Transitions & Invitations

As I write this, it’s now autumn here in the mountains of central Pennsylvania. Here at Penn State, that means so many things — the rains intensify, the leaves fall, the nights crisp . . . oh and football. Today, I’m writing about football, but not really.

One of the many traditions surrounding football here at PSU is tailgating. People here do it extremely well, and we’re proud of that. Our flavor of tailgating is different from, say down south where people dress in formal attire, or at the amazing Kansas City BBQ tents I saw when I went to a Chiefs game all those years back. One facet that makes it different is that, for those of who came up during Paterno’s time, we treat the visiting teams’ fans as honored guests. We want to show some class, etc. (BTW — this piece is not to discuss what happened with that monster now rotting in jail, okay?). We invite those visitors to join us under our tents, drink and eat with us. I think it’s a wonderful tradition, in that it shows that what happens on the field is only a game — a form of entertainment — which we are all there to enjoy.

As I’ve written ad infinitum, I started college at Drexel University in 1984, and joined a fraternity in May 1985. In fall 1986, I transferred to Penn State main campus: my first transition. And like most transitions in my life, positives and negatives occurred. I maintain that transferring to PSU was one of the best decisions I ever made. However, not everyone subscribes to that opinion. I’ve also written about the, ahem, rather cool reception I received from my Skull fraternity brothers at PSU. I was very different from them, and they never let me forget it. Despite that, I’d sworn an oath to the fraternity, and I keep my word. So, I volunteered for things, helped clean, etc, and eventually carved out a little niche for myself, and even found a little acceptance. While at PSU I dated a “little sister” of another fraternity, Crow house. Their little sister program was quite strong, and those women hung out a lot. They were like a sorority unto themselves. For the record, I still don’t understand why a girl would want to be a little sister of a house unless she was dating/wanted to date one of the brothers. That’s also not the point here.

Last weekend, PSU played Auburn. This was a big game: a “white out” where everyone wears all white and gets really drunk and noisy, etc. A bunch of the brothers from my time returned for the game, and were having a tailgate. I know this because they discussed it on our FB page (that I created for just such communication.) Also, some Crow little sisters that I reconnected with a couple years back invited me to their tailgate. Very nice of them, as things with the sister I dated ended very badly. However, these women have embraced and supported me and my transition.

I contacted the fraternity tailgate organizers privately, asking for details/location of their tailgate, and what I should bring, etc. The stadium is a 2.5 mile walk from my apartment. I never heard back from them. Not a peep. The Crows told me exactly where they’d be, and told me just to bring me. (Linda was invited, but had to work.) So, I walked the miles, was welcomed with open arms, and had an amazing time with the Crow sisters. As a bonus, one of my dearest friends and her husband were there as well. My college reputation for drinking followed me, as the women kept inviting Auburn fans to join us, and telling them I’d do a shot with them. Which I did. Ten of them. And three beers.

I had a wonderful time out in the sun, without suntan lotion (but with a sun hat.) Eventually, I knew I’d hit my limit, and we parted ways. I walked the miles home, felling drunk, sweaty, and dizzy from the sun. Linda picked me up part way, and I took a nap before watching PSU win a tight game against Auburn. I sat on my couch, drinking water. I had sun poisoning and probably a mild case of sun stroke. BUT- I wasn’t hungover!

The point is this. My fraternity brothers never returned my inquiries, while the Crow sisters embraced me at their gathering. Why didn’t the brothers reply? Was it because I was a transfer all those years ago? Was it because I transitioned? Or was it because the people in charge simply just don’t like me?People in my fraternity have, for the most part been tolerant if not supportive of my transition. I get it — it’s not an easy thing to grasp: a brother is now a sister and all that. Yet, the women of a group to which I didn’t belong, who didn’t have any possible reason to invite an outsider to join them, went out of their way to include me.

There’s a metaphor for transition here, and maybe a lesson to be learned or hint to be taken, but at this point, I’m too busy doing homework to dope it out.

Be well.

Tags: featured, Transgender, Transition

Category: Transgender Body & Soul