Caiden Fratangelo

Caiden Fratangelo, 22, outside the Pennsylvania State Capitol in Harrisburg, Sunday, March 15, 2015. Paul Chaplin | pchaplin@pennlive.com

(PAUL CHAPLIN)

Caiden Fratangelo attended an all-female college with no transgender policy. That worried him.

He is a transgender man, and was making the transition between junior and senior year at Chatham University in Pittsburgh. He emailed professors to inform them of his new name, and that the pronoun "he" now applied. He braced for a reaction from administrators.

But everything went smoothly, especially among his classmates, who chose him as commencement speaker. He spoke about "being yourself."

It didn't go so well at home.

Internet plays important role



YouTube meant a lot to Caiden. Many transgender people post YouTube videos chronicling their transitions from male to female or from female to male. They capture the changes to their bodies as they undergo hormone therapy, or after surgery, which some but not all transgender people choose.

They discuss topics such as using public restrooms and dating. They review products such as stand-to-pee devices.

"The Internet played a huge role in me coming out," says Caiden, 22. "The Internet just changed the whole game for transgender people."

'What did I do wrong?'

Caiden's father doesn't refer to him as "he." He calls him Cai, pronounced Cay. He sees it as a compromise - an abbreviation that applies to Caiden or to his birth name, Caitlin.

Joe Fratangelo is a former railroad conductor who was disabled in a train accident, and a devout Roman Catholic. Caiden's mother, Patty, is a registered nurse.

When Joe Fratangelo learned Caiden is a transgender man, "the first thing I thought is what did I do wrong?"

Fratangelo, 57, says the concept of being transgender conflicts with his religious faith. He compares it to his views on homosexuality. "It's OK to be gay, but it's not OK to live the lifestyle," he says.

Yet his religious faith, and other things, also make it impossible to withdraw his love for his child. "I will never walk away from Cai," he says.

Race cars, not dolls

Caiden knew by age 6 his female body didn't match his male inner-self.

He refused to wear dresses. He liked playing with boys and chasing girls. He wanted to swim with his shirt off. Upon receiving a Barbie doll at a birthday party, he said, "It's not for me," and handed it to a girl. He liked race cars and Power Rangers.

He was the middle child, with two sisters. His mother delighted in the idea of three girls and having them involved in activities such as dancing and gymnastics.

Caiden liked basketball and karate. During those years, it wasn't terribly hard to fit in. "I was always written off as tomboy," he says. He believes his interest in sports made it easier for his father to accept his boyish traits.

But it became more difficult as he approached high school.

Tough to fit in

Caiden grew up in Plum Township outside Pittsburgh in a four-bedroom house in a nice development near horse farms.

During middle school years, he wore T-shirts and jeans. At the beginning of high school, he tried to fit in better, wearing make-up and form-fitting clothes. "I realized that wasn't who I was," he says. He went back to ambiguous clothing, and cut his hair progressively shorter.

By now he believed he was a lesbian. Classmates and especially teammates became less accepting, and he endured bullying and taunts of "dyke." He quit sports after his sophomore year.

At home in college

Chatham University in Pittsburgh has about 2,000 students and a tree-filled campus. It's the alma mater of Rachel Carson, the famous conservationist and writer, and prides itself on a devotion to environmental sustainability.

Caiden found it a highly diverse and accepting community - much more so than high school.

He entered a relationship with an older student who told him he was different than any lesbian she had dated, and similar to men she had dated. She asked, "Are you trans?"

"I realized that's what I was and that's what I am," Caiden says.

He went to an off campus LGBT counseling center, where he discussed his feelings about his gender, and they asked many, many questions. Eventually, a board that included a physician and a psychiatrist granted him approval to undergo hormone therapy and surgery. The counseling and approval process, intended to make sure someone is making a sound decision, took about nine months.

A telling letter

Caiden was studying abroad in Turkey when a letter related to medical aspects of transitioning arrived in his parent's mailbox.

His mother, being a nurse, soon realized what it meant. That was how his parents learned he is transgender. Caiden regards the fact he was in Turkey, and separated from his family's immediate reaction, as a "blessing."

Still, he returned home to shouting and tears. His father worried about his soul and place in eternity. His mother didn't seem to fully understand what it is to be transgender, and Caiden felt she considered him a "freak."

He spent months "couch surfing" at friends' homes, and didn't come home for Christmas or Easter.

At one point, he agreed to go with his father to a religious conference his father hoped would change Caiden's mind. Caiden says he went in the hope that, after it failed to sway him, his father would understand being transgender wasn't a matter of choice.

He says his father also asked him to undergo conversion therapy, the controversial process intended to change a person's orientation to heterosexual. Caiden says he was willing to go, again with hope of making his father understand, but his girlfriend said she wouldn't date someone who would undergo that, so he didn't go.

He graduated last spring with a double major in political science and psychology and a minor in economics.

Things are better at home. His mother, he says, "is more open than I ever would have expected." His father "struggles a bit because of his faith."

"I know my parents love me," he says.

Of their initial reaction to learning he's transgender, he says, "I never blamed them. That's who they are. That's what they believed."

His father noticed too

Joe Fratengelo agrees Caiden was different from an early age. He remembers Caiden unwrapping a doll on Christmas and tossing it aside.

Later, after the medical letter arrived, he did research about transgender people. He was deeply affected by the high suicide rate - one recent study found that more than 40 percent of transgender people have attempted suicide.

Facts such as those, along with his Christian beliefs, caused him to recognize "it has to be very difficult for them," and realize he must feel and show respect for Caiden.

"I think if more families were more accepting, as far as being there and accepting their kids, there would be less suicides going on," he says.

Caiden is OK with his father addressing him as "Cai." He regards it as "gender-neutral" and accepts it as a caring effort to show respect while remaining true to his beliefs.

"It's not ideal for me, yes, but because of how deep his faith is, I don't want to ever make him feel like he is sinning or doing his faith any harm," Caiden says.

Considering politics

Caiden is enrolled in AmeriCorps and doing a year of service work with Habitat for Humanity in the Harrisburg area. He's thinking about a master's degree in public policy or law school. He would like to work on campaigns, and maybe run for office some day.

When he was about 6, Caiden asked his father if it's possible God made a mistake.

His father said no.

Caiden agrees.

"I think I was born to be trans," he says.