Maria Marchinkoski

I had hidden everything. Monitors were not allowed to talk about themselves with residents. We could lose pay, placement, and good standing. You can find me in the DSM, I said.

We have no tradition, she said. What could we say to the dead except that we’re sorry for living? No, we confuse people too much already. How much more could they take? They hear “transsexual” and want us to prove it. They want weeping in front of mirrors. They want heartfelt confessions with parents on the couch. They will never take you seriously or consider you normal. They want hand-me-down emotions.