Parents of trans children face constant criticism, judgment and the implication that they are somehow causing their child’s gender dysphoria, says Sarah, the mother of Kelly, a six-year-old child who was assigned male at birth but now lives and identifies as female.

It’s your fault, society seems to say. You are persuading your son that he is a girl. You’re too close to your child. You’re not close enough to your child. You think it’s fashionable.

“It’s the same arguments all the time, and parents get traumatised by it, especially when there’s a split within a family or if a school is unsupportive.”

Not all parents are accepting, but they often come around. Daniel (19), is a trans man who encountered severe difficulties with his parents when he came out at the end of fifth year. They threw him out. If his aunt hadn’t taken him in, he would be homeless. But people’s minds do change, he says, and he’s now back on good terms with his parents.

“It took them a year to come around, but they did. I know how hard and frustrating it is to be held back, but try to remember that your parents have to bury one child and welcome a new child. They never knew they had a son. The whole dynamic of the family changes. Give them time.”

Once parents come to terms, dealing with the wider family can be challenging. Grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins struggle. Families often think that maybe the child is not trans but gay, although gender and sexuality can be better thought of as two distinct lines on an axis: much as we now understand that human sexuality is not just heterosexual or homosexual but that people often fall somewhere in between, gender identity is also a spectrum. Extended family members have attended some of the residential weekends held by Transgender Equality Network Ireland (TENI), as they seek to understand what is happening.

The constant explaining

Diane is the mother of Richie (15), a trans boy who was assigned female at birth. One of Diane’s brothers has been resistant. “He said everything I was afraid people would say,” says Richie. Diane’s mother has had “a genuine struggle within herself”. But the family are now accepting him as a boy. Still, for Richie, the constant explaining can be exhausting.

Kelly’s transition has posed challenges. Kelly has, in the past few months, become frightened of people learning about her past. “She gets annoyed at me for telling people we have known our whole lives,” says her mother, Sarah. “We’re trying to foster a positive self-image in Kelly, in which case it should be okay to tell people. It leaves me with a big dilemma.”

One day, Kelly’s sister was cornered and taunted by other children, who declared that Kelly was “really a boy”. Her friends intervened and stood up for her, but her parents decided to move schools.

Single-sex schools

Ireland is unusual in having a large number of single-sex schools, which exacerbates the problem for young trans people, who face either having their identity denied or being the only student of their gender in an all-boys or all-girls school. In some areas, there are only single-sex schools.

At second level, the Joint Managerial Body, which represents school management, is currently working with TENI to develop a set of guidelines. For the small number of trans children in primary school, however, there’s no clear path. In all cases, students are totally dependent on the goodwill of school management.

Across the world, many religious schools, as well as many deeply religious parents, have been supportive of trans children. Others, of course, have not.

Sometimes trans children are forced to wear the wrong uniform, or are forbidden from using the toilet of their preferred gender or sent to a disabled toilet. One young person said his school habitually sent him to the local cafe’s toilets.

Dr Lisa Brinkmann, a clinical psychologist, has been struck by “horror stories” about bullying in schools, from peers and teachers. Parents often take the child out of school. Many teens wait until school is over to transition, continuing to present themselves in their birth-assigned gender until exams end.

An accommodating school

Rachel is a 15-year-old trans girl. “Her school couldn’t be more accommodating,” says her mother, Joan. “Rachel wears the girl’s uniform and they’ve made gender-neutral toilets available for her. When she does PE, she’s with the girls.

“The school’s leadership is fabulous and the ethos is based around respect and inclusion. There’s been no bullying. I feel really positive about the upcoming generation.”

Stephanie Brill, executive director of Gender Spectrum and co-author of The Transgender Child, says that children who do not or are forbidden to transition focus their energy on their gender identity and miss key developmental milestones. The academic performance of otherwise bright children suffers. To varying degrees, this has been the case for all 10 of the children and young people interviewed here. Many have fallen behind in school.

Sarah and her husband, Kelly’s father, have been learning about trans issues. “When I read a report about education, suicide and dropout rates among trans youth, I thought, I’m not having this for my child. She’s a bright spark, and she has a right to her education.”

While living in Australia, the family pulled Kelly out of one school due to a total lack of support. Back in Ireland, there’s a lack of clarity around name changes and gender recognition in schools.

Sarah and her husband scrabbled around for information. The Archdiocese of Dublin Education Secretariat could only say that it “hoped [Kelly] would be met with a compassionate response”.

Educate Together schools are now proactively developing an ethos around acceptance of diversity, but, when working with Sarah, they weren’t sure where they stood legally.

“They reassured us that Kelly would be safe and given the recognition vital to her learning, development and self esteem,” says Sarah. They now live in an urban centre in the UK, where it has been easier for them to find a supportive school.

Sarah recognises that, whatever Kelly decides, the road will be long and difficult. At her age, her gender cannot be legally recognised under law.

Kelly’s name has been legally changed, as have her documents, but this has been a complex process. “If she grows out of it, so what? Why should a child be ashamed if they were a girl for a while? It is sexist. Isn’t it better if they had a healthy and happy childhood?”

Support and help are available at teni.ie and belongto.org

REBECCA’S STORY: ‘THE LAST YEARS IN SCHOOL WERE AWFUL’

Rebecca was a miserable child. “I was one the weird kids in primary school,” she says. “Nobody really liked me.”

Around the beginning of secondary school, she identified that she felt female. At the age of about 11, Rebecca – then living and presenting herself as male – created a female persona online; other trans children share a similar story.

Games, forums and internet communities became her only life to speak of. She made what she calls a “half-assed” suicide attempt at the age of 14. When she was 15, Rebecca, in tears of despair, came out to her parents, who have three other, younger children.

“My mother said, ‘You can’t do this; think of your siblings; what will the neighbours say; what will happen to me; this isn’t real and there’s no such thing; you’ll die old and alone and scared; and everyone will think you’re a weirdo’.

“My dad said that he didn’t care what anyone else thought, that I was his child, and that he wanted me to be happy.”

Rebecca’s energy became consumed with her gender identity. She completely disengaged from her school work. Almost feeling she had nothing left to lose, she came out to her classmates. She had stopped caring what anyone thought. “The last years in school were f***ing awful. By the time I got to fifth and sixth year, I just gave up and didn’t talk to anyone. People stopped bothering me and giving me hassle because I didn’t respond. I just sat and stared.”

Rebecca’s mother enforced short hair and ensured Rebecca did not present as female. She chose therapists whom she hoped could change Rebecca’s mind. The principal and school counsellors, concerned for her welfare, sought advice and help for Rebecca from Outcomers, an LGBT support group based in Dundalk.

She was allowed to wear tracksuit bottoms but not allowed to wear a female uniform, and was permitted to use the disabled toilet. Teachers stopped referring to her by name or else used only her surname.

Rebecca feels that the school did what they could and didn’t abandon her, but that, if her mother had been more supportive, the school might have been too. Meanwhile, she was sneaking out of the house as female and started taking steps to change her name and begin the process of social and medical transition. Her mother finally threw her out on the first day of her Leaving Cert exams, where Rebecca sat frozen, unable to even attempt to answer any questions. “I woke up the next morning and my dad said I had to get dressed and leave straight away. I was 17, almost 18, when I moved into a shitty flat – cold, bare pipes; rats – by myself.”

Rebecca’s father continued to provide financial and emotional support. The following year, she moved to Dublin and enrolled in secondary school to complete her Leaving Cert, while receiving hormonal treatment from the endocrine unit at St Columcille’s Hospital, outside Loughlinstown. “I pass as a woman, but, because of the documents I had to provide, the school know. But they’ve been really supportive.”

Rebecca has a boyfriend and is making plans for the future. She visits home regularly and is close to her youngest brother. Her grandad has been supportive. He still sometimes uses the wrong name or confuses his language, but when he realises, he corrects himself. Her relationship with her mother remains frosty, but it is thawing.