Words for a legend

Over the Olympic campaign, and in the build up to it, I've said nothing about Laurel Hubbard - and that's remarkable, because if having opinions were an Olympic sport, this lady bloggeress would be bringing home GOLD.

I haven't commented because I don't fully understand the issues. I know that Hubbard competed within the rules, and she worked damn hard for years, through great challenges, to get there.

Beyond that, I feel ill-equipped to say much. My science is limited. My maths is worse. Now you know all three of my weaknesses.

If that sounds like sitting on the fence, maybe it is. It's my responsibility to grapple with the evidence, and I'm getting there only slowly. But there's some stuff I know with certainty.

I don't think there's anything wrong with asking questions about how this gender stuff and science stuff work. That's how we move ahead, if we come at it with the right mindset. I mean, I ask questions all the time, plenty of them stoopid - questions are my second strongest Olympic event, behind opinions.

We are at the beginning of an historical moment, rethinking what it means to welcome every person of every gender, redesigning our institutions to fit. We're opening our minds and challenging our ideas: it's fantastic. Stick with it, seek knowledge, and we'll work it out together. Everyone wins.

Like I said, I'm no expert - but I've made a promise with myself. I will try to be a safe, caring and kind person to anyone who asks me a question; sharing with generosity, as a still-learning trans kid's mum, what little I know. Because one thing I do know - from my son's experience transitioning - is that most people are pretty rad. Given the chance to learn more and do better, most of us will grab it, even if we're a little nervous or unsure. That's where the kindness comes in.

The problem for me is when we don't ask questions respectfully, with our starting point the inclusion and affirmation of trans people. When we ask without good faith, like a smarty-pants, because we believe we already know the answer. When we ask what is not a question at all, but only an insult or dehumanisation - the mean-spirited weapons of choice of the troll.

So many times in the last few weeks, I have scrolled through the comments - unable to stop, until the disgust or the hurt left me unable to continue. I believe in good faith.

It takes courage to be an Olympic athlete, and courage to be trans. Bring those things together, and you've got a force on your hands.

Laurel, you are a legend.

This Olympics hasn't worked out for you, and that must have hurt - almost as much, maybe, as everything you endured in the lead up. You were nothing but gracious in your exit, in the generosity you showed to others, in your gratitude that you got the chance, in your mana and your shining spirit. You gave every kid who dreams of competing, whether trans or cis, something to look up to, hold on to, even on the days that are the hardest.

There are plenty of questions I can't answer, but I know what it is to live and breathe kiwi values.

I'm awarding the gold.