The People of Many Colors: A True Story About Erasure and Remembering

(Will one day publish as a children’s book)

Once upon a time, all across the world, people lived in many different ways. Some were tall, some were short. Some loved to dance, others loved to fish. And when it came to gender … the way people feel about being a boy, a girl, both, or neither … there was no one right way to be. Everyone just lived as themselves, and in many places, that was okay. In fact, it was special.

In the forests, deserts, mountains, and islands, there were people who felt like girls even though they were born boys. There were people who felt like boys even though they were born girls. Some people felt like both, or like something in between. Some people had a different gender from day to day. And many cultures believed these people had a unique gift …the gift of understanding more than one way of being.

In the tall pine forests of North America, Native tribes had a name for these people… Two-Spirit. They believed that a person who had both a masculine and feminine spirit could see the world in a deeper, wiser way. Two-Spirit people were often leaders, artists, or healers. They were not made fun of …they were honored.

Across the ocean in India, there were people called Hijras who had existed for thousands of years. They were born male, female, or in between, but lived in a way that was all their own. They were called upon to give blessings at weddings and births. They were thought to be magical, in a good way.

In the Pacific Islands, in places like Samoa, there were fa’afafine …people who weren’t exactly boys or girls, but something beautifully in between. Families knew and accepted them. Nobody thought they were strange. They were just part of the village.

In the Philippines, there were bakla …people who were usually born male but had a feminine spirit and were known for their creativity and kindness. People saw them as talented, fun, and full of life.

In Africa, there were women who married other women and men who lived in ways that didn’t match their birth gender. These people weren’t hiding …they were just being themselves.

All of these people had names, stories, and places in their communities. Their lives were colorful and bright. Their hearts were full of laughter and song. They had existed for generations …far longer than anyone alive today.

But then, something changed.

One by one, ships came to these lands. Big ships with tall sails. People from faraway places like Europe came, and they didn’t come to visit. They came to take. They called themselves explorers or missionaries. They said they came to help. But they didn’t understand the people already living there, and they didn’t want to. They brought new rules, new laws, and a new way of thinking.

These newcomers believed there were only two genders… boy and girl. They said anything else was wrong, sinful, or shameful. They had a book that told them so. They made people cut their hair, change their clothes, and stop living the way they always had. They burned books and banned ceremonies. They said, “You must be like us, or you’re not civilized.”

They erased stories, changed languages, and made people hide. They told everyone that only boys could marry girls. That only girls could wear dresses. That there was no such thing as Two-Spirit, fa’afafine, hijra, or bakla. They put people in jail for being themselves. Sometimes they hurt them. Sometimes they made them disappear.

This wasn’t just mean. It was colonialism …when one group of people tries to take over others and force them to be the same. And it didn’t just hurt people’s bodies …it hurt their memories, their stories, and their history.

And slowly, slowly, the beautiful rainbow of genders that once danced across the world began to dim. Not because the people were gone, but because they were told to stay quiet.

Whole generations grew up not knowing that people like them had once been celebrated. They believed there were only two choices… boy or girl. If they didn’t fit in those boxes, they thought something was wrong with them. But there was nothing wrong at all. They had just been lied to.

Then, something started to change again.

People began to speak up. One by one, then ten by ten, then hundreds, then thousands. They started saying, “I’m transgender.” “I’m non-binary.” “I’m Two-Spirit.” “I’m a fa’afafine.” “I’m me.”

They wrote books and poems. They made music and art. They told the world… “We’ve always been here.”

At first, some people laughed at them. Some people were angry. “You’re just making that up!” they shouted. “This is something new. This is a trend. It’s only happening now.”

But the truth is, those people were wrong.

Being trans is not something new. It is not a modern idea. It is something old, wise, and beautiful …just like the people who lived it long before anyone called it “trans.”

If the world forgot about gender-diverse people, it wasn’t because they never existed. It was because colonialism tried to erase them.

And now, remembering is an act of courage.

Telling the truth about history …even the hard parts, is one of the most powerful things we can do. It helps us heal. It helps us understand each other. And it helps us make sure the same mistakes aren’t repeated.

So if you are someone who doesn’t feel like just a boy or just a girl … or you’re someone who changes, or feels different …you are not alone. You are part of something ancient and brave. Your story matters.

And if you are someone who does feel like a boy or a girl, but wants to be kind and fair, you can be part of the remembering too. You can say, “I believe you.” You can say, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Now, every time someone says that being trans or non-binary is just a “new thing,” you’ll know the truth. You can say:

“Nope. People like this have always existed. It’s just that colonialism tried to make everyone forget.”

And you’ll be right.

You’ll be one more person helping to bring back the colors that were never supposed to be erased.

Because the world isn’t just black and white. It’s full of every shade …and all of them belong.