Guest op-ed: Utah leaders’ hostility to trans people has real consequences

Kevin Lundell

“Some days I feel like I’m gonna fight like hell; other days I’m suicidal and don’t know how to give my kid hope to also stay alive; and other days I just want to move.” Those are the exasperated words of a transgender child’s mother. She sent me this message after the Utah State Legislature passed H.B. 257 — a law that will bar transgender Utahns from using bathrooms and locker rooms in government buildings, including public schools.

She continued, “I look at the life my child has to look forward to and it fills me with despair. No matter how much I scream that my child did not pick this; it does not matter. I’m tired of this fight; I’m tired of this rollercoaster.” For the third year in a row, the state has taken direct aim at her son’s existence, this time going after one of the most basic (if mundane) human needs: going to the bathroom.

When Sen. McCay presented the final draft of the bill, he quoted nearly a dozen news stories of men entering women’s bathrooms and assaulting them. Sounding very indignant, McCay said, “I have four daughters. I’m done with it.” His Republican colleague Sen. Thatcher responded very sympathetically to those who have been victims of sexual assault and recounted that he too is a survivor of a “violent childhood sexual assault.” He then asked a very pointed question: “Out of all of the sexual assaults that you documented, were any of the cases perpetrated by a transgender individual?” The answer, of course, was no.

In one single question, Sen. Thatcher was able to undermine the entire purported reason for the bill. He destroyed any notion that this legislation is anything but an onerous product of bigotry aimed at perpetuating an age-old trope that transgender people are dangerous and must be kept separate from their cisgender counterparts. Today’s H.B. 257 is yesterday’s segregated lunch counters and drinking fountains, aimed at keeping people with a different lived experience from joining them at the front of the bus.

Sen. Thatcher’s pointed question distilled the argument down to its very core and exposed everyone who intended to vote for the bill as fear-mongering zealots. President of the Senate Stuart Adams, feeling exposed, began to panic. “I don’t see how this pertains to the bill,” he said. In a textbook display of gaslighting, President Adams allowed everyone in the room to believe that they didn’t actually have to think about the repercussions of Sen. Thatcher’s question or examine the premise of the bill at all. Clearly, the deliberations over this bill were nothing more than a charade aimed at doing the bidding of the most extreme factions of the “Grand Old Party.” Just days later, Gov. Cox signed the bill into law without hesitation.

My friend’s message continues, “Tears have been flowing for over a week. I feel like every January is PTSD triggering because somehow they (the Legislature) come up with a new way to harm people like my son.”

Gov. Cox, your signature has real consequences. It has caused real pain for people like my friend and her son. And yet you have the gall to continue your national campaign calling on all Americans to “disagree better.” No, Gov. Cox. We won’t “disagree better.” We will call out bigotry when we see it. We will fight hate in all its forms and by any and all nonviolent means necessary. Because the lives of our transgender friends depend on hearing and seeing opposition and resistance to the hate they hear and the discrimination they experience. To those impacted by H.B. 257, the governor and Legislature do not speak for all your neighbors. We love you and need you here.


Kevin Lundell is the former vice chair of the Ogden City Diversity Commission. He is an Ogden resident, community advocate, doctor of chiropractic, and owner of Lundell Chiropractic and Roy Community Fitness.