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The Moth Radio Hour: Something Borrowed, Something New

2022/6/14
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Omar Qureshi shares his experiences of moving to rural Missouri as a Pakistani Muslim, facing racism, and eventually finding acceptance and community.

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From PRX, this is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Jennifer Hickson. With Moth Stories, we try to introduce you to people and situations you might not come across in your daily life. In this hour, we'll hear some themes that might sound familiar and close to home. A wedding, a divorce, and others that might sound less typical. A trans man who wants to get pregnant, or a Muslim at a barbecue joint called Hog Wild. That scene takes place in our first story. It's from Omar Qureshi.

He's currently a law student at Stanford who moonlights as a comic. Or is he a comic who moonlights as a law student? He seems equally devoted to both. He told this story in Anchorage, Alaska, where we partner with the local storytelling group Arctic Entries. Here's Omar Qureshi. What's up? I'm a Pakistani Muslim, and in 2003, I moved to rural Missouri. So not great timing.

I remember when I first moved to Missouri, I was in my first class and the teacher was doing roll call. And she was like, "Omar Quireshi, Omar Quireshi." And I was like, "Yo lady, cool it, I'm new here." And there was a kid in the front of the class, his name was Brett. And he turned around and looked at me and said, "Did she just say Osama Bin Laden?" I was like, "No, she didn't say Osama Bin Laden." He was like, "Alright." Very next day, I go to class. Brett walks right up to me and says, "I talked to my daddy about you."

I was like, oh boy, what'd he say? Are you an Al Qaeda? I was like, no, I'm not an Al Qaeda. He was like, all right, thank God. We can be friends then. I'm like, dude, this kid is an idiot. That's all it took? I can't go to TSA like that? So immediately the start to Missouri was very, very difficult, but not everyone was bad. I actually made a best friend the first day. His name was Brendan. Brendan was great. He had moved to my town from Buffalo, Missouri, and he'd moved there because his dad was a preacher and he was going to take over the local church. And

And Brendan was great. He would later become the captain of all the sports teams at high school. And he loved the town. He said, "Omar, you're gonna love it here. Everyone is so nice and friendly. Like, for example, I just got my haircut at this guy named Troyes, and Troyes is the best, okay? He talked to me about sports, about church. You gotta go see him." So then that day, when my dad picked me up, I was like, "Dad, let's go to Troyes for haircuts." So we went to Troyes. And Troyes is a mobile home.

With like a barber chair in there. And so we walk in and there's a Confederate flag hanging up. And my dad's like, I think we better leave. And I was like, no, dad, we're going to stay. Troy's the best. And he was like, Troy was like, we're not taking any new clientele. And you better get home before it gets dark. And I was like, this business model is flawed. There's no one in here. And my dad's like, we're going.

And we got back in the car and on the way home, my dad didn't say anything about it. And he didn't need to. He still hasn't said anything about it to this day. Because he must have realized that he had taken us to a place where we didn't even feel safe getting our hair cut. And it must have been especially taxing for him because he was a strong Pakistani man. He cared about family more than everything. And it weighed heavily on him. But over time, we really started to feel like we were part of Missouri.

People there are super friendly and kind even though they're pretty racist. Like, I live in San Francisco right now. People there are assholes, alright? Like, they'll protest for you, but they're not gonna like help you with your bags, you know what I mean? And so I really started to love the people in Missouri, and they were so kind and welcoming after a while. And the thing that I love most about Missouri is Kansas City-style barbecue.

Yeah, and Kansas City Barbecue is the best barbecue in the entire world, and no place does it better than a place in Aurora, Missouri called Hogwild. And Hogwild, it's a great barbecue place, but they also have this challenge in which you have to eat eight pounds of nachos. So it's like chips and cheese and barbecue beef brisket and sauce and sour cream. And I know a lot of you are thinking, oh, Omar just said a lot of nachos. It's not what I said. I said eight pounds of nachos.

So one day it was Ramadan and Muslims fast during Ramadan. So I hadn't eaten all day and I was actually sick the day before. So I hadn't eaten for two days in a row. And I was like, today's the day. And I went to Hogwild and my waiter Richard comes up to me and I'm like, Richard, I'll take the Hogwild nachos challenge. And he looked me dead in the eyes and he was like, listen, buddy, there ain't no way in hell an Arab's going to eat that many nachos.

Which I've heard a lot of stereotypes before. But this one seems like it's just you. Haven't heard the old Arab and the nachos thing. So at first, I just wanted to eat a lot of nachos. But to combat racism, I was gonna eat all the nachos. Dude, I'm not even Arab, I'm Pakistani. But in solidarity with the Arab people, I was like, I'm gonna do this.

And I clawed my way, inch by inch, through eight pounds of nachos. And I'm proud to say that I successfully completed that challenge. And if you're thinking like, "Hey Omar, should I do that?" Of course not. It was a horrible mistake. That's 7.75 pounds too many nachos. My body felt horrible afterwards. My mom's a doctor, so afterwards I called her and I was like, "Mom, I think I might be dying." And she was like, "Yeah, you probably are."

You just ate a fat baby's weight in nachos. It would be a medical miracle if you survived. Doesn't feel good. And you know what the prize was for this, by the way? The prize was you got to have your picture put up on the wall. This is the sorriest group of bastards ever assembled. Let me put it to you this way. Every single guy in the pictures was wearing suspenders. Not like a cool Brooklyn hipster way, but in a like, "Yeah, belt's not gonna work" kind of way.

And so after I finished, Richard, the waiter, comes up to me and he was like, "That was incredible. I did not think you could do that." And on that day, I'm proud to say that I earned Richard's respect. And I gotta tell you, it wasn't worth it. Should not have done that at all. And I started to really love all parts of Missouri, and after a while, we started to get a pretty big Muslim population in southwest Missouri. And the reason why is heart disease is a big issue down there.

and Muslims go to med school. So we're like, "We got you, baby!" And we started to get such a big Muslim population in the area that we were able to open up our own mosque in Joplin, Missouri. Yeah.

And it was a super important place for us because not only would people be able to practice their religion, we finally had a space to do that, but it was important for us to have a sense of community. Like there were little girls and little boys who spoke with accents or who wore hijabs, headscarves into class. And in rural Missouri, that was very hard for them. So a lot of them didn't have the confidence to speak up.

But by having a mosque there where we could teach people public speaking and allow them to express their identity as they saw fit, they started to get braver and they started to get more proactive in classes and the place mattered to them. And it was great having this mosque in my hometown. Then I went to college on the East Coast and I was just poking around and I wanted to see how the Monette Cubs high school football team was projected to do in the upcoming season.

So I pull up the local newspaper website, the Joplin Globe, and the headline read, Joplin Mosque Burned to the Ground. And it was during Ramadan, and I knew that my parents were there the night before, and I couldn't allow myself to think of the reality that might have happened. So I pick up my phone, and I called my dad. And the phone rang, and it rang, and there was no answer. And then I called my mom, and my sister, and my brother. No response.

I kept calling throughout the night. And finally, at six in the morning, my dad picks up. He was like, "Hello?" I was like, "Are you alive?" He was like, "Yeah, I think this phone call settles it." And I told him that the mosque had been burnt down. And he said that he left before anything like that happened. And he then went to call and make sure that everyone was all right, and they were. And I would later watch the security camera footage of this because we knew that something bad like this might happen. And you see a face in black and white look up

at the camera. You could see his eyes extra white. And he smiled. And then he turned back down and the next thing you saw was flames burning the building. And I knew that we could not rebuild this mosque. Because no matter how much it meant to our community, no matter how much good it did, it was worth nobody's life. Certainly not my family's. And so with that in mind, I pledged to make sure that no one would rebuild this mosque.

So then, I came home over break, and I asked my dad to take me to Black Cat Lane, which is where the mosque used to stand. And the entire building had been burned to the ground, and the only thing left was a mailbox. And in that mailbox was a letter addressed to the Muslims. A few years before the mosque was burned down, Joplin, Missouri had the worst tornado in basically American history. It leveled the town.

And to try to help out, the Muslims in the community opened up a free clinic. So people, because the ER was so backed up, it was helpful to have a free clinic for more minor wounds. And that letter said, when the tornado struck, I had nowhere to go. No one would take my daughter and my wife, but you did. I don't understand you, and I don't understand your religion. But what I do understand is this, that when we needed you, you were there for us.

But when you needed us, we weren't there for you. Being a Muslim in Missouri means that you have to endure things that you never thought you would have to and that no one should. But I learned that day that it matters and it's worth it. And so we keep trying. Thank you.

That was Omar Qureshi. The Muslim community in Missouri continues to thrive. The mosque was rebuilt, and the good deeds continue. After the fire, many of the local churches and synagogues gathered to support the Muslim community. Omar says that is typical Missouri. He still loves the place.

However, Omar was sad to learn that Hog Wild, home of the eight-pound nacho challenge, has closed its doors. But we were able to get a copy of Omar's picture displayed on the wall after his victorious meal. You can see it at themoth.org. When we return, two stories of love, beginnings and endings. Also, another tornado. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by PRX.

This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. Our next story was told in Sioux Falls, where we partnered with South Dakota Public Broadcasting. The theme was Big Night at the Orphan Theater. And our next storyteller shared a story about her big night. Here's Carrie Adams, live in South Dakota. So when I got married, I was a DIY, crafty, crazy person. From the minute I got engaged, I became obsessed with the details of the wedding.

I thought it was an opportunity to show everybody who we were as a couple, and not that we were just perfect for each other, but that we had perfect taste, too. So I dived into research. I was looking up at cakes and photo booth backdrops and wedding dresses. I was basically the reason Pinterest was invented. And after all of my deep dives, I was ready to go. I started with the invitations. I hand-embroidered every one of my wedding invitations.

and I mailed them in envelopes with vintage stamps I had picked out to match the personalities of every person that I invited. So my dad got a salute to the military stamp, and I had to scour eBay for a vintage WC Fields for a funny friend. I may have some still Elvis's left over, if you're a fan of Presley. But after those were sent off, I started thinking about the reception.

I don't like the smell of flowers. They give me a headache, so I decided to make all of our centerpieces. I would create flowers from buttons from his family and my family. I even made my wedding bouquet. I created flowers from pieces of my grandmother's wedding dress and my mom's wedding veil. And he went along with all of this.

He actually went with me to thrift stores, picking out all the mix-matched vintage plates we would use for the reception, and tracking down all the little toppers for the 12 cakes we were going to have. It's 12. I'm a big believer in cake. So there were things he cared about too, mostly the music. He actually wrote a song for me to walk down the aisle. He composed it and orchestrated it and sent it off to the band, and we got prepared for our big day. It was going to be so beautiful.

Like an anthropology catalog threw up over everything, but that's what I wanted. We got married on April 24th, which is my grandparents' wedding anniversary. They had been married 64 years on the day of my wedding, and I thought by picking that day, it would bring us the same good luck. We were married outside St. Louis, Missouri, in a town called Crevecoeur, which is his hometown, in his sister's backyard. So on April 24th,

We hung all of the twinkling lights in the trees, decorated little stars, put out tables in my beautiful centerpieces, and on every seat laid down a custom-made playbill I had done for the event. Now, in all of this preparation, he failed to mention that April in Missouri is tornado season. I was actually watching a YouTube learning how to fold napkins into the shapes of swans when the tornado siren went off. And then came the rain.

and then hail and winds, and it knocked all of the tables over and all of my beautiful centerpieces into the mud. Six months of making them every night, and they were destroyed. No one saw any of it. Now, luckily, I was marrying a circus clown. That's the only time that's lucky, by the way. But we had invited all of these circus people. So we had trapeze artists and jugglers, and if there is anything they know how to do, it is pitch a tent.

So up went the big top and we cleared out the branches and threw away all of the handmade bunting I had made, got my grandparents out of the tornado shelter that they had been trapped in and were ready to begin. Now our pet rabbit was supposed to be the ring bearer but she was not having it. She wouldn't get in the little cart I made so we just proceeded without her. And I was looking forward to the song, you know, I hadn't heard it and I realized, oh they're not going to play it.

because the band leader had a heart attack. He's fine, but they didn't feel comfortable playing it without him. So instead, I walked down the aisle to the theme song from The West Wing. It's our favorite show, so...

The photographer had never shot a wedding before, so she forgot to bring a flash. And some guests showed up and apparently brought a stomach virus that I had not registered for. So throughout the day, people kept getting sick and dropping like flies. Amongst all of this, the worst part for me was that my dad decided not to come. I didn't ask him to walk me down the aisle, and so he said, "I'm not going to be there."

I have a stepfather that I've had since I was seven years old, and I didn't want to get into the politics of which guy on which arm, so I decided to walk myself. But he didn't like it, and so he chose not to come. My mom called him, I called him, and he said, "Well, I sent a check," as if that's the same thing. I'm his only daughter, and he chose not to come to my wedding. And that will always be true. But I can't do a father and daughter dance by myself.

So I danced with his dad, my grandfather, and as we swayed beneath the big top, he looked at me and said, "Your dad should have been here." And he should have been. And then maybe he would have seen the small fire we had in the kitchen, and all of our hamburger sliders just went up in flames.

He also missed the double rainbow that came out after the storm had finally passed by. And he missed our friends singing us a song from Brigadoon and also House of Pains' Jump Around. And so, after all, it wasn't the details that made the day. I had thought it would be my custom-made crossword puzzle placemats and the specialty cocktail I had made, which was just Jack and Coke. But...

In fact, it was our friends and the family that showed up for us. After all, the details don't make the day, and they don't make the marriage either, because I'm not married anymore. And I don't think a perfectly sunny day and matching escort cards would have changed that. We shouldn't have gotten married. There are some things even cake can't fix. Maybe if I hadn't been so caught up in all of the preparations, I would have realized that.

But there are no articles on Pinterest on how to stay married. And Martha Stewart doesn't really tell you what happens after the big day is over. But even though it began with a storm, it didn't end with one. We were married in Creve Coeur, which literally translates to broken heart. And my dad says now, well, it looks like I didn't miss anything anyway. But he did. He missed a part of my life.

And he also missed our friend, a meatloaf cover artist called Pot Roast, who was also our videographer, singing karaoke in the garage while all of our friends danced in the puddles. So we missed a lot. You would think that with all this, I would sort of be sick of weddings. I mean, there are people who think they're a scam, but I love weddings. I love the details and the stuff and...

So I just became a wedding planner. I've married about 25 couples, and there have been no tornadoes at any of them. They've all been beautiful, had perfectly detailed days, and I've added more and more pins. I probably have about 6,000 now, all of these ideas going through my head. And so if I ever get married again, I'm totally going to elope. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

That was Carrie Adams. In addition to being a wedding planner, Carrie also runs an online store called The Plumfield Shop. Her dream? To be a magician's assistant. I'm just putting that out there for you, Carrie. All it takes is one big break. To see some pictures from Carrie's wedding, all the Etsy details, visit themoth.org. I keep meaning to ask Carrie if she includes karaoke led by Pot Roast as part of her standard wedding package. That would be a big seller, I think. I'm waiting.

Next up is Donna Otter. We first met her at the Moth Story Slam in Portland, Oregon. She told this story at a show in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where we partner with public radio station KANW. Here's Donna Otter. I'm 43. I've been divorced for about a year after a 21-year marriage. And I'm getting ready to go to a tantric body painting party.

Yeah, for my first big solo venture out, I've decided to get naked and let strangers paint on me. It's a chance to be someone new. Nobody will know me. And, you know, I got some stuff to learn for sure. Like, I don't even know what tantra is really, except I've heard it's something of some kind of spiritual intimacy practice where people meet each other as gods and goddesses.

And there's a lot of eye contact. I'm craving intimacy. You know, I just want to get out and have fun and play. But I'm scared, too, of course, to get out there. But then the email came, this invitation for a tantric body painting party. And I thought, I can do this. I like paint. So I signed up. And now I'm wondering, what does one wear to a naked party?

Body painting party. And I'm starting to have second thoughts about the whole thing. But I can't back out because they have to have an exact count. And they're always scrounging for goddesses. So I just put on a long loose dress and grab my rooster mask. Ever done this? And head out. So the party takes place at a nice suburban home in the hills of Southern California, of course.

And I'm greeted at the door by Francoise, who is a voluptuous sexologist. And she leads me out to the backyard, which is like some kind of midsummer night's dream. There's twinkle lights in the trees and a table overflowing with fruit and wine, and I can see the paints glistening over there on the patio. And there's all these interesting people. There's a woman walking around with just like two daisies tied on with little strings.

And Francoise keeps bringing more and more interesting, luscious people out into the yard. And then she brings out my ex-husband. So of course I'm horrified. And then I'm like, "Thank God there's someone here I know." And then I'm like, "No, no, no, no, don't look at me. I'm trying to be single here." And I just keep looping, like horrified, grateful, "No!" And he's kind of doing the same thing over there.

Somehow we just managed to go forward into the party and avoid each other. But then, Françoise rings the gong and gathers us all together for the pujas, which are these spiritual exercises. We're all still clothed at this point, I want to assure you. And she gets all of us women together in a circle facing out, and all the men are around us facing in, so we're all partnered up.

And she's going to lead us through these exercises where every goddess will connect with every god. So here I am facing this stranger, looking into his eyes, and I'm really pretty surprised at how easy it is to connect with a stranger just looking into his eyes and not saying anything. And then we bow and we step to the side.

And then Francoise asks us to put our hand on our partner's heart. And then his hand is on my heart. And I look into his eyes, and I breathe. And then I bow and step to the side and face another new partner. Now for this one, the man is the rocky shore, and I am to be the ocean washing up. And then we bow, step to the side, and then there's no avoiding it.

Yeah, you saw it coming. I'm face to face with the man that I was married to for 21 years. Francoise doesn't know us, but the puja that she puts out to the group at that point is, you two have known each other for a very long time. You have a rich and complex history. Hold each other and feel all of that depth and then release each other into your futures.

So we gaze into each other's eyes. Can't help noticing he finally trimmed his eyebrows. We're having more eye contact right now than we probably had in the whole last year of our marriage. And then we hold each other and we feel all of that complexity. Because you see, we never had a divorce ritual before.

I remember the moment that the mediator pushed the paper across the desk, and I was to put a checkmark in a box that said, dissolution of marriage. And it hit me, this is it, this is that moment. After more than two decades, a grand wedding, two daughters, all of our birthdays and anniversaries, and 21 New Year's Eve's,

And this is it? It comes down to a checkmark in a box? And when I started to cry, the mediator said, "Oh, I always hate it when people cry." And I thought, "Really? Maybe you should get a different line of work." But now here we are. Life and Francoise has given us a divorce ritual. So we hold each other, and we feel all of that complexity and depth. And then we release each other.

into our separate futures and bow and step to the side and complete the circle. And then Francoise shoes us all off into the yard under the warm sky and the twinkle lights into the patio with the glistening paints where we step out of our clothes and find a partner and a brush and paint each other

Into the colorful birds and wild animals that underneath it all, we all are. Thank you. Donna Otter shared some photos from the night of the body painting party. You can find them on our website, themoth.org. And you'll know which one is Donna because her face is the only one not blurred out. She did that to protect the innocent. Oh, and also she's wearing the rooster hat she mentioned.

Side note, Donna ended up dating a guy she met that very night at that very party. And I'm going to put that out there as a little nudge to everyone. Leave your comfort zone once in a while. Tantric body painting is probably a bit too far for most. Baby steps first. Join a choir. Or bowling anyone? Coming up, a story about an unconventional pregnancy when the Moth Radio Hour continues.

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by the public radio exchange, PRX.org. You're listening to The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. Next up, our final story. It's another from our show in Albuquerque with our partners KANW. Here's Tristan Reese live in New Mexico. Thank you.

It's a bright spring morning in the middle of the backwoods of Oregon and I am volunteering to cut trail with my partner Biff. He's just ahead of me on the path and just suddenly I know that it's time for me to ask the question that's been building up between us for months now. "Hey Biff, do you want to have a baby?" Silence. He turns around and I see that he is laughing at me. "This is the stupidest idea you have ever had." "No, I don't want to have a baby."

In his defense, we had our hands full. We were actually already parents. One year into our relationship, his sister couldn't take care of her kids, and they came to stay with us for a little while. Well, a little while became a long while, became forever, and our adoption of Haley and Riley had just become final. They were ages five and seven, and we were just starting to get that taste of freedom that comes when you have big kids. The second reason that he said no is because he knew that when I asked if we could have a baby,

I was asking if I could get pregnant and give birth to a baby. This isn't some kind of feat of modern science. I'm just transgender.

For me, that means that I was born female. I was raised as a girl. The best way that I had when I was a teenager of explaining what was going on with me was I used to joke that I was a gay man trapped in a woman's body. And as I got older, that literal feeling of feeling trapped in the wrong body got more and more pervasive and painful until it became literally unbearable and I wasn't sure I could keep going.

And then I met a transgender person. And I realized that it wasn't a joke at all. I actually was a gay man trapped in a woman's body. And this was great news because it meant that there was a solution to this problem. And there was a name for it and there was a community of people that I could go to. But most importantly, it meant that I could stay alive and I could transition and I could be happy, which is what I did. I started taking testosterone and that made me look like I do now, like every other gay man in Portland.

And it turns out that I'm the kind of transgender person who was just like fine with just hormones. I didn't have any other surgeries or anything, which means that I have a fully functioning uterus and totally healthy eggs. And Biff is not trans. He's just a normal gay dude. He's not normal. He's special. But you know what I mean. So between the two of us, even though we are two men, we have everything we need to make our own baby.

And we've known dozens of other transgender men like me with beards and everything who have given birth to happy, beautiful children. We knew it was possible, but it had been hard for pretty much all of them. And Biff was really worried about my safety navigating the world as a pregnant man.

But I live in a world of rainbows and unicorns. And I just hoped that it was going to be okay. And I also am not good at taking no for an answer. So eventually he did say yes, and I went to a doctor and everything was in good working order. I stopped my hormones and we started trying. And a few months went by.

Nothing happened, and I started to think maybe it wasn't gonna happen for us after all. And just when I started to feel peaceful about that, I woke up one morning and I felt really gross. And I had read all the pregnancy books, you know, and everything about pregnancy, and I'd been tracking everything on the app, you know? But it wasn't the right time for me to get to be pregnant, and so I refused to take the pregnancy test, and then Biff made me, and I took it, and there were two lines, and I was pregnant.

and there was going to be a baby and I was so excited but also super scared because you have to do a lot of things to get ready for a baby like pick a name and buy diapers and learn how to take care of a baby.

Haley and Riley had been toddlers when they came to live with us, so I didn't know what to do with a baby. And then my body started to change really quickly. And all of those markers of femininity, everything just got bigger everywhere. And I had anticipated this, that it would be the worst part of being pregnant. But it actually ended up being okay.

And I think it's because really early on in my transition, I just had to accept the fact that my body is going to be different. I can't go back in time and be born with a body that's more like Biff's or my dad's, and I could spend the rest of my life obsessing over all the things my body cannot do. Or I could get excited about the thing that it can do that their bodies can't, which is to create life. So that's what I did. I just leaned into that, and then I just let everything else go.

And right around this time, we had a chance to tell our story publicly.

And I don't know about you all, but basically every story I've ever heard about a transgender person has been something terrible has happened to us. And that's, I think, why it had been so scary for me to come out as trans, because our lives are misery, says the media. And I thought maybe we could tell a different kind of story. Because yes, there is hardship in being transgender, especially for trans people who are not like me. Transgender women and trans people of color

But for all of us, there's also joy and love and resilience and family. And I wanted to tell that story, and I hope the world was ready. And we didn't think it was a big deal for me to be a pregnant man. Everybody else did.

And I don't know if they still say, like, go viral, but that is what happened to our story. Basically overnight, pregnant man was everywhere, like Yahoo News, if anyone still reads that. CNN, Washington Post, People Magazine, pregnant man. And I thought that maybe this is good. You know, maybe people are ready for this next evolution and what it could mean to be transgender. And I live in Portland, and let me tell you, people were ready.

for my story in Portland. In Portland, like maybe if you see a pregnant man at Starbucks, that's not the weirdest thing you've seen that day. They were into it, you know?

And trans kids would come up to me with their parents, like in the grocery store, and just say thank you for helping them understand that there's more than one way to be a man and more than one way to be trans. A lady once told me that she adopted her niece too, and she thought it was marvelous that my body could give me the life I deserve while also bringing new life into the world. Outside of the Portland bubble, not everyone was ready for this story.

I became really good friends with the puking emoji because I would just get hundreds of messages on Facebook that was just that. People would tell me that I wasn't a man at all, I'm just a really ugly, hairy woman, and that I was going to give birth to a monster. And then one woman sent me a message that said, "As a Christian, I hope that you give birth to a dead baby."

Because that baby would be better off than a baby that has to be born to someone like you. I was six months pregnant when I read that message. Now, I have been trans for a long time, 15 years. Actually, at age 35, I am past the point of average life expectancy for a trans person in America today. I think that I'm resilient and strong and powerful, but the truth is, I started to lose hope.

for our country and for trans people that we would ever be loved in the way we deserve. And all of those stories started to seep in. One night, I had a really horrible nightmare where I was giving birth not to a baby, but to a monster.

with two heads and a forked tongue and a tail. And I woke up, and I was crying and shaking, and Biff was like, what's wrong? And I couldn't tell him. All I could say was, they hate us. And I didn't really know that before, that people hate us.

And that fear that I was going to give birth to a monster came with me into every doctor's visit. I would always look at the ultrasound and ask the technician, on a scale of 1 to 10, what are the chances that I'm going to give birth to a monster? And I carried that fear with me until I had to call the hospital to let them know I was coming in to give birth.

I talked to the head nurse on the phone and I said, listen, I'm a man and I'm coming in to give birth in your hospital and it is my expectation that you will make sure that I am treated with integrity by every single person that comes into my room, doctors, nurses, midwives, the person who comes to change my trash. I want them to understand what they're walking into because I can't deal with that on top of dealing with this. And she said, I got it. And she did.

And every single person that I worked with at that hospital was amazing. And Biff was there, and my dad came down from Canada to be there, and my mother-in-law. And it was two days of labor, which it's called labor for a reason. It's hard work. But then before I knew it, they're putting the stirrups up and telling me, oh, it's going to be time to push soon, like not a big deal. And I realized I had learned everything about pregnancy before.

but nothing about actual childbirth. My brain flashes to a book sitting unopened on my bedside table. It's called "Prepare to Push." I had not read it. I was not prepared to push. I start hyperventilating, panicking. I turn to Biff and I say, "I'm so sorry, but I'm not... I can't do this. I'm not strong enough." I turn to the midwife and I say, "I'm gonna die." She is not fazed by this. She has heard it before.

I guess. And she bends down and gets nose to nose with me and she says, "You are doing a good job. The best job. No one on earth is doing as good a job as you are right now." And this was like a magic spell. I realized I could do this and I held Biff's hand and I held my dad's hand and I pushed.

And I pushed as hard as I could. And at one point I looked down and there's just goosebumps all over my arms and all over my legs. And then I don't know what's going on, but I start puking all over everyone. And because I'm Canadian, I start apologizing to everyone for throwing up on them while I'm in labor. But eventually they start screaming at me to slow down and stop pushing, just pushing teeny tiny bits. And everyone is yelling and there's all this noise. And then everything stops.

and there's this wet slurping sound and then he's out and they hold my baby up in the light and he's glistening like all those movies you ever saw and he opens his mouth and he lets out his first cry and his voice echoes through me and all of that hope that i thought i lost it all comes rushing back because a baby means hope it means you believe there will be a tomorrow that the world is good enough for your child

And they put him on my chest, and he feels like a baby bird. And before Haley and Riley run in to meet their baby brother, I look down at him, and he has 10 fingers and 10 toes and a full head of black curly hair just like me. And that's when I realized he could have been a monster. He could have had two heads and a forked tongue and a tail, and I would have loved him just the same. To me, he would have been perfect. Thank you.

That was Tristan Rees. To see pictures of Tristan pregnant, and then with the baby, and with Biff, and the whole family, visit themoth.org. I spoke with Tristan to get some more details about his extraordinary story, and I asked him what it's like to be alive at a time where so many boundaries are changing.

Yeah, I mean, I hope that we're evolving as human beings. And I know that, you know, my mom actually, when I was pregnant, bumped into a friend of hers who's also in her 70s and living in Canada. And the woman was kind of jokingly saying something about her dysfunctional family. And my mom thinks that she's going to one-up her friend and says, oh, you think that's crazy? My son is pregnant now.

And instead of being totally shocked and dismayed, as my mother expected, the woman's eyes just totally filled with tears. And she was like, Janet, isn't it amazing that we've lived to see this world where anybody can be whatever they most want to be? And that's what I sort of like to imagine is not that things are changing, but that opportunities are opening up and doors are opening up that have been closed for people like me for a millennia.

Do you find that people make assumptions because you gave birth to the baby that you have a more maternal role? And is that even, is that an offensive question even? I don't know. No, no, it's not. I mean, I think that it's like totally healthy to be curious about the way that roles play out in any LGBT family, because I think a lot of people were born into the assumption that

moms do a certain thing and dads or men do a certain thing. And for us, we've kind of taken all those puzzle pieces and shaken them up and then made something completely new. So I work full time. I'm more of the like traditional like breadwinner role. So even though I carried and gave birth to Leo, I work and Biff, who did not give birth to him, stays home full time and is that sort of frontline parent for all three of our kids. And what tips do you have for people who are welcoming parents

trans people into their lives or recognizing them for the first time? I mean, so many, but I think the primary thing I try to teach allies is like sometimes

someone feels like their goal as an ally is to like not offend someone. And I feel like you're going to fail if that's your goal, only because it is still so difficult to be trans in America today, that whether you mean to or not, you're probably going to step into something that for us, there's like a big well of hurt there. I think about it like a bruise. You don't have to hit a bruise very hard for it to really hurt. So for me, like your goal as an ally shouldn't

be, "Oh, I don't want to offend you." Your goal should be the kind of person where if someone says, "Hey, I don't like that," or, "I use this word instead," or, "That really hurts me," that you can be the kind of person that's like, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Tell me what I should say instead," and that's it. You know, that you're not super defensive, that you don't try to turn it back around on them or throw yourself an apology parade where all of a sudden we are trying to make you feel better for some reason. Don't do that.

Be that kind of person that can say, oh, I'm so sorry. What can I do instead? That's like my number one tip. Be open, be curious, and be wrong and have that be okay. Words of wisdom for all of us from Tristan Reese. You can get more advice and follow the exciting adventures of his family. Find out how at themoth.org. That's it for this all over the map episode of the Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time. And that's the story from the moth.

Your host this hour was Jennifer Hickson. Jennifer also directed the stories in the show along with Maggie Cino and Catherine McCarthy. The rest of the Moss directorial staff includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Janess, and Mick Bowles. Production support from Timothy Lou Lee. Moss Stories are True is remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from Julian Lodge, Bill Frizzell, and Thomas Morgan, Blake Noble, and Kelly Jo Phelps. You can find us on Twitter at

You can find links to all the music we use at our website. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by me, Jay Allison, with Vicki Merrick at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. This hour was produced with funds from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.