Written by Malinda Clatterbuck, Board Secretary for Lancaster Pride

It is the worst thing in the world to have to endure. The call at four in the morning telling you your child was found dead in their college dorm–by suicide. A year and a half later, my sister keeps asking me how I even get out of bed in the morning, and honestly, I don't know. Except, perhaps, because I still have a daughter, a spouse, a job, and pets. And I still live in a world where people are continually being discriminated against for the wrong reasons. I feel like there is a lot of work still to be done, and I am one positioned to be a voice in that work. So, I rise each day.

I dream of a world where the peer pressure of our country's consciousness makes bullying verboten. A world where those in power don't use their power to increase their own wealth and power, but rather to protect the constitutional rights, civil rights, and human rights of all people, regardless of color, gender identity, country of origin, or where they were born or by whom.

We are not there yet. I don't know if we will be in my lifetime. But I will keep working for it.

I am a middle-aged woman from the rural woods of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I have the devastating distinction of having a trans son who took his life at the age of 22. Regardless of whatever else I do in my lifetime, this is the identifying factor that people see when they look at me. I am learning to embrace that reality, and am figuring out how to live into it; because beautiful, talented, valuable people are dying at an alarming rate, and we can do something to stop it.

Not everyone is comfortable with numbers, but try to make it through just a few statistics with me. It is really important that we don't shy away from the astounding truth. According to the CDC (Center for Disease Control), 49,000 people took their own lives in the US in 2023, that's 14 deaths per 100,000 people in the general population. One and a half million people attempted (45 out of 100,000). Among those who identify as trans though, the percentage is much higher. The UCLA Williams Institute School of Law reported that 42% of trans adults in that same year attempted suicide (that's 42 out of 100), and 26% of high school trans students (26 out of every 100). These statistics are staggering. Especially considering that trans people make up roughly 1% of the total population.

We have to ask ourselves “why?”. Why do trans people make up the highest percentage of deaths by suicide and suicide attempts of all demographics in our country? Let's look at the facts. The Trans Legislation Tracker reports that 987 anti-trans bills have been introduced in 49 states just this year. These bills block trans people from a range of things including, receiving basic healthcare, education, legal recognition, and most egregiously, the right to even publicly exist. One hundred and twenty-two of these bills have passed, and two hundred and twenty-one are still active. I am not only incredibly saddened and disappointed about this, but also righteously outraged that our elected officials spend so much time discriminating against a group of marginalized people, who cause no harm to any other people, but merely want the right to exist and have the same human rights as all white, cis-gendered folks do.

It's not that I lack compassion for people who don't understand what it means to be trans. I can understand the confusion and ignorance. But when did confusion and ignorance become a license for discrimination, bullying, and fear-mongering? Our son came out to us over a family dinner at the age of 16 years old. We had raised him and his younger sister to be open and accepting of all people. They grew up with many role-models and family friends in the LGBTQIA+ community and on principle, we taught them to also be tolerant of trans people. But truth be told, we didn't have trans friends that we knew well. When Ashton said he was trans, we didn't understand. As a woman raised through the 1980's, I had lived the reality of being a woman in a patriarchal society, and I had done my time railing against the injustices of gender inequality. Many of the positions I held through the first half of my adult life had counter male positions who made 10%-20% higher salary than I made, even when they had less experience, lower performance, and needed my assistance to accomplish their responsibilities. I was proud to be raising what I thought were really strong women in my two children. One way Ash showed his strength occurred when he was just 14 in middle school; before he came out. I questioned him about not shaving his legs. At that point, he was still identifying as female to us, his family, and to the public. He (and his sister, who still has never shaved) were the only girls in middle school who didn't shave. I asked him, being the older child, "So, just wondering how things are going at school. I love that you don't shave your legs, but I wonder- do other kids make fun of you? I mean, do they try to peer pressure you into shaving?" I was trying to make sure my kids weren't being bullied for such behavior that society might consider radical. Ash innocently and confidently replied (which was so typical of who he always was), "I don't know what you mean, mom. I don't want to shave my legs. What would it matter what other people think or say? Maybe sometimes kids say things- but that is their right. It doesn't bother me." I was so proud. I thought I was raising a really strong, bold, individual young woman.

The Clatterbuck family poses together in front of a wooden sign that reads “Cucumber Falls, Ohiopyle State Park.” The father and mother stand on either side, with their two children between them, all smiling .

When Ash came out as trans, I grieved. I grieved the loss of that strong young woman, who would join me in fighting for women's rights. I cried for weeks. Not because I didn't believe my son. Not because I stopped loving him, or didn't support him. But my tears were for my own grief. It is hard for parents to realize that sometimes when their children come out as trans, our pain is of our own making. Indeed, my husband and I were also afraid. Some of our tears were because we knew life would never be easy for our son. Anti-trans sentiments were already on the rise. But my love for my child over-rode any fear I had, any ignorance or confusion or lack of understanding on my part, and I learned that supporting him, working to understand him, and protecting him from discrimination was more important than my own discomfort. It was about one year after he transitioned that we were having a conversation as a family, after Ash had written an incredible op ed in the local paper appealing for trans rights. I had forgotten about my tears and grief directly following his come out. He hadn't. He asked me if I remembered saying that I was grieving because I wasn't raising the strong woman I thought. I had to embarrassingly affirm that I did remember– with a little bit of guilt I might add. And he, again so insightfully stated, "You know mom, we need strong trans male advocates too."

Truer words were never spoken. We need strong trans advocates even more today. Let me connect some dots for you that you may not know. The incredible rhetoric taking place among school board members, state representatives, and out of the oval office itself is a form of dangerous bullying on a great scale. Demonizing trans people from these levels of power have empowered all levels below–from elementary school peers to fellow patrons in a bar, to employers, and school administrators–to demonize and discriminate against fellow human beings merely for identifying as trans, when trans people cause no inherent threat to anyone. Even when trans people have supportive and loving families and churches, as my son had, this bullying on a grand scale, has created a world where trans people are told over and over again that they are not welcomed in this world. And not only are they unwelcomed, but they are also told they are less than everyone else, they are mentally ill, worthy of discrimination, and often violence. This message of worthlessness from those people in power who are given power to protect the most marginalized has the effect of moving trans people to hopelessness, and as the numbers above indicate, suicidal ideations, plans, and actions. Shame on us for our hatred.

And what's worse is that too many people are hating in the name of Jesus. I am also an Anabaptist pastor. Another part of the beauty of my story is that our little progressive church, where I was pastoring when Ash came out, also witnessed his public coming out during a sermon he delivered later in his 16th year of life. The faith community rallied around him, accepting and loving and nurturing his growth up until his death. He continued teaching young children's Christian education classes to the youngest of our community. He was loved and welcomed. Although many self-professed Christians try to use Scripture to justify their discrimination and hatred, our community, and indeed our immediate family always interpreted the teachings and life of Jesus as requiring compassion and love from us. Our interpretation has cultivated in us hearts of grace and empathy for those ostracized by the greedy and selfish of our society.

What does the world require of you today? Perhaps you have behaved in ways that you aren't proud of by acting on your fears or ignorance, by contributing to the bullying and discrimination. Now is always the best time to apologize and change. We can help to save the lives of our trans friends and family. I don't want other parents to have to live with the grief that I–my partner, my daughter, and our entire community–live with each day. I rise and speak out during this Suicide Prevention Month, in order to try to help those who don't quite understand trans people. You don't have to understand. You don't have to approve or accept even. But may your heart and may your God work in you a humanity of grace so that you at least refuse to allow discrimination and hate to be what identifies your words and your vote. I will end with the powerful words of my son, so very intelligent beyond his young years: