By Janet Meyer
In the spirit of the recent Pride service highlighting straight allies, led by Paolo Sparti and Clara Kelley, we share this story of a particularly important moment in our Fellowship history. For privacy, only first names are used.
When Shannon first began to live as a girl, her family lived and worked in Highlands Ranch, a suburb south of Denver. Although living authentically as a girl brought her joy, she and her family endured discrimination and abuse.
“When I came out, my family was relentlessly targeted by the national media, and I was denied admission to a nearby public school simply because I am transgender. I was only eight years old, and all I wanted was to be myself—a girl—and attend school like everyone else. After four months of negotiations with the school district, I was finally allowed to return to school as Shannon. However, officials were concerned about the transition from “he” to “she” and decided that teachers would address me without using pronouns. I was forced to use either the nurse’s bathroom or the boys’ restroom.” Soon, CNN caught wind of her story, and the media onslaught began, and would eventually have Fox’s Laura Ingram and Bill O’Reilly decrying her family and making her a target of national attention, much of it very negative and frightening.
No longer feeling safe, in the fall of 2009, Shannon’s family fled their home and moved to Boulder County. The schools were much more accommodating, and they soon stumbled upon BVUUF, where they were welcomed with open arms. Karen sets the scene. “We’d been in a battle zone for a year and a half. So when I saw an announcement that this church in our neighborhood was having a panel of transgender adults, I showed up ready for battle, ready to defend the trans community! I was shocked to find instead that there was compassion and people on board.”
It began to dawn on them that the Fellowship might be a safe place to find community. Karen recalls, “Driving by the church, just a few months later, Shannon asked, can we go in? Just the building had become a sanctuary, a place of acceptance.”
Shannon concurs, “The Fellowship holds such a special place in my heart. When we first arrived, it became a sanctuary — the very first place where I could truly be myself. For the first time in my life, I felt unconditional love and acceptance from families, adults, and other children who embraced me as a transgender person. There’s truly no place like it.” She recalls an early experience at one of our “no-rehearsal Christmas pagent” services. Congregants are encouraged to dress up as parts of the nativity story. When Shannon saw an adult dressed up as Jesus, she got very upset and ran crying from the sanctuary. “I lost it because when I was a young child, I had Christians in Denver scream in my face telling me I was going to hell.” She recalls fondly how soothing it was when Katie, the director of religious education, later came to her house and read her a book with beautiful stories about Jesus. Shannon also cherished the summer camp where she attended as a camper, and later as a counselor. “It was one of the few spaces where I wasn’t judged, bullied, or made to feel different. Instead, I was celebrated — just as I am.”
Rev. Lydia Ferrante-Roseberry was only three years into her ministry when the family arrived. While she was immediately welcoming and supportive, she was not completely confident that the congregation would accept a trans child. She thought it likely that some members would leave when Shannon came out to the congregation publicly, but to her delight, that did not happen. Instead, the congregation listened, learned, stretched, and grew.
Shannon’s parents Karen and Herb had become outspoken advocates for the rights of trans kids. Karen recalls wanting to bring the conversation into the congregation. Lydia hesitated, and asked her “how would this be if Shannon wasn’t transgender?” She reminded them that, while being transgender is important part of who she is, it wasn’t her whole identity. “She was seeking a way to see the whole person. When you’re up against the battle, it’s valuable to have that feedback.”
Karen helped found Trans Youth Education and Support (TYES) and with the parents of other trans kids, worked to help create protective policies for theirs and other vulnerable children. The Fellowship provided sorely needed financial support and space for meetings. Karen explains, “the fact that we had financial backing and a safe place to meet meant so much. So much good in those groups that went on for years. I am forever grateful for having that space, because it’s not a space that is easy to find.” Shannon describes the Fellowship as “holy ground,” not only because of its spirit of love and inclusion, but also because it was the sacred space where transgender children could gather, feel safe, and simply be free.
There was growth. Conversations got easier to have. Still, there were issues. Shannon had to leave the ninth grade trip because kids said some cruel things. Kids in the Fellowship were sometimes not as supportive as some others, and we didn’t always follow up with these incidents well.
Over the years, BVUUF has been an imperfect oasis of love and acceptance for queer, trans, non-binary and other gender non-comforming folks. Most members have been warm and welcoming, even when they might not be completely current on the issues, or using the most up-to-date language. Others have balked at using pronouns or expressed discomfort with nontraditional expressions of gender. We are a work in progress and still committed to continuing to learn and grow. Since these days when Shannon first walked in, trans folks have served on staff, in leadership, served on committees, and led services. Like Shannon, they are some of our most beloved members.
Today, Shannon is 25 years old and living in California where she is involved in the Episcipalian church, and is an outspoken advocate for trans rights.
