School called CAS on parents questioning child's trans identity
"Julie’s life turned upside down after COVID hit. Barely ten, and physically isolated from much of the world, in early 2021 she installed TikTok and began spending hours online, falling down social media rabbit holes. She eventually “discovered the LGBTQ+ community” and started questioning her identity...
“Transgender activists were actively posting videos about ‘safe’ breast binding and how euphoric testosterone makes you feel and how it makes all your problems suddenly disappear. The more I was brainwashed by these videos, the more I started to resonate with them,” she wrote.
Julie began identifying privately as non-binary in 2021, at the start of Grade 5. She came out to her class at the beginning of 2022.
With the help of a teacher in York Catholic District School Board (YCDSB), her parents were kept in the dark about her use of “they/them” pronouns and a new masculinized name in the classroom. Only in June 2022 did her parents learn what was quietly going on in school. When they objected and asked school leaders to include them in conversations about their daughter, the school called the Children’s Aid Society (CAS), which investigated the family.
In December 2023, Julie detransitioned after realizing she’d been swept up in a social fad that overlooked her underlying mental health issues. Now, her family is raising the alarm about the power schools have to keep parents in the dark.
“It was a horrible time for me as a parent because so much was happening behind my back. I didn’t know for a long while about many things that were happening. I suspected that something was really wrong,” Julie’s mother, Christina, said...
“I was a bit of a tomboy,” Julie wrote in an essay, shared with the Post, reflecting on her childhood and this confusing period in her life. “I loved sports and I had friends who were boys, but I never experienced gender dysphoria. I loved dresses and I felt comfortable being a girl.”
Julie said she started to go through puberty when she was 10 years old, earlier than her peers, and she felt like an outcast.
“I didn’t have many friends at the time, and I was being bullied by people in my class so, of course, I wanted to be part of a community that loves me,” Julie told National Post in an interview. Her bodily discomfort coincided with several classmates identifying across the gender identity spectrum. “I think, unfortunately, that started it,” Julie said.
Christina said at the time she was unaware that her daughter’s school board permitted children to socially transition without the consent or knowledge of their guardians...
The Ontario Association of Children’s Aid Societies, a group which represents the majority of children’s aid societies in the province, said in a statement that while they could not discuss the specifics of Julie’s case, in general, the body has observed an uptick in gender identity-related calls in recent years.
“Anecdotally, we are hearing from our member agencies that they are increasingly being contacted by community members about issues related to gender identity,” spokesperson Brynne Clarke wrote in an email. “When assessing a concern raised about the well-being of a child or youth, child welfare agencies must ensure they are adhering to Katelynn’s Principle, which puts children and youth’s voices and identities at the centre of all decision-making.”...
Christina and her husband were alarmed by Julie’s change in gender identity and how much she knew about surgical options and hormonal therapy. “I was shocked how much a child knows and where this information is coming from,” she told the Post.
Julie began wearing a chest binder constantly, which led to a heated fight with her parents. Her skin was bruising because of it and Christina feared that it would have long-term health implications. Then, Julie ran away in mid-September. She was hospitalized after running away with the intent to self-harm.
Julie’s interactions with medical professionals throughout this time were overshadowed by gender-affirming advice, she said.
When she was just 11, Julie wrote, her family doctor assured her that “binding is perfectly healthy,” and asked if she was interested in learning about puberty blockers. A psychiatrist warned her parents that if they did not affirm her trans identity, she could kill herself, Julie said.
“At that age, I can’t make a conscious decision about medical interventions with an extremely high risk of life-threatening side effects that could make me unable to ever conceive a child,” she wrote in her essay. “All accepted that I’m a boy and never tried to dig up any underlying problems that might be causing these suicidal ideations.”
When Julie ran away, her principal called CAS, relaying Christina’s opposition to Julie’s transgender identity as a potential “culprit of conflict,” states a report from the Children’s Aid Society...
The school pinned Julie’s struggles on Christina’s failure to affirm her new trans identity. Christina said she believes these calls “for sure” resulted in subsequent CAS home visits and follow-ups...
By January 2023, Christina was still seeking assurances from the school to ensure Julie’s legal name was being used by teachers and administrators. According to an email exchange shared with the Post, the principal responded by telling her that such demands were causing Julie “trauma” and that her “role as an administrator is to support the students in my care.”
Within days of the exchange, the principal placed a third call to CAS in five months, sharing her concerns about Christina’s parenting style. “Caller said ‘she knows that the family loves their child and want the best for the child but they are doing a lot of damage emotionally at this time,’” the heavily redacted CAS report says...
Marty Moore, a lawyer with Charter Advocates Canada, a group which advocates for the protection of constitutional rights, said “this is not a unique situation,” in an email to the Post. “Parents across the country have experienced similar reactions from schools when they express caution or hesitancy about their child identifying as a different sex.” The lawyer said he fears that the “broad statutory language leaves significant room for school officials, and CAS personnel, to be guided by their own subjective views concerning a child’s emotional harm.”...
Throughout Grade 6, Julie’s pattern of running away, periodic self-harm, and hospitalizations continued. Julie said that the lack of support her parents initially showed was distressing. However, she said that the decision by school administrators to exclude her parents from the beginning greatly exacerbated her issues.
“Because the school was hiding a lot of stuff from my parents, I was just trying my best not to accidentally tell my parents about that stuff”...
Christina looks back on Julie’s time in Grade 6 as when “the real hell for us started.” Caring for her daughter, while navigating the legal and educational worlds, visiting hospitals and dealing with surprise CAS visits, became all-encompassing. The stress began taking a physical and mental toll on her, too. “I had to quit my job to be involved because I kept writing letters to the teacher. The teacher and the principal never responded,” Christina said.
Julie continued to struggle with her gender identity and mental health into the early months of Grade 7. After moving to a neighbouring middle school, Christina discovered that the principal voluntarily offered to let Julie use the boy’s washrooms and change rooms without their daughter first proposing the idea...
Julie’s life turned a corner in November 2023, when her father brought home a copy of Irreversible Damage by Abigail Shrier. The book argues that many young girls experienced rapid onset gender dysphoria (ROGD) as a result of social contagion. Julie’s father bought the book for himself and warned Julie that she wouldn’t understand it and would be “triggered by it,” she wrote. Although Julie thought the book was “transphobic,” she decided to read it out of curiosity.
“After reading about detransitioners and how they came to identify as transgender, I understood I was heading in the wrong direction and needed to turn around before I hurt my loved ones or myself,” she wrote.
Soon after, Julie ditched her chest binder and began reverting to her female identity. However, the stream of applause and support she’d received after initially identifying as non-binary, and then as trans, was nowhere to be seen after desisting, she said.
“When we announced that she wants to go back to female pronouns, everyone kept asking: ‘Are you sure? Are you sure you want to transition?’” Christina told the Post, before Julie cut in. “‘Are you sure your parents are not pushing this on you?’”
Despite assuring her friends and teachers that detransitioning was a voluntary choice, Julie feels it has impacted her social life. “I did not really lose any friends, but my closest friends seem to be, pushing away from me. Like, they’re not talking to me as much, and they’re part of the LGBTQ” community.
As the tide of her transgender identity receded, Julie was left to grapple with the underlying mental health issues that had been overlooked since 2022. She self-harmed after detransitioning, but this time, the mental health counsellor evaluated her with traits of borderline personality disorder, bulimia, and anxiety stemming from body image issues. Christina now feels that her daughter is doing “much better than throughout Grade 6” and is finally addressing her mental health problems.
Julie’s journey dealing with mental health issues, having educators actively hiding what was going on, and finally getting a diagnosis addressing her underlying issues, highlighted the shortcomings of Ontario’s school policies to Christina.
“I was an enemy to my child in their face. If I didn’t support her, don’t call her ‘he,’” she said. “They were giving me a hint that I am, you know, transphobic, homophobic.”
Julie said that suicidal thoughts continued into the middle of April this year, but that her outlook has improved considerably since the summer break.
She attributed part of her ongoing mental health struggles to classmates unwilling to call her by her birth name.
This week, she’s starting Grade 8 at a new school where she hopes to make new friends “who don’t know my past.”"
