Gender in fluid form

I have lost faith in British boyhood. In mixed schools, young males have failed to seize an opportunity that previous generations would have killed for. Imagine the scene, and to add piquancy, let us locate it in a headmistress’s study. Some hulking youth, a pillar of the rugger scrum, who already needs to shave almost every day, sidles in looking embarrassed. If the headmistress had any gumption — a big ‘if’ these days — she would already be on the alert. But these days that might avail her naught. The lad would have the spirit of the age on his side.

‘Please miss: I don’t know how to put this, but I have been so anxious. I’ve decided that I’m really a girl. Obviously, I can’t go on using the boys’ dressing rooms and showers, but I’m sure it’ll be OK if I change with the girls.’