Memoir of a Stealth Transition - 32 & 33 of 38

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Chapter 32 - The Dean

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised to get a message from the dean when I went to my morning class. The professor excused me with a smile and wished me good luck - a summons from the Dean usually meant you would need all the luck you could find.

Until that morning I had very little contact with Dean Santos other than seeing him on a podium at some formal college event. His secretary seemed friendly enough - a good sign - and sent me on in to his office.

I politely knocked and he called "come in." I think 'bemused' would best describe his expression. He was maybe in his forties, tall and rather good looking - and yes, I was starting to notice such things. Since the accepted wisdom of the time was 'don't trust anybody over thirty,' I really hadn't too much experience in judging the age of such ancient fossils.

"Please sit down, Ms Cobb. I suppose I should call you Ms Cobb, anyway. You seem to have created quite a tempest in our little teapot."

"I didn't mean to, sir."

"If you knew how many times I have heard that phrase from people sitting in that chair you would be amazed. Somehow I suspect your story will be unique among the many that I have heard from the students here. I would like to hear it."

Whew! He didn't seem like he was going to expel me without a hearing.

"I'm afraid it's rather complex, sir."

"No doubt, but please continue."

By this time I was able to tell my story in a coherent fashion, having started with Julie, then Sandra, then Doug, then the various doctors. It did take some time and he was a good listener.

"To be truthful, Ms Cobb, I don't know what to think. While I have no doubt that you wouldn't have made such a major change in your body or your life without a very good cause, I am forced to look at the wider aspects of your presence here. If the reports of the mob scene at the radio station are correct, by now you should have realized you can't just be one more anonymous student. You have become a public figure. I'm sure you're aware of the current debate about the ERA."

Funny how things come full circle. As I'm writing this the ERA has just been ratified by enough states to become a part of the constitution, but that foolish time limit is now headed for the courts. And of course several states are trying to take back their ratification. Just as I couldn't simply become a female student at college, the poor amendment can't be simply added to the constitution. The forces of regression and male dominance are going to keep kicking and screaming no matter what happens.

But back to the dean. Of course I was aware of the ERA, no way Maggie would let me be uninformed about such an important topic. If you think a bunch of scared old white men are upset now, you should have seen the mess back then. To the everlasting shame of my adopted gender, that brings up Phyllis Schlafly.

She started as a communist hunter and member of the John Birch Society, but left them because they weren't conservative enough. Running out of communists to hate, she decided to hate women who didn't want to be doormats for men.

So all right, I don't like the lady, but she brings out the cattiness in me. She was the darling of the old white men quaking in their boots over losing any of their power and control. They just loved a misogynistic woman spouting their propaganda for them.

So how does this connect with my interview with the Dean? Let's continue the conversation.

"I'm afraid you leave me with a problem. According to Mrs Schlafly, you are exactly the monster that the ERA will allow to stalk the nation's lady's rooms. To them, you are obviously dressed as you are for the sole purpose of lurking in the women's bathrooms to prey on good Christian women. Please don't get angry with me, I realize the weakness of this foolish argument, but I'm afraid that leaves both you and the college vulnerable."

"Dean Santos, I never…"

"I realize that, Ms Cobb. After talking to you I am convinced of your sincerity even if I am unable to understand what drove you to this decision. The problem is that our fates are not solely decreed by our own actions, but by the perceptions of others. You could easily be swept away in the current charged atmosphere of war protests and the changing role of women in our society. It is my job to be sure that the college is not sucked into the tempest."

"I understand, dean. I don't want to be a cause of trouble, but I do want to finish my education here. What can I do to keep the situation calm?

"A very good question. And I wish I had some good answers. I will be frank and say that your decisions have tested my liberal ideals. I have supported the idea that women and men should have equal opportunities and pay, but the thought of a man wanting to become a woman disturbs me at a deeper level. And yet one of the core values of an institution such as ours is to examine and challenge such fundamental beliefs. You have made me acutely aware that I am as prone to hidebound thinking as those who would see our world as an unchanging and unquestioned artifact."

"I'm sorry, Dean Santos…"

"No, don't be sorry, be true to your values. That's another of those core principals we try to instill in our students. Somehow I'd forgotten that we need to have our complacency kicked in the fundament every so often. It can be painful but it does concentrate the mind wonderfully. But on to practical matters."

"Yes?"

"I see from your schedule that you have no PE requirements, so locker rooms will not be an issue. You're living off campus so dorms will not be an issue, either. I assume you don't wish to become a talking point for Mrs Schlafly's campaign, so I would urge you to avoid using either the men's or women's bathrooms. I realize this will be a trial, but we do have several 'one holers' as it were, and I will see you have the use of them."

"I understand completely. I've never been questioned yet, but I'm sure that someone will try to use me to illustrate their point-of-view."

"Protest has become a way of life, it seems. The other issue is your personal safety. While incidents against women are rare on our campus, they do occur. I'm afraid you may become a target. I'm sure your roommate Ms Vanhoose will be able to enlighten you about the things a woman must think about for her safety, things that a man would hardly consider. I wish it were not so, but we must live in the real world. Please don't put yourself at risk."

"I don't intend to, dean."

"One other thing. The word is that by next year the federal government will be imposing requirements for treating men and women equally, in fact there are congressional hearings going on right now. We do not intend to be left in the dust when they get around to creating their requirements, so we are forming a committee of faculty and students to discuss what would make sense and how we can implement a fair policy for all. I would like to invite you and Ms Vanhoose to be part of that committee."

"I would be pleased to do so, and I'll talk to Maggie tonight."

"Of course we'll be issuing formal invitations soon, but let her know."

"Thank you, Dean Santos. One thing I need to ask."

"Yes?"

"My name is now legally Connie Cobb, so I need to have my school records reflect this."

"You know where the registrar's office is, I assume. Just stop up there and they can tell you what needs to be done. And Ms Cobb…"

"Yes?"

"I caught the last hour of your broadcast yesterday. All three of you women have a bright future ahead of you. Well done."

Chapter 33 - The Attack

Of course it wasn't as easy as a talk with the dean and everything fell into place. I had long ago gone through learning how to be a woman back home. My body was androgynous, before I had breasts the clothes I wore made a big difference in how I was perceived. Acceptance ran from 'welcome, sister' to 'do I have to sit next to that thing?' After the first rush of excitement, I was mostly able to just try and study and finish my degree.

Julie and I applied to several grad schools, but hoped to get in to the one near where Sandra lived. After much suspense, we were both accepted in three different schools, but chose the accelerated program near Sandra. Living with her and Doug would save a of of time, money and grief. Besides I liked them a lot.

Two other things happened in our last semester that need telling. First, I had started skating again at the college ice rink and Julie wanted to learn so I started giving her lessons. Maggie soon joined in and the three of us had a marvelous time, even if my roommates came home with sore ankles and sore bums. During our second lesson we ran into a guy named Isaac, who was an accomplished skater himself.

Now I started this life as a guy, so I completely understood how irresistible it would be to offer to help three beautiful ladies, two of whom were obviously still floundering. With Isaac helping Maggie the lessons went considerably faster and before long my roommates were able to skate by themselves without looking like newborn fillies.

While the girls were resting Isaac offered to try a few moves (skating ones, not the kind you're thinking of!) with me and we did a sort of ice dance together, laughing at our attempts to synchronize our movements. That doesn't happen immediately, it takes lots of practice. Neither of us had the time needed to put together something professional, but it was fun.

(Just as an aside, if you want to see what real ice dancing looks like, check this You-Tube clip. Makes me jealous of what a real professional ice dancer can do.)

Isaac became a frequent guest at our place, and for a time I thought something was happening between him and Maggie, but it never really gelled. I must have been truly a woman by that point, I tried my best to pair Isaac off with Maggie, but I was a failure as a matchmaker.

The other incident was not so pretty. Dean Santos was all too right - three drunken frat boys accosted me. I had just come from skating and was wearing my skating outfit, which is of course very brief and designed to show my panties when I twirl. Since I can't use the locker rooms to change I had been going back and forth in costume and had never had a problem. The night was warm enough that I didn't need a coat, so I was pretty visible.

I almost made it past the guys when one made a grab at me and I reacted without thinking. I swung my skates at him and he screamed as the razor sharp blades bit into his forearm. The scream attracted attention quickly and we were soon surrounded. The cut in his arm was bleeding profusely, and nobody knew what to do.

Except me. First aid is something essential when you handle sharp blades on skates. Every so often there is an accident. I dug into my bag and found a scarf, which I wrapped around the cut and then applied pressure.

"Someone get to a phone and call an ambulance!" I ordered. That wasn't as easy as it is today, 911 was still being deployed and hadn't reached us yet. No cell phones, whoever made the call had to find a pay phone or someone to let them use their home phone. I never knew which it was, but eventually the police and an ambulance showed up and the drunk was taken to the hospital and I went to the police department to answer questions and fill out reports.

If you ever want to feel out-or-place, try sitting around a police station in a skimpy skating outfit with a couple of rapidly sobering drunks and talking about slicing up some guy's arm with your skate blade. There was one asshole cop who ignored my story completely and tried to get the drunks to press charges against me! Fortunately his supervisor caught on quick and he was sent on his way while I told my story, which the two drunks rather fuzzily confirmed.

 

So we finally graduated, all three of us summa cum laude would you believe? We walked across the stage (in high heels, of course) and got our diploma frames (diploma to be mailed in a week or two) as all our parents watched with pride. We were graduated!

So, two weeks to celebrate and we start grad school.

Whopee!

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