During this summertime, I met the cutest little boy you could ever meet. His name was Claire. He was put in the girls group, had to eat lunch with the girls, used the girls locker room to change. But he wanted to be a boy.

I am warning you now, Claire is a boy, for all intents and purposes. I will always use male pronouns, but not everyone does. I apologize for any confusion.

The first day I saw Claire, I thought the camp had made a mistake. Although the camp was very progressive, camp policies were very strict in sex separation, for legal reasons. So when I saw the stereotypical short hair, hulk t-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes, I asked a coworker of mine who the little boy was in girls one. She replied, that's a girl. I was surprised. Shocked for a moment. Then a rush of gratitude and pride surged through me. I'm an open pansexual and pretty much one of the most understanding people when it comes to gender fluidity. Seeing this boy, who was by nature a girl, show that he is actually a boy, gave me hope. I had to meet him.

Because I ran the arts and crafts portion of the camp, it wasn't long until little Claire's group came around to see me. But I also saw some of the other older boys and girls groups. I overheard a lot of, "who's that boy?" and "that can't be a girl, he's a boy." I fully expected Claire to be ostracized by the rest of her group. To my amazement, little Claire arrived at the arts and crafts area with a huge smile on his face, like he was having he most fun in the world. His counselor confided in me that "she" was having a hard day, because "she" didn't want to swim. I could tell that this group counselor wasn't phased by Claire's choice of clothes, but still was attached to the gender specific pronouns.

I introduced myself to the group. I had each child say their name, and their favorite food. Claire's was spaghetti. I admired the enthusiasm. I set up an easy activity for the campers to do while I watched them interact. Claire got along with the other kids, he played the games and was excited to do them. I felt a smile creep onto my face.

After the group left, one of my assistant counselors, Cara, asked me, "I feel bad for that girl." Although I knew exactly which girl Cara was talking about, I said "which girl?" "You know, the one who acted like a boy, I bet the other girls pick on her, It must be hard for her parents." This hit me hard, how could she say that? This little boy is showing who he is! Then I thought, what if he doesn't really want to be a boy, what if his parents are making him dress like that? What if he just liked the clothes? Cara interrupted my thoughts ,"I just have a hard time with the he/she thing you know? What if I say him by accident and hurt her feelings?" "Well, you could ask," I said. "Asking what they want to be called is the easiest way to learn." I didn't mention the times in the past where I had to ask trans and asexual adults what gender they preferred to be called, if at all. Cara never knew I was pansexual, no-one at the camp did.

I saw Claire every day, in the mornings when he would be dropped off, during the day when he was playing, when he left the main camp to go to extended, an after camp program for kids who can't get picked up when the day ends. I made it my personal duty to protect this boy, though this might have hurt my reputation as a counselor, I didn't care. When I saw Claire crying one day, I pulled him aside and comforted him, made sure everything was okay. I chose him more to talk, had him lead more games, it was hard for me to not show my favoritism for Claire. If the other counselors noticed, I never heard. This went on for a week. On a Tuesday of week two of the camp, a director, the camp's equivalent to a manager, called me over to tell me to call the camp's main office, the executive director wanted to talk. I was good friends with the executive director, but I was still scared out of my mind, what would she say? Had she heard I was favoring one camper? Was I being fired? I pulled out my cell, and dialed the office, and asked to talk to the big boss. When I got on the line she asked if I was busy after camp. I said "No, why do you ask?" "Well, I need someone to cover a counselor at extended, Kim called in sick." Relieved that I wasn't in trouble, I said sure, I'll do it. She thanked me and hung up. Then I realized what I just agreed to. Another 4 hours of work, paid, but tiring after a previous 6 hours. After camp ended that day, I drove to the extended site, and waited for the campers to show up. It wasn't until I saw Claire's face in the crowd that I remembered that he went to extended. At extended, campers aren't bound to a set schedule or group, and can play with campers from other age groups. The counselors were there to supervise, and keep the campers attention. I made a beeline to Claire. His face couldn't contain the smile that appeared the moment he saw me. He ran to hug me, burying his head into my stomach, saying "What are you doing here?" "I came to help, since Kim is sick." "Yay!!" he cheered, and grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the mud river. We sat in the mud, making mud balls, and building structures out of mud and rocks, some other campers joining in. We started talking. "Claire? Do you want to be a boy?" I asked. He looked at me ," Yes, I do. I like being a boy." I smiled at him, "Okay, so if I said 'Claire wants cookies' should I say 'he wants cookies?'" I was a bit scared to ask this, but felt like I had to, to clear up the little confusion in my head. "Yep!!" he said, and that's all I needed. Then he asked "Do you like my mud ball?" I nearly started to cry.

For the rest of the week, I called the office every day to see if I could work at extended. And for the rest of the week, the executive director said she didn't need me. Claire asked me if I could go to extended with him. It killed me to say no. It wasn't until Friday morning that I caught a huge break. The executive director called me. "We have a lot of new campers coming to extended and need more people to work. Can you do extended for the next two weeks?" I couldn't say yes fast enough. I told Claire that afternoon when he asked if I was going to be at extended, "Not today, but all next week, and the week after that!!" Claire was so excited. I gave him a hi-five and he ran back to his group. Claire and I were best friends from then on. But this wasn't always a good thing. Claire, being the six year old he was, needed me to help with anything he did, even when I wasn't around. He often told me I was his favorite counselor, and didn't like to do anything, like ride horses and swim, without me. Claire's group counselor didn't understand the reasons why he wasn't participating, Claire never told any other counselor. I had to tell Claire that he had to participate, because I wanted him to have fun. His group counselor never had problems again. During my time at extended, I was able to meet Claire's mom. She approached me and asked if I was the counselor Claire talked nonstop about. I smiled, flattered. Claire's mom called Claire over to where we were standing. Claire introduced me to his mom, and gave me a hug and a hi-five, and said goodbye. Over time, I was able to talk to Claire's mom even more. "Oh she loves it here," his mom said one time, "she has so much fun." We talked about what Claire liked to do and his life outside camp. We never touched on Claire's decision to be a boy. I could tell that mom didn't want to talk about it. In our conversations, I always said "he" referring to Claire, while mom said "she". I was sad to see Claire on the last day of camp, knowing that I wouldn't see him next Monday. I cried that night. Claire cried that day. And I couldn't say anything to make it better. Claire is a wonderful little boy. Whether or not he stays a boy, or decides to be a girl again, I hope he is happy. His strength and courage to go against what everyone thought gives me hope for our future. Claire had a wonderful summer, and because of Claire I had one of the best summers of my life. I hope he remembers his friend, but I know if he forgets, I will remember.