This is hilarious! And so typical… I’m going to guess that at the moment I was partially amused, partially happy (to have passed) and partially confused (what did this mean about me). Throughout my childhood, things like this happened and it did feel like the universe giving me an affirmation of who I was. Sometimes it embarrassed me, more often it embarrassed the people around me, and sometimes it embarrassed the person who made the “mistake.” Substitute teachers at school were the worst on this score!

I felt frustrated and defensive on your behalf and thought the nurse was a complete moron. But now I wonder- when she made that mistake – were you actually happy that you had “passed” as a boy Or were you not there yet in your journey Etc etc.

Hi Amy,

Great to hear from you! Let me try and elaborate on that thought… I feel that, as a man, there are two forces that change how athleticism is viewed. First, it is more of an expectation. If you aren’t athletic, it’s a failing. That’s different from how it felt as a woman: it was an option. Second, as a man, athleticism feels tied to status (and sexuality) in a way that it didn’t as a woman. Being an athlete in high school or college, as a man, feels to me like it is linked to popularity or success, in a way that is “zero sum.” Being successful as a man in athletics often feels to me like it hinges on someone else being unsuccessful. Less than. Again, when I was a woman and competing in athletics, there felt like there were lots of other ways that were equally validated to be “successful” or have social status (and, sometimes, being an athlete was a negative!)… and, my success seldom felt like it came at the cost of someone else (try-outs and games excepted). Does that make sense?

So good to hear from you! I learned a lot from you in English class (and jug band). In my forthcoming novel, Continental Divide, you’ll see I paid you a small homage… the protagonist’s name is Ron Bancroft!

I think ticks like spice, unfortunately.

Will do!