Trans Teens in Arkansas Have An Uncertain Future


Fayetteville, Arc. — Zara Banks had been looking forward to her 14th birthday for years – last June, the moment her life would stop.

Being a transgender girl, Zara has been sure since she was 8 that she wanted to grow up to be a woman. After conversations with her family and sessions with a therapist, she began to transition socially: changing her name to Zara and pronouns. At the age of 9, she began treatment with puberty blockers, drugs that would put her physiological development in limbo until she was 14 years old, according to her doctor, to begin estrogen therapy and develop a feminine body.

But last spring, Arkansas passed a law that was the first of its kind in the country, banning doctors from administering hormones or puberty-blocking drugs to transgender people under the age of 18. It would take effect on July 28, about a month after Asa Hutchinson and Zara’s birthdays. It is now paused due to a legal challenge from the American Civil Liberties Union.

Zara managed to take hormones while the court case was pending, but is worried about what the future holds. “After waiting this long, I’m really happy to get something I’ve needed for so long,” she said as she sat in her suburban backyard amid the hum of cicadas with her parents, Jasmine and Mo Banks.

In recent years, an increasing number of American teens have emerged as transgender and sought medical care to realign their bodies with their gender identity. Even as the medical community grapples with how best to provide this type of care, states across the country have passed laws banning it outright; there are medical groups prisoner These laws are dangerous.

Leading medical associations including Endocrine Society and American Academy of Pediatricsrecommend that such care be offered to patients under the age of 18. Still, clinicians are divided on best practices. Last month, an international group of experts focused on transgender health released a draft. New care guidelines suggesting a more cautious stance towards minorsgenerally persons who are unable to give full legal consent until they reach the age of 18.

Puberty blockers and hormone therapy, two treatments primarily given to minors, are most effective between the ages of 8 and 14 where possible. avoid the need for future surgeries in adulthood; for example, a transgender child who takes puberty blockers may not need a mastectomy later on. There are risks with drug treatments, including slowing bone growth and loss of fertility, but evidence shows that not giving care to adolescents in need increases the risk of depression and suicide.

Pressure to completely ban this kind of care gained momentum last year Republicans across the country have embraced the issue.. Arkansas and Tennessee are the only states to pass such laws—Tennessee has banned gender-affirming care for children who have not yet reached puberty, a population that currently does not receive such care—and 19 more states have taken them into account. Williams Institute At UCLA Law School.

If passed, Arkansas legislation would also prohibit doctors from referring patients to other medical professionals for drugs or surgery. Doctors providing this care may lose their licenses or be subject to legal action. The law would also allow private insurance companies to refuse such care to transgender patients of all ages.

one week before the law comes into force, but temporarily blocked by a federal judge in response to the ACLU’s legal challenge. The trial was adjourned until July. Transgender adolescents and their families now live with uncertainty.

“It is pretty unbearable for a parent to be told by the government that it would become illegal to give your child what he should have,” said Jasmine Banks.

“Who I am and what I am not is not someone else’s decision,” Zara added.

Sabrina Jennen, 16, from Fayetteville, wonders if ghosts exist and what it’s like to meet one.

“People are much scarier than ghosts,” he said on a stormy day in Gulley Park, a sloping green space near his neighbor.

Transgender teens are often prescribed gender-affirming hormones after they go through mental health assessments and show persistent distress due to the gap between their bodies and gender identities.

Sabrina joined her parents at the age of 15 in July 2020. She saw a therapist, was diagnosed with gender dysphoria, and had many conversations with her parents, Lacey and Aaron Jennen. By last January, she felt ready to start hormone therapy. Then the SAFE Act was passed.

“I felt like my life was being signed,” Sabrina said. He stayed awake at night, dreaming that he would come. “It would really have been Sabrina’s death if it had been,” he said. “I can’t live and be myself.”

When the bill passed, his family asked him if he wanted to be a plaintiff in the ACLU lawsuit. He did. “If it’s not me, it will be someone else,” he said. “And if it’s no one else, there will be no one.”

In March 2021, the bill’s sponsor, Representative Robin Lundstrum, compared sex-affirming surgery to “mutilation”.He is discussing the bill in a commission. Representative Alan Clark, another sponsor of the bill, specification hormone treatments are considered “experimental.” (Ms. Lundstrum and Mr. Clark did not respond to multiple requests for interviews.)

( latest recommended standards Care recommends a minimum age of 15 for thoracic surgery and 17 for genital surgery, and each patient’s case is considered individually. In Arkansas, no doctor currently performs any gender-confirming surgery on minors.)

Dylan Brandt, 16, of Greenwood, is another plaintiff. He and his mother, Joanna Brandt, were in the State Assembly during the hearing of the bill.

“It was hard to listen to because again they were saying horrible things about me and a lot of other people,” she said.

D., a pediatric endocrinologist who treats transgender adolescents in Arkansas. Michele Hutchison was one of the few medical professionals to testify against the bill. He told legislators that many of his young patients had attempted suicide after learning of the bill.

Speaking at the trial, Ms Brandt described the experience as “heartbreaking”. Dylan stood behind him; “As she testified, Miss Lundstrum approached and started talking to her,” she said.

“He looked me in the eye and shook my hand, and 10 minutes later he had the House of Representatives voted to take away my rights,” Dylan said. “We’re just kids trying to live our lives and they’re trying to make it harder and I don’t quite get it.”

Last spring, Reverend Clint Schnekloth, pastor of the Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Fayetteville, began hearing from young congregation members who feared the SAFE Act might bring. Several parents of gender-nonconforming children reached out.

‘My child is having suicidal thoughts from anxiety about these laws,’ said one of the parents, Pastor Schnekloth. “So what can we do?” I thought.

he started Queer Camphosted 86 children for one week in July. The camp’s director, Conner Newsome Doyle, said it now offers camp activities that include birds, insects, and sports, as well as a name-changing clinic and a “pass-through locker” where children can donate non-gender-appropriate clothing and choose new outfits. .

Sabrina, who attended the camp, chose a black ball gown from the closet. He remembered the first time the camp was surrounded by queer and transgender people his own age. “It definitely felt safe,” he said.

At school in Greenwood, Dylan said he was bullied so much that he eventually quit and spent several years being homeschooled. He returned with great concern last fall.

“I went into the building for the open house and felt like I couldn’t breathe,” he said.

But this time things were different. He remembered that one day in art class, a classmate had said something transphobic to him and a girl from the back of the class interrupted him. “I don’t know who it was, but it went after him,” she said.

During Pride weekend in Fayetteville last summer, Zara spoke out against the bill in front of hundreds of people at Arkansas’ first Trans March. He worked his lines there at home and in the car. “I don’t normally like to speak in public,” Zara said. “That’s just the reality of the situation we’re in right now.”

Some families in Arkansas have considered leaving the state to ensure their children have access to gender-affirming healthcare. George and Emily Spurrier, who lived in the state for 16 years last summer, affected She traveled to New Mexico to make sure their 17-year-old son, Cas, could continue on hormone therapy. Camille and Homero Rey in August affected Along with their teenage son, Leon, the Texas teen transgender passed a bill that would classify gender-affirming care for minors as child abuse, but did not pass it—to Maryland.

For other families, moving isn’t an option.

Zara’s parents grew up in the South and mutual aid organization Distributes funds to people in need in Arkansas, including caregivers and parents of transgender children. “I don’t have a lot of money in my family,” said non-duo Mo Banks. “We can’t leave the state”

Zara wants to leave; As a black transgender girl, she disproportionately vulnerable against violence and discrimination. When he sees transgender youth in the media, he sees white children whose experiences are fundamentally different from his own. Given how hard these young people are struggling to be accepted, “What hope do we have for black transgender children?” she wondered.

She dreams of moving to a more accepting place after high school. “I know one thing,” he said. “I will no longer be here when I can.”



Source link

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *