SMITHVILLE, Mo. Before his transgender daughter’s use of the female restroom at her Missouri high school resulted in her suspension. Before the harassment and the murder attempt. Before all that, Dusty Farr was — in his own words — “a full-on narcissist.”
Debry Farr speaks with his transgender daughter on Feb. 25 in a garden near Smithville, Mo. He says he didn’t care much if his 16-year-old child— and he boldly calls her that — told him she was an alien. Because she is dead.
By which he meant that he was willing to steer clear of LGBTQ+ people.
Today, though, after all, he says he didn’t care much if his 16-year-old daughter— and he boldly calls her that — told him she was an alien. Because she is dead.
“When it was my child, it simply flipped a switch. And it was like a wake-up,” says Farr, who is suing the Platte County School District on Kansas City’s outskirts.
Looking back, Farr believes his daughter, the youngest of five, began to feel out of place in her own body when she was only six or seven. But he didn’t notice it, even as they fished and camped together.
So when she was 12 years old, she began to withdraw from him and spend more time with the rest of the family. Before she came out, it lasted for a few years. He is now aware of how tough this was. “Growing up,” he says, “my kids knew where I stood.”
His wife, whom he described as less resistant, was on board quickly. Him, not so much.
Debry Farr speaks with his transgender daughter on Feb. 25 at a garden near Smithville, Mo. After his daughter was suspended for using the girls’ bathroom at the Missouri high school she attended, Farr is suing the Platte County School District.
“Given the way I was raised, a conservative fire-and-brimstone Baptist, LGBTQ is a sin, you’re going to hell. And these were things, unfortunately, that I said to my child,” Farr says. “I’m sort of ashamed to say that.”
They clashed, their marriage strained. In despair, he turned to God and then it hit him: “She’s a child.”
His daughter, who is referred to solely by her initials of R. F. in the lawsuit, was taken aback. He had been, she recalls, “to put it mildly, quite unbearable.” Then everything changed.
As she and her father played in a garden in February, she remembered feeling a sense of joy that was genuine. Her dad was with her.
Because she is unnamed in the lawsuit and to protect her from discrimination, she, her father, and her lawyers requested that her name remain anonymous.
She was diagnosed with gender dysphoria, or distress caused when gender identity doesn’t match a person’s assigned sex. She began using medications to delay menstruation, a common practice, after she had grown out her hair.
While visiting a park in February, Dusty Farr discusses his efforts to fight restroom restrictions on behalf of his transgender daughter. 25 with his daughter near Smithville, Mo. “Being a girl is hell,” he says. “Being a transgender youth is 10 kinds of heaven. She’s the brave one. I’m only her voice.”
Farr says that for the most part things have settled back in. But then came high school. “And,” Farr says, “whatever I did to her, school was 10 times worse.”
When the assistant principal pushed his daughter away, the 2021-22 school year had just begun. The principal stated in the lawsuit filed last year that students could use a gender-neutral or the sex-specific restroom of their birth. The district disputes that that occurred.
Another staff member, the lawsuit said, took it further and told her using the girls’ restroom was against the law. The district disputed that that occurred, as well.
The thing is, there isn’t a law — at least, not in Missouri.
While more than 10 states have passed laws regarding restroom usage, Missouri is not one of them. What Missouri has done is enact a moratorium on gender-affirming treatment. For restrooms, it leaves policy debate to local municipalities.
Farr used the term “asinine” to describe the whole flood of restrictions while also acknowledging that he likely would have supported them ten years ago. Kind of makes me a little resentful toward myself.”
Debry Farr speaks with his transgender daughter on Feb. 25 at a garden near Smithville, Mo.
He believed it was all a way of intimidating her. His daughter didn’t understand: “It kind of just made me feel hopeless in my education,” she recalls thinking.
The gender-neutral restroom was far from her classes and often had long lines, the lawsuit says. She, as a freshman, was missing class, and teachers were lecturing her. So she used the girls’ restroom. Verbal reprimands were followed by a one-day in-school suspension and then a two-day, out-of-school suspension, the lawsuit says.
“Your policy is dumb,” Farr recalled telling the school, which argued in its response to his lawsuit that his daughter was eating lunch in the girls’ restroom.
His daughter started using the boys’ restroom. One time, a student approached and told another student, “Maybe I could kill her,” the lawsuit said.
“Being a girl is hell. Being a transgender girl is 10 kinds of heaven. She’s the brave one. I’m only her voice.”
Farr called not only the school but also the ACLU, which is now even angrier. The district acknowledged the incident, saying a student made a “highly inappropriate” comment about murder and was disciplined. By then, Farr’s daughter was scared to go to school.
In a court filing, the district states that “there were multiple factors and circumstances in R. F.’s academic career, related to school, which may have contributed to emotional harm, depression and anxiety.”
Unfortunately, her parents got the district to agree to let her finish her sophomore year online. But before the switch was approved, she had to miss three days of classes. Normally an A and B student, she plummeted to D’s and F’s. Worse to Farr, his daughter was withdrawing.
He describes it as “a black rabbit hole of despair.” Half she attempted to kill herself and was hospitalized. Everything was kept secret, from butter knives to painkillers.
She made a brief return to start her junior year, hoping things would turn out better. She only had a few weeks before starting virtual classes.
Allie and Dusty Farr pet their dog in a garden in February. 25 with his transgender daughter near Smithville, Mo. Normally an A and B student, his daughter plummeted to D’s and F’s amid struggles at school. Worse to Farr, his daughter was withdrawing, her spirit and fight fading.
At semester’s end, Farr and his family moved out of the district. She transferred to an online school after her previous experience with restroom access caused a lot of turmoil in her new class. When she turned 16 the following spring, Farr and his wife agreed to let her drop out.
She is currently undergoing hormone replacement therapy and is considering enrolling in an alternative high school program. She’d like to attend college one day, and study philosophy, maybe law.
Sometimes Farr’s daughter yells at him, and he admits he misses the fiery approach. That passion and fight had faded.
“Being a girl is hell,” he says. “Being a transgender girl is 10 kinds of heaven. She’s the brave one. I’m only her voice.”
He believes he has matured enough to take on this role, hoping that being her voice will help other parents and children avoid the hardships his family endured. He believes people will listen when he raises alarms because of where he’s come from. Sometimes.
“It’s about like a resurrection,” he says of his transformation. “There’s the dying me. And then there’s the new me.”
Here’s how to support transgender children, according to transgender teens
Imagine your typical day as a parent. For nine months out of the year, you wake up and get your children ready for school in the same routine way. You make breakfast, pack lunches, and nag at least four times to ensure they brush their teeth, wash their face, and comb their hair before they leave.
You experience a familiar sense of dread as the kids leave the house and head out into the world, the feeling you get every time they leave your sight, a feeling that only subsides when they return home. Respondents to a survey of 2,000 families conducted by OnePoll in 2018 spent an average of 37 days a month worrying about their child or children, and 59% of them experienced sleep loss as a result.
According to the Pew Research Center, concerns about children’s mental health and bullying ranked among the top parental concerns in 2023. But one community is particularly vulnerable to these challenges: transgender children. By speaking to transgender teens and using resources from The Trevor Project, a nonprofit dedicated to LGBTQ+ youth suicide prevention and mental health, Stacker examined how families and individuals can best support transgender kids in their lives.
It can be life or death to support transgender individuals
28,000 people aged 13 to 24 who identified as LGBTQ+ were surveyed in a 2023 study by The Trevor Project. The results shed light on the grim reality of the mental health of young transgender and gender nonconforming individuals: Between 48% and 56% of transgender and nonbinary youth contemplated suicide in the past year, levels that far exceed their cisgender counterparts.
The challenges transgender children face are numerous: high rates of online and in-person bullying; a flood of anti-trans bills making their way through state and local legislatures; inflammatory anti-trans rhetoric pushed by right-wing media; increased risk of physical and sexual assault from peers, family, and strangers; high levels of anxiety and depression, along with a lack of access to mental and medical care. The challenges facing trans kids seem both daunting and insurmountable at times.
Embedded within The Trevor Project’s research, however, is a silver lining. When those surveyed came from a home with love, support, and affirmation of their identities, they reported lower levels of suicidal ideation. Unfortunately, it seems easier said than done to create a supportive environment; according to the survey, only 35% of respondents reported having a supportive home.
What a lack of support for transgender children looks like, in the eyes of transgender youth
Felix Alaniz, a transgender youth, describes his experience as feeling like “being put under a spotlight you can’t turn off” a spotlight that can be “deadly” due to the widespread transphobia that surrounds him.
For the past two decades, Alaniz has served as the Project Lead for Cap the Gaps, a nonprofit organization in Auburn, California, which aims to address the lack of resources and care for young people within the mental health care system, particularly LGBTQ+ youth. While he may look young for a position like this, his real-world experience has undoubtedly earned him his position.
After surviving a nearly fatal suicide attempt at the age of 10, Alaniz was forced to come out to his family and school. In an interview with Stacker, Alaniz described it as “one of the most horrific experiences of my life,” and he now dedicates his time to teaching anyone who will listen how to support transgender children, especially when it comes to how families can support their kids.
When Alaniz’s friend K, a name he requested to use for privacy reasons, came out to his family at the age of 15, he received a mixed response from his parents: While his mother was supportive, his stepfather had the opposite reaction.
“He’s never been able to accept it or wrap his brain around it, and no matter what we’ve tried, it doesn’t work. Talking, therapy, yelling, and screaming,” K told Stacker in an interview. “If it weren’t for my mom and being able to rely on her, I’m sure things would be a lot harder. But to be honest, it’s hard as f*** having one love you and one hate you.”
K, who turned 18 earlier this year, continues to struggle to understand his stepfather’s response. “It’s so unfair to bring a child into this world or take responsibility for a kid and then abandon them just because you don’t understand them anymore,” he said.
Alaniz had a similar experience: While his mother was supportive from the get-go, his grandparents were not, which he said deeply affected his day-to-day mental health.
What, in the eyes of trans youth, it looks like to support them
Though Alaniz’s mom has consistently been in his corner, that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had plenty to learn along the way. “I used to get called ‘she’ all the time after I first came out because I had a long emo side cut,” Alaniz said. My mom once thought that cutting my hair was as simple as cutting my hair. She didn’t realize that there are people who won’t let trans people live in peace whether I’m completely bald or have hair like Rapunzel. It’s just never that simple.”
Parents often have a tough time understanding the smaller things, he said.
The recent survey from The Trevor Project supports the idea that it’s the little things that matter. Small steps and consistency seem to be key, from taking the time to learn about gender identity and transgender people to ensuring you use your child’s chosen name and pronouns at home.
In the research brief for The Trevor Project’s 2022 report, five frequently cited positive behaviors parents or caregivers of trans youth can take include being warm and affectionate to their friends or partners; speaking respectfully to them about their gender identity; supporting their personal gender expression; using their name and pronouns correctly; and becoming knowledgeable about LGBTQ issues and people.
K’s mother has helped him get by, and he is now able to live on his own. “One thing I do know is that a lot of kids aren’t so lucky. Some of us can tell the difference between life and death with one parent by our side,” he said. “I’m so grateful my mom took the time to try,” she said. To make it understandable to her. That meant so much.”
Alaniz said he is aware of where parents are coming from when questioned about their transgender children’s gender expression or clothing. You have to let your child go through the phases, I know it can be difficult. Let them experiment. Let them figure it out, even if it annoys you to have to switch genders or names every few months until it sticks, he said.
Ultimately, the most important lesson for parents to remember is to love their transgender children.
“I knew my mom was trying, even when she got things wrong, because she loved me and she didn’t give up,” Alaniz said. You will all figure it out together if you love your child more than you love your own prejudices or lack of education, but it takes time. Love your transgender child. Support your transgender child. Your transgender child needs you. That’s it.”
Check out The Trevor Project’s website for more information on how to support trans youth as well as mental and medical resources. TTP also has a 24/7 crisis hotline that transgender youth and their families can call for support: 1-866-488-7386.
Call the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 9-8-8 if you or someone you know is going through a mental health crisis or considering suicide.
Story editing by Eliza Siegel. Additional editing by Jaimie Etkin. Copy editing by Tim Bruns.
