Stop using young, transgender Utahns as political pawns

I wasn’t aware of Utah’s dominant political ideology when I came out as transgender in 2019. I was a kid who had just come out to my family as a boy, and my interests weren’t in the upcoming election or the future of trans rights. If I could go back in time and tell that young boy to get more involved in his state’s politics, I would. Maybe it would have prepared him for the next five years of false promises, dishonest legislative sessions, and terrifying elections.

My first encounter with trans rights came in 2022 with the introduction of HB11. In the coming months, I wanted to participate in school-sanctioned sports, but I was afraid it would be impossible. I felt abandoned by legislators who tried to limit such a small number of teenage athletes, but I felt safe with Governor Spencer Cox, who was willing to fight for us and veto legislation that would have banned transgender girls from participating in high school sports. Governor Cox had said it would be okay. As a young, naive Utahn who had not yet been abandoned by our politicians, I believed this empty promise.

Halfway through Governor Cox’s term, the Utah legislature took on my health care. I spent dozens of hours attending legislative hearings with my family. A year after I began hormone replacement therapy, a decision made by myself, my parents, and my doctors, Governor Cox signed SB16, a bill that indefinitely banned minors from beginning gender-affirming treatments. Although I was “grandfathered” and did not have to stop my treatment immediately, I knew that somewhere in the state of Utah, there was a child who was entering puberty the wrong way, just like I was, and was not getting the medical care he or she needed.

Anti-trans laws had taken away my childhood innocence. That was the moment I lost faith in the ability of Utah’s elected leaders to protect me. Governor Cox had gone back on his promise; it was no longer okay.

By the 2024 legislative session, I could no longer bear to enter the Utah Capitol. I was too tired to fight and too exhausted to listen. HB257, a transgender bathroom ban, was introduced almost immediately. It moved quickly through the legislature and landed on Governor Cox’s desk. I had never seen such urgency to pass a bill that would separate transgender students, adults, and children. I had not realized that people could discriminate so willingly. Despite his empty promises of previous anti-trans bills that were signed into law, I somehow still had faith in our governor. I still believed he could do the right thing. With 10 days to consider signing the bill, Governor Cox took only one day. His signature hurt the very people he had once called himself an ally to.

Where was the Governor Cox who cited transgender suicide statistics when he vetoed HB11? Where was the Governor Cox who said he would fight for me? Where was the Governor Cox who called for unity?

Governor Cox has lost himself to gain political points based on re-election. He is no longer the Utah leader who gave a heartfelt speech about the victims of the 2016 Pulse nightclub shooting. Instead, he is one of many across the country who will use so-called “conservative values” to gain cheap political points at the expense of real people. He has replaced values ​​with votes.

Restricting transgender rights should not strengthen your political campaign. No discrimination should. Transgender issues have never been about politics, they are simply human rights.

After winning the Republican primary, Cox is one step closer to another four years in office, but at the expense of transgender people in Utah. I trusted Governor Cox in 2022 when he was willing to protect me. Now I feel like I’m nothing more than a tool for his campaign.

I don’t need Governor Cox to go back to a time when he put his compassion for transgender youth above his political party. I’m not asking for an apology. I just need my life back. I’m a friend, a student, an athlete, a son, and a brother — but I’m just a person. I’m a person, not a pawn. Transgender youth are not political gimmicks, we’re so much more than that.

Leo Pickron (he/him) is an intern at Alliance for a Better Utah and is a junior in high school in Salt Lake City.

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