Keri Renault
I was watching the end of one of my favorite movies --Seabiscuit-- when I began to tear up over a touching reference the jockey made about the bond to his championship horse. To paraphrase:
"They said we fixed a broken down horse. But we didn't fix Seabiscuit. We fixed each other."
Seabiscuit became one of the most celebrated thoroughbred racehorses of the 20th Century, but for its first few years of life, the horse toiled in obscurity and rejection. Born of championship bloodlines, Seabiscuit's first owner was disappointed in the horse's diminutive stature and a temperament that didn't fit the mold of other racehorses.
Seabiscuit was jettisoned to new owners. Over time, they gave up on him, too, relegating the horse to training runs with thoroughbreds that were viewed as "winners". In order to bolster the self confidence of these "up and comers" Seabiscuit was repeatedly forced to lose demeaning training runs.
Broken in spirit, small in size, Seabiscuit was sold for bottom dollar. The horse had retreated into itself, but Seabiscuit's new jockey could see a fire that burned in its eyes. The jockey-small, frail and almost blind-had also toiled in obscurity, never having been accepted as anything other than a training jockey and stable hand.
The jockey knew what it was like to be rejected; to have never been seen for who he was and what he could offer. He slowly reached out to Seabiscuit on the horse's own terms. Saddling the fiery horse for the first time, he allowed Seabiscuit to run with his own nature-galloping freely across open fields and farmlands. Racing faster and faster-unbridled-for the first time in the horse's life, Seabiscuit ran like the true champion he was destined to become.
The rest is history as Seabiscuit and his jockey forged a bond born of mutual respect and acceptance. The horse ran for the jockey like no one had ever witnessed in the history of modern day horseracing. As a team, they went on to victory time and time again, defying the odds and setting their place in history.
I think there's a remarkable parallel to so many of us in the trans-community. While we may not be born of championship bloodlines, we are born unique and deserving to be accepted for the "gifts" we have to offer. Instead, we feel out of place and different from the rest. If we try to express who we truly are we often experience early childhood rejection, not just by family, but often friends, classmates and the world around us. Slowly but surely we lose confidence. We retreat. We bury our "gender gift" so deep that no one can recognize the brilliant individual we were meant to become. Soon we are broken…..
I felt broken and beyond repair for years. Fortunately an accepting 2nd wife, unconditionally loving friends and supportive older "sisters" helped mend my heart, mind and soul by allowing my true nature to surface and run free. Liberated, I could enjoy the blessings that my gender gift allowed. Small victories in getting my hair and makeup just right. Bigger wins taking my first steps out in public. Finally, the championship ride of knowing I could be accepted for who I am and not the perception of "what I should be" to someone else's standard.
Surely many of us have seen a "broken sister" along the way. The girl who hangs her head as she shuffles by at a convention. The sister who struggles with her identity in online chats. The transgendered woman who appears at first in drab, struggling with self acceptance and fearing rejection-barely walking and certainly not running.
I hope those of us who have learned to unbridle our spirit and run free as the beautiful transgendered thoroughbreds we are will remember the touching story of Seabiscuit and his jockey. The next time we have the opportunity to make contact with a "broken, dispirited transgendered individual let's reach out and accept them for the gifts they can bring to themselves…and to us.
Like the once downtrodden but later vindicated and victorious jockey, we can continue to "fix ourselves" by opening up and volunteering to nurture and "fix each other."
Let's all run the good race.
