In Defense of Trans Youth in Alabama

By Barrett White

“When we are doing trans advocacy, we have to bear in mind that [it] is not just for us. Some of the policies we’re fighting to get passed, we may not be around to see implemented, much less enjoy them. But fight for them we must.” —Monica Roberts (1962–2020), trans advocate

As in states across the country, anti-trans bills are plaguing Alabama. Once again, conservatives have manufactured a problem so that they can craft a solution that causes undue suffering to an entire community already persecuted by conservative lawmakers in the state. Fiendishly, the community in question is children.

Early in 2021, Republican Governor Kay Ivey introduced two such anti-trans bills: HB 391 and SB 10. The former is being called the “trans athlete bill,” as it prevents trans kids from playing sports on the team that matches their gender identity. The latter of the two bills supports the banning of gender-affirming healthcare for anyone under 19 (a minor in Alabama). 

The fight over the trans athlete bill was rife with mudslinging. Alabama Democrats and social justice organizations fought and lobbied against the bill, while the Republican argument was typical and, unfortunately, effective: We’re protecting young girls. On April 20, 2021, HB 391 passed out the Alabama Senate with a 25-5 vote count, and on April 23, Governor Ivey signed the bill into law, effectively prohibiting transgender youth from participating in Alabama public school sports. “This one passed cloture vote,” Alabama State House Representative Neil Rafferty (D-54) explains. “[Lawmakers] tried to filibuster, but [it] was clotured and rammed through.” 

SB 10 arguments were similarly heated. “Proponents clung onto shock, talking about surgeries and mutilation,” says Rafferty. “They spoke about the ‘dangers’ of ‘experimental’ use of puberty blockers—they’re not experimental. They completely ran with this misinformation. The bill also criminalizes teachers, nurses, and school counselors, among others, if they suspect a child is gender nonconforming, essentially forcing them to out these children to their parents.”

Rafferty, who identifies as a cisgender gay man, says that he was privileged enough to come out to his parents when he was ready. “The danger [of SB 10] is that it could put these kids in danger of being put out on the street. Only the child knows their family situation, and it’s the individual’s job to disclose when they’re ready.”

The bill would also criminalize pharmacists for distributing medications related to youth gendercare services; yet, pharmacists generally don’t know why a particular medication is being prescribed (knowledge held by the child’s prescribing physician). For example, cisgender youth can receive hormone replacement therapy if their bodies don’t naturally produce adequate levels of hormones and their physicians deem it necessary. Pharmacists have no way of distinguishing between these uses. “SB-10 is a comprehensive bill that wrapped its tentacles around how the medical field and community operate,” Rafferty says. “There are 140 legislators in the doctor’s office with a kid saying they know what’s best.”

For over a decade, Rafferty has worked for a non-profit organization that serves transgender individuals, working alongside and for leaders in the transgender community. “We are the LGB-T-Q community,” he says. “We all have to work on this together. This is what binds us.”

“Unfortunately, we knew this was coming—once there was a step toward equality with equal marriage rights in 2015, we knew it would be the trans community who they would go after next,” Rafferty adds. “Part of the success of the ‘LGB’ community is that there are a bunch of us. It’s slowly becoming normalized. There are fewer trans people, so there’s less exposure. We have to stand in solidarity.”

While “bathroom bills” are inherently immoral, the added disgust from Rafferty and other activists is that these bills specifically target children. “Bathroom bills, in general, speak about adults,” Rafferty says. “They’re awful, but these are children. They’re in the crosshairs of this bill for some reason. Some of these kids might already have a hard time in school, they may have family problems, or may have anxiety or depression due to society—then we add the political arena. When I talked to a proponent of this bill, he admitted to not knowing any transgender youth. He admitted to not knowing what ‘nonbinary’ even means.”

“I asked him, how do you know someone is trans? Nonbinary?” Rafferty continues. “He said, ‘You just know.’ Ultimately, this is also enforcing gender conformity. It requires an outing of the kids, even if maybe they aren’t trans but are just [exploring their] gender expression.” Rafferty adds that he’s tired of kids feeling scared and like Alabama can’t be their home.

In a Republican-led state like Alabama, the Democratic Caucus is a superminority. Legislators like Rafferty were forced to fight hard, but they weren’t fighting alone—the Black Caucus, the ACLU, HRC, and many others—like trade groups of pharmacists and psychiatrists concerned they couldn’t practice ethically—also participated, as did educators, physicians, and youth themselves. “[In my opinion], the strongest testimony was from a cop who is a father to a trans daughter,” Rafferty says. “He thought he had four sons, but one grew up to be his daughter. He didn’t know what to do at first but was thankful to the doctors who walked him through it. His testimony ran counter to people who said that doctors were ‘peddling medications.’ He testified that, no, they helped us navigate [her care] responsibly, otherwise it would have been malpractice. They provided mental and emotional support. The father said, ‘Please, they saved my daughter’s life. Don’t make me put my heroes in handcuffs.’”

On May 17, 2021, SB 10 failed due to the legislative session being officially declared “sine die,” or finished. Though SB 10 was defeated, a similar bill could reappear next session, Rafferty says, “but hopefully without the same gusto and steam it had the first two years. The first year COVID killed it, this year, we did.”

“This is Alabama, and it’s our home, too,” Rafferty says. “As a former Marine, I’ve got your back. Activists are the ones on the ground gaining momentum and doing the work to provide spaces for equity, and they’re all over the state. I believe we all have an important role to play here because this is [trans kids’] home. We don’t want you to leave.”

“To anyone who might be thinking about Alabamans or feeling sorry for us, I ask you to support the work being done here,” Rafferty finishes. “Support LGBTQ candidates, support organizations providing space for these kids, support activists. Your criticism from afar doesn’t do any good. What we need is your support. We could have chosen to leave, but we didn’t want to. We wanted to make a difference here. We could have another Trump next election. You say, ‘That’s just Alabama, that’s just Texas.’ No. In reality, what happens here plays into national scope. Don’t write us off, invest in us.”