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By the time Taylor is packing up for his freshman year at Oberlin, Lima is an awfully comfortable place for him. He doesn’t exactly go around recommending coming out to the entire town at once, if he’s asked on one of his online boards, but he has to say that it’s worked out really well for him. When sophomore year started, it had been clear that people were still overly curious. When Taylor walked in on the first day of senior year as the senior class president and one of the reigning seniors of the glee club, most of the school hadn’t even batted an eye.
Taylor knows that he’s been in a bubble of sorts. The change in the bullying policy had such a strong ripple effect that Taylor hasn’t truly worried about his safety in well over a year. He’s dated, he’s had a steady girlfriend, and he’s been treated just like one of the guys, all without worrying about being found out.
He worries that no college, no matter how liberal, can match his experiences in high school. Even if institutionally and atmospherically, Oberlin will be similar, Taylor is beginning to realize that for the first time in years, he has to come out.
Not just once, not just twice, but over and over again, in a way he’s never really had to do. He’s only really said it four or five times, ever, and now Taylor realizes that he’ll be lucky to keep it to four or five times in the first day he’s on Oberlin’s campus.
Yeah, Oberlin has some of the best policies he’s seen, in terms of housing and trans students, and yeah, in theory, his roommate should be fine with a trans guy, but Taylor’s not so lulled into complacency as to think that every policy translates directly into a great experience in reality.
So Taylor packs his things and puts most of them in his dad’s sedan, letting his parents drive behind him. He’s not sure how he convinced them to give him a motorcycle for his combined graduation and birthday present, but somehow he did, which means he’s got just a few things strapped on for the two and a half hour drive. They’re going out US–30, through Upper Sandusky, and Taylor grins as they head out of town, because it’s a great day for a ride.
Taylor’s prediction comes true. The first instance is when he checks in, and the girl behind the desk is explaining the entire process. “The Transgender Advocacy Group is good to check in with if you’re trans.”
“Yeah?” Taylor sticks his nametag on and follows her gaze. “Okay, thanks.” It’s not explicit, but it’s enough. Again with the TAG people, and then the RA is explaining the all-gender bathroom.
“That’s the one thing we didn’t have at McKinley that would have been nice,” Taylor admits. “The other guys were mostly cool, but I was still the trans dude in the bathroom.” Again, not explicit, but enough to let her know.
Taylor’s roommate is named Denver, which seems odd, but he seems like a nice enough guy. “Denver, and no, never been to Colorado,” he says, introducing himself.
“Taylor Lange, and I have,” Taylor says, laughing. “I’ll have more stuff when my parents get here in the car, but I left ’em behind around Collins.”
“You’re from Ohio.”
“Lima, yeah.” Taylor slings his backpack onto the bare mattress and looks around. “So, let’s get the potentially awkward stuff out of the way. I’m a trans dude. Taylor is my birth name. I’ve known since I was about ten. Yeah, I take blockers and T, but I haven’t had any surgery. About half of that is really intrusive to ask and if someone asks you any questions, I’d prefer you tell them to ask me, rather than answering them.”
“Oh. Okay. Wow. So like…” Denver looks a little confused.
“I like to explain it as a chromosome problem,” Taylor says with a sideways grin. “Somehow I got two XXs instead of the XY I was supposed to get.”
“Fair enough,” Denver says, and even though he still seems confused, he doesn’t seem disgusted or upset or any of the other negative emotions Taylor can admit that he’s checking Denver’s face for. “Well. I’m a… what’s someone who isn’t trans?”
“Cis.”
“Like chemistry!” Denver grins. “I get it. I’m a cis dude from East Aurora in New York.” Taylor looks blankly at him. “It’s near Buffalo. Don’t worry, I know, everyone assumes New York is just New York City and around it.”
Taylor laughs. “I love New York City. I’ve never been to anywhere else in New York state, though.”
“Yeah?”
“School trip. Show choir, actually,” Taylor explains. “The national competition is in New York every year. We went the last three years, and we won last year.”
“Show choir, huh?”
“Mostly singing, a little bit of dancing. It was a ton of fun. We had a good group of seniors that graduated the year I was a freshman. Living up to what they accomplished was quite a challenge, but we did it in the end.” Taylor hasn’t really thought about his freshman year more than just in passing for a long time, not even when the reporter called, wanting quotes for that story with the Advocate. Yeah, he still gets an email from Kurt every five or six months, which reminds him that he needs to send Kurt his new Oberlin email address, but they don’t talk about the events of freshman year, not really.
The rest of them, the ones that didn’t graduate in 2012, never really talked about it, either, and Taylor realizes suddenly that whatever Oberlin’s PFLAG equivalent is called—he looked it up and put it in his calendar, but he can’t remember the name—at the meeting, some of the people there will probably have read the Advocate article, and might be familiar with the story. Some of them are probably like Kurt, headed into their senior year of college, and familiar with what happened their senior year of high school.
Taylor shakes his head a little. Well, that’s an easy way to come out again, at least.
To: “Kurt Hummel” [email protected]
From: “Taylor Lange” [email protected]
Subject: re: too involved
Date: March 13, 2016
Sorry it’s been a few months. I ended up on the board for the Transgender Advocacy Group and that’s been taking a ton of time. Ended up on it after someone realized I was the Taylor in that magazine.
I know I got a few weird looks at McKinley that I was staying in Ohio but Oberlin’s fantastic. I don’t regret it. I guess you’re getting ready to graduate? Did you hear about grad school yet? Sometime I’ll make it back to New York and I’ll make you and Noah house me or something.
Threat or promise, take it however you want.
Taylor
To: “Casey” [email protected]
From: “Taylor Lange” [email protected]
Subject: you know I don’t understand engineering
Date: April 18, 2016
That’s why I take all the English and creative writing courses. I think this ‘calculus’ of which you speak of involves numbers, but I wouldn’t know anything else about that.
It’s so weird when you talk about Pride Alliance and I remember it’s the only group there. There are eight student groups under the heading “LGBTQ Groups” here at Oberlin, and I guess I’ve already started thinking that was normal.
Taylor
To: “Rick” [email protected]
From: “Taylor Lange” [email protected]
Subject: Don’t Forget!!
Date: May 4, 2016
I’ll be there on Friday if it’s still cool. Just me and the motorcycle and my backpack, but that should be enough for the weekend.
I can’t believe you’re proposing again. You know she’s likely to tell you ‘not yet’ again, right?
Taylor isn’t exactly shocked, but he is a little surprised that dating is even harder at Oberlin than it was in high school. Sure, he really only dated two people while he was at McKinley, but it hadn’t involved any particular drama, since both of them knew he was trans before they started dating.
Oberlin’s big enough that the whole place isn’t going to realize Taylor’s trans, even if he takes out an ad in the newspaper and stands up at the front of every single class he ever takes. He’s also not obviously trans. When he first came out, he had thought his parents could have reacted better, but as he’s gotten older, he’s realized just how lucky he is. The combination of blockers, so he never developed any breasts, and starting T at age 14 means that he’d have to strip completely for someone to start to guess. He has to shave, his body shape is a guys’, and he doesn’t have to wear a binder. It’s awesome most of the time, but ’fessing up about his trans status to a potential girlfriend – well, the confession seems to take most of the Oberlin girls by surprise.
Almost three years at Oberlin, and he’s only had three second dates, one third date, and no fourth dates. He doesn’t feel like he needs a girlfriend per se, but he’d like one, and he’d really like to feel like having a girlfriend is an option.
It’s time for him to think about where to go to grad school, too, and the list of PhD programs in creative writing is pretty short. Two of the top programs are still in Ohio, even, and it’s easy to eliminate a few schools. Taylor’s pretty sure he wouldn’t get a thing done if he were at the University of Hawaii. The same with Las Vegas, if he’s honest, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to live in Texas.
In the end, Taylor applies to four programs in the midwest, USC, and SUNY-Albany, and he gets an acceptance letter from five programs, with enough money to make it worth doing from three. And that’s how at the end of four years at Oberlin, Taylor finds himself renting a U-haul for the move to Albany, New York, his motorcycle safely stowed in the back along with boxes of clothes and books. Up in the front, Taylor has his backpack and directions to the Ikea in Paramus, New Jersey, because after four years of dorm living, he’s going to have to find furniture for his apartment.
Graduate school is another place of continual coming out, though this time he has to decide how to handle the classes of undergraduates he teaches. He finally decides that it’s not appropriate to announce, though he almost wishes someone would ask, just so he could answer and move on. He sees a few of his students at the university’s LGBTQ+ group, and he can tell they’re curious about why he’s there. The university’s just too big for any sort of announcement to work, though, so Taylor tells a few people and lets the rest of them wonder.
The second year that Taylor’s in Albany, one of the new grad students moves into her cubicle of the grad student office, then looks over at Taylor and smiles. After she’s put a few things out, she walks over to Taylor, offering her hand.
“Hi, I’m Matilda Greenburg. Lately of the University of Michigan, originally from Indiana.”
Taylor returns the smile and shakes her hand. “Taylor Lange. Second year grad student. I did undergrad at Oberlin, and I’m from Lima, Ohio, originally.”
“I’m from Muncie!” Matilda laughs. “How funny. Do you have time to get a pop or something, tell me a little bit about Albany?”
“For someone that knows it’s called a pop, absolutely,” Taylor agrees, standing up.
Matilda tells him a little about Muncie, and Michigan, and in return, Taylor talks about Oberlin, Lima, and his first year in Albany.
“So do you participate in any of the groups on campus besides the graduate student association?”
“Just the pride group,” Taylor says. “I mean, there’s just the one. We had eight at Oberlin. But it’s still good.”
“Oh, good. I’m pan, at least that’s the easiest way to define it.” She pauses curiously, obviously waiting for Taylor to explain his own interest.
“I just have a little chromosomal issue,” Taylor says wryly. “I ended up with two X chromosomes instead of the Y I was supposed to have.”
“Oh.” Matilda looks surprised. “Seriously? Just… I wouldn’t have ever guessed.”
“Yeah, I have really great parental support, so a lot of things worked out really really well for me,” Taylor says. “I’ve been out since I was fourteen, and everyone at my high school knew, you know? Figuring out how to come out to people here has been the hardest.”
“Really? Everyone at your high school. Wow.”
Taylor grins. “Yeah, McKinley was sort of unique, I admit. But I like Albany. I don’t know where I’ll end up after I’m done here, but that’s a few years away, still.”
“Exactly.” Matilda finishes her pop and tosses the cup as they leave the small sitting area. “So how about dinner sometime this weekend?”
“I think that’s a great plan.”
Not quite two years later, on a somewhat chilly day in June, Taylor and Matilda are married in Albany at Acra Manor, the venue that sealed itself as top contender with the combination of Mexican Station and ice cream wagon. Or at least it sealed itself as the top contender for Taylor with that combination; Matilda was won over more by the chocolate fountain.
From the beginning, nothing about Taylor being trans has fazed Matilda, which is exactly what he’d hoped he’d eventually find. They spend a lot of the reception dancing, and by the time they escape, Matilda’s face is pink and she’s complaining about sweating.
“But did you have fun?” Taylor asks, unlocking their hotel room door.
Matilda laughs. “Of course.”
The next morning, they drive to the Poconos, which turns out to be just as cheesy as Taylor was afraid of, but Matilda has fun and they stay in the room a lot, which is all Taylor’s particularly interested in from a honeymoon.
Taylor and Matilda stay for a week, then drive towards Ohio, where they spend a week in Lima before spending a week in Muncie. Their midwestern tour more or less complete, they fly back to Albany and spend the rest of the summer working during the week and taking trips on the motorcycle on the weekends. Money’s a little tight, but things are better than the kid Taylor was could have ever imagined, back when he started his freshman year at McKinley.
After six years at SUNY-Albany, and five for Matilda, they get their PhDs and start looking for jobs. They concentrate on the midwest, even though they know it’s going to be hard to find jobs in the same city, much less two in the area of the country they want. They luck out, though, when Taylor gets an offer at Case Western Reserve and Matilda gets one from Oberlin.
“That’s highly ironic,” Matilda points out.
“Yeah, it is. It’s just adjunct, though.”
“You’re the one that wants to teach forever. I just want to teach until my first novel gets published.” Matilda grins at the screen in front of her. “The next New York Times bestselling author and critical darling, Matilda Greenburg Lange.”
“Guess it’s time to pack up and head back to Ohio, then.” Taylor pauses. “Cleveland rocks, right?”