When I met Leslie Lagerstrom and heard she had a transgender child, I thought, “Well there’s a story … for another day.” I write about many topics to raise awareness — autism, epilepsy, mental illness, and addiction, to name a few — but none as foreign or disquieting to me as this one seemed.

When high-school policies regarding transgender athletes made the news recently, I decided it was time to become informed. I invited Leslie to tell her story to offer context to an issue that generates strong emotions and is laden with misconceptions.

She was happy to oblige, for her life’s work is now advocating for her child and the fewer than 1 percent of Americans who are transgender.

From a very early age, Leslie and Dave Lagerstrom’s daughter, Samantha, would wake up each day feeling as if there was a disconnect between her mind and body. As a toddler, she preferred Matchbox cars to Barbie dolls and baseball jerseys to dresses. When she played dress-up with her girlfriends, she chose the male costumes and played the dad because that was what felt natural to her. But her parents thought — hoped — Samantha was just in a tomboy phase that she would outgrow.

On her 8th birthday Samantha revealed that every year for as long as she could recall she had the same birthday wish: she wanted to be the boy she knew she was. That was the same year she learned about XX chromosomes and XY chromosomes in third grade science class. It was the year she excitedly told her parents she now understood why she felt like a boy, though she was born a girl. She was supposed to get the XY chromosomes but mistakenly received the XX.

What Sam viewed as a mistake of genetics is termed gender dysphoria (formerly referred to as gender identity disorder). It is a medical diagnosis for individuals who experience a lasting conflict between their birth gender and that with which they identify. It is neither a phase nor a choice, Leslie says.

Resigned that they were dealing with more than a tomboy phase, the Edina family began to take steps to help Samantha reconcile her mind and body.

Middle school is challenging for students who do not conform to societal norms and expectations. Nevertheless, at age 11, Samantha began the process of transitioning to Samuel. Her internal struggle was greater than any verbal or physical abuse. The need to find internal peace was paramount.

Transitioning presents many practical challenges. Whether at school, summer camp or in the community there is always the sticky question of what restroom to use. Official documents such as social security cards, birth certificates and passports all reflect a person’s gender, as do myriad records — library, school, medical, dental, insurance — and need to be updated.

Vocabulary needs to shift, particularly pronouns, when “she” becomes “he.” In Sam’s case some people made the transition seamlessly; others struggled with it. One classmate, encouraged by his parents to do so, referred to Sam as “it.”

Studies show the vast majority of transgender people are harassed at school and in the workplace. Sam was no exception. High school was a lonely time for him, marked by giggles and whispers during roll call by students who knew he had been Samantha but had become Samuel. He often ate alone. He was afraid to ride the school bus. Students barred the restroom on the rare occasions he tried to use it.

Leslie understands why the rates of depression and suicide are exponentially higher for transgender people than the general population. “My son never had the chance to experience the camaraderie of a team sport … to learn those life lessons that can only come from sharing the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat alongside young men who have a mutual passion for the sport,” she says.

As a writer (www.transparenthood.net) and speaker, Leslie tries to help others to see her child as a whole person. He is a great student, musician, athlete, and community volunteer. Being trans- gender is just a part of who he is and does not define him.

As the family has confronted bigotry, Leslie, a Democrat and agnostic, has faced her own prejudice. Among those who learned about Sam she expected the staunch Republicans and devout Catholics to be the most unreceptive, she says.

To her surprise, many have been among his strongest advocates and allies. Though the family has witnessed the best and worst in humanity the good definitely outweighs the bad, she says.

Sam is a freshman in college now, at a new school where he can make a fresh start. His younger sister, Josie, a high school freshman, is one of his most stalwart champions, offering a simplistic explanation for a complex situation. “I used to have a sister; now I have a brother.” Leslie marches forward, a warrior mom with a mission to help the Sams of the world to become understood and accepted. Because when her child hurts, she hurts.

Caryn M. Sullivan of Eagan is a contributing columnist for the Pioneer Press. Email her at caryn@carynmsullivan.com.