Andrew, an incredible spoken word poem by Andrea Gibson. There’s a transcription here; here’s a taste:
When I was a kid I would sometimes secretly call myself Andrew. Would tug at the crotch of my pants the way only pubescent boys do, ran around pounding on my bare chest like Tarzan. It’s not that I thought I’d grow up to be a man; I just never thought that I’d grow up to be a woman either. From what I could tell neither of those categories fit me, but believe me, I knew from a very young age never to say “Hey dad, this Adam or Eve thing isn’t working for me; I mean, what about all the kinds of people in between?” (…)
I wanna grow into something none of us has ever seen before, and gender is just one of the ways we’re boxed in and labeled, before we’re ever able to speak who we dream we are, who we believe we’ll become, like drumbeats ever changing their rhythm. I am living today as someone I had not yet become yesterday, and tonight I will borrow only pieces of who I was today to carry with me to tomorrow.
I respect Andrea Gibson a lot and this is amazing.
