I’ve been fighting for trans rights since high school. It’s only getting harder.

Hundreds of people gathered at Washington Square Park in New Orleans on March 31, 2023, for a march to mark Transgender Day of Visibility. Photo by Greg LaRose | Louisiana Illuminator

These past few months, we have seen an onslaught of legislation introduced in the Arizona Legislature and across the country that directly targets the transgender community. The fight for transgender people’s freedom and equality is not new, nor is the opposition we face to our very existence. But without any end to this deluge of bigotry in sight, I’m getting tired of having to constantly beg for my humanity in front of people who seem gleeful to deny it.

I was a junior in high school when I started engaging in political advocacy as a member of the transgender community. I spoke at my local school board, I attended court hearings, I talked to members of Congress. 

As I continued to find and use my voice, I was surrounded by friends and supported by a community of people fighting for a better world for young people like me. And while there was certainly a lot of resistance to the calls of change we were advocating for, we won a lot of important victories. I was optimistic.

Now, almost a decade later, I find myself fighting those same fights in my role at Planned Parenthood Advocates of Arizona — except everything is so much worse.

The federal government is becoming increasingly hostile to transgender people. Political and ideological agendas that attack our right to basic medical care, our ability to be authentically identified in government documents, and even our existence are eerily gaining traction — and, disturbingly, even acceptance. Here in Arizona, our state legislature has followed in Donald Trump’s footsteps by deciding to make bigotry and discrimination a priority. 

This legislative session, lawmakers are moving forward an agenda that attempts to erode the rights of the transgender community, threatening the fundamental freedoms of people like me. Their initiatives, if successful, would prevent us from being legally recognized as the gender we are, deny us from accessing medically-necessary and routine gender-affirming healthcare, limit our access to public facilities ranging from restrooms to domestic violence shelters, and create a hostile environment for transgender youth by infringing on their privacy and opening them up to misgendering and harassment. 

I’m alarmed, but not naive. None of these attacks are new. There is a long history  — within Arizona, within the United States and globally — of demonizing routine medical care, using bathrooms to divide people and attempting to deny people the basic right to express who they are. 

The tides of history ebb and flow, as they always have. But when they do, people get hurt. And I wonder what it will take for the tides to turn again.

These extremists are showing a complete disregard for the fact that Arizonans overwhelmingly voted last election to keep the government out of exam rooms and health care decisions. They haven’t listened to our attempts to engage in substantive conversation, and I don’t have any reason to believe they ever will. Let’s be clear: Their intention isn’t to pass good policy but to play partisan games.

But in the face of these attacks, the transgender community in Arizona has been fighting back. Organizations and individuals have been talking to lawmakers, writing letters, showing up to committee hearings, and doing everything we can to stand up against these bills. In some ways, the work is familiar. In other ways, it feels entirely new — and entirely more dangerous.

I have seen members of my community advocate against these restrictions and be yelled at by legislators in committee hearings. I have listened to people talk about how they want to speak out, but are afraid of the backlash. I have had difficult conversations with Arizonans grappling with whether it’s best to stay and fight, or whether it’s time to seek safety outside the state or even the country.

And as I watch all of this unfold, as I grapple with the current reality of the work I’ve been doing since I was a kid, I find myself dealing with a wave of intense emotions. Anger, that these lawmakers just can’t seem to see our humanity. Sadness, that trans kids are having to fight the same fight I did years ago, rather than enjoying the childhood they deserve. Dread, at what could be coming next.

But I also know this: Trans people have always existed. We will continue to exist, no matter what. We deserve the same rights and freedoms as any other Arizonan. 

There will always be people fighting for dignity, for autonomy and for freedom. We will bend, but we will not break. And I am proud to be part of that fight.