With Florida's Trans Bathroom Ban, The World Feels Smaller For People Like Me

Anti-trans laws have swept across the country. With them, the world feels like it is getting smaller. I ask myself... when will the borders of where it is safe get to me?

Photo by Possessed Photography on Unsplash

Over the past four years, I have closely monitored the rise of anti-trans legislation, and it seems the world is getting smaller for transgender individuals. The spaces where we can exist without restrictions are dwindling, as governments in the United States and around the globe implement policies aimed at excluding us from daily life. From my vantage point in Maryland, a state with progressive policies such as the recent comprehensive healthcare protections for transgender individuals, I have watched this alarming trend unfold. Having been born and raised in Louisiana, I can't help but worry about the day my ability to return home might be jeopardized.

This concern became a reality for transgender individuals in Florida just yesterday. The state's House Bill 1521, which has now passed and is awaiting the governor's signature, will effectively relegate transgender people to second-class citizen status. Under this legislation, if a cisgender person demands that a transgender person leave a restroom corresponding to their gender identity, non-compliance will result in arrest and criminal penalties. As a post-op transgender woman who is consistently recognized as my correct gender, I can never safely use a male restroom. This new development underscores the harsh reality that the world is becoming increasingly inhospitable for people like me.

You can see the provisions here:

Bathroom Ban In Florida

Florida stands on the brink of legally prohibiting transgender individuals from using restrooms in public buildings, with violators facing penalties. It is crucial to understand that the term "public buildings" encompasses a wide range of facilities in this Florida legislation, including government-owned or leased structures such as major airports, stadiums, concert venues, parks, beaches, rest stops, convention centers, and universities. As transgender people continue to use restrooms that align with their gender identities, they will inevitably come into conflict with this law. The legislation effectively deputizes cisgender individuals as bathroom enforcers, tasking them with identifying and reporting suspected transgender people for arrest and subsequent gender investigation.

The ramifications are deeply troubling. What options do I have if I am traveling and my connecting flight is at a major Florida airport? What recourse is available to me if a significant convention takes place in Orlando? How can I possibly use a men's restroom when the majority of people perceive me as a woman and the facilities may not even provide the necessary accommodations I require as a post-op transgender woman with needs more akin to those of cisgender women? Who will safeguard me and others like me from potential violence?

I suspect that is the intent of this law - to make me feel like I cannot travel to or through the state. That was certainly the case whenever Christina Pushaw, who works under Governor Ron DeSantis, posted the “wave” emoji in response to a news article about many LGBTQ+ families leaving Florida. They know that these laws shrink the spaces in which LGBTQ+ people are allowed to exist freely, and they revel in it:

This is not the first time the world has shrunk in this way for transgender people. Years ago, House Bill 2 passed in North Carolina that similarly banned transgender people from restrooms. In many ways, it was not as extreme as this Florida law - it did not specify criminal penalties, for instance. There was a massive backlash to it - Paypal and Deutsche Bank pulled out and the debacle cost the state over $3 billion. The failure of this law set the anti-trans movement back by 4 years - nobody dared pass another law like it after that. We are now back to those days, and it feels like the world is noticeably more hostile than it was back in 2016.

Florida is not the only place that seems out of reach of transgender people. Kansas has also recently enacted a bathroom ban, although its enforcement methods remain unclear. Texas has repurposed child abuse laws to target the parents of transgender youth, while Missouri is forcing transgender adults off their necessary medication. In Montana, a religious right of refusal has been established, which could enable care providers to deny services to LGBTQ+ individuals. Additionally, a Montana law now prohibits updating driver's licenses for transgender people and dictates that they be buried under their assigned sex at birth. When watching anti-trans legislation from my perspective, I see a map with borders that seem to be getting increasingly “no-go” zones for people like me.

It is in this new world of harsh laws targeting transgender people that we now see travel advisories by LGBTQ+ organizations warning that places like Florida are not safe to travel. The final words of Equality Florida’s travel advisory are chilling, and not something you would ever expect to hear of a state in the United States:

Taken in their totality, Florida’s slate of laws and policies targeting basic freedoms and rights pose a serious risk to the health and safety of those traveling to the state. We regret that these attacks have already led many to flee the state and are driving others to consider relocation. And, in a state whose economy is fueled by visitors from around the world, it is with great sadness that Equality Florida has had to take the extraordinary step of responding to inquiries by issuing an official advisory warning about the risks of travel to the state.

What steps can we take in response to this troubling reality? It seems that for many of us, the increasingly restrictive landscape presents daunting choices. Should we meticulously plan our movements in a nation that claims to champion freedom, yet harbors pockets of political forces intent on erasing our existence? Do we resist, risking imprisonment in facilities designated for our assigned sex at birth, as dictated by these same laws? Do we lie low, hoping the situation improves, and what if it never does? As I contemplate the shrinking world we inhabit, I often wonder where the limit lies. I doubt that this will end with restroom restrictions. If it continues, what will be the ultimate outcome? I fear the worst.

In the meantime, I will seek out safe havens to offer support to those who are trapped and amplify their voices to the world, holding onto the hope of a better future where the promise of American freedom truly extends to people like me.