When the Supreme Court handed down its decision in Skirmetti v. United States, I felt a mix of heartbreak and urgency. This ruling upheld Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors and signaled something chilling: the highest court in the land is willing to strip essential healthcare from our children. While the decision is specific to Tennessee and Kentucky, the message it sends reverberates across every state.
As someone who provides gender-affirming care to adults and works in reproductive justice every day, I know this truth: most trans adults knew who they were when they were children. As parents, providers, and advocates, our responsibility is to ensure they can grow up safe, affirmed, and free.
Centering Families in the Conversation
In a recent panel hosted by the Desert Institute for Family Planning, I had the privilege of listening to three extraordinary parents—Dr. Keisha Bell, Dr. Anna Cordova, and Lizette Trujillo—share what it means to raise transgender children in today’s political climate. Their journeys were personal and unique, yet resonated with the stories so many families I’ve worked with have told me.
Keisha’s daughter declared her identity as a girl almost as soon as she could speak. Anna’s son came out gradually, first identifying as gay, then later as transgender, teaching her to navigate discomfort and bias she hadn’t even realized she held. Lizette’s son knew he was a boy at two and a half. Still, fear of discrimination—and the realities of living in a mixed-immigration-status household—made affirmation a gradual process.
These stories matter because they strip away abstractions. Behind every bill and court ruling are real kids who want to play soccer, laugh with friends, and be loved for who they are. When we center those stories, it becomes impossible to ignore the harm of policies that deny them healthcare or dignity.
Understanding the “Machine” We’re Up Against
The panelists named something critical: what we’re facing is not random. It’s a coordinated machine—well-funded organizations like the Heritage Foundation and Alliance Defending Freedom—using targeted messaging to manufacture fear. They reduce trans people to body parts and use wedge issues like bathrooms and sports to stoke division.
This isn’t new. We’ve seen similar tactics used to fight desegregation, dismantle reproductive rights, and undercut public education. These campaigns thrive on disinformation and exploit communities—particularly communities of color—through tailored narratives designed to peel off just enough voters to swing elections.
For advocates and nonprofits, recognizing this pattern is essential. We can’t fight disinformation with silence. We need coordinated responses that are as strategic, well-funded, and persistent as the opposition.
Why Intersectionality Is Non-Negotiable
One of the most important insights from our conversation is how interconnected these struggles are. Anti-trans legislation, attacks on reproductive rights, and systemic racism are not separate fights—they stem from the same roots: white supremacy and patriarchy.
Reproductive justice provides a framework to see this clearly. It’s not just about the right to abortion—it’s about the right to have children, to not have children, and to raise those children in safe, inclusive communities. Protecting trans youth is part of that same promise.
If we silo these issues—if racial justice groups, LGBTQ+ advocates, and reproductive rights organizations don’t work together—we weaken our collective power. Our liberation is bound up in one another.
Challenging the “Parental Grief” Narrative
We also had a conversation about “parental grief.” This idea—mourning the loss of the child’s assigned identity—often creeps into discussions about supporting trans kids. Lizette challenged it head-on, naming it for what it is: internalized transphobia. Dr. Keisha acknowledged that while many parents do feel a sense of disorientation, that reaction is shaped by societal conditioning, not by anything wrong with their child.
Both perspectives point to the same solution: Parents need space to unlearn harmful narratives and move toward joy. Our kids don’t need to be mourned, they need to be celebrated.
The Role of Education and Everyday Advocacy
One thread that kept emerging in the discussion was the role of education, or, more accurately, what happens when education is dismantled. The erosion of public schools through voucher programs and attacks on diversity curricula has created fertile ground for misinformation. Without exposure to natural human differences, children—and adults—miss opportunities to practice compassion.
That’s where everyday advocacy comes in. Yes, we need to lobby legislators and fight in court. But we also need to normalize trans identities in classrooms, churches, workplaces, and dinner tables. We must correct misinformation when we hear it—even when it’s uncomfortable. Culture shifts happen one conversation at a time.
Where We Go From Here
The parents on this panel reminded me of something vital: advocacy isn’t just policy work; it’s a profound act of world building. It’s about showing up for our kids, even when the world doesn’t. It’s about transforming fear into action and grief into joy.
So what can we do?
- Engage legislators—locally and statewide. Ask them directly how they will protect trans youth. Hold them accountable.
- Create inclusive spaces wherever you are. From bathrooms at community events to pronouns in your email signature, small changes signal belonging.
- Build coalitions. Link trans advocacy to racial justice, reproductive rights, and immigrant rights. These fights are inseparable.
- Stay visible and vocal. Tell your stories. Challenge misinformation. Make allies out of those who don’t yet understand.
The fight for trans youth is the fight for our shared humanity. And it’s a fight we cannot afford to lose.
