose to forgive. She was my teacher. She was my friend. I am and will be forever grateful that she was placed into my life. I had the opportunity to care for her, to learn from her and show her the unconditional love and acceptance she so completely deserved and I am blessed.
ORDER THE COLOR OF SUNLIGHT
by Michelle Alexander, RN and Michelle Diane Rose
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by Michelle Alexander, RN and Michelle Diane Rose
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