As attacks against trans youth continue across the country, the ACLU is shining the spotlight on those who are often at the center of harmful anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and discourse: transgender youth.

Unfortunately, trans youth continue to face malicious attacks on their safety and dignity as lawmakers actively seek to invalidate and infringe upon their right to live and express themselves as they choose. With almost 500 anti-LGBTQ bills circulating across state legislatures nationwide, more than 25 percent of those bills attempt to restrict or ban gender-affirming care for trans kids, and nearly 50 percent prevent trans students from participating in sports or prohibit LGBTQ safe spaces or discussions of any kind in schools.

What trans kids need most as growing kids and adolescents is not more pressure to conform or change themselves, but endless support to continue to grow and thrive as they are.

In a recent episode of ACLU’s At Liberty podcast, we talk to three trans kids — Hobbes, Jayden, and Dylan — about their lives, their experiences, and their perspectives as part of the trans community.

Hobbes, a 16-year-old who’s passionate about advocacy and robotics, recently helped organize a trans prom in front of the U.S. Capitol, and has dreams of building a prosthetic in the next few years. Jayden, a 15-year-old from Illinois, plans to pursue a computer science degree so she can combine her love for art and technology to share meaningful stories. And Dylan, a 17-year-old who wants to be an educator, is a plaintiff in our Brandt v. Rutledge case, who fought and won the battle to protect transgender youth and their families’ right to access gender-affirming care in Arkansas.

These kids face challenging circumstances to live as who they truly are, and still, as At Liberty host Kendall Ciesemier puts it, “Trans kids are simply kids. We should listen to and embrace them as such.”

Here, they share their stories in their own words.

This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Hobbes: “For me, my biggest supporter, my biggest advocate is my father. He was there for me since day one. You know, he’s constantly educating himself about everything within the transgender community, which I find is very, very admirable. A lot of people kind of just take whatever they’re given at face value and assume that how it is is fine and they’ll just move on with whatever they’re given. But my father will actively search out more information, find out how he can better support not just me, but the community as a whole. That’s kind of why he’s such a large advocate. It inspires me to be like him. He’s one of my role models. I just really love my dad.”

Jayden: “So typically when I go to school, I have a smaller support group of friends. They’re always there for me. But when I was younger, like in middle school, around the time when I came out, it was really difficult for me because all the teachers and all the people that I was friends with didn’t see me the way that I saw myself. And it was really difficult for me to try to get, you know, for me to try to get better. With everybody seeing me as the opposite gender, what I identified as, and I don’t think that they were doing it to hurt me. I think it was just difficult for them and they didn’t understand. But when I got to high school, I was able to change like high school districts because I moved out of the state I was in at the time. It was like a fresh start. It was so much easier for me because I introduced myself the way that I saw myself, and it was way easier. And the people who I am still friends with today are the ones that sort me out and were just there supporting each other.

“Last year, I think it was me and a bunch of friends. I had them come over so we could, like, have dinner. We were going to go to homecoming as a group together. And so I had them bring all their makeup and we ate food at my house and we got ready. And I didn’t have any at the time because I’m like, I don’t know how to use it. So they let me use their makeup and they made sure that I felt pretty and they made sure that I was confident in the way that I looked because they just cared about me.”

Dylan: “I’d say I was friends with all the guys, you know? Third or fourth grade, I grew up playing football outside at recess with them, and I was friends with most of those guys up until I came out. And that was kind of the turning point for them that they didn’t think that that was okay. And so I lost all of them.

“But then I gained so many more people who loved me and supported me unconditionally. And so I’ve got my group of friends, my best friend who just graduated has helped me through all these years of high school. And I am absolutely in awe of her. She grew up with a very different mindset until she met me and she’s become one of my biggest supporters. And I really look up to her for that because it takes a lot. You know, growing up in the South and growing up with a mindset where maybe that’s not okay for a lot of people, I’ve just become very close with a small group of people. But that’s fine with me, and they’re all very supportive teachers at my school.

“I have my principal. I love her with my entire heart. From the moment that I came to her one day and was like, ‘Hey, this is going on,’ she made it a point to check in with me all the time. If there was ever a situation that needed to be handled, she handled it right then and there.”

Dylan: “We have had many conversations within my family about this. If for some reason I can’t get my hormones here in Arkansas, we would have to leave. And that is not going to be easy. My mom owns a small business here in town. I have a job. I’m going into my senior year, and my brother is going and starting his sophomore year. He’s been doing care for the past four years and really enjoys it, is really in love with his team. We have friends. Our entire family is in this town. And my mom is a single parent. It would be really hard to leave, but we would have to do it because to me, not getting it isn’t an option.

“I don’t think that that would end very well. Just because I know how happy I am now and the thought of having to lose that, I feel it would be way worse than it was when I never started it.”

Jayden: “Hearing about the trans health care ban that passed in Idaho was shocking because I didn’t know how a bill like this could come out in the first place.t It’s blatantly attacking trans people, and I don’t get how anybody could see it any other way. It’s either people refuse to see it for how it is or just don’t care. It was shocking. The moment that I saw that it was on the table in Idaho, I was really, really hoping that it wouldn’t happen. But, you know, part of me realized that this is something that we’re going to have to fight hard. It’s really harmful to think that the people who govern your state don’t have your best interest in mind, that they’re out there for everybody else who is in the majority and are willing to attack people in the minority in order to appease those in the majority.

“In the event that, you know, I’m not able to get the medication I need to … I’ve been on estrogen since, like, February I think. And I’ve talked to my doctor about this. We’re trying to come up with a plan. Worst case scenario … I can just go to Oregon to get that. But that’s still going to be rough. Because that means a whole, you know, changing of doctors and all those complications or whenever I need those refills, I need to go to Oregon to get them.”

Hobbes: “I’m fully aware of everything that’s happening in the country. And I feel the main thing, the main emotion I have is somewhat being overwhelmed, of being upset and frustrated because while it’s not happening directly to me, it’s happening to people in my community. You know, I connect to the both of you in the sense that when I started my hormone therapy, I felt a thousand times better than beforehand, right? I felt like I was finally able to open the door and start my way. Progress towards the person that I know I am and form that proper self. So to imagine, even just fathom the fact that in certain places they’re trying to or are actively barring other people from it and inhibiting your ability to feel yourself. It’s … it’s sort of malevolent. It hurts me to even just hear, you know, my heart goes out.

“It does also move me to the advocacy that I’ve been trying to get into. It moves me to know that when I helped to put on events like the trans prom, I’m not just doing it for the party guests, but I’m doing it for the message and the effect which it spreads, which will in turn help the entire community. It helps me stay motivated. It helps remind me exactly what I’m working for.”

Dylan: “I think that something that I have said since I started advocating, something that I end most interviews or speeches with, is you are not alone. I feel like people just need to hear that because for a while I thought that I was, until I realized I wasn’t. You are absolutely not alone. There are so many people willing to fight for you and that are fighting for you. So don’t for a second think that you’re alone.”

Hobbes: “Yeah. I have to say, I completely second that notion, and I feel like to add on to that, with all these people who are fighting and all these people who are constantly supporting I hope that one day in the future we will have a society in which saying that you are transgender is no different from saying that you are just a person, right? That one can identify themselves however they please without anyone casting a second glance.”

Jayden: “And I really hope that for those of you out there that are younger and you find yourself caught in the hurricane, that is the quote unquote “trans debate,” that you can find the eye of that hurricane and just learn to be yourself. Because, you know, as the recurring theme here, you’re not alone. And no matter how far you sink, there will always be someone there that is willing to lift you back up.”

You can listen to the full episode here.

In this interview, Senior Indigenous Justice Staff Attorney Preston Sanchez explains why access to language assistance is vital to the overall health of Indigenous people. The discussion stems from a lawsuit ACLU-NM and the Fine Law Firm filed against San Juan Regional Medical Center (SJRMC) for failing to provide Navajo elder, Larry Williams, with a certified Navajo language interpreter, leading to his misdiagnosis and untimely death in 2018.

One early, winter morning, Larry Williams’s family noticed that he was speaking incoherently and had difficulty keeping his balance. They rushed him to the nearest emergency room at the SJRMC in Farmington. His wife, Lenora Williams, who usually translated for him during medical visits, had to leave for her own dialysis appointment. She expressed anxiety about leaving him, but SJRMC staff assured her he would be well cared for. Two of his adult daughters, who are not fluent in Navajo, remained with him.

Photo left: Larry Williams dancing with his daughter.

According to medical records, SJRMC staff never considered Larry’s language needs nor provided him with a Navajo interpreter. In its failure to communicate adequately with Larry, SJRMC staff failed to observe his altered mental state – a common symptom associated with the onset of sepsis. Instead, they only treated Larry for a simple urinary tract infection and discharged him that afternoon. Larry’s undiagnosed condition continued to worsen. That same evening, his family rushed him back to SJRMC, where staff determined that he was suffering from severe septic shock. He died two days later.

"San Juan Regional Medical Center has a legal duty to provide language assistance to its patients who are limited English proficient; and that means providing them a Navajo interpreter."

Maria Archuleta (MA): Thanks for making the time, Preston. When I talk about this case with people, I get mixed reactions. Many, like me, are outraged. Others ask, “Why couldn’t his daughters, who were with him at the hospital, interpret for him?” or “Did he really not speak English?” Could you talk about Native elders who speak primarily Indigenous languages and why they need interpretation?

Preston Sanchez (PS): New Mexico is home to 23 tribal nations. Among them, seven different Native languages are spoken. In fact, many of our Native elders today grew up in households and communities where those languages were – and still are – the primary languages spoken day-to-day.   

In the case of Larry Williams, for example, who was 67 years old at the time of his death, he spoke primarily in Navajo with his family. He was also a union welder for a really long time, working with other Navajo speakers. Throughout his entire life he had been immersed in the Navajo language and culture. Only periodically was he required to consult with doctors in English. However, his wife usually translated for him during those visits – but those visits were never emergency related visits.

His daughters speak some Navajo, but they’re not fluent. More importantly, though, medical terminology is very technical for anyone to understand. It would be extremely difficult for any person who speaks Navajo — or any language other than English — to be a translator between a doctor and patients like Larry who are limited-English proficient. That is why certain legal standards exist that require hospitals to provide language assistance to limited-English patients, like Larry, to ensure adequate communication occurs between medical staff and the patients they serve.   

 

MA: This unfortunate scenario can take so many different forms. My family is from up north and my grandparents spoke primarily Spanish. My paternal grandparents definitely would’ve needed a language interpreter to communicate about their medical needs. There’s no way I could have translated for them. For that matter, with my very imperfect Spanish, I would need one myself if I had a medical emergency in a Spanish speaking country.

His daughters talked about his deep knowledge of the Navajo language and Navajo traditions. People would seek him out for his wisdom. The loss of a traditional elder has a ripple effect across many generations.

PS: Absolutely. Imagine you visit a country where you know only enough of the language to order tacos and a beer and maybe enough to haggle about a blanket at the local market. Maybe you even speak the language enough to have meaningful conversations with strangers. But, if you were to have a medical emergency like Larry’s, where you feel confused, disoriented, unable to walk in a straight line, and unable to breathe – then you might be in trouble at a hospital. No one can comprehend what you’re saying, and you have no one to speak on your behalf. Any one of us would need an interpreter to help us communicate about our medical needs in that situation. We all need to be able to communicate and comprehend pretty complicated medical jargon to survive.

MA: The staff assumed Larry Wiliams spoke English?   

PS: The doctor who diagnosed Larry did not think there was any language barrier. He was also not at all familiar with the term Limited-English Proficient and he didn’t know about any SJRMC policy or training requiring language assistance. According to the doctor, about 60% of the patients he serves are Navajo. This all points to a systemic problem at SJRMC and, we suspect, at other hospitals across the state. Medical staff appear to lack any awareness about potential language or cultural barriers.

MA: It’s beyond belief that the doctor could go through a whole treatment of a patient at a high risk of death and never notice that he wasn’t proficient in English. I know his daughters did their best to advocate for him, but could you tell me why we shouldn’t expect family and friends to interpret in situations like these?

Photo above: San Juan County Regional Medical Center in Farmington

PS: Even if Larry Williams’ daughters spoke perfect Navajo, it takes certified training to be able to convert medical terms from English to Navajo and vice-versa. Not every medical term can even be translated into Navajo because the words in Navajo just don’t exist. Most of us don’t understand much medical terminology, and it’s not easy to understand what’s going on even when you are completely fluent in English. The same is true for legal matters. I can speak just a little bit of Navajo – enough to communicate with Navajo speakers about the weather -- but would I be able to speak to clients about complex legal issues in Navajo. F** no. If I had a client who primarily speaks Navajo, he or she would obviously need a Navajo interpreter who specializes in legal matters. It would be unethical for me to assume that a limited English proficient client would understand me – and vice versa.   

"We want New Mexico hospitals to know that they need to provide their Indigenous patients with adequate language assistance and that they’ll be held accountable if not."

Larry’s wife Lenora is fluent in Navajo and was usually with him at appointments, but she couldn’t miss her own dialysis appointment that day. But even if Lenora had been there, she shouldn’t have had to bear the burden of acting as a medical interpreter. Not to mention, SJRMC has a legal duty to provide language assistance to its patients who are limited English proficient; and that means providing them a Navajo interpreter.

MA: This tragic and senseless death shows the importance of how much education needs to happen about the needs of the diverse cultures in New Mexico.

PS: Absolutely, people’s lives depend on it.

It’s also important to remember that Larry’s death was not only a terrible loss to his family but to his entire community. His daughters talked about his deep knowledge of the Navajo language and Navajo traditions. People would seek him out for his wisdom. The loss of a traditional elder has a ripple effect across many generations. So, this situation is extremely unfortunate.

MA: One last question. What are you hoping to achieve with this case?

PS: We want New Mexico hospitals to know that they need to provide their Indigenous patients with adequate language assistance and that they’ll be held accountable if not. Language assistance is vital to the overall health of our Indigenous People.

MA: Thanks for talking to me.

PS: Anytime, Maria.