Copyright truthout
When President Donald Trump took office in January, one of his first executive orders declared that trans people in federal prisons would be moved back to facilities that align with their assigned sex at birth. These events were unsurprising to many incarcerated trans people, particularly in states like Florida, where trans people have already been coping with a binary-gender regime enforced by despotic leaders like Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott. Rayne Vylette is an activist and writer currently living behind bars in Florida and organizing with the Alyssa Rodriguez Center for Gender Justice (ARC). In 2023, Vylette joined Interrupting Criminalization’s cohort of abolitionist journalists inside and outside of prison; during the period of the cohort, she was re-arrested by the state of Florida on a probation violation and put back in prison for 30 years. In 2024, Vylette collaborated with other incarcerated activists to put on a TEDx-style event about censorship behind prison walls; and throughout the last few years, she has been sharing about the rapidly deteriorating conditions for trans women in Florida prisons. This is an edited version of our conversation about how she is surviving the new administration as a trans woman behind bars. Lewis Raven Wallace: Rayne, can you share a little bit about the activism you are doing as an incarcerated trans woman in the state of Florida? Rayne Vylette: I’ve been an advocate and activist for the transgender community for the majority of my time in prison, understanding that some changes can only be instigated from within. I’m not happy to be here, but I am happy to be able to do what I can until my incarceration ends, and then to continue beyond. I’ve been connected to and a part of many organizations as an advocate. For many, such as Black & Pink and LAGAI, this mostly involved writing letters or articles for submission, and finding those submissions occasionally published. For other organizations, such as the Prisoner Correspondence Project (PCP) and ARC, I’ve served in an advisory capacity and been able to participate in many meaningful projects. A big part of what I’ve done involves education and empowerment. Education, first, because many trans women, inside and out, aren’t fully aware of the laws and policies that affect them, or of the proposed legislation yet to be passed. I’ve written articles about trans policies and even published a blog when I was free. The second part of what I like to do is to empower those in the transgender community, as well as our allies. I’ve been part of a webinar about surviving as a trans woman in prison, have helped craft a legislative guide, and am currently helping to craft an administrative advocacy guide. On another level, more grassroots, I’ve helped other girls in here use the administrative remedy process, the grievance procedure, to request that prison officials respond to complaints with appropriate corrective action. Many people simply don’t know what to say, how to say it, or who to say it to. It’s easy to feel powerless in here. I try to fight that. What has been happening for trans people in Florida over the last couple of years? These last several years have been pretty difficult for trans women in Florida, both those incarcerated and those free. I was arrested again in mid-2023, but even then, before Trump’s return, I had several trans friends seriously considering or actively planning their exit from Florida. I know of at least one who has since moved to Seattle. See, in 2022 and 2023, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis and his co-conspirators in the Florida legislature turned up the heat on the LGBTQ community generally, but especially targeted transgender Floridians. We were an obvious political lightning rod, and were used as a tool to galvanize the Republican electorate and, I feel, to distract from more substantive concerns faced by all Floridians. Only months before my arrest in July 2023, Governor DeSantis and the Republican-majority legislature passed SB 254. Part of what this did was ban state funding for gender-affirming care, as well as require that cross-sex hormone therapy be administered only by a medical doctor, an MD. My clinic, where I got my hormones, only employed one doctor. Some clinics, because they couldn’t accommodate their case load like this, began discontinuing HRT [hormone replacement therapy]-related services. It was devastating. I was lucky to have good insurance and to be able to find another provider. Still, to ensure continuation of my HRT, I also purchased my hormones on the black market like many other girls. This also threatened access for those in prison or state mental institutions, since they were dependent on the state. Transmisogyny is at an all-time high because of all this anti-trans rhetoric at both the state and federal levels, and that affects all of us. Now, if you’re asking specifically about those of us in prison, things have been difficult for us as well. In 2018, one trans woman currently incarcerated, Reiyn Keohane, filed a civil suit challenging her restricted access to her HRT and lack of gender-affirming care. She won, and between 2018 and 2024, a few hundred prisoners were diagnosed by the now-defunct Gender Dysphoria Review Team and “approved” with a formal gender dysphoria diagnosis, possible access to HRT, and a number of social transition accommodations such as female undergarments, female canteen items, and female grooming standards. So, for some trans women, they had been receiving treatment that included these accommodations for about seven years. On September 30, 2024, it was announced that all of this was coming to an end. The policy governing our treatment, 403.012, was repealed. The new policy was defined in Health Services Bulletin (HSB) 15.05.23, which eliminated all social transition accommodations and raised the bar for both the gender dysphoria diagnosis and the medical interventions available, such as hormone therapy. By the end of October 2024, we were all made to cut our hair in accordance with male grooming standards, to turn in our bras and panties, and to mail home our formerly approved makeup and hair care items. Naturally, this was followed by a storm of grievances, and the original plaintiff herself, Reiyn Keohane, filed another suit with the ACLU. The request for a preliminary injunction was denied, but we have another hearing in 2026. Stay tuned. We’ve been denied “bra passes” for our substantial female breasts, a denial that denies us both support and modesty and presents a threat to our safety. In the meantime, the grievances continue and we wait for our reevaluations. And a miracle. Have things changed with the Trump administration? Things have changed with the Trump administration! People have said of Trump that he normalizes hatred. Condones it. Encourages it. He has attempted to legislate us out of existence, beginning with his declaration that there are only two sexes and genders, and aggressively equating the two. Then reenacting his ban on transgender Americans serving in the military. He’s signed an executive order penalizing those institutions and leagues that allow transgender participation in competitive athletics, particularly targeting transgender women. That’s some low-hanging fruit because of how divisive the issue is even in the queer community, even among other trans women. It keeps a negative focus on us and makes it easier for people to swallow other overtly harmful policies. Another target has been gender-affirming care for transgender youth. Less divisive within the community, but very widely misunderstood by many. A picture is painted of surgeons altering the genitals of children rather than the more accurate portrayal of qualified medical providers delaying puberty and the changes it brings. This delay, by the way, has been accepted for precocious pre-teenagers, so it’s not truly a safety concern. He also ordered changes to the Prison Rape Elimination Act and for transgender women to be removed from female facilities and relocated to male facilities. The Trump-friendly U.S. Supreme Court has upheld some of these policies, most notably upholding a Tennessee ban on gender-affirming care for minors, unfortunately making harmful legal precedent that will probably be used against us. To my knowledge, no state has passed a wholesale ban on all gender-affirming care for both trans minors and adults, but policies like the one enacted in Florida — banning state spending on gender-affirming care for everyone — are effectively a de facto ban on all gender-affirming care for those dependent on the state, like those of us in prisons or mental hospitals. Although a blanket ban is illegal and amounts to an Eighth Amendment violation due to deliberate indifference, it would result in a lengthy and perhaps unsuccessful legal battle. There is a good chance we can winlegal fights, but the process promises to be long and difficult, and the only certain thing is that there will, in the meantime, be suffering. What’s your take on what the Trump administration has been doing and saying about gender? Do you think it will affect you personally? My take on what this moment is really all about is using the controversy concerning all things transgender to galvanize the conservative electorate, to increase their participation in the voting process and to secure Republican power for the long term. I don’t necessarily believe Republican legislators are actually this passionate about eliminating the transgender bogeyperson. We’re a great distraction from the things everyone in the U.S. ought to be really concerned about, like changes to vaccine policy, tariffs, targeting of immigrants, dangerous and aggressive foreign policy, and an economy teetering at the edge of collapse. The focus is instead on whether I’m wearing a skirt or trousers. I’m part of a community that comprises about 1 percent of our population, and yet there is a massive (and very expensive) effort to denigrate and disenfranchise us. It doesn’t matter if your water is safe to drink or your air safe to breathe, as long as people like me are using the restroom some people believe we should use. This ignores that men are grossly uncomfortable and even adversarial when they clock a transgender woman in “their” restroom. I’ve experienced that myself. Our foreign policy is in shambles and it seems inevitable that we’ll eventually be entrenched in a messy, large-scale international conflict, but the important thing is that trans women not be permitted to participate in sports and that even transgender congresspeople are firmly put in their “proper” place. Millions will suffer and die from diseases like AIDS due to our withdrawal of foreign aid, but that matters less than preventing parents and qualified medical professionals from making decisions for minor children, decisions which do no harm and can prevent undesirable consequences like suicidal ideation or worse. We aren’t the monster in the dark that people need to fear. The monster people need to fear walks in the light and sits in a White House. History will reflect the veracity of my words. How are you feeling? How am I feeling? Actually, better. It’s been a rough few years for the mental health of… everyone. Those of us in prison are certainly no exception. I spiraled after my arrest in July 2023, and even more in August when I was resentenced to 30 years. I grieved ungracefully. Messily. And the added stresses of anti-trans rhetoric and policy only exacerbated my anxiety. I’m still anxious about so much… so much. But I’m pulling out of a funk and making more time for the things that matter to me, like my legal battle to come back home, my advocacy efforts, and opportunities like this one. I’m still struggling, but I’m managing my struggle better. I have a lot of support in my life, and a lot of really good people in my corner. I recently attended the Global Leadership Summit, organized by the Global Leadership Network, remotely (of course), for two days. I feel inspired and recharged. Like I was reminded of my purpose and potential. I’m organizing an event so some of us participants can deliver some of that messaging to the compound. I love this feeling that I can make a difference. It’s so easy to believe we don’t matter in here. What is ARC and what is your role there? ARC is the Alyssa Rodriguez Center for Gender Justice, and I am a co-founder and advisory board member. We are an organization focused on creating a more just world for those who are vulnerable and likely to be targets for gender-based sexual violence. Our work arises out of a deep need for those who, already targeted outside, are even more vulnerable within the context and hard reality of the prison system. To that end, we serve four states: Florida, Georgia, New York, and Pennsylvania. We serve by educating, advocating, supporting, and empowering. We educate those inside about their rights and the reality of their challenges. We educate those incarcerated about the legislation and policy that affects them and how they can respond through legislative and administrative advocacy efforts. We educate those on the outside about the reality of the struggle those inside face. We put faces and voices to this struggle, making human those who are otherwise often only conceived of in an abstract or unrealistic manner. We separate the convict from the conviction, and help show the humanity and worth of those who are often easily disregarded or forgotten. We can connect the struggle of those in LGBTQ spaces in the free world to those inside, and frequently see something click when people realize that we all experience some of the same stigma and targeted hate, and that prison conditions and culture encourage that negativity, even exacerbating and amplifying it. ARC’s advocacy includes fighting for the members in our four states in a variety of ways. We work with lawyers to help fight anti-trans legislation and to put pressure on the administrations of many prisons to reasonably address prisoners’ concerns, especially regarding gender-affirming care and access to adequate medical and mental health care. We work with state lawmakers and with other advocacy organizations. This often looks like education, too, especially when we present at various events to call for engagement and financial support. We’re able to call and write on behalf of those inside, and ARC has even been present to support in the courtroom. I’ve seen that myself when ARC spoke on my behalf during my violation of probation sentencing hearing on two separate occasions. After my sentencing and return to prison, ARC helped by sending some money for hygiene items like soap, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, and hair removal creme, none of which is provided by DOC [Department of Corrections] except for soap. When I was preparing for my release, support looked like a fundraising effort to get me back on my feet. Support also looks like our newsletter, The Catalyst, which allows our voices to be heard, educates us, and appeals to those outside for further involvement. ARC helps its members go beyond the abstract to take part in these processes. We write articles for The Catalyst and assist with ARC’s educational efforts. We help others with their grievance process and ensure that our collective voices are as loud as possible. After the Florida DOC changed policy and denied us gender-affirming care, I helped many transgender women write the two or three grievances needed to satisfy the PLRA [Prison Litigation Reform Act] and advance a civil rights complaint. We directly appeal to legislators and policy makers, and by extending support to others inside, we feel less like passive victims of an adversarial system, and more like fighters on the inside. ARC generally seeks people who are already involved in advocacy efforts, and my primary effort was as part of the Prisoner Correspondence Project, part of the “Inside Collective.” When I joined ARC, I met with the others to plan the newsletter, to plan the legislative guide, and to represent ARC during in-person events like the Orlando Strong Symposium and online events like the one concerning trans survivors of gender-based violence. And even after returning to prison, I continued outreach, support, and advocacy efforts. When I return to the free world, I’ll do the same. What can people on the outside do to support you or others in your situation? This is part of it. Get to know me. Connect with me or someone in my situation. Allow yourself to form a relationship with one of us, as real friends. That’s when we transition from being an abstract concept to real people. There is too much misconception and stigma as a result of pop culture. This isn’t “Prison Break,” and I’m not one of RuPaul’s drag queens. Though I love “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” When you connect with us and really get to know us, you have a clearer view of our needs and desires, the joys we’ve found, and the truth of our struggle and the pain it brings. And knowing us that way, you can relate your experience of us to others. You can help humanize us and make us less abstract in the eyes of others. That’s invaluable. But don’t let it stop there. One of the most insidious things about prison is that it tries to mute us. It can’t take our voices away, but it can make it harder for them to be heard. It can’t keep us from extending our voices beyond the fence, but it can erect barriers, both physical and virtual, to make doing so more onerous. You, if you want to help, can be our bridge. You can post our writing to a blog of our own, you can post our thoughts on social, you can publish our poetry or writing. Our art, our music, our spoken word. Amplifying our voices is empowering and powerful. And you can help by joining any number of advocacy efforts. In this space, for those of us in the LGBTQ community, there are organizations like ARC, the Prisoner Correspondence Project, Black & Pink, and TGIJP, among others. Each of these is very much dependent on volunteers and their time. Also, information! We don’t have Google. You can be that for us, and give us the information we need to advocate for ourselves or to cite in our writing. And, gosh, so many other things. We’re so limited in here. You help us overcome those limits. You can be the voice that soothes us, or the ear that allows us to vent, rant, or cry. Mostly, just care. When your heart is really invested in understanding us and improving the quality of our lives, you’ll think of ways to show support that I’ve never dreamed of.
