This is the story of how Emery Walters became whom he was supposed to be.<br><br>I knew I was male at an early age, something that was a societal no-no in the 1950s and still is in parts of the country today. Burying my male identity, I strove to be the best woman possible. But after raising my four wonderful children from two debilitating marriages, I found myself alone and nearly penniless. That was when Emery asserted his identity.<br><br>Life became better with the shift from female to male, a third marriage, and a wife who, herself, transitioned from male to female.

Some Fine Day

The SFL, of which my husband became president of the local chapter, involved get-togethers, activism, speaking to Wayne State College classes on diversification or minority groups. I’d almost forgotten about that. Two odd things happened at one of those lectures we spoke at. I called a black person ‘colored’ and he got into my face and shouted repeatedly, “WHAT COLOR?” I had to think, because he was brown or tan or beige (words!!! Semantics!) but I finally squeaked out ‘Black?’ which was what he had wanted. I excused myself and went to the ladies room, quite shaken up. A girl followed me…pretty sure she was a lesbian, not that I figured that out at the time! Double your confusion, all at once. And I thought I was there because I was marginalized. At least lesbians liked me.


Chapter 20