Michael’s Story or the Paradox of Normalcy

I was born in Montreal in 1974. My parents were both “older.” My mother was almost 45; my father was in his 50’s. I have a sister who is six years older than me. What I know about my mother’s prenatal care is that it was quite basic.

I was premature. My mother’s due date was in mid–August, however I showed up about three weeks earlier. I know that initially upon my birth I was declared male. However, upon closer examination, a few “abnormalities” of my genitals were found. I urinated through a small hole at the base of my penis; adjacent to this hole was another opening, barely big enough for a Q–tip. My scrotum was empty; my gonads had not descended.

The doctors who examined me decided that they could not assign a gender without further testing. They told my mother I would need to remain in the hospital until such testing was completed. Apparently not being able to determine sex/gender is a life–threatening condition that requires hospitalization.

It was determined that I had a uterus and it was presumed that my undescended gonads were ovaries (not verified by biopsy). There was a small vaginal opening behind my small urethral opening. Structures such as the labia were not developed. I found out later my vagina had fistulated into both my urethra and my perineum. Karyotyping was performed resulting in 46,XX with a diagnosis of female pseudo–hermaphroditism. My parents were informed that in spite of my external genitalia I was female and I would never develop as a male. I would require “corrective surgeries” which should be performed as soon as possible so I would not have any issues with my gender identity. They were even told that I would be able to become pregnant if I had the surgeries. In fact, I never ovulated and I have a small unicornuate uterus.

My father refused all surgeries on my behalf most likely because he was a full–blooded Navajo who had suffered from abuse in an Indian boarding school during his childhood in New Mexico. His family was traditional, and because they didn’t adapt to prevailing Christian values, he and several of his siblings were removed from their parents. My dad was the oldest of 12 children and by the time his youngest siblings were born, the practice to take children away from their families had been changed.

I think my father was deeply traumatized by his childhood and did not associate much with his family, nor did he want to visit the reservation. He spoke the language but never encouraged us to learn it. He did teach us some of the traditions. He told me about the nadleh, which is the other gender besides male and female in the Navajo tradition. There are two kinds of nadleh, which are almost like male–to–female and female–to–male transsexuals. Mostly I educated myself later and learned about the Navajo belief system in which the creation story is an important part. In the Navajo tradition, the creation story tells of First Man and First Woman; the first children born to them are the Hermaphrodite Twins.

My father was a US Army Master Sergeant, which was an unusual career for a man of his origins; he was a veteran of the Second World War. After he left the army he took his family to Montreal where he had a job in security. I think he preferred to live outside the U.S. He used to say that in Germany, where he had managed to stay for a long time while serving in the Army, he was just another American soldier. In spite of his career, he had a deep mistrust for “white people.” I remember he used to say that he was in the Army because this was his country long before the white people came and he loved it. He did not love the people who governed it. All this very much played into the decision not to listen to the doctors’ recommendations about surgery. My...