Early in October, the statement slowly arrived in inboxes. The organization that oversees competitive climbing in the United States, USA Climbing, announced a new policy regarding transgender participation in the sport. And for trans athletes, it wasn’t good news, because let’s face it: It hardly ever is.
The USAC policy is fixated on hormone levels and the eligibility of transgender girls and transgender women, and the restrictions are severe. Like many other regulations on trans involvement in sports, the USAC policy is fixated on these two things. Any trans climbers using spironolactone, a feminizing hormone treatment, would need to apply for a Therapeutic Use Exemption (TUE) from the US Anti-Doping Agency, which requires a statement from the athlete describing their personal experiences and medical transition, as well as documentation from a therapist or psychiatrist, a comprehensive medical history including endocrinology, laboratory, and medical reports, as well as an ongoing treatment plan. This is essentially treating hormone replacement therapy as a form of doping. On top of that, trans femme athletes on the international track, ages 14 and up, must maintain certain testosterone levels for a year with testing at the 12-month, six-month, and six-week mark preceding competition, as well as throughout the competitive season.
With so many requirements, the policy seems less about climbing and more about jumping through hoops. And in practice, the dense and frankly confusing tangle of rules would end up barring many trans women—and especially trans girls—from competing altogether.
Trans girls and women are in an impossible double bind more than ever.
Imagine a transgender girl as young as 13 coming out publicly, finding a psychiatrist to diagnose her with gender dysphoria, continuing hormone replacement therapy or puberty blockers for at least a year to manage her testosterone levels, giving a sports organization her highly sensitive personal and medical information, getting regular, expensive testing, and also focusing on the craft of her sport while still, somehow having fun. And that’s if she lives in a state where minors are not permitted to receive trans health care, which is a significant disadvantage in the current era of widespread transphobia. More than 35 percent of trans youth between the ages of 13 and 17 reside in states that forbid gender-affirming care, according to the Human Rights Campaign. Trans girls and women are now in an impossible double bind more than ever.
But the climbing community—a diverse mix of competitive and recreational climbers, inclusive affinity groups, crunchy nature buffs, daredevils, and people of all ages drawn in by the physical and therapeutic potential of the sport—wasn’t going to accept the new rules without a fight.
“When the policy was announced, it came as a huge shock to myself and frankly, every member of my community that I know,” says Kristen Fiore, a trans climbing coach and guide. “It’s entirely heartbreaking, and I had a full meltdown of crying and being like ‘How has climbing, the sport that I love so much, the community that has held me so dearly, gone the way of many other sports that we’ve seen?'”
In fact, USAC is just one of the many sports organizations that are on the offensive against trans athletes. In 2022, World Swimming, a governing body for competitive swimming, implemented an effective ban for trans women. Track and field, too, announced last year that trans women were officially barred from women’s elite competitions. Trans women are no longer permitted in competitive chess, which highlights how illogical the justification for these bans is. Although many of these rules are being challenged (such as the decision that restricts trans swimmers’ eligibility in the Olympics), they still have an impact on everyday people’s lives. Over the last few years, there’s been a wave of anti-trans legislation seeking to bar trans youth, and especially trans girls, from K–12 sports in both schools and publicly-funded facilities. And anti-trans decision-makers are encouraged across all levels of society by policies like those implemented by USAC.
“We’re asking for trans writers, not trans spell-checkers”.
Within weeks of the October policy announcement, Fiore was in touch with other trans climbers across the country. Together, they established Trans Climbers Belong (TCB), a grassroots initiative working to combat the policy and foster greater transgender solidarity within the climbing community. “Our demand, which has never changed since day one, is that this policy needs to be rewritten with trans, intersex, and non-binary climbers,” says Fiore. “And by rewritten, I mean in the writer’s room, not just reviewing things. We’re asking for trans writers, not trans spell-checkers”.
Trans Climbers Belong published two open letters—one penned by Fiore herself in her capacity as a coach and one from parents of USAC athletes outlining their specific policy concerns and recommendations—as well as a letter of solidarity from organizers, gym owners, coaches, instructors, parents, athletes, and other industry members. Chief among their requests was making sure trans, intersex, and non-binary climbers got a seat at the table. An online petition, launched by Trans Climbers Belong, garnered over 11,000 signatures and other climbers took to social media to express their disappointment.
Crucially, TCB organizers also urged owners of gyms to end their support for USAC until their demands were satisfied. Since gyms host USAC competitions—often volunteering to do so and without making much, if any, money off of competitions—USAC is dependent on the goodwill and respect of gym owners.
To give gyms a rundown of the policy, its effects, and why a boycott is crucial, Fiore and other organizers created a master document. Every gym in the nation that is hosting or has hosted a competition was made a database, according to Fiore, and we sent them a mailer with information. It was extremely laborious and costly. But gyms responded. Soon, gyms began registering with USAC or speaking with them directly about their concerns.
In late November, just 10 days after Trans Climbers Belong launched their website, open letters, petition, and organizing demands, USAC announced a pause to their policy. The statement reads,” USA Climbing is putting off the implementation of the Transgender Athlete Participation Policy to reduce administrative complexities for all athletes. Athletes may continue to compete in a gender division that matches their identity. In an interview with Climbing magazine, USAC CEO Marc Norman acknowledged,” In hindsight, parts of the policy went too far”. TCB continued to apply pressure and in late January, gym owner Alice Kao resigned from the USAC board of directors, citing the organization’s handling of the transgender participation policy. (Cosmopolitan reached out to USAC, but the organization declined to comment). In the end, USAC was brought to the table by the combined efforts. On January 18, TCB announced on their Instagram that ongoing discussions between the two organizations were official.
The reality is that many people were made to listen as a result of the community’s support for trans climbers, who said,” No, this is not going to fly.” And I think that put pressure that USAC could not ignore”, says Fiore.
USAC’s very public, and relatively swift, backpedaling is certainly frustrating—why not just listen to trans athletes from the jump? It also serves as evidence of the efficacy of targeted community organizing. Trans Climbers Belong is developing a roadmap for athletes and their allies to respond to harmful policies and refocus the needs and respect of trans people as transphobia spreads to more and more sports.
First and foremost, Fiore says it was important to separate the issue at hand—a policy that harms trans people—from transphobic hand-wringing around “fairness” in sports. Fairness frequently serves as a whistle to transphobic political parties and politicians, especially given how racial and political views are rife on nearly all levels of American politics and life.
The argument goes that cis women and their athletic teams and divisions won’t be able to “keep up” with trans femme athletes physically (or, apparently, intellectually.) Not only is this insulting to all women athletes—cis and trans—it’s not based in science either. There is simply no direct or consistent research demonstrating that trans women have any sort of athletic advantage over their cis counterparts, according to experts and the research that is currently being conducted. Even the International Olympic Committee advises against policing an athlete’s bodies and genders and advises to do away with testosterone-based policies.
Clearly, an equal playing field only matters when it’s used to exclude marginalized athletes.
Moreover, in discussions around these restrictive policies, it’s imperative to ask: Who are we safeguarding fairness for? “It’s really important to understand that what is considered to be a fair versus an unfair advantage is entirely a social decision,” says Travers, professor of sociology at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada, and co-editor of the sports issue of the Transgender Studies Quarterly. Tall climbers, for example, may have a competitive advantage because they can reach a hold on the climbing wall more easily than their shorter counterparts. Meanwhile, people with smaller frames tend to dominate sports like gymnastics. So if fairness is so critical, why isn’t stature—or any number of physical variations amongst humans—as regulated as trans bodies? Clearly, an equal playing field only matters when it’s used to exclude marginalized athletes.
Growing up, Cat Runner, a professional climber, TCB organizer, and founder of Queer Climbers Network, said the sport was deeply therapeutic for him as a trans kid in Kentucky. He did Friday night kids climbing at his neighborhood gym and the rock wall at his neighborhood mall. By the time Runner’s senior year of high school was over, he had undergone top surgery, and his town had a brand-new, bouldering-only gym, giving him the opportunity to pursue the sport seriously. He claims that climbing is unique because you must communicate so strongly with your body in order to succeed, which can frequently cause a lot of people to argue and feel uncomfortable. It can also be very healing, and it was undoubtedly for me.
Many organizations justify their policies as “protecting” women’s sports, he says, but these organizations’ bad faith is exposed when they don’t go to bat for women when it comes to issues that actually harm them, like sexual assault, unequal pay, inaccessibility, and sexism. “Instead, let’s ask, ‘What changes need to happen to make this an environment where trans people can compete?'”
Fiore, too, is thinking along these lines. A good policy would include safeguards and education that can actually help trans climbers, can actually be a source of encouragement for trans climbers, and doesn’t just impose how we are supposed to live in your sport or in a cis space, she says.
Although TCB organizers are cautiously optimistic about collaborating with USAC, Fiore claims it is too early to determine how a new policy would look. You’ll get a better policy, she says, but if you can guarantee that trans climbers are actively involved in every step of the process.
The organizing efforts of TCB—as well as parents, coaches, gyms and beyond—is certainly cause for celebration. We can’t rely on governing bodies to take the lead, according to Runner. Instead, the most meaningful change will come from the community and climbers themselves. I think our sport is still young enough and that this sport’s community cares enough to cause real change. However, the road to equality for trans people is long, and it goes far beyond a single policy or sport. A major focus of this work is to overcome the barriers to trans inclusion at all levels of public life, as well as creating a culture in which trans joy and the right to play are a given.
“Climbing, for me, is a practice in reclaiming joy and pleasure,” says Lor Sabourin, a non-binary professional climber and trauma therapist. I enjoy climbing, the beautiful places it takes me, and the close relationships I have with those I partner with.
The reality is that the majority of climbers simply adore the sport; they never will be on the elite, international, or Olympic-level that the USAC policy has an impact on. But that’s not the point. Sabourin says part of climbing’s draw for many kids is that it’s an empowering, joyful space outside of other, more traditionally gendered sports (like cheerleading or football, for example).
Sabourin hopes the support from athletes, coaches, parents, and the entire community will show young trans climbers they really do belong. They said, “If a trans kiddo can see the collective caring that trans adult activists create, they can envision a future where they will be loved and held for who they are.”
