Reflections on USian Fascism on the day of the SCOTUS decision about Trans Sports, June 30, 2026

#ThingsYouCantUnsay #DangerousAir #Fascism #USPol

Four days ago, I heard word circulating in the San Francisco trans community that the cops arrested people at the Trans March for spray-painting surveillance cameras.

Three nights ago, I heard from a friend that a Dyke March afterparty was broken up by cops with batons out. I slept fitfully, fear in my shoulders, in my mood, and in my silence, periodically checking my phone for word that my friend was okay, that she got off the streets safely. I held my partner as I trembled, knowing that queer people like us were in danger from the cops only a short distance from where I was.

Two days ago, I got the news that the cops arrested twenty people at that afterparty.

Today, in the minutia of the majority and minority opinions of the Supreme Court’s decision on trans athletes in sports, all justices unanimously ruled that Title IX anti-discrimination protections did not apply to trans people.

Last year during Pride month, I wrote that I worried about a continuation of the forms of oppression queer people already face. Those fears are manifest.

Cameras track us. Cops imprison us. Justices revoke our rights. The world turns, another day dawns, and it becomes increasingly clear that the defeat of this particular USian fascist regime will come too late to avert the stochastic murder of many trans people.

What do I say? To what force do I appeal for rescue? The law? The institutions of the law are actively hostile. The legislature? They lack the will. Robin Hood is absent. Zoro’s mask hangs on a peg.

Cis folks, had I the power, I would sacrifice you by the hundreds to save trans lives - does that bother you? I learned from your callous example; systems designed and administered by cis people hurt trans people consistently.

But I don’t. All I have are my words and my presence.

So I talk. I encourage communication and community among trans people. I try to get cishet people to see the atrocities being enacted on trans and queer people. I share my joy to inspire, and my pain to offer the clarity of shared experience.

I hope to leave my trans and queer community tighter knit, with memories of my joy. And I hope to leave cishet people with the inspiration of how I live my life authentically, and with the growing sense that maybe they should have headed my warnings.

I mourn that my thoughts turn already to my legacy.