Utah became the first state to prohibit flying LGBTQ+ pride flags at schools and all government buildings after the Republican governor announced he was allowing a ban on unsanctioned flag displays to become law without his signature.
Gov. Spencer Cox, who made the announcement late Thursday night, said he continues to have serious concerns with the policy but chose not to reject it because his veto would likely be overridden by the Republican-controlled Legislature.
Starting May 7, state or local government buildings will be fined $500 a day for flying any flag other than the United States flag, the Utah state flag, military flags or a short list of others approved by lawmakers. Political flags supporting a certain candidate or party, such as President Donald Trump’s signature “Make America Great Again” flags, are not allowed.
The new law could stoke conflict between the state and its largest city. City buildings in liberal Salt Lake City typically honor Pride Month each June by displaying flags that celebrate its large LGBTQ+ population. Local leaders have illuminated the Salt Lake City and County Building in rainbow lights to protest the flag ban each night since the Legislature sent it to Cox’s desk.
Andrew Wittenberg, a spokesperson for Salt Lake City Mayor Erin Mendenhall’s office, said their attorneys are evaluating the law and the capital city does not yet have information on what it will do once the law takes effect.
The bill’s Republican sponsors, Rep. Trevor Lee and Sen. Dan McCay, said it’s meant to encourage “political neutrality” from teachers and other government employees. Opponents argued it aims to erase LGBTQ+ expression and take authority away from cities and towns that don’t align politically with the Republican Legislature.
In a letter to legislative leaders explaining his decision, Cox said he agreed with the “underlying intent” of the bill to make classrooms politically neutral but thought it went too far in regulating local governments. He also noted that by focusing narrowly on flags, the law does not prevent other political displays such as posters or lighting.
“To our LGBTQ community, I know that recent legislation has been difficult,” Cox said. “Politics can be a bit of a blood sport at times and I know we’ve had our disagreements. I want you to know that I love and appreciate you and I am grateful that you are part of our state. I know these words may ring hollow to many of you, but please know that I mean them sincerely.”
Cox’s decision came hours after the Sundance Film Festival announced it was leaving its home of four decades in Park City, Utah, for Boulder, Colorado. The flag bill created eleventh-hour tensions as some residents worried it would push the nation’s premier independent film festival out of state. Festival leaders said state politics ultimately did not influence their move from conservative Utah to liberal Colorado. They did, however, make “ethos and equity values” one of their criteria in a nationwide search for a new home and referred to Boulder in their announcement as a “welcoming environment.”
Utah’s flag law goes further than one signed last week in Idaho that only applies to schools. But Idaho Republicans are also advancing a separate bill to ban government buildings from displaying certain flags.
Florida lawmakers have advanced a proposal to ban pride flags and others that represent political viewpoints in schools and public buildings after similar measures failed in the past two legislative sessions. Some federal agencies, including the Department of Veterans Affairs, also have limited which flags can fly at their facilities.
Other flags permitted under the Utah law include Olympic and Paralympic flags, official college or university flags, tribal flags and historic versions of other approved flags that might be used for educational purposes.
Transgender people in Montana can no longer use bathrooms in public buildings that do not align with their sex assigned at birth after Republican Gov. Greg Gianforte signed new restrictions into law Thursday.
The law requires public buildings including the state Capitol, schools, jails, prisons, libraries and state-funded domestic violence shelters to provide separate spaces for men and women.
It defines the sexes in state law based on a person’s chromosomes and reproductive biology, even as a district court ruling earlier this year declared the definitions unconstitutional.
The new law also declares that there are only two sexes, male and female, going against a judge’s 2024 ruling that struck down that same definition.
Under the law, transgender people cannot use public restrooms, changing rooms and sleeping areas that align with their gender identity. The law does not explain how people in charge of public facilities should verify someone’s sex.
Rep. Kerri Seekins-Crowe, the Republican sponsor, said it was not meant to be exclusionary but to preserve safe spaces for women.
A transgender man who has undergone a medical transition to develop more masculine features such as facial hair, muscle definition and a deeper voice is now required by law to use the women’s restroom.
Republican lawmakers swiftly approved the measure despite vocal opposition from Democrats who worried it would complicate daily life for two fellow lawmakers who are transgender and nonbinary. Among them was Rep. Zooey Zephyr, the Missoula Democrat who was silenced and sanctioned by her Republican colleagues in 2023 for comments she made on the House floor.
Zephyr warned it would embolden some to police another person’s gender in public, which she said could create hostile situations for everyone.
The law allows people to sue a facility for not preventing transgender people from using a certain restroom or changing room. They can recover nominal damages, generally $1, and the entity could be required to pay the plaintiff’s legal fees.
On the campaign trail, Donald Trump used contentiousness around transgender people’s access to sports and bathrooms to fire up conservative voters and sway undecideds. And in his first months back in office, Trump has pushed the issue further, erasing mention of transgender people on government websites and passports and trying to remove them from the military.
It’s a contradiction of numbers that reveals a deep cultural divide: Transgender people make up less than 1% of the U.S. population, but they have become a major piece on the political chess board — particularly Trump’s.
For transgender people and their allies — along with several judges who have ruled against Trump in response to legal challenges — it’s a matter of civil rights for a small group. But many Americans believe those rights had grown too expansive.
The president’s spotlight is giving Monday’s Transgender Day of Visibility a different tenor this year.
“What he wants is to scare us into being invisible again,” said Rachel Crandall Crocker, the executive director of Transgender Michigan who organized the first Day of Visibility 16 years ago. “We have to show him we won’t go back.”
So why has this small population found itself with such an outsized role in American politics?
The focus on trans people is part of a long-running campaign
Trump’s actions reflect a constellation of beliefs that transgender people are dangerous, are men trying to get access to women’s spaces or are pushed into gender changes that they will later regret.
The American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Medical Association and other major medical groups have said that gender-affirming treatments can be medically necessary and are supported by evidence.
Zein Murib, an associate professor of political science and women’s, gender and sexuality studies at Fordham University, said there has been a decades-old effort “to reinstate Christian nationalist principles as the law of the land” that increased its focus on transgender people after a 2015 U.S. Supreme Court ruling recognizing same-sex marriage nationwide. It took a few years, but some of the positions gained traction.
One factor: Proponents of the restrictions lean into broader questions of fairness and safety, which draw more public attention.
Sports bans and bathroom laws are linked to protecting spaces for women and girls, even as studies have found transgender women are far more likely to be victims of violence. Efforts to bar schools from encouraging gender transition are connected to protecting parental rights. And bans on gender-affirming care rely partly on the idea that people might later regret it, though studies have found that to be rare.
Since 2020, about half the states passed laws barring transgender people from sports competitions aligning with their gender and have banned or restricted gender-affirming medical care for minors. At least 14 have adopted laws restricting which bathrooms transgender people can use in certain buildings.
In February, Iowa became the first state to remove protections for transgender people from civil rights law.
It’s not just political gamesmanship. “I think that whether or not that’s a politically viable strategy is second to the immediate impact that that is going to have on trans people,” Fordham’s Murib said.
Many voters think trans rights have gone too far
More than half of voters in the 2024 election — 55% — said support for transgender rights in the United States has gone too far, according to AP VoteCast. About 2 in 10 said the level of support has been about right, and a similar share said support hasn’t gone far enough.
Nevertheless, AP VoteCast also found voters were split on laws banning gender-affirming medical treatment, such as puberty blockers or hormone therapy, for minors. Just over half were opposed to these laws, while just under half were in favor.
Trump voters were overwhelmingly likely to say support for transgender rights has gone too far, while Kamala Harris’ voters were more divided. About 4 in 10 Harris voters said support for transgender rights has not gone far enough, while 36% said it’s been about right and about one-quarter said it’s gone too far.
A survey this year from the Pew Research Center found Americans, including Democrats, have become more slightly more supportive of requiring transgender athletes to compete on teams that match their sex at birth and more supportive on bans on gender-affirming medical care for transgender minors since 2022. Most Democrats still oppose those kinds of measures, though.
Leor Sapir, a fellow at Manhattan Institute, a right-leaning think tank, says Trump’s and Republicans’ positions have given them a political edge.
“They are putting their opponents, their Democratic opponents, in a very unfavorable position by having to decide between catering to their progressive, activist base or their median voter,” he said.
Not everyone agrees.
“People across the political spectrum agree that in fact, the major crises and major problems facing the United States right now is not the existence and civic participation of trans people,” said Olivia Hunt, director of federal policy for Advocates for Trans Equality.
And in the same election that saw Trump return to the presidency, Delaware voters elected Sarah McBride, the first transgender member of Congress.
The full political fallout remains to be seen
Paisley Currah, a political science professor at the City University of New York, said conservatives go after transgender people in part because they make up such a small portion of the population.
“Because it’s so small, it’s relatively unknown,” said Currah, who is transgender. “And then Trump has kind of used trans to signify what’s wrong with the left. You know: ‘It’s just too crazy. It’s too woke.’”
But Democratic politicians also know the population is relatively small, said Seth Masket, director of the Center on American Politics at the University of Denver, who is writing a book about the GOP.
“A lot of Democrats are not particularly fired up to defend this group,” Masket said, citing polling.
For Republicans, the overall support of transgender rights is evidence they are out of step with the times.
“The Democrat Party continues to find themselves on the wrong side of overwhelmingly popular issues, and it proves just how out of touch they are with Americans,” National Republican Congressional Committee spokesperson Mike Marinella said.
Some of that message may be getting through. In early March, California Gov. Gavin Newsom, a potential 2028 Democratic presidential candidate, launched his new podcast by speaking out against allowing transgender women and girls competing in women’s and girls sports.
And several other Democratic officials have said the party spends too much effort supporting transgender rights. Others, including U.S. Sen. Catherine Cortez Masto, have said they oppose transgender athletes in girls and women’s sports.
Jay Jones, the student government president at Howard University and a transgender woman, said her peers are largely accepting of transgender people.
“The Trump administration is trying to weaponize people of the trans experience … to help give an archenemy or a scapegoat,” she said. But “I don’t think that is going to be as successful as the strategy as he thinks that it will be.”
Ana Esquivel no longer feels like her heart stops every time she sees a police officer.
“We’ve been told that they won’t harass or mistreat us here, but back home, if a male name is spotted on your ID, you could spend the night detained,” said the 50-year-old transgender woman. She fled Cuba fearing for her safety and arrived in Mexico earlier this year.
Esquivel settled in the southern city of Tapachula, hoping to dodge the Trump’s administration crackdown on migration and reach the United States. But unlike many who turned back after their Border Patrol appointments got canceled, returning home is not an option for LGBTQ migrants.
Transgender women Rachel Perez, left, and Ana Esquivel, who applied for asylum in Mexico, at Casa Frida.Moises Castillo / AP
“The LGBT population doesn’t necessarily leave their countries for the same reasons as others,” said Mariana de la Cruz, operations director at Casa Frida, a shelter that supports LGBTQ migrants and lost 60% of its funds after President Donald Trump ordered the suspension of foreign assistance programs in January.
“They leave due to discrimination and violence based on their gender identity,” de la Cruz said. “Beyond economic reasons or the American Dream, they leave because they need to survive.”
The flux of migrants at the Southern Mexican border with Guatemala dipped after Trump announced plans to restrict refugees and asylum seekers, contending he wants to stop illegal entry and border crime. The Mexican Commission for Refugee Aid in Tapachula has not updated its public data since December 2024, but the transformation is clear.
Hundreds of migrants no longer flood a public square, waiting for a response to their refugee applications. And though lines still form around the commission’s headquarters, locals say the crowds are smaller.
At a nearby Catholic shelter, administrator Herber Bermúdez said they have hosted up to 1,700 migrants at a time, but it’s closer to 300 with the shutdown of CBP One, the U.S. border app that facilitated legal entry into the country.
“The change was substantial,” Bermúdez said. “By Jan. 20, we had around 1,200 people, but as the app stopped working, people started heading back to their countries.”
In contrast, help requests addressed to Casa Frida have not dropped.
“All of the people we support were victims of violence,” said Sebastián Rodríguez, who works at the shelter. “They can’t go back.”
In Tapachula since 2022, Casa Frida staff review on average 80 applications per month, assessing the most at-risk. According to Rodríguez, nonbinary and transgender migrants are frequently vulnerable to attacks.
Itzel Aguilar teaches English to migrants at Casa Frida in Tapachula.Moises Castillo / AP
The shelter doesn’t have enough resources to help everyone, but they bring on about 70 new people monthly and can support up to 200 LGBTQ people at any given time.
Several migrants recently told The Associated Press they were kidnapped by cartel members as they set foot in Mexico and had to give up their possessions to be released.
LGBTQ people face more violence, Rodríguez said. Transgender women often dress as men to avoid mockery and being spotted by criminals. If they are spared and reach a shelter, staff assign them to male dorms. If they leave and try to rent a room elsewhere, landlords seem unhospitable or demand unthinkable fees.
“That’s why programs like ours are needed,” Rodríguez said.
According to the shelter, about 40% of its population was affected by the end of CBP One app and the mass cancellation of appointments.
“Some people feel discouraged and hopeless,” Rodríguez said. “But many have applied for asylum in Mexico.”
Among its services, Casa Frida can provide a roof and meals for up to 12 people for three months. The organization’s other programs can help several more migrants by providing legal guidance on remaining in Mexico, advice on finding temporary jobs with inclusive environments, psychological counseling and tips for renting apartments under fair conditions.
“Most people just think of us as a shelter, but providing refuge is only the core of what we do,” Rodríguez said. “Our goal is to reintegrate violence victims into society.”
The shelter operates in three locations: Mexico City, where it was founded in 2020 and mostly supports locals; Tapachula, which mainly receives migrants from Cuba, Honduras, Venezuela, El Salvador, Perú and Haiti; and Monterrey, where those at grave risk are transferred to be safe at an undisclosed address.
Cuban Rasiel Elias Fernandez cooks at Casa Frida in Mexico City last year.Alfredo Estrella / AFP via Getty Images
Manuel Jiménez, 21, was welcomed at the Mexico City station in February. He arrived from a state near the capital when harassment by family members became unbearable.
Jiménez initially hoped to reach the U.S. and he traveled north in November 2024. All went well until border patrol officers detained him in Arizona and he was deported. But it was dangerous for him to stay in his hometown.
“Someone told me about this shelter because I wanted to find a place where I could feel at peace,” said Jiménez, who identifies as bisexual. “Back home, there were people who wanted to hurt me, verbally and physically.”
Now living at Casa Frida, he started working at a nearby restaurant and hopes to save money that will enable him to find a home of his own.
Back in Tapachula, Esquivel applied for Mexican refugee status. Around 85% of Casa Frida’s migrants get a positive response, so she’s optimistic. Maybe one day, she hopes, she could go back to school, land a job and relocate.
“I want to stay here and become part of this country,” Esquivel said. “I want to do it the right way and I’m grateful to Casa Frida for helping me get there.”
She learned about the shelter from another trans woman who also fled Cuba after feeling threatened by police.
“I was nearly arrested,” said Rachel Pérez, 51. “In Cuba, we are discriminated and persecuted. We leave in search for a better life.”
According to Esquivel, she was accused of prostitution — which is not illegal under Cuban law — for repeatedly walking alone at night. Police warned her a few times, but she kept going out until she was detained and transferred to a male prison.
“I was raped there,” said Esquivel, who remained imprisoned for a year. “I was only 21 and the inmates abused me. Within time, I learned how to defend myself, but those were very difficult times I won’t forget.”
Staff at Casa Frida constantly updates their protocols to help migrants like Esquivel. But keeping operations running has proved challenging due to the U.S. aid cuts. According to De la Cruz, worrisome notifications popped by Jan. 24, and a few weeks later, 60% of their budget was gone.
“We’ve been looking everywhere to find new sustainability alternatives,” she said. “We are part of a network focused on LGBT mobility in Latin America and the Caribbean — 13 organizations in 10 countries — and at least 50% of them took a hit.”
Funding campaigns and ongoing meetings with European and local leaders might bring a solution, but concerns haven’t ceased and the team could significantly diminish its operations.
“Nothing is written in stone and we don’t know what could happen next,” De la Cruz said.
A federal judge on Friday temporarily blocked key parts of an Iowa law that bans some books from school libraries and forbids teachers from raising LGBTQ+ issues.
Judge Stephen Locher’s preliminary injunction halts enforcement of the law, which was set to take effect Jan. 1 but already had resulted in the removal of hundreds of books from Iowa schools.
The law, which the Republican-led Legislature and GOP Gov. Kim Reynolds approved early in 2023, bans books depicting sex acts from school libraries and classrooms and forbids teachers from raising gender identity and sexual orientation issues with students through the sixth grade. Locher blocked enforcement of those two provisions.
The judge said the ban on books is “incredibly broad” and has resulted in the removal of history volumes, classics, award-winning novels and “even books designed to help students avoid being victimized by sexual assault.” He said that part of the law is unlikely to satisfy the constitution’s requirements for free speech.
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In barring the provision barring any discussion of “gender identity” and “sexual orientation” in elementary school, Locher said the way it was written it was “wildly overbroad.”
Reynolds said in a statement that she was “extremely disappointed” by the ruling.
“Instruction on gender identity and sexual orientation has no place in kindergarten through sixth grade classrooms,” Reynolds said. “And there should be no question that books containing sexually explicit content — as clearly defined in Iowa law — do not belong in a school library for children. The fact that we’re even arguing these issues is ridiculous.”
Educators lauded the decision, however.
“When education professionals return to work next week, they can do what they do best: take great care of all their students without fear of reprisal,” Mike Beranek, president of the Iowa State Education Association, said in a statement.
The judge let stand a requirement that school administrators notify parents if their child asks to change their pronouns or name, saying the plaintiffs did not have standing.
Iowa’s measure is part of a wave of similar legislation across the country. Typically backed by Republican lawmakers, the laws seek to prohibit discussionof gender and sexual orientation issues, ban treatments such as puberty blockers for transgender children, and restrict the use of restrooms in schools. Many have prompted court challenges.
Opponents of the Iowa law filed two lawsuits. One is on behalf of the organization Iowa Safe Schools and seven students, represented by the American Civil Liberties Union of Iowa and Lambda Legal. The other is by the Iowa State Education Association, publisher Penguin Random House and four authors.
The first lawsuit argues the measure is unconstitutional because it violates students’ and teachers’ free speech and equal protection rights. The second, which focused more narrowly on the book bans, argues the law violates the First and 14th amendments.
Lawyers for both lawsuits said the law is broad and confusing.
At a Dec. 22 hearing, Daniel Johnston of the Iowa attorney general’s office argued that school officials were applying the book ban too broadly. When deciding whether to remove books, educators shouldn’t focus on the idea of a sex act but instead look for text or images that meet Iowa’s definition of a sex act, Johnston said.
As children across the U.S. head back to classes and practices for fall sports, four more states are expecting their K-12 schools to keep transgender girls off their girls teams.
Kansas, North Dakota and Wyoming had new laws in place restricting transgender athletes before classes resumed, and a Missouri law takes effect at the end of this month, bringing the number of states with restrictions to 23.
North Carolina could enact a ban later this month, and Ohio could follow in the fall. A few laws, including ones in Arizona and West Virginia, are on hold because of federal lawsuits.
This year’s new restrictions are part of a larger wave of legislation across the U.S. against transgender rights. Republican legislators in some states have banned gender-affirming care for minors, restricted transgender people’s use of school and public restrooms, limited what public schools can teach about gender and sexuality and barred schools from requiring the use of a transgender student’s preferred pronouns.
The sports laws have been imposed since 2020, and most are aimed at transgender girls. A majority cover less formal intramural contests organized within a single school’s student body as well as contests among different schools, and some restrict transgender boys as well. Almost all say other students and their parents can sue schools that don’t enforce the restrictions.
Lawmakers expect a child’s earliest birth certificate to determine which sports teams they can join. Principals and coaches are expected to be the enforcers.
“Those are uncomfortable conversations,” said Jeanne Woodbury, interim executive director of the LGBGT+ rights group Equality Arizona. “Everyone is going through that process.”
She added: “For trans kids, it’s never been a walk in the park, but now they have this law to contend with on top of everything else.”
In Oklahoma, where a law has been in place since 2022, athletes or their parents must file an annual affidavit “acknowledging the biological sex of the student at birth.”
Kansas and other states expect school officials to review a child’s earliest birth certificate if questions arise about an athlete’s eligibility.
Bill Faflick, executive director of the Kansas State High School Activities Association, said his state’s law has been greeted by a “matter of fact” acceptance in rules seminars for administrators and coaches.
“It has not been met with any resistance and has not been met with any outpouring of support or opposition, one way or the other,” Faflick said.
Even before the laws against transgender girls on girls teams passed, some states largely blocked the practice by handling questions or concerns on a case-by-case level at the school or state athletic association level.
Supporters of the restrictions argue that they’re protecting fair competition and scholarship opportunities for young women that took decades to win. They say that well before puberty, boys have physical advantages over girls in speed, strength and lung capacity.
“It’s a puzzlement to me that more people aren’t feeling sympathy for the girls whose sports careers are ruined,” said Tom Horne, the elected Republican state school superintendent in Arizona, who is defending his state’s law in federal court.
Doctors, parents, and LGBTQ+ rights advocates counter that boys’ physical advantages come with a surge in testosterone during puberty — changes gender-affirming care blocks.
Critics also argue that transgender athletes are so few that schools and associations governing school sports can handle their individual cases without a state law.
For example, in Kansas, the State High School Activities Association recorded 11 transgender athletes during the 2022-23 school year, and three were trans girls. Before Florida’s law took effect in 2021, its High School Athletic Association had cleared 13 transgender students to play in the previous eight years.
Becky Pepper-Jackson appeared to be the only transgender girl seeking to play girls’ sports in West Virginia in 2021 when the then-11-year-old and her mother, Heather Jackson, sued the state over its law.
Because of their lawsuit, the West Virginia law is on hold, and Becky, now a 13-year-old entering eighth grade, threw the discus and the shot put in seven track meets this spring.
The state is trying to persuade a federal appeals court to let it enforce its law, and in a filing last month, it cited the longer distances Becky threw this year as a reason. The state said any time another girl finished behind Becky in either event — more than 180 times — the other athlete had been unfairly “displaced.”
Jackson said the state knows her daughter only “on paper,” and Becky improved by training relentlessly at home with her own equipment.
“As a parent, all we want for our children is for them to be successful and happy, period,” Jackson told The Associated Press. “That should be an opportunity for everybody, every time, everywhere in this country.”
Educators and LGBTQ+ rights advocates argue that transgender kids aren’t the only athletes likely to feel the effects of the laws. Some worry that parents will challenge the right to play of cisgendered girls who are taller or more muscular than their peers — or just a whole lot better.
One of athletes who sued Idaho over its 2020 law was a 17-year-old cisgendered girl, listed only as Jane Doe. The lawsuit said she had an “athletic build” and wanted to avoid ”invasive or uncomfortable” gender tests.
“It’s going to create this feeling in some people that, ‘I can go question someone’s gender, and it’s my right to do that,’” said G.A. Buie, executive director of United School Administrators of Kansas, an association representing public school leaders.
Parents, doctors and LGBTQ+ rights advocates say restrictions on transgender athletes are less about sports and more about trying to make transgender kids disappear from society.
“What lawmakers fail to understand is that transgender people, nonbinary people, intersex people, have always been here,” said Anne Lieberman, policy and programs director for Athlete Ally, a group that advocates for transgender athletes. “Unless it is known that a student is trans, it is very hard to keep somebody from playing sports.”
Female transgender athletes who transitioned after male puberty will no longer be able to compete in women’s races, world cycling governing body the UCI said Friday.
The decision came after American rider Austin Killips became the first openly transgender woman to win an official cycling event earlier this year.
“From now on, female transgender athletes who have transitioned after (male) puberty will be prohibited from participating in women’s events on the UCI International Calendar — in all categories — in the various disciplines,” the international federation said in a statement.
The UCI said the ban, starting on Monday, was necessary to “ensure equal opportunities.”
Killips rode to victory in the fifth stage of the Tour of the Gila, one of the marquee U.S. stage races. Her victory provoked a negative reaction by some cycling fans and former racers despite the 27-year-old athlete having adhered to a policy put in place by the UCI last year requiring transgender athletes to have serum testosterone levels of 2.5 nanomoles per liter or less for at least 24 months before competing in women’s events.
The UCI said Friday it “has taken note of the state of scientific knowledge, which does not confirm that at least two years of gender-affirming hormone therapy with a target plasma testosterone concentration of 2.5 nmol/L is sufficient to completely eliminate the benefits of testosterone during puberty in men.”
It also noted the difficulty to “draw precise conclusions about the effects” of gender-confirming hormone therapy.
“Given the current state of scientific knowledge, it is also impossible to rule out the possibility that biomechanical factors such as the shape and arrangement of the bones in their limbs may constitute a lasting advantage for female transgender athletes,” the UCI added.
Despite the ban, UCI president David Lappartient said “the UCI would like to reaffirm that cycling — as a competitive sport, leisure activity or means of transport — is open to everyone, including transgender people, whom we encourage like everyone else to take part in our sport.
It also noted the difficulty to “draw precise conclusions about the effects” of gender-confirming hormone therapy.
“Given the current state of scientific knowledge, it is also impossible to rule out the possibility that biomechanical factors such as the shape and arrangement of the bones in their limbs may constitute a lasting advantage for female transgender athletes,” the UCI added.
Despite the ban, UCI president David Lappartient said “the UCI would like to reaffirm that cycling — as a competitive sport, leisure activity or means of transport — is open to everyone, including transgender people, whom we encourage like everyone else to take part in our sport.
Champion runner Caster Semenya won a potentially landmark legal victory on Tuesday when the European Court of Human Rights decided she was discriminated against by sports rules that force her to medically reduce her natural hormone levels to compete in major competitions.
The ruling by the Strasbourg, France-based court questioned the “validity” of the contentious international athletics regulations in that they infringed Semenya’s human rights.
But the two-time Olympic champion’s first legal success after two failed appeals in sports’ highest court and the Swiss supreme court came with a major caveat. Amid her bid to be allowed to run again without restriction and go for another gold at next year’s Olympics in Paris, Tuesday’s judgment, while major, did not immediately result in the rules being dropped.
That might still take years.
The South African athlete’s challenge against the testosterone rules began in 2018.
It has gone from the Switzerland-based Court of Arbitration for Sport to the Swiss supreme court and now the European rights court. The 4-3 ruling in Semenya’s favor by a panel of human rights judges merely opened the way for the Swiss supreme court to reconsider its decision.
That might result in the case going back to CAS in Lausanne. And only then might the highly controversial rules enforced by World Athletics be possibly removed.
The 32-year-old Semenya, who has been barred by the rules from running in her favorite 800-meter race since 2019 and has lost four years of her career at her peak, has only 13 months until Paris.
In a statement soon after the European rights court’s decision was published, World Athletics showed no sign of budging and said its rules would “remain in place.”
“We remain of the view that the … regulations are a necessary, reasonable and proportionate means of protecting fair competition in the female category as the Court of Arbitration for Sport and Swiss Federal Tribunal both found,” World Athletics said.
World Athletics also said it would be “encouraging” the government of Switzerland to appeal the ruling. Switzerland was the respondent in the case because Semenya was challenging her last legal loss in the Swiss supreme court. Switzerland’s government has three months to appeal.
The Swiss government was also ordered to pay Semenya 60,000 euros ($66,000) for costs and expenses.
There was no immediate reaction from Semenya or her lawyers in South Africa.
While Semenya has been at the center of the highly emotive issue of sex eligibility in sports and is the issue’s figurehead in challenging the rules, she is not the only athlete affected. At least three other Olympic medalists have also been impacted by the rules that set limits on the level of natural testosterone female athletes may have if they want to compete. World Athletics says there are “a number” of other elite athletes who fall under the regulations.
There are no testosterone limits in place for male athletes.
Semenya’s case is not the same as the debate over transgender women who have transitioned from male to female being allowed to compete in sports, although the two issues do have crossover.
Semenya was identified as female at birth, raised as a girl and has been legally identified as female her whole life. She has one of a number of conditions known as differences in sex development, or DSDs, which cause naturally high testosterone that is in the typical male range.
Semenya says her high natural testosterone should be considered a genetic gift in the same way as a basketballer’s height or a swimmer’s long arms.
While track authorities can’t challenge Semenya’s legal gender, they say her condition includes her having the typical male XY chromosome pattern and physical traits that make her “biologically male,” an assertion that has enraged Semenya. World Athletics says Semenya’s testosterone levels give her an athletic advantage that is comparable to a man competing in women’s events and there needs to be rules to address that.
To do that, track has enforced rules since 2019 that require athletes like Semenya to artificially reduce their testosterone to below a specific mark, which is measured through the amount of testosterone recorded in their blood. They can do that by taking daily contraceptive pills, having hormone-blocking injections, or undergoing surgery under the rules. If athletes choose one of the first two options, they would effectively need to do it for their entire careers to remain eligible to compete regularly.
Semenya has railed against the regulations, and refused to follow them since 2019, saying they discriminated against her because of her condition.
On Tuesday, the European Court of Human Rights agreed. It also found for Semenya on another point of her appeal, that she wasn’t given “effective remedy” against that discrimination when the Court of Arbitration for Sports and the Swiss supreme court both denied her appeals.
There were “serious questions as to the validity” of the testosterone rules, the court said, including with any side effects of the hormone treatment athletes would have to undergo, the difficulties in them remaining within the rules by trying to control their natural hormone levels, and the “lack of evidence” that their high natural testosterone actually gave them an advantage anyway.
That last point struck at the heart of the regulations, which World Athletics has always said is about dealing with the unfair sports advantage Semenya has over other women.
The European rights court also found Semenya’s second legal appeal against the rules at the Swiss supreme court should have led to “a thorough institutional and procedural review” of the rules, but that did not happen.
The rules have been made stricter since Semenya launched her case at the European rights court, with World Athletics announcing in March that athletes would have to reduce their testosterone level to an even lower mark. The updated regulations also apply to every event and not just Semenya’s favored range between 400 meters and one mile, which they did previously.
A federal judge has blocked a Wisconsin school district from requiring transgender students to use bathrooms and locker rooms that match the sex they were assigned at birth while a lawsuit plays out against the school.
U.S. District Judge Lynn Adelman said Thursday that the Mukwonago Area School District must allow a transgender student to use facilities that align with their gender identity, temporarily blocking a policy approved last month by the school board, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel reported.
The order comes in a lawsuit brought anonymously by an 11-year-old transgender student and her mother. The judge ruled that the school’s policy was causing emotional and mental harm to the student, who was described as a boy at birth but has identified as a girl since she was three years old.
Mukwonago Area School District offices in Mukwonago, Wisc.Google maps
According to court documents, school officials have monitored which bathrooms the student uses and forced her to go to boys’ bathrooms or gender-neutral bathrooms at Mukwonago High School, where she is enrolled in summer school classes.
Adelman ruled that the student’s case was likely to succeed at trial, citing a similar case in Kenosha in 2017, in which a judge held that a school could not block a transgender student from using bathrooms that matched their gender identity.
The Village of Mukwonago is located in conservative Waukesha County, a Milwaukee suburb that has been key to Republican victories in the state. Across the country, Republican lawmakers have passed measures in recent years to restrict which bathrooms transgender students can use in public schools and universities.
On an early morning in June, Flower Nichols and her mother set off on an expedition to Chicago from their home in Indianapolis.
The family was determined to make it feel like an adventure in the city, though that wasn’t the primary purpose of the trip.
The following afternoon, Flower and Jennilyn Nichols would see a doctor at the University of Chicago to learn whether they could keep Flower, 11, on puberty blockers. They began to search for medical providers outside of Indiana after April 5, when Republican Gov. Eric Holcomb signed a law banning transgender minors from accessing puberty blockers and other hormone therapies, even after the approval of parents and the advice of doctors.
At least 20 states have enacted laws restricting or banning gender-affirming care for trans minors, though several are embroiled in legal challenges. For more than a decade prior, such treatments were available to children and teens across the U.S. and have been endorsed by major medical associations.
Indiana Gov. Eric Holcomb in Indianapolis on Jan. 10.Darron Cummings / AP file
Opponents of gender-affirming care say there’s no solid proof of purported benefits, cite widely discredited research and say children shouldn’t make life-altering decisions they might regret. Advocates and families impacted by the recent laws say such care is vital for trans kids.
On June 16, a federal judge blocked parts of Indiana’s law from going into effect on July 1. But many patients still scrambled to continue receiving treatment.
Jennilyn Nichols wanted their trip to Chicago to be defined by happy memories rather than a response to a law she called intrusive. They would explore the Museum of Science and Industry and, on the way home, stop at a beloved candy store.
Preserving a sense of normalcy and acceptance, she decided — well, that’s just what families do.
Navigating new laws
Families in Indiana, Mississippi and other states are navigating new laws that imply or sometimes directly accuse them of child abuse for supporting their kids in getting health care. Some trans children and teens say the recent bans on gender-affirming care in Republican-led states send the message that they are unwelcome and cannot be themselves in their home states.
For parents, guiding their children through the usual difficulties of growing up can be challenging enough. But now they are dealing with the added pressure of finding out-of-state medical care they say allows their children to thrive.
In the Nichols family alone, support took many forms as they traveled to Chicago: a grandmother who pitched in to babysit Flower’s 7-year-old brother, Parker, while their father Kris worked; a community of other parents of trans kids who donated money to make the trip more comfortable.
“What transgender expansive young people need is what all young people need: They need love and support, and they need unconditional respect,” said Robert Marx, an assistant professor of child and adolescent development at San José State University. Marx studies support systems for LGBTQ and trans people aged 13 to 25. “They need to feel included and part of a family.”
In Indiana, rancorous legislative debates, agitated family relationships and exhaustive efforts to find care have drawn families to the support group GEKCO, founded by Krisztina Inskeep, whose adult son is transgender. Attendance at monthly meetings spiked after the state legislature advanced bills targeting trans youth, she said.
“I think most parents want to do best by their kids,” Inskeep said. “It’s rather new to people, this idea that gender is not just a binary and that your kid is not just who they thought at birth.”
The perceptions of most parents, Marx said, don’t align neatly with the extremes of full support or rejection of their kids’ identities.
“Most parents exist in a kind of gray area,” Marx said. “Most parents are going through some kind of developmental process themselves as they come to understand their child’s gender.”
‘This is just like who I am’
On June 13, Flower and Jennilyn set off on their trip, unsteady but hopeful. They brought a care plan from Indiana University’s Riley Children’s Hospital, the Hoosier State’s only gender clinic.
At the time, the pair worried whether Chicago providers could meet their request for full-time support or as a backup if Indiana’s ban went on hold. They considered whether they could make the drive every three months, the necessary interval between Flower’s puberty blockers.
The decision for Flower to start puberty blockers two years ago wasn’t one the family took lightly.
Jennilyn recalled asking early on whether her daughter’s gender expression was permanent. She wondered if she had failed as a mom, especially while pregnant — was it an incorrect food? A missed vitamin?
Ultimately she and Kris dismissed those theories, ungrounded in science, and listened to their daughter, who recalled the euphoria of wearing princess dresses at an early age. Flower cherished a Little Red Riding Hood cape and felt certain of her identity from the start.
Flower Nichols in Chicago on June 13.Teresa Crawford / AP file
“I remember that I really disliked my name,” Flower said of her birth name. “This is just like who I am. It’s all that I have a memory of.”
Conversations between Flower and her mother are often marked by uncommon candor, as when discussing early memories together at an Indianapolis park.
“Before I knew you and before I walked this journey with you,” Jennilyn told her, “I would not have thought that a kid would know they were trans or that a kid would just come out wired that way. I always thought that that was something adults figured out, and so there were times that it was really scary because I didn’t know how the world would accept you. I didn’t know how to keep you safe.”
Now, Jennilyn said, her worries have shifted to Flower’s spelling skills and how she’ll navigate crushes.
Flower, for her part, appreciates being heard. She said she and her parents make medical decisions together because, “of course, they can’t decide on a medicine for me to take.”
“At the same time, you can’t pick a medicine that we can’t afford to pay for or that, you know, might harm you,” Jennilyn responded.
“That’s what I really like about her,” Flower said, of her mother. “She leaves a lot of my life up to me.”
‘They’re ripping our lives apart’
In Mississippi, a ban on gender-affirming care became law in the state on Feb. 28 — prompting a father and his trans son to leave the state at the end of July for Virginia. There, he can keep his health care and continue to see doctors.
“We are essentially escaping up north,” said Ray Walker, 17.
Walker lives with his mother, Katie Rives, in a suburb of Jackson, the state capital. His parents are divorced, but his father also lived in the area. Halfway through high school, Walker is an honors student with an interest in theater and cooking. He has a supportive group of friends.
When Mississippi Republican Gov. Tate Reeves signed the bill banning hormone therapy for anyone younger than 18, he accused “radical activists” of pushing a “sick and twisted ideology that seeks to convince our kids they’re in the wrong body.”
Mississippi Republican Gov. Tate Reeves signs Mississippi House Bill 1125 to ban gender-affirming care in the state for anyone younger than 18 on Feb. 28 in Jackson.Rogelio V. Solis / AP file
The state’s largest hospital halted hormone treatments for trans minors months before Reeves signed the ban. That hospital later closed its LGBTQ clinic.
After that clinic stopped offering its services, Walker and other teenagers received treatment at a smaller facility in another city, but those services ended once the ban took effect.
As access to gender-affirming dwindled and was later outlawed, Walker’s father, who declined to be interviewed, accepted a job in Virginia, where his son could keep his health care. Walker plans to move in with his father this month. Rives, however, is staying in Mississippi with her two younger children.
Walker’s memories of the anguished period when he started puberty at 12 still haunt him. “My body couldn’t handle what was happening to it,” he said.
After a yearslong process of evaluations, then puberty blockers and hormone injections, Walker said his self-image improved.
Then the broad effort in conservative states to restrict gender-affirming care set its sights on Mississippi. The path toward stability that Walker and his family forged had narrowed. It soon became impassable.
Ray Walker, 17, left, and his mother, Katie Rives, discuss his moving to Virginia for continued gender-affirming care on June 28 in Madison County, Miss.Rogelio V. Solis / AP file
“I was born this way. It’s who I am. I can’t not exist this way,” Walker said. “We were under the impression that I still had two years left to live here. The law just ripped all of that up. They’re ripping our lives apart.”
The family sees no alternative.
“Mississippi is my home, but there are a lot of conflicting feelings when your home is actively telling you that it doesn’t want you in it,” Walker said.
As Walker’s moving date approaches, Rives savors the moments the family shares together. She braces for the physical distance that will soon be between them. Her two younger sons will lose Ray’s brotherly presence in their daily lives.
She still feels lucky.
“We know that’s an incredibly privileged position to be in,” Rives said of her son moving to Virginia. “Most people in Mississippi cannot afford to just move to another state or even go to another state for care.”
‘She belongs’
Flower, initially dispirited by the debates at the Indiana Statehouse, brightened after her parents took her to her first Pride march on June 10 in Indianapolis.
She tied a transgender pride flag around her shoulders and covered her pink shirt in every rainbow heart-shaped sticker she could find. She gripped a sign that read: “She belongs.”
Her favorite activities are often less inflected with politics than her status as a soon-to-be teenager. She’s a Girl Scout who enjoys catching Pokemon with her brother. Before the trip, she zipped around an Indianapolis park on a pink scooter, her hair tangled by the wind.
Flower Nichols and her mother, Jennilyn, in front of the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago on June 13.Teresa Crawford / AP file
Prior to entering Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry, Flower used a women’s bathroom. At a diner in the city, she ordered a mint chocolate chip milkshake and a vegan grilled cheese. Jennilyn created an itinerary to make their experience as joyful and uncomplicated as possible.
“First of all, we’re going be able to chill at the hotel in the morning,” Flower said. “Second of all, there’s a park nearby that we can have a lot of fun in. Third of all, we might have a backup plan, which is really exciting. And fourth of all: Candy store!”
The doctor’s appointment the following day, initially intimidating, soon gave them another reason to celebrate: If care was not available in Indiana, they could get it in Chicago.
“Indiana could do whatever the hell they’re going to do,” Jennilyn said, “and we can just come here.”
