The kindergarten drama continues round here. While the spots are swirling among the various private schools, we continue our undaunted pursuit of the Korean Immersion Program at a well-regarded public school. SF boasts many language immersion programs, but this is the only Korean one. The others are Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese, and Spanish. The kinder class has 20 seats, some of which were taken by siblings of the older kids (don't know how many). So we are vying for one of those few remaining seats. We didn't get one in Round 1, so we are submitting our name for the Waiting Pool and hoping for the best. Last year, 2 seats were made available to families in the waiting pool, so there is a slim chance. I realize now, however, that I may have made a crucial error by not emphasizing on our form that we have a Korean speaker in the home. Apparently this is a big factor, though nowhere on the form does it ask that.
The application form did ask us these questions:
1) What is the first language your children spoke: For our kids, that is English.
2) What is the primary language spoken in the home: You got it, English again. (If you don't count chaji, koondengi, and pangoo as "primary language.")
3) Please mark the box next to the racial group that your child most identifies with, ranking them 1, 2, 3, etc. Huh? I am supposed to rank them? My kids are Hapa. the Ha and the Pa are equally important and equally present. You can't possibly expect me to rank them. So I put an X in the Korean box and an X in the "White" box. I guess this wasn't good enough.
A little bit of history here: Up until 1946, on most public enrollment/application forms, "Jewish" was a racial group. One can argue the merits of that, if one wants to, and I don't, but it is a fact. So a person back then was categorized as either Caucasian, Negro, Oriental, Jewish, etc. I know these terms are antiquated, and in many instances offensive, but they are the terms used at the time. After WW II, Jewish was dropped as a racial category and Jews were supposed to say they are "White." Again, one could argue the merits of this, and I don't want to, at least not right now. So being asked to classify my kids as "white" and "Korean," and then being asked to prioritize these things was, to put it bluntly, fucked up. Oh, and they say that they are asking for the racial information for purely demographic reasons. It has no impact on school assignment. Then why ask me to prioritize it?
So now we are in the situation of having to strategize to get into the KIP program, or else have Booper do a year of pre-K, which I'm sure he would love, then do this all over again next year. I am really okay with "red-shirting" him for a number of reasons. But I am feeling pretty annoyed at how we have to go through these machinations to get our kid into public school. Despite our annoyance, the current plan is to have The Handyman, in all his Korean glory, go down to the Educational Placement Center and let them know that we have a Korean speaker in the home. This is supposed to be very desirable, as he could potentially help the kids with homework, etc. Can you believe that this is what it takes?
I spoke for a while with a mom who sent both of her kids through this immersion program, though they are not at all Korean. She loves the program and thinks it's "perfect" for us. I agree. It is perfect. We are committed to the culture and the language and would be very enthusiastic about the annual school trip to Korea and the Korean student exchange in 6th grade. She said a lot of folks ask for the Korean Immersion just to get into the school, then they drop it after a year or two and go into the general education strand of this highly regarding elementary school. Jerks.
Any other ideas out there on how to handle this? Is there some secret Korean handshake I can do with someone to grease the wheels a little bit?
Friday, March 21, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
What's good enough for my children
I am pissed off today. So if you plan to read this entry, I suggest you put on your helmet.
We received our "letter of assignment" on Saturday, telling us which public school Booper has been assigned to for kindergarten. We received exactly NONE of our choices. (The process involves listing up to 7 schools that you would consider, then they assign you to one of them based on their fucked up "diversity" selection system.) Instead, he was assigned to some for-shit public school, nowhere near our house, where the mother of one of the students was shot a couple years ago by her estranged husband. We are not sending our child there. I am not sending my precious son to kindergarten in some concrete dump with inferior facilities, mediocre academics, and underfunded extracurriculars, that cannot guarantee basic safety in their own parking lot. Needless to say, we are not accepting this "assignment."
Our options, at this point, are the following.
1) We can "select" a few other schools that we would consider and hope a space opens up for him in one of those. Of course, these are the schools that still have openings, meaning no one else wanted to go to them either.
2) We can put him on the waiting list for ONE school only, and hope he gets a spot.
3) We can keep him in pre-K for a year and then try this process again next year, including private schools in the mix. Because of his birthdate, he did not make the cut off for a lot of the private schools this year so we didn't go that route at all. Not that we really want private school, but if our choice is private school or some bullshit like this, then we'll take private, thank you very much.
Our top choice school for him is the Korean Immersion program at one of the popular public schools. Thirty-eight other families made this their top choice. A total of 130 families had it somewhere on their list. And this is for less than 20 spaces. (We don't know how many exactly because the class size is 20 but some spots are taken by siblings. Maybe all of them were!) I think some families say they want their children in this program just as a way of getting them into the school in general. It's one of the most desirable public elementary schools in the city. Then they ask to switch out later, to the general education track. But in the meantime, they take a spot that could go to a child with a genuine interest in learning to read and write and speak in Korean. Like Booper. We did not get offered one of these very few spots, unfortunately. But my inclination at this point is to put this program down for our one waiting list choice. I've heard this can work, if you're tenacious. One thing I am is fucking tenacious. I applied to UC Berkeley 3 times before I got it, and then I was the valedictorian of my class. So the fucking joke was on them, those assholes.
I guess it could be worse. We do have the option of having him go through one year of pre-K at his current school, which we like a lot. Of course, this costs about $16K a year. A steal compared to the expected $20K a year for private school. Some families have to put their children in kindergarten next year no matter what. But I still feel angry that, after paying property taxes in this city for 5 years, we still can't get our son a seat in even the public elementary school that is 3 blocks from our house. No shit. We put that down as one of our choices, and we didn't even get that. This drives me ape shit. Makes me want to do something crazy, like move to Marin.
I am so frustrated. What kind of system is this? What the flying fuck is this? And what's the best thing to do now?
We received our "letter of assignment" on Saturday, telling us which public school Booper has been assigned to for kindergarten. We received exactly NONE of our choices. (The process involves listing up to 7 schools that you would consider, then they assign you to one of them based on their fucked up "diversity" selection system.) Instead, he was assigned to some for-shit public school, nowhere near our house, where the mother of one of the students was shot a couple years ago by her estranged husband. We are not sending our child there. I am not sending my precious son to kindergarten in some concrete dump with inferior facilities, mediocre academics, and underfunded extracurriculars, that cannot guarantee basic safety in their own parking lot. Needless to say, we are not accepting this "assignment."
Our options, at this point, are the following.
1) We can "select" a few other schools that we would consider and hope a space opens up for him in one of those. Of course, these are the schools that still have openings, meaning no one else wanted to go to them either.
2) We can put him on the waiting list for ONE school only, and hope he gets a spot.
3) We can keep him in pre-K for a year and then try this process again next year, including private schools in the mix. Because of his birthdate, he did not make the cut off for a lot of the private schools this year so we didn't go that route at all. Not that we really want private school, but if our choice is private school or some bullshit like this, then we'll take private, thank you very much.
Our top choice school for him is the Korean Immersion program at one of the popular public schools. Thirty-eight other families made this their top choice. A total of 130 families had it somewhere on their list. And this is for less than 20 spaces. (We don't know how many exactly because the class size is 20 but some spots are taken by siblings. Maybe all of them were!) I think some families say they want their children in this program just as a way of getting them into the school in general. It's one of the most desirable public elementary schools in the city. Then they ask to switch out later, to the general education track. But in the meantime, they take a spot that could go to a child with a genuine interest in learning to read and write and speak in Korean. Like Booper. We did not get offered one of these very few spots, unfortunately. But my inclination at this point is to put this program down for our one waiting list choice. I've heard this can work, if you're tenacious. One thing I am is fucking tenacious. I applied to UC Berkeley 3 times before I got it, and then I was the valedictorian of my class. So the fucking joke was on them, those assholes.
I guess it could be worse. We do have the option of having him go through one year of pre-K at his current school, which we like a lot. Of course, this costs about $16K a year. A steal compared to the expected $20K a year for private school. Some families have to put their children in kindergarten next year no matter what. But I still feel angry that, after paying property taxes in this city for 5 years, we still can't get our son a seat in even the public elementary school that is 3 blocks from our house. No shit. We put that down as one of our choices, and we didn't even get that. This drives me ape shit. Makes me want to do something crazy, like move to Marin.
I am so frustrated. What kind of system is this? What the flying fuck is this? And what's the best thing to do now?
Thursday, March 6, 2008
My Peeps
We are invited to a birthday party this weekend. Ordinarily, this would not be worth mentioning, as there are birthday parties almost every week when you have two kids in preschool. It seems that, at this age, inviting the entire class is de rigeur (we don't, but others feel it's the proper thing to do). This party is different, though. It is the party for the baby sister of one of Booper's classmates. The classmate in question is a beautiful and sweet Little Korean girl, 100%. She has a crush on the Boop, and wants to marry him, which puts her in good company. (It seems that most of the girls at his school have designs on him. And what's not to like?) We feel that she would be an ideal wife for Booper, but that it may be premature to make this kind of decision.I'm not sure what the genesis of this invitation is, but I am touched and flattered, and a tad surprised, by it. You see, the party is at a restaurant, to celebrate LKG's baby sister's dol. We have never met LKG's baby sister, though we have met her parents who are friendly, intelligent, and kind people. I was once chatting with LKG's mother (who is stunning, BTW) at a school event. She told me that LKG has a crush on Booper. Then added, "What the heck! I have a crush on him, too! Those lips! That hair! He's so handsome!"
I checked the Evite list, and we are the only family from the preschool that is invited (and possibly the only family that is not 100% Korean.) I assume that is because:
1) They are taking this preschool betrothal more seriously than we are
2) They wanted to have a friend there for their older daughter to play with
3) They are wrapping us in the warm, kimchi love of the Korean family.
Whichever it is, we're happy to be included, but I am a little nervous about being the outsider, unfamiliar with the customs, foods, language. I love to experience new things, but I don't want to put my foot in it by mistake. My son's social life hangs in the balance! Sound familiar to some of you Kimchi Mamas? Can anyone offer some guidance on the how-tos? I have only been to my own sons' dols, and I think they were fairly unorthodox. My sense is that this is going to be the real deal.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Wax Off, Wax On
Why do preschool enrichment classes require that you pay for classes upfront? Probably because they are familiar with the fickle whims of your average 4-year-old.
Case in point: Booper was thriving in his martial arts class, enthusiastically participating, and earned his first stripe after the required 5 classes. At the 6th class, the Handyman came along and videotaped the class for posterity. We watched the video endlessly in the living room, oohing and aahing over Booper's accomplishment. But the Boop did not seem so impressed.
The following week, he absolutely refused to participate. Would not even put on his uniform. The Senpei (junior teacher and also Sensei's son) sensitively inquired if "anything happened at school today" to upset him. Nope. He just categorically refused to do the class. I gave him a pass that day and that night we discussed the problem. It came out that Booper was nervous about doing jumping jacks after seeing himself on the video. He does not think he does JJs the right way, and he refuses to particpate in something that he does not do well. (Uh....that gene would be mine. Sorry.) So after a lengthy JJ practice session and a talk about how it's okay to make mistakes, we tried again.
Boop was willing to put on his uniform this time, but he hid behind the elliptical trainer and would not come out, curling up with a big boo-boo face. The Sensei came over to encourage him, but no dice. I told Sensei that Booper was worried about making a mistake with the jumping jacks. He said, "hey, it's no big deal. I make mistakes with the JJs sometimes too." Booper was unmoved. We stayed for 2/3 of the class, then I took him home, angry at his unwillingness to even try. I know it was a mistake to be angry, and even in the moment I knew it wouldn't help, but I was frustrated at the thought of having spent all this $$ on the class only to have him refuse to do it. I'm not sure why this touched such a nerve in me, but I was pissed. I resolved to talk with Sensei the next day to strategize.
As soon as I walked into the dojo, Sensei asked, "So what's up with [Booper]? Why doesn't he want to do class?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I answered.
"When that kid smiles, his face lights up the room. But when he's grumpy, look out!" he observed.
"I know. But I don't think it's a good idea to let him quit once it gets difficult. We want to teach him that making mistakes is okay, especially in a class, and that he has to keep trying."
"Yeah, you can't stop bringing him now. He'll just learn that it's okay to give up. Just keep bringing him until you eventually wear him down. Sometimes you have to walk that line between pushing and parenting."
So I resolved to continue bringing him to class. The next opportunity was Saturday morning, after the adult boxing/kickboxing class. In the past, I have taken this one-hour class, which is immediately followed by the preschool martial arts class, and Booper has played or colored while I got my sweat on. The people at the dojo are totally cool with that. So I brought Booper along, hoping he could hang out and get comfortable enough to do his class. (If you knew his personality, you'd know that this is a sound strategy.) I also tried a little "psychology." I told him I was nervous about my class because I was going to have a new teacher, but I planned to do the class anyway, even though I felt scared. I asked him if he feels scared about his class too, and we agreed to support each other through the nerves with a promise of chocolate if we both did our "best job."
Upon arrival, I put on his uniform (I mean I helped him put his uniform on. You knew that, right?) then started punishing myself with kicks, punches, push-ups, and the like. He was watching me intently to be sure I did my "best job" when the Sensei asked him if he'd like to help do some measuring around the studio in preparation for a remodeling project, Booper eagerly agreed. He happily followed Sensei around, holding the tape, counting the numbers, and assisting with the work. They were having a great time, yucking it up. I heard a passer-by ask the Sensei, "Hey...is that your boy?" To which Sensei replied, "I wish."
When it came time for the kids class, Booper again was reluctant to take part. He was worried about the jumping jacks. The senpei lead him over to class and I told him I would do the first part with him (mostly stretching). He agreed. While he did not do any JJs (and that is the very first thing they do), he did complete the rest of the class with aplomb. As a very special reward, Sensei gave him another stripe for his belt. (You're supposed to complete 5 classes for a stripe, and Booper wasn't there yet.) He said that this special stripe was something Booper earned for being brave and overcoming his fears.
Booper was over the moon. After class, he ran into my arms and showed me his new stripe. "Look at my stripe, Mom! I am so happy!" I wanted to run over and give the Sensei a big hug, but opted instead to just whisper "Thank you" as he walked by. To which he replied, "You are very welcome." Don't you love the Sensei? I think I found the right teacher for my kid. Now if I could just get this lucky with the kindergarten thing.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
MN in MN
MN: Please forgive my tardiness on this. I was visiting my mother, and the risk of leaving a cookie crumb behind on her computer that would lead her straight to us was just too much chance to take.
You may not know this, but I read your blog every day. I think about you throughout the evening and wonder how you are doing. I imagine creating a voo-doo doll in PN's likeness and jamming the rectal area with sharp little pins.
You know why I am not voting for Hillary? There are several reasons, but here is one that is relevant to this situation: She took shit from her husband that no woman should take, just to further her career. Let's face it. Her husband, while brilliant and possibly an excellent President, humiliated her and her daughter in front of the world. On more than one occasion. And he lied about it, dragging her along with him. I can understand that, while he was Prez, she may not have felt she could dump his ass. But once that part was over, kick that sorry pile to the curb. If she couldn't do it for herself, then what about as an example to her daughter of what NOT to take from a man.
How does this relate to you? Because I am a firm believer that marriage vows are only valid when both parties adhere to them. Marriage may have been created as a lopsided biblical institution designed to enslave women, provide for their economic survival, and offer them protection from roaming bands of wolves, but it's not that anymore. It's a partnership. Takes two to tango, etc. I don't know what your marriage vows contained, but mine did not say, "I promise to take whatever shit you can dish out, allow you to call me names, drive you around so you can get shit-faced when I'm 15-months pregnant, give you all my money to buy darts, clean up your crusty blue underwear, and accept racist and bigoted behavior from your family."
If you did happen to state those vows, then I guess you're screwed. But if you went with the usual "love, honor, respect" thing, then you're free and clear.
So please know that you are doing the right thing. You are doing the only viable thing. You are doing the strong thing. You are doing the sensible thing. You are doing the motherly thing. And we got your back.
You may not know this, but I read your blog every day. I think about you throughout the evening and wonder how you are doing. I imagine creating a voo-doo doll in PN's likeness and jamming the rectal area with sharp little pins.
You know why I am not voting for Hillary? There are several reasons, but here is one that is relevant to this situation: She took shit from her husband that no woman should take, just to further her career. Let's face it. Her husband, while brilliant and possibly an excellent President, humiliated her and her daughter in front of the world. On more than one occasion. And he lied about it, dragging her along with him. I can understand that, while he was Prez, she may not have felt she could dump his ass. But once that part was over, kick that sorry pile to the curb. If she couldn't do it for herself, then what about as an example to her daughter of what NOT to take from a man.
How does this relate to you? Because I am a firm believer that marriage vows are only valid when both parties adhere to them. Marriage may have been created as a lopsided biblical institution designed to enslave women, provide for their economic survival, and offer them protection from roaming bands of wolves, but it's not that anymore. It's a partnership. Takes two to tango, etc. I don't know what your marriage vows contained, but mine did not say, "I promise to take whatever shit you can dish out, allow you to call me names, drive you around so you can get shit-faced when I'm 15-months pregnant, give you all my money to buy darts, clean up your crusty blue underwear, and accept racist and bigoted behavior from your family."
If you did happen to state those vows, then I guess you're screwed. But if you went with the usual "love, honor, respect" thing, then you're free and clear.
So please know that you are doing the right thing. You are doing the only viable thing. You are doing the strong thing. You are doing the sensible thing. You are doing the motherly thing. And we got your back.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Oy, Sensei
Looks like things are going very well for Booper and his martial arts career. He is enthralled with it and looks forward to attending class. The Caboose is a little less enamored, so we're going to push pause for him and let The Boop just do his thing.
But wanna hear the funny part? Today, during my personal training session with Sensei, I learned that he is Jewish. From New York. Bar Mitzvah and everything. He told me he is adopted, which is why he doesn't look Jewish, but he was raised by Jews and considers himself Jewish. Leave it to me to find the only Jewish Martial Arts instructor in all of SF.
I think he is living with the woman who works the front desk. She is half-Korean, half-Chinese, and was telling me how beautiful she thinks Hapa children are. (She was tactful enough to use the word "mixed.") Who knows....maybe there is some Hapa in her future? And for Booper, maybe Hapa is the new black belt.
Ooos!
But wanna hear the funny part? Today, during my personal training session with Sensei, I learned that he is Jewish. From New York. Bar Mitzvah and everything. He told me he is adopted, which is why he doesn't look Jewish, but he was raised by Jews and considers himself Jewish. Leave it to me to find the only Jewish Martial Arts instructor in all of SF.
I think he is living with the woman who works the front desk. She is half-Korean, half-Chinese, and was telling me how beautiful she thinks Hapa children are. (She was tactful enough to use the word "mixed.") Who knows....maybe there is some Hapa in her future? And for Booper, maybe Hapa is the new black belt.
Ooos!
Friday, January 25, 2008
From Southern Voice
I'm still not able to put my thoughts into words regarding my friend Max. So I am pasting in a recent profile published in Southern Voice in Atlanta. Max was all about spreading his story, so please indulge me in helping him achieve this goal.
I will be dying soon; when is anybody’s guess. This sucks, of course, totally. But I am content. I look at my life and am satisfied — and that’s saying a lot. A definition of successful, even. I count myself lucky. Blessed. Full. Rich.” — Max Beck, Dec. 31, 2007
On Jan. 12, less than two weeks after Joseph Maxfield Beck, known to everyone as Max, wrote this final entry in his blog, he succumbed to cancer, at home and surrounded by those who loved him. And despite the pain he suffered from chemo, radiation, side effects of powerful drugs and just being sick all the time, he never lost his spirit, said his wife, Tamara Beck.
“He was diagnosed in March 2005 and it was stage four then,” she said this week, seated on the couch in her Grant Park home. “He was such a fighter. He said, ‘I’ll be the miracle case.’”
Beck, who was born intersexed and lived most of his life as a woman, was 41 when he died of vaginal cancer. He is survived by his family, including his wife, 7-year-old daughter and 2-year-old son.“My family speaks for itself. Something I never even thought I would, or could, have," Beck wrote in his final blog entry. "I found my soul mate, and she dragged me kicking and screaming into marriage and fatherhood. Kicking and screaming, and I am so glad that she did, for my children are the center of my world, a miracle of noise and laughter and mayhem of which I am so proud and — every day — in breathless amazement.”'
UNFINISHED GIRL'
Arriving home from school during this interview, Beck's daughter introduced herself, then announced, “Daddy’s not here."
Tamara explained to her precocious child with an affinity for dinosaurs that daddy was going to be in the newspaper. “He would have liked that,” said Tamara, who serves as the Grant Park playgroup liaison.
Max wasn’t a stranger to publicity and felt telling his story was a form of activism, Tamara said.He was interviewed by CNN’s Anderson Cooper in 2005, featured on The Learning Channel, profiled on the HBO documentary “Middle Sexes” and appeared on the PBS series Nova.
Max unabashedly told his story of being intersexed to not only reporters, but to young people facing the same struggle and doctors who have intersex patients. One of his passions was working with the Intersex Society of North America (www.isna.org).
Max very frankly discussed his experience of being raised a girl named Judy — an “unfinished girl” the doctors explained when she was a preteen undergoing hormone therapy and eventually genital surgery.
At the time, Tamara said, doctors believed in assigning most children born with ambiguous genitalia as girls because, and she quoted one doctor, “It’s easier to make a hole than build a pole.”Judy eventually married a man, but decided she was a butch lesbian when she fell head-over-heels in love with Tamara in 1992 after the two met in college in Pennsylvania.
When Judy told Tamara that she had a “horrible” secret, Tamara said, ironically, she feared Judy had cancer.
But when Judy — and Tamara is careful to talk about Judy and Max as they were, actually, two different people — told Tamara her “shameful secret,” Tamara said she told Judy it didn’t matter “because I love you.”
“The horrible thing of it was this amazing person was carrying around this enormous secret alone,” Tamara said.“She was and he was the most interesting person I met. He was incredibly deep, able to see beyond the banter to the important stuff,” Tamara added. “Everybody liked him. He had charisma. He had a genuine way of relating to people that was refreshing and surprising."
There is a match to your rough edges, Tamara explained, and Max was that to her. “That was my person,” she said. “He was the person who loved me unconditionally. We had a deep knowledge of each other. I was very lucky — I suspect most people don’t have that.”
FROM JUDY TO MAX
Max Beck found out about being intersex by accident when he sent off for vaccination records needed for a job. His childhood medical records showed he was a “male pseudo hermaphrodite.” Never completely comfortable as a woman, Judy began pondering becoming a man.
It was at an Atlanta Feminist Women’s Chorus concert, when they both went to the women’s restroom and were looked at by other lesbians as “some strange heterosexual couple,” that the couple decided to make serious changes. “That was an eye-opening experience,” Tamara said. “Even among our own we were different.”
Judy changed her name legally to Max and in 1998 started taking testosterone. A visit to the DMV for a driver’s license renewal resulted in a happy accident when a customer service employee took one look at Max and replaced the “F” with an “M” on his license. With that official designation, the two were able to legally marry in 2000.
At the time the couple got together, Tamara said she identified as a lesbian. But by staying with Judy and then Max, her love never faltering, she admitted she doesn’t really know how to classify herself.
“Does that make me the ultimate bisexual?” she asked.
Max never identified as a man, but if society gives you two boxes and male is how you are going to present, then a male you are, Tamara said.
“He did have some guilt about passing and the social privilege,” she said. “But just seeing him change from Judy to Max … there were subtle changes, but some of it was very core,” she said.
The couple never hid from their children, conceived with the help of donor sperm, that at one time daddy was a girl; photos of Judy and Tamara together still line the hallway of their home. To their daughter, the anguish her father suffered as a girl was simply “doctors being mean to daddy,” Tamara said.
For Max, gender was never simply either-or, she added. “He maintained a fluid identity where gender was concerned. Even when we were lesbians, he wanted to be the father,” she said.
As a man with vaginal cancer, Max Beck did not have a built-in support system to deal with this specific issue. A friend suggested he contact the Atlanta Lesbian Health Initiative, and there he found a small, intimate and close group to share his feelings, said ALHI Executive Director Linda Ellis.
LIVING WITH CANCER
“He called us because there was no one else to call,” Ellis said. “It took some conversations to explain and educate folks, but there was never a question [whether] he was welcome.”Ellis came to know Beck as a man whose wife and children were the most important things to him.
“Max had the amazing ability to take what life handed him and build a life out of it,” she said.“There are parts of his story that at first you want to gawk at, like a car accident. And every time a new person came to the group, he had to come out again every time,” she said, “but he did it with incredible grace.”
Ellis described his life as a “radical nature of normalcy.” Not only did he devote his life to his family, he was a recent graduate of the Rollins School of Public Health at Emory University. By simply being who he was, he set an example for all of us, Ellis added.
“I want people to know Max’s story,” she said. “He lived life openly and with grace — and that is my best hope for all of us.”
The ALHI cancer support group continues to meet the first and third Thursday of every month, Ellis said.
“I'm content, I suppose, despite what can only be described as a raw deal, because, in retrospect, I discover I have lived a meaningful life. I have to confess, this wasn't something I planned...it just sort of, well, happened. But it did, leaving me and, I like to think, all of you, the richer.” — Max Beck
I will be dying soon; when is anybody’s guess. This sucks, of course, totally. But I am content. I look at my life and am satisfied — and that’s saying a lot. A definition of successful, even. I count myself lucky. Blessed. Full. Rich.” — Max Beck, Dec. 31, 2007
On Jan. 12, less than two weeks after Joseph Maxfield Beck, known to everyone as Max, wrote this final entry in his blog, he succumbed to cancer, at home and surrounded by those who loved him. And despite the pain he suffered from chemo, radiation, side effects of powerful drugs and just being sick all the time, he never lost his spirit, said his wife, Tamara Beck.
“He was diagnosed in March 2005 and it was stage four then,” she said this week, seated on the couch in her Grant Park home. “He was such a fighter. He said, ‘I’ll be the miracle case.’”
Beck, who was born intersexed and lived most of his life as a woman, was 41 when he died of vaginal cancer. He is survived by his family, including his wife, 7-year-old daughter and 2-year-old son.“My family speaks for itself. Something I never even thought I would, or could, have," Beck wrote in his final blog entry. "I found my soul mate, and she dragged me kicking and screaming into marriage and fatherhood. Kicking and screaming, and I am so glad that she did, for my children are the center of my world, a miracle of noise and laughter and mayhem of which I am so proud and — every day — in breathless amazement.”'
UNFINISHED GIRL'
Arriving home from school during this interview, Beck's daughter introduced herself, then announced, “Daddy’s not here."
Tamara explained to her precocious child with an affinity for dinosaurs that daddy was going to be in the newspaper. “He would have liked that,” said Tamara, who serves as the Grant Park playgroup liaison.
Max wasn’t a stranger to publicity and felt telling his story was a form of activism, Tamara said.He was interviewed by CNN’s Anderson Cooper in 2005, featured on The Learning Channel, profiled on the HBO documentary “Middle Sexes” and appeared on the PBS series Nova.
Max unabashedly told his story of being intersexed to not only reporters, but to young people facing the same struggle and doctors who have intersex patients. One of his passions was working with the Intersex Society of North America (www.isna.org).
Max very frankly discussed his experience of being raised a girl named Judy — an “unfinished girl” the doctors explained when she was a preteen undergoing hormone therapy and eventually genital surgery.
At the time, Tamara said, doctors believed in assigning most children born with ambiguous genitalia as girls because, and she quoted one doctor, “It’s easier to make a hole than build a pole.”Judy eventually married a man, but decided she was a butch lesbian when she fell head-over-heels in love with Tamara in 1992 after the two met in college in Pennsylvania.
When Judy told Tamara that she had a “horrible” secret, Tamara said, ironically, she feared Judy had cancer.
But when Judy — and Tamara is careful to talk about Judy and Max as they were, actually, two different people — told Tamara her “shameful secret,” Tamara said she told Judy it didn’t matter “because I love you.”
“The horrible thing of it was this amazing person was carrying around this enormous secret alone,” Tamara said.“She was and he was the most interesting person I met. He was incredibly deep, able to see beyond the banter to the important stuff,” Tamara added. “Everybody liked him. He had charisma. He had a genuine way of relating to people that was refreshing and surprising."
There is a match to your rough edges, Tamara explained, and Max was that to her. “That was my person,” she said. “He was the person who loved me unconditionally. We had a deep knowledge of each other. I was very lucky — I suspect most people don’t have that.”
FROM JUDY TO MAX
Max Beck found out about being intersex by accident when he sent off for vaccination records needed for a job. His childhood medical records showed he was a “male pseudo hermaphrodite.” Never completely comfortable as a woman, Judy began pondering becoming a man.
It was at an Atlanta Feminist Women’s Chorus concert, when they both went to the women’s restroom and were looked at by other lesbians as “some strange heterosexual couple,” that the couple decided to make serious changes. “That was an eye-opening experience,” Tamara said. “Even among our own we were different.”
Judy changed her name legally to Max and in 1998 started taking testosterone. A visit to the DMV for a driver’s license renewal resulted in a happy accident when a customer service employee took one look at Max and replaced the “F” with an “M” on his license. With that official designation, the two were able to legally marry in 2000.
At the time the couple got together, Tamara said she identified as a lesbian. But by staying with Judy and then Max, her love never faltering, she admitted she doesn’t really know how to classify herself.
“Does that make me the ultimate bisexual?” she asked.
Max never identified as a man, but if society gives you two boxes and male is how you are going to present, then a male you are, Tamara said.
“He did have some guilt about passing and the social privilege,” she said. “But just seeing him change from Judy to Max … there were subtle changes, but some of it was very core,” she said.
The couple never hid from their children, conceived with the help of donor sperm, that at one time daddy was a girl; photos of Judy and Tamara together still line the hallway of their home. To their daughter, the anguish her father suffered as a girl was simply “doctors being mean to daddy,” Tamara said.
For Max, gender was never simply either-or, she added. “He maintained a fluid identity where gender was concerned. Even when we were lesbians, he wanted to be the father,” she said.
As a man with vaginal cancer, Max Beck did not have a built-in support system to deal with this specific issue. A friend suggested he contact the Atlanta Lesbian Health Initiative, and there he found a small, intimate and close group to share his feelings, said ALHI Executive Director Linda Ellis.
LIVING WITH CANCER
“He called us because there was no one else to call,” Ellis said. “It took some conversations to explain and educate folks, but there was never a question [whether] he was welcome.”Ellis came to know Beck as a man whose wife and children were the most important things to him.
“Max had the amazing ability to take what life handed him and build a life out of it,” she said.“There are parts of his story that at first you want to gawk at, like a car accident. And every time a new person came to the group, he had to come out again every time,” she said, “but he did it with incredible grace.”
Ellis described his life as a “radical nature of normalcy.” Not only did he devote his life to his family, he was a recent graduate of the Rollins School of Public Health at Emory University. By simply being who he was, he set an example for all of us, Ellis added.
“I want people to know Max’s story,” she said. “He lived life openly and with grace — and that is my best hope for all of us.”
The ALHI cancer support group continues to meet the first and third Thursday of every month, Ellis said.
“I'm content, I suppose, despite what can only be described as a raw deal, because, in retrospect, I discover I have lived a meaningful life. I have to confess, this wasn't something I planned...it just sort of, well, happened. But it did, leaving me and, I like to think, all of you, the richer.” — Max Beck
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