We are in an age where medical technology explains what was unexplainable.  My desire is people will think of new possibilities instead of jumping to old outdated conclusions.

Gender flap South African runner Caster Semenya will keep gold medal

BY NATHANIEL VINTON

DAILY NEWS SPORTS WRITER

Originally Published: Thursday, November 19th 2009, 11:56 AM

Updated: Thursday, November 19th 2009, 3:07 PM

South Africa’s Caster Semenya celebrates after winning the women’s 800m final race of the 2009 IAAF Athletics World Championships.

South African runner Caster Semenya, whose gender identity became the subject of intense scrutiny this summer, will keep her world championship gold medal and prize money, according to a statement released Thursday by her nation’s sport ministry.

The ministry also said results of gender tests conducted on Semenya – which reportedly revealed that the 18-year-old had both male and female sex organs – will remain officially confidential.

“Whatever scientific tests were conducted legally within the IAAF regulations will be treated as a confidential matter between patient and doctor,” said a statement posted on the organization’s Web site. “As such there will be no public announcement of what the panel of scientists has found. We urge all South Africans and other people to respect this professional ethical and moral way of doing things.”

The International Association of Athletics Federations, which governs track and field worldwide, has said as recently as Wednesday that gender tests were not complete and that it will not comment on the matter. (The Monaco-based IAAF has maintained it was not the source of leaks about Semenya.)

Semenya’s unusual case leaped to the world’s attention in August, when, prior to the 800-meter final in Berlin, the IAAF disclosed it had ordered gender tests based on Semenya’s muscular physique and sudden improvement results. In the wake of the controversy, bitter arguments played out between various governing bodies of the sport over how the confidentiality of the tests was compromised.

According to the sports ministry’s statement, the organization asked the IAAF to apologize for the way the case was handled, and received a terse response: “It is deeply regrettable that information of a confidential nature entered the public domain,” the group said, according to the release.

In September, Australian newspapers reported that Semenya has male and female sexual organs. It was also revealed that a top South African track-and-field official, Leonard Chuene, had misleadingly claimed that his group, Athletics South Africa, had not conducted an investigation of its own prior to the world championships.

Caster was born without a womb or ovaries and her testosterone levels were more than 3 times higher than what is considered normal for a female, according to the reported tests.  The tests were ordered by The International Association of Athletes Federations and she was determined a hermaphrodite, now known as intersex.  Intersex people have both male and female organs.

Caster has been advised to have surgery to correct the potentially deadly condition.  Semenya’s  internal testes produce the male hormone, testosterone. Testosterone is the hormone responsible for building muscles and for producing body hair and a deep voice.  This is the case of Castor Semenya.

Caster’s country of South Africa are proud of  her, and call her, “our girl.”  Caster’s own thoughts and comments are healthy for a young 18-year-old who has been literally examined from head to toe, inside and out.  She said, “God made me the way I am and I accept myself.  I am who I am and I am proud of myself.  I do not want to talk about the tests.  I’m not even thinking about them.”  Caster told this to, You magazine, which ran an article about her situation.

Personally, I am relieved for Caster.  Her plight is coming to a conclusion.  She has been put through a usually very private situation for the whole world to examine.  Now we will wait to see if she will be allowed to keep her title.  I am proud of her, she has chosen to keep her dignity through such scrutiny.

He decorated it to perfection with treasures of his worldwide travels. The eclectic feel is warm and inviting with the colors of warm gold, china reds and glazed deep greens. His guests will glide through his place with ease and comfort through his study of Feng Shui design.

We had a delightful evening. I made some of his favorite foods for his enjoyment. Heath Bar Coffee Cake, Spinach dip with a variety of freshly sliced vegetables for dipping, spiced rice, and lightly marinated thick rib eye steaks. I also made freshly rolled enchiladas for later in the week.  His father brought the Pinot Noir wine, and fresh baked bread. We realized Aaron had the typical supplied refrigerator for a guy his age moving into his own place, beer and cold pizza.  He did not have butter; so his dad was delighted to run across to the urban downtown market for butter, and olive oil for dipping.

Aaron had some of his favorite dinner music playing softly in the background; scattered lit candles flickered in the cool breeze of his partially opened 12th floor windows.  His computer smoothly ran photos of his exotic trips to far away lands, mixed with close friends, family and accomplishments.

So, why do I still let unbecoming words and thoughts spill from my mouth and run through my head? When I first saw Aaron he was wearing a bright hot pink zip up hoodie, hip hugger jeans and pink undershorts peaking out the top. I said, “Well, there is my daughter!” just as Aaron walked up to our car to great us.  He did not hear me speak these words.  I spoke them to my husband just as Aaron approached our car to greet us.

I complimented his loft and reaching his goals so early in life. Yet, I also made notice of the picture of Aaron and his fiancé from several years ago. She has since married another because Aaron “came out” before the marriage took place. Yet, their engagement picture still sits center stage as guests walk into his new place.  I wondered why he placed it there. Was it because it was a life not to be, but somewhere in his complex mind he still dreamed of the white picket fence?  Did the one framed photo capture a place in time of such a possibility?

He reached his dreams so early, he has a wonderful life, yet he is lonely. I cried all the way home after our wonderful visit.

What is wrong with me? Why do such things come from my mouth? I hate myself for saying them. Why do I think them? Why do I still cry?

Maybe next time, maybe next time will be easier.

He asked me to be on his facebook.  I was not sure if I could handle it.  I  thought after 5 years of knowing he is for sure gay, if not intersex, surely I could emotionally handle his facebook.  I looked through his facebook and it was all about him, his life, after he left our home and went to college.  There were pictures I had never seen.

We gave him a big graduation party and toward the end of the party we played a show of Aaron’s life set to music.   I had spent days going through pictures of his life growing up from birth until his high school graduation.  The whole time I was going through the photos I cried, because the son I raised was going off to be on his own.

These pictures in which I was now staring, were pictures of him after he left home, went away to college, set off on his career, and life.  I cried then also, this time because the two lives were so different.  I wondered did he like the life we provided for him growing up?  Why had he seemed to change so much?  Was he always that person in the second set of pictures, but I just did not see it?  Did he love me as a mother?  Did I do a good job in his eyes?  All those questions and more filled my head.

I just wanted to share with you, if you catch yourself feeling these feelings I just shared, you are not alone.  I have come to the conclusion I may never understand human sexuality.  I have to remind myself a person’s sexuality is such a small part of the individual.

Some days you read my blog and think I have it all together as a mom…no…not everyday. Some days I just can’t deal.

Then my son “came out.”  He was gay and it spread by gossip through the church like wildfire.  My husband and I were shunned from our church.  I will not say the denomination, but it would not be a denomination a person would expect to practice shunning.   I was no longer the Sunday school teacher.  No one called me.  My husband had been on the board, but since he “could not keep his own house in order, he was also shunned.”  My husband went to the grocery store and he saw the preacher from our former church.  The preacher saw my husband, he turned and walked the other direction.  All the years we had helped others because we thought it was the way Christians were to be towards each other, to help and support each other in time of need.  We left that church.

We tried church after church.  Sunday after Sunday, the subject of homosexuality was preached from the pulpit.  The pastors of the churches blamed parents of homosexuals, saying, “Parents raised their gay children incorrectly.”

My husband played college football, a defensive tackle.  He taught our son how to play.  Our son won a state football ring.  Our son was in boy scouts, Tae Kwon Do, basketball, and a swimmer.  My husband helped him with all his sports and took him to his practices.  He was the one who had the sex talk with our son. He would visit Aaron’s teachers and check in with them to inquire how Aaron was doing in school.  Aaron’s dad was there for him anytime Aaron needed him and still is there for him.  He was a very involved father.  I was an involved mother.  I was a home room mother, we all ate dinner together, with the TV off.  We prayed together before dinner and we would pray together many times when we knew someone needed prayer.  Christians have a saying, “Families who pray together, stay together.”  Our son went to Christian schools, from pre-school through college.  Aaron said he started having sexual feelings about the same-sex about the age of 14.  He fought it.   He also dated the prettiest, and most popular girls of his class.  He dated the head cheerleader, the homecoming queen; all of the girls were adorable.  When he came home from his dates and we would ask how it went he would respond by saying, “fine.”  But his tone was flat.  He would head to bed and my husband would say, “What is going on with Aaron?”  He dates the best looking girls around and it seems like he is not interested.”  It was true, he was not, he was gay and fighting it and we had no idea. We thought after the surgeries, it would all be O.K.  We did not understand homosexuality.  It did not matter how good-looking a person was on the outside, or the “plastic surgery” to make sure the top parts were in conjunction with the bottom half of the body.  We thought God was going to take care of everything.  We prayed everyday…without ceasing.

I would pray my son’s wife was having a great day, when my son was a year old.  I would pray, “Lord, I do not know yet if my son’s wife has yet been born.   If she has been born, I pray she is having a good day.  I pray her parents are good to her and I pray they realize what a blessing she is to them.”  I prayed that prayer every day, many times a day until the day, I found out my son was gay.  Those prayers stopped.  Do you know why they stopped?  Because by the time I stopped praying those prayers…somewhere deep inside, I knew he was gay or intersex.  There was something different.

I needed a church and true friends now more than I had ever needed them.  I had been the friend to people who were crying like I was crying; hurting like I was hurting. I needed someone to hold my hand and pray with me for peace.  I needed it.  Guess what, when it was time I needed someone…no one was there.  Homosexuality is off-limits in the church.  I prayed with parents of strippers, grand larceny thieves, drug dealers, rapists, murders and I could go on and on and on….when I needed prayer or comfort, not one person was there for us.  Not only were they not there, we were shunned.

I am not sure if any of you have been shunned.  I will have to say, it is the worst feeling I have experienced.  God did not want his children practicing this behavior.  God has not shunned us.  I wondered when we pass this world and we meet our Maker, so to speak.  I wonder what our dialogue will be like between the two of us.  Remember, we will not have a church backing us with their belief systems then.  It will be between our own self and God.  When he asks us, “Did I leave you when you were stripping and dancing the poles without clothes in front of men? If you are a man who watched those girls, what will God ask you?  He has already told us in His Word; I was always there for you.  I can imagine Him saying “Then why did you place yourself in a position of judgment to judge others? “

I had an old friend call me this afternoon and ask me about church.  I told her, I had not been in over 5 years.  She literally did not believe me.  I told her church was different where I live now.  That is true, church is different where I live now.  I did not want to bring someone else down and let her know, the body of Christ has set itself up to be little gods, making judgments of others who God Himself said He would judge and we as humans were not given that authority.  People of God, I now pray for all of us.  I pray for us to follow Christ’s most important commandment, “Love one another.”  I pray it for you and I pray it for me.

We were analyzing the lunch menu and discussing the item each one decided to order.  Our conversation was light and friendly.  We were close, and enjoyed our time together.  All dressed in summer day wear, neatly put together for a family day of fun.  We had made our final lunch selections when the waitress walked up to our table and asked, “What can I get you ladies this afternoon?”  The waitress was not rude, she was simply asking a question which she had asked many patrons before and in her mind had no reason to know those words with stay with us forever.

The waitress stared at us waiting for our order response, as we all remained silent.  I am sure we each had our own thoughts of what we were hearing and what we would do with this very uncomfortable question.  The waitress had no idea why she was looking at three blank faces and no response to her question.  The awkward silence, broken by my bold, protective sister emphasized my frozen state. I glanced at my son to notice a tear sliding down his soft cheek.  “We are leaving and I am calling Gavin, my hairdresser.”  My sister spoke loud and decisively.  She was already on her feet, I followed her lead and Aaron trailed behind leaving a very shocked and confused waitress.

We had barely cleared the restaurant doors and my sister already had her cell phone in her hand placing the call.  We could hear her sharp demands as she spoke to the person on the other end of the call.  “I need to bring my nephew in for a haircut… no today…a military cut.  OK 2:00.”  I stood in shock unable to make a decision, and let my sister take over what I, as Aaron’s mother should have been able to do easily.

Aaron was a cute boy in his younger grade school years, and then he along with his classmates went through the gangly 4^thand 5^th grade years together.  Slowly, Aaron physically began to change towards the beginning of the sixth grade.  He had a different stance than the other boys, his voice was high pitched, and he had a peaches and cream completion I would love to attain.  His hair was not long; it was cut in a boy’s hairstyle.  The clothes he wore that day was what most boys would wear, blue jeans, polo shirt and tennis shoes. However, women in society today, may wear the exact same clothing as men. The hairstyle along with his 5’8” soft body frame and feminine features, made him look like what the waitress said, a lady.

Aaron did not speak.  I think if he said one word the floodgates would open with his tears.  We seated ourselves in my sister’s car, which would be a short in distance, yet a very long emotional drive.

We reached the hairdresser’s shop.  My sister had taken over completely by this point.  Everything I had feared and all I prayed against were rolling out in theater form before my very eyes.  My sister did not know my husband’s and my behind the closed door secret conversations of concern.  She most likely had been thinking something needed to be addressed, but it had not been discussed openly among the family. She had taken action so quickly; it was if she had already thought this through in advance.  We never spoke of the changes we obliviously saw taking place with Aaron.   My sister placed her arm around my son, and marched him into the shop.  I remained in the car alone, now I could cry.  I did not want my sister see me break and I did not want my son to know I was concerned about his adolescent development.

The haircut did not take long, and my sister emerged cheering gleefully with my smiling son.  His hair had been buzzed short up both sides and the top of his hair was shaped in a strong military flat top. Looking back, I think both of them thought this would solve all Aaron’s problems concerning his physical appearance.  I was relieved they were both temporarily happy.  I knew a haircut would not solve Aaron’s situation.

My career and education was in the medical industry.  I worked for a large pharmaceutical corporation and my job entailed working directly with Endocrinologists, doctors who study the endocrine system, genetics and hormones.  I studied the endocrine system many years and I innately knew we had a long road ahead of us.  The haircut finalized the day for my sister and my son with a happy note.  I knew it was just the beginning for our small family.

We would chaperone field trips; organize events, and special parties.  We enjoyed the planning, organizing and entertaining of the Christmas party the most.  The kids were energetic this time of year.  Many of the children still believed in Santa Clause and because it was a Christian private school we celebrated the birth of Jesus.  We played holiday music, plated homemade cookies and baked goods, and decorated the room with the bright colors of Christmas.

This particular year our son was in the first grade.  We decided the theme of this holiday party would be planned around the Hispanic customs and celebration of Christmas.  My husband and I had resolved before we had enrolled our son in school, we wanted him to attend a racially diverse Christian school.  Monetarily we could have sent him to any school we chose.  We knew Aaron would grow up in a new diverse America.   We wanted him to recognize, and enjoy other people’s culture early in life.  We felt this would help him when entering society on his own.  Little did we know how important our decision would be later in his life.

I choose a colorful paper mâché piñata and stuffed it with candy and small toys.  Choosing all the ornaments, decorations and ethnic food was so much fun and educational for me too.  My husband and I brought all the party goods into the classroom, and as soon as the children laid eyes on the piñata, they went wild with excitement.  We live in Texas and the children knew a piñata would be stuffed with their favorite confections.

My colossal 6’8” husband hung the piñata with its thin rope-like cord to the ceiling with ease. The children were jumping, dancing and shouting with glee.  The excitement grew when my husband brought out the long wooden stick, each blindfolded child would take the stick and try to break open the piñata, spilling out it’s eagerly anticipated sweets and trinkets

We were both so busy organizing the tables, decorating the room and the excitement of hanging the piñata, we did not notice our timid son, plastered against one corner of the room.  My husband handed a young boy the stick first and then blindfolded him.  He took a powerful swing, but with disappointment, missed.  Then a little girl came forward and the process repeated itself.  This continued and many children had their chance trying to break the popular piñata.  Then it happened, the anticipated swing that broke the piñata sending the candy and other bounty throughout the room.   All the children bounced with open arms, gathering as much treasure as possible.  All the children were scrambling but one, ours.  My husband and I both instinctively looked for Aaron.  We had falsely made the assumption Aaron would be in the thick of the other children.  Our hearts sank as we noticed him almost clutching the cement block schoolhouse wall. He did not move, he just watched as all the other children gathered every last fortune.  We did not say a word, but our eyes locked on each others and we knew something was not right.  We were both outgoing, social people and we had no idea how to handle something we did not understand.

The school year progressed and our senses were heightened, watching our son develop through his first grade year.  My husband and I would talk to each other, when no one else could hear.  Aaron’s grades where the highest of the boys in class, he certainly was the tallest.  He was the youngest, so we determined his tentative nature was do to his age difference.

The Parent/Teacher end of the year conferences were approaching.  My husband and I had decided it might be best if we at least discussed with Aaron’s teacher the possibility of holding him back a year.  We thought this would give him time to socially adapt with the rest of his schoolmates.  We did know this may cause a problem in the other two areas where he excelled.  He would be bored going over work he had already completed the year before, and he would tower over the other children in his class.

We were inexperienced parents anxiously waiting for the advice of a very qualified and experienced teacher.  We walked into Mrs. Carrollton’s 1^st grade room.  She happily greeted us and at first notice appeared as if she had no concerns.  My husband and I had different feelings.  We took our seats across her desk, scattered with our son’s assignments, homework and grades.  She covered all of his talented academic achievements and we sensed the close and completion of our meeting.  My husband spoke up and approached Mrs. Carrollton with our idea of holding Aaron back another year due to our perception of Aaron’s lack of social skills.  Her mouth literally dropped open.  She was obviously shocked at our analogy of our child’s social abilities.

We will never forget what she told us next.  It was our first changing moment in our expectations of Aaron.  She said, “I have two sons.  One is just like Aaron; the other is like all the other boys in the room.  They are both in their twenties now.    My son, who is like Aaron, was just like Aaron in the first grade and he is the same in his twenties.  My other son, was like the rest of the boys in this classroom and he is still has the same personality in his twenty’s. This is who Aaron is; he will always be this way.”  We were a little embarrassed of our impressions of Aaron. She went on to say, “Why would you hold back the smartest and tallest child in my classroom?  Next year, he would be bored and more than a head taller than the rest of the boys.  That would further set him apart.”  How ignorant we were.

I thought we would have to work harder with him on his social skills, so he would fit into society as an adult.  Aaron was very sensitive and we did not want to break his spirit.  We did not think, sensitive was a bad thing.  When he came home from school crying because the teacher had read, “Where the Red Fern Grows” he told us of how sad the story was, and how he tried but could not hold back his tears and he knew because of the year before, all the kids had turned around in their chairs to wait for his tears to well.  I could not control his tears, but my heart broke for him.

He walked normally, but he walked with his lower arms slightly limp and his hands dangled freely at the wrist.  The first time in my life, homophobic thoughts came into play.  How do you tell your 1^st grade son, “Please do not walk with your hands that way, it makes you look gay?”  I was not going to word it that way, but I was afraid.  I can honestly say it was the first time, the thought my son may “end up” gay if we do not do something.

This is how I thought I would gently talk to my son about the way he was holding his hands; I would make it a game.  I, in a good-natured laughingly way, said to Aaron, “Aaron, why are you walking like T Rex?”  My son loved dinosaurs.  He looked down at his hands and we both laughed.  He replied, “It does look like T Rex and I did not know I was doing it.”  Score!   I thought I passed that one off well.  My mission was complete.  I was able to work with him in a way we both thought was fun yet, he had no idea the fear I held within me.  I thought working with him at such a young age, would prevent the possible inevitable.

¶ Please feel free to add comments or questions.

The Crocus

I wonder if a crocus

Wishes to come out:

I think it must, like you and me,

Have many times of doubt.

And draw inside its dreary bulb

And peering at the snow

That fills the wide and wintry world

Mistrust its power to grow.

Yet once it takes its heat in hand

And steps into the cold,

It finds itself clothed like a king

In purple robes and gold.

~ James Dillet Freeman

I hope these little words from my grandmother helps you as it did me.

¶ Please feel free to express your thoughts and or questions.

¶ Please feel free to add comments or questions.