KATHERINE WALTER dot COM

A MidWestern transgender woman trying to survive in the real life.

Hunger by Choice: The SNAP Crisis No One Needed

Volunteers prepare food packages at a local distribution center as millions face uncertainty over SNAP benefits amid the ongoing government shutdown. (Image generated by ChatGPT using DALL·E, 2025.)

I write this as someone who served for twelve years as a Senior Program Specialist for the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) at the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA). During my time with the agency, I witnessed firsthand how critical the program is to millions of American families. The system depends on a consistent flow of federal funds, and when that flow is interrupted—as it will be tomorrow—the consequences are devastating.

Beginning November 1, SNAP benefits are set to lapse due to the ongoing federal government shutdown. The USDA announced that it will not issue new benefits because regular appropriations have not been passed for fiscal year 2026 (Associated Press, 2025). The department has stated that it cannot legally draw from the contingency fund to cover regular benefits, even though those funds exist for emergencies (Reuters, 2025).

The USDA maintains an emergency or contingency fund of approximately $5 to $6 billion. That money was created to ensure that families would not go hungry during funding lapses or disasters. Experts argue that the USDA has both the legal authority and the moral obligation to tap this fund (Center for American Progress, 2019). From my years working within the program, I know that withholding this funding is not a technical necessity—it is a political decision.

More than 42 million Americans depend on SNAP each month (Center for American Progress, 2019). If those benefits stop, food insecurity will spike immediately. Local food banks will be overwhelmed, and low-income families will struggle to put meals on the table. The refusal to release the contingency funds ensures that millions will suffer unnecessarily.

In an October 24 memo, the USDA stated that “SNAP contingency funds are only available to supplement regular monthly benefits when amounts have been appropriated for, but are insufficient to cover, benefits” and that “the contingency fund is not available to support FY 2026 regular benefits, because the appropriation for regular benefits no longer exists” (Reuters, 2025, para. 4). However, this interpretation contradicts previous USDA practices. In past shutdowns, the department used available reserves to issue benefits, recognizing the essential nature of the program (Center for American Progress, 2019).

Republican lawmakers have claimed that the shutdown—and the resulting SNAP lapse—is the fault of Democrats for refusing to pass appropriations or a continuing resolution. They argue that accessing contingency funds would be “legally unavailable” or would create administrative chaos (Politico, 2025). These talking points are misleading. The contingency fund is legally available under the Food and Nutrition Act, and the infrastructure for benefit issuance remains intact (Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, 2025). The administration’s decision not to use the funds is political, not procedural.

From my professional experience, I can say that the USDA’s current position is indefensible. SNAP’s contingency fund exists precisely to prevent hunger during political gridlock. To deny families access to food because of an interpretation of funding language is a dereliction of duty. Past administrations, regardless of party, have prioritized feeding Americans even during shutdowns. That precedent should not end now.

By this weekend, millions of Americans will begin to feel the impact. Food banks will face long lines. States will scramble for stopgap solutions. Children, seniors, and people with disabilities will suddenly find themselves without the support they have come to rely on. The suffering that will follow is not inevitable—it is a choice. The federal government must either pass funding immediately or authorize the release of contingency funds to keep SNAP operational.

SNAP benefits should not be held hostage to political posturing. This program is one of the most effective anti-poverty tools the nation has ever created. The machinery to deliver aid is ready—the only missing element is political will. The American people deserve better.

References

Associated Press. (2025, October 30). USDA says SNAP benefits to lapse as shutdown drags on. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/8a52a63b26a707ea676962226b090bb1

Center for American Progress. (2019, January 18). The Trump administration has the power and legal obligation to pay SNAP benefits during the shutdown. https://www.americanprogress.org/article/the-trump-administration-has-the-power-and-legal-obligation-to-pay-snap-benefits-during-the-shutdown

Center on Budget and Policy Priorities. (2025, October 27). SNAP’s contingency reserve is available for regular SNAP benefits as USDA weighs options. https://www.cbpp.org/research/food-assistance/snaps-contingency-reserve-is-available-for-regular-snap-benefits-as-usda

Politico. (2025, October 30). Trump administration faces lawsuit over decision to halt food aid during shutdown. https://www.politico.com/news/2025/10/30/trump-administration-snap-food-aid-lawsuit-shutdown-00630133

Reuters. (2025, October 24). USDA memo says it will not use emergency funds for November food benefits. Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/usda-memo-says-it-will-not-use-emergency-funds-november-food-benefits-2025-10-24

The Problem with “Owning the Libs”

Illustration contrasting “own the libs” cruelty with progressive compassion. (Image generated by ChatGPT, 2025)

In recent years, the phrase “own the libs” has become a rallying cry for many conservatives. At first glance, it might seem like harmless political banter—a way to laugh at the other side. But taken seriously, this mindset reveals something troubling about how politics is being practiced in the United States. It shows a shift away from solving problems and toward something much darker: treating politics as a game where the goal is to make other people suffer.

The idea of owning the libs is not about making life better for ordinary people. Instead, it’s about celebrating when someone else is angry, humiliated, or hurt. Passing laws that restrict healthcare, rolling back rights for LGBTQ+ people, or undermining voting access aren’t framed as solutions to real problems. They are framed as victories precisely because they upset progressives. Cruelty itself becomes the goal.

But politics should not be about harming others—it should be about helping people. That is the central difference between the conservative “own the libs” mindset and progressive politics. Progressives, at their best, focus on policies that improve people’s lives: expanding access to healthcare, making schools stronger, reducing poverty, and protecting the freedom to live authentically. The success of progressive politics is measured in lives improved, not tears shed by political opponents.

This difference matters because it points to two fundamentally different visions for our society. One vision treats politics as a contest of domination, where the worth of an idea lies in how much it angers “the other side.” The other vision treats politics as a tool for compassion, where the worth of an idea lies in how much it improves the lives of our neighbors.

Of course, no political movement is perfect. Progressives sometimes stumble, and not every policy works out as intended. But there is an important moral distinction between trying to help people and trying to hurt them. If our politics is driven by spite, we will end up with policies that deepen division and suffering. If our politics is driven by empathy, we have at least a chance at building a society that is fairer, freer, and more humane.

The question is not whether liberals or conservatives “win.” The real question is: do we want our politics to be about cruelty—or about compassion?

My Comic Book Collection: From Hulk TV Nights to Slabbed Treasures

My life with comics began when I was about ten years old, sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of the television. Each week, I watched Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno in The Incredible Hulk. That show didn’t just entertain me — it pulled me into the Marvel Universe and sparked a passion that would shape the way I experienced stories, heroes, and even the act of collecting itself.

Soon, I was chasing down comics wherever I could find them. Spinner racks in corner stores. Back issue bins at flea markets. Those early days weren’t about grades, conditions, or values — they were about wonder. Hulk smashing across the page, Spider-Man swinging through New York, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo brought to life in Marvel’s Star Wars adaptation.

A Collection in Phases

My comic book journey, like that of many collectors, has unfolded in distinct phases, each one shaping my relationship with the medium in different ways. It began with what I like to call the childhood spark. In those early years, I built up a core collection that included The Incredible Hulk, The Amazing Spider-Man, Web of Spider-Man, and Marvel’s original run of Star Wars. These titles were my entry points into the world of comics, and they opened a door to something far bigger than myself. Each issue felt like a passport to new adventures, making me feel as though I belonged to a vast universe of heroes, villains, and stories that mattered.

As I grew older, however, I entered the pause. When I reached college, collecting naturally slipped into the background. My longboxes traveled with me, but they became more like sealed time capsules than active companions. I still cared deeply about comics, but the demands of classes, work, and adult responsibilities took precedence. The passion didn’t disappear — it simply went dormant, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

That moment came years later with the return. When She-Hulk: Attorney at Law debuted, it reignited my love for comics in a way I hadn’t expected. Watching Jennifer Walters come to life on screen reminded me of everything I had first loved about the medium: the humor, the energy, the empowerment, and the creativity. It was as though the ember from my childhood spark was suddenly fanned into flame again. That was when I began cataloging my collection, diving back into long-forgotten boxes, and reconnecting with stories that had once defined my imagination. At the same time, I started collecting new issues, building a bridge between my past and present as a reader and a collector.

Cataloging Thousands of Issues

Today, I’m in the middle of a massive cataloging project. So far, I’ve only worked through part of my collection, and there are still about 2,500 comics waiting for their turn. It’s slow work, but it’s rewarding. Each time I log an issue, I’m not just recording a number and grade — I’m revisiting the excitement of when I first bought it.

Here are a few highlights from what I’ve cataloged so far:

  • The Amazing Spider-Man, Vol. 1 — My run stretches from the late 1960s right through the early 1990s, including classics like Kraven’s Last Hunt (#293–294), “Gang War,” “Invasion of the Spider-Slayers,” and Venom’s first full appearance in Amazing Spider-Man #300 — slabbed at 9.6 NM+.
  • Web of Spider-Man, Vol. 1 — Beginning with the 1985 debut, these issues carry my earliest childhood memories of collecting. They were among the first series I ever chased month to month.
  • Star Wars, Vol. 1 (Marvel, 1977) — I once owned a slabbed copy of Star Wars #42 (part of the Empire Strikes Back adaptation), which I sold not long ago for $255. Letting it go wasn’t easy, but my connection to Star Wars has shifted since my youth. Even so, those early Marvel runs remain important markers in my journey.
  • The Punisher, Vol. 1 (1986) — My collection includes Circle of Blood #1 slabbed at 9.0 and the remaining issues of the mini-series in raw condition. This was a bold and gritty corner of Marvel in the ’80s, and having it preserved in slabbed form makes it one of my prized pieces.
  • She-Hulk — My She-Hulk boxes are some of my most meaningful. I’ve got The Savage She-Hulk #1 slabbed at 9.8, The Sensational She-Hulk run including milestone issues like #50, and the modern Sensational She-Hulk Vol. 2 variants that mark my return to active collecting.
  • Red Sonja — Though I came to Sonja later, she has become one of my top characters to collect. My catalog spans her classic Marvel appearances and extends through Dynamite’s modern series, such as Red Sonja: Empire of the Damned and Red Sonja Attacks Mars.
  • The Avengers and X-Men — I’ve built up strong late ’80s and early ’90s runs of The Avengers and Uncanny X-Men, including crossover arcs like “Inferno” and “The Collection Obsession.”
  • Infinity Saga Classics — Complete runs of Infinity Gauntlet and Infinity War anchor my cosmic shelf, now sitting alongside new 2025 issues of Infinity Watch.

Slabbed Gems

One of the most rewarding parts of coming back to collecting has been building up a slabbed collection. These graded books aren’t just investments — they are touchstones, carrying both comic book history and my own personal story as a fan. Each slabbed issue is a reminder of why I fell in love with comics in the first place and why I continue to collect today.

Amazing Spider-Man #300 (9.6 NM+) is the crown jewel of my Spider-Man run, marking Venom’s first full appearance. It’s one of the most iconic issues of the late ’80s, and having it slabbed makes it a centerpiece of my collection.

Savage She-Hulk #1 (9.8 NM/M) represents the debut of Jennifer Walters, and it has special meaning for me since She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is what reignited my passion for collecting. Seeing this book preserved in perfect condition feels like a full-circle moment.

Punisher #1 (1986, Circle of Blood) (9.0 VF/NM) kicks off Frank Castle’s most defining storyline. This slab embodies Marvel’s darker shift during the ’80s and stands as one of the books that reshaped how readers viewed the antihero.

Alpha Flight #106 (9.8 NM/M) is more than just a superhero story — it’s a landmark issue in Marvel history, one of the first to spotlight LGBTQ+ representation in mainstream comics. Owning it in slabbed condition feels like honoring a turning point in the medium.

Star Trek: The Next Generation Vol. 2 #1 (9.2 NM–) is another highlight. Published in 1989, it captured the energy of The Next Generation at its cultural peak, and having it slabbed is like holding a piece of both comic and television history. For me, it blends two lifelong fandoms — comics and Star Trek — into one preserved artifact.

Star Wars #2 (1977, 5.5 Fine–) and Star Wars #68 (1983, 7.0 Fine/VF) are personal treasures because they take me back to my earliest days as a collector. Even though I recently sold my slabbed copy of Star Wars #42, which was bittersweet, I still hold onto these as reminders of how central Star Wars once was to my childhood collecting years.

Each slabbed comic is more than a grade on a label — it’s a milestone in my journey. Together, they form the cornerstones of my collection, anchoring my longboxes full of raw issues with books that embody both comic book history and deeply personal meaning.

The Ebb and Flow of Fandom

Parting with my slabbed copy of Star Wars #42 was a moment that reminded me just how personal collecting really is. That issue, tied to The Empire Strikes Back, had been with me for years, and while I was able to sell it for $255, the decision wasn’t just about the money. It was about acknowledging how my relationship with Star Wars has changed since my youth. When I was younger, those comics felt like the center of the universe — every new issue was a direct extension of the films I loved. Over time, though, my passion for the galaxy far, far away shifted, and I realized that holding on to certain books didn’t carry the same emotional weight they once did. Letting it go was difficult, but it also reaffirmed what really drives my collecting: not the dollar value or rarity of a book, but its resonance in my own life.

That sense of resonance is what guides me now. The comics I keep close are the ones that continue to matter — whether they tap into nostalgia, reflect meaningful representation, or deliver a story arc that struck me at just the right moment. It’s not about filling boxes with every issue ever printed, but about curating a collection that tells my story through theirs.

That’s why my collection today feels like a living timeline. It bridges past and present in a way that’s almost tangible. I can hold Spawn #1 (1992), a relic of the early ’90s boom that defined so much of my teenage years, in one hand, and a brand-new Spider-Verse vs. Venomverse (2025) in the other, fresh off the shelves. I can revisit the cosmic battles of Infinity Gauntlet from 1991, reliving the awe I felt the first time Thanos snapped his fingers, while also keeping up with the latest saga of Immortal Thor, a reminder that the Marvel Universe is still evolving and surprising me after all these years. Each pairing — old and new, nostalgic and current — shows me that comics aren’t just static collectibles. They are milestones, markers in the journey of my own life, stories that have grown and changed right alongside me.

Looking Forward

With thousands of comics still waiting to be cataloged, my collection is far from fully documented. But that’s part of the fun. Each longbox I open is a journey back through time — to my childhood excitement, to my college pause, to my modern revival.

Collecting comics has always been more than just a hobby. It’s a lifelong conversation with stories, characters, and the kid in me who once sat wide-eyed watching The Incredible Hulk. That kid is still here — only now, she has slabbed treasures, longboxes full of history, and a future of new issues still to collect.

Trump’s Threat to Militarize Chicago: An Authoritarian Overreach

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS – AUGUST 25: Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker speaks to the press while on board a water taxi passing Trump Tower on the Chicago River on August 25, 2025 in Chicago, Illinois. Pritzker spoke about about President Donald Trump’s plan to send National Guard troops into Chicago. Recent reports have stated that Trump plans to deploy troops to the city as early as next month. (Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images)

In August 2025, President Donald Trump once again threatened to use military force in a major American city—this time Chicago. In remarks to reporters, he escalated his rhetoric by calling Chicago “a disaster” and “a killing field,” arguing that the city required federal intervention to restore order (Politico, 2025). While presented as a public safety measure, this plan has little to do with crime reduction and much more to do with political theater. By targeting Democratic-led cities like Chicago, Trump is reinforcing his strongman image while undermining constitutional principles of local governance. His approach reflects a dangerous authoritarian drift, particularly given his earlier actions in Washington, D.C.

Chicago has become a focal point of Trump’s political attacks. Reports indicate that his administration has explored not only the deployment of the National Guard, but also using ICE agents with potential operations staged out of Naval Station Great Lakes (Nakashima & Arkin, 2025). Local officials, however, have responded with strong resistance. Governor J.B. Pritzker and Mayor Brandon Johnson have emphasized that the President lacks unilateral authority to deploy troops in Illinois, and they are preparing legal strategies to prevent such action. Advocacy groups in Chicago have also begun organizing both legal and grassroots resistance, arguing that the introduction of federal troops would erode community trust and criminalize immigrant populations already under strain (Klayman & Shepardson, 2025).

At the heart of this conflict lies a legal and constitutional dilemma. The military is not designed to perform law enforcement duties. Under the Posse Comitatus Act, federal military forces are largely prohibited from engaging in domestic policing. Even the National Guard, which can support state governments in emergencies, is meant to operate under state—not federal—control unless extraordinary conditions justify nationalization. For Trump to act, he would likely invoke the Insurrection Act, a rarely used measure intended for situations of open rebellion or insurrection. Yet Chicago is not in rebellion; in fact, violent crime in the city has dropped significantly in recent years, with homicides falling by more than 50 percent since 2021 (Klayman & Shepardson, 2025). Governor Pritzker has rightly argued that the Guard is not needed in Chicago, describing Trump’s claim of a crime crisis as exaggerated and politically opportunistic (Associated Press, 2025b).

This political opportunism is perhaps the most telling aspect of the proposed deployment. Trump has not threatened to send troops to conservative cities facing crime problems; instead, his threats have focused squarely on Democratic-led cities such as Chicago, Baltimore, and Los Angeles. Analysts see this pattern as a deliberate political strategy aimed at energizing his base by portraying “blue cities” as out of control and hostile to law and order. In reality, these deployments are less about public safety and more about consolidating power and projecting an authoritarian style of governance (Associated Press, 2025a).

The events in Washington, D.C. earlier in August provide a striking precedent. Trump declared a “crime emergency” in the District despite evidence that crime was at a thirty-year low. He then assumed control over the Metropolitan Police Department, deployed the D.C. National Guard, and placed federal law enforcement agencies in charge of local operations (Douglas, 2025). The move was widely criticized as unconstitutional, with the D.C. Attorney General filing legal challenges and polls showing overwhelming local opposition. Scholars such as Lawrence Douglas (2025) have noted that these actions were not responses to genuine crises but rather examples of governance by political spectacle, in which the appearance of strength matters more than the rule of law.

Chicago now finds itself in danger of becoming the next stage for this spectacle. The city has made progress in reducing violence through community-based initiatives, investments in social programs, and reimagined policing strategies. Introducing federal troops threatens to undo these gains, potentially sparking unrest rather than restoring order. More troublingly, it normalizes the use of military force in domestic political conflicts, setting a precedent that undermines democratic governance at both the local and national level.

Ultimately, Trump’s threat to militarize Chicago represents an abuse of power. It is not a measured response to a public safety crisis, but a political maneuver designed to intimidate Democratic strongholds and consolidate executive authority. The military is not trained for law enforcement, nor is it legally authorized to serve as a domestic police force under ordinary conditions. By framing his actions as necessary to restore order, Trump is masking authoritarian tactics in the language of public safety. If unchallenged, this strategy risks eroding the democratic foundations of American governance and moving the nation closer to a model of executive domination rather than shared power.

In moments such as this, vigilance is essential. The people of Chicago—and Americans more broadly—must recognize that the debate is not truly about crime but about power. Allowing a president to deploy troops for political theater undermines both constitutional law and democratic norms. Trump’s threat to send the military into Chicago should be understood for what it is: an authoritarian abuse of power that endangers not just one city, but the principles of democracy itself.

References

Associated Press. (2025a, August 27). Democratic governors look to derail Trump’s plan to send National Guard to Chicago and other cities. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/988a659d9d13deb1e7a8f52cf47efef8

Associated Press. (2025b, August 25). Guard not needed in Chicago, Pritzker tells AP during tour of city to counter Trump’s crime claims. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/2023e25445c45a3f0f4d3513e8eb2ac4

Douglas, L. (2025, August 27). Trump’s militarization of the DC police was just an opening salvo. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/aug/27/january-6-trump-chicago-military

Klayman, B., & Shepardson, D. (2025, August 28). In Chicago, locals prepare for Trump’s possible deployment of National Guard. Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/chicago-locals-prepare-trumps-possible-deployment-national-guard-2025-08-28

Nakashima, E., & Arkin, D. (2025, August 27). ICE asks for access to Chicago-area Navy base to assist operations. The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2025/08/27/trump-chicago-ice-military

Politico. (2025, August 25). Trump reiterates threat to send National Guard to Chicago. Politico. https://www.politico.com/news/2025/08/25/trump-national-guard-chicago-00523253 

OPM Ends Gender-Affirming Care in 2026

The recent announcement from the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) that gender-affirming health care will be excluded from the Federal Employees Health Benefits (FEHB) and Postal Service Health Benefits (PSHB) programs beginning in 2026 represents a profound step backward in civil rights and health equity. Under this directive, chemical and surgical interventions for gender transition will no longer be covered, though counseling for gender dysphoria must remain available. Insurance carriers are required to develop exceptions processes for individuals currently undergoing such care, yet the parameters of those processes remain undefined. Providers of gender-affirming care are also barred from being listed in plan directories, effectively discouraging access (Office of Personnel Management, 2025; Moss, 2025).

To understand the gravity of this reversal, it is necessary to recall how hard-fought the gains for transgender health care under FEHB were. In 2014, OPM lifted the longstanding blanket exclusion of gender-affirming procedures, and by 2016 carriers were instructed not to categorically deny such care. This change aligned federal benefits with emerging medical consensus that gender-affirming treatments are not elective but medically necessary. The World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH) and the Endocrine Society have long affirmed that access to hormone therapy and surgeries significantly reduces psychological distress, improves quality of life, and prevents serious health complications (Hembree et al., 2017; Coleman et al., 2022). For nearly a decade, transgender federal employees and retirees could rely on this coverage as a matter of equity and recognition of their humanity.

As a transgender woman who has been receiving gender-affirming health care for more than eleven years, this policy shift strikes me not just as a bureaucratic adjustment but as a direct threat to my life and well-being. Having undergone an orchiectomy, I rely on estradiol not simply as an affirming treatment, but as essential hormone replacement. Without it, my bones, cardiovascular health, cognition, and emotional stability would be at severe risk. Estradiol for me is no different than thyroid medication for someone with hypothyroidism—it is medically necessary, lifelong care. To see it lumped under a politically charged category of “optional” transition services is both scientifically inaccurate and deeply insulting.

What unsettles me most is the uncertainty this policy creates. OPM’s promise of an “exceptions process” offers little clarity. Will it protect those of us with medical histories spanning over a decade of consistent care? Or will it force us into endless appeals and denials, treating every prescription refill as a battle? This ambiguity is destabilizing, and I cannot help but feel that it is intentional—designed to make care harder to access and to discourage providers from stepping forward.

As a federal retiree, I gave years of service under the assumption that the benefits I earned would protect me equitably. Now, I feel as though my identity has made me a target within the very system I trusted. The estimated 14,000 transgender federal employees and retirees who will be affected are not faceless statistics; we are people who dedicated our careers to serving this country, only to be told that our health care needs are unworthy of recognition (Lambda Legal, 2025; them.us, 2025). The exclusion also signals a dangerous precedent: that essential medical care can be stripped away not because of evidence or cost, but because of politics.

This change must be understood in its broader social context. Over the past decade, transgender Americans have seen both progress and backlash. The Affordable Care Act’s Section 1557 extended nondiscrimination protections in health care, and the Supreme Court’s ruling in Bostock v. Clayton County (2020) affirmed that gender identity is protected under Title VII. Yet, simultaneously, states across the country have passed laws restricting access to gender-affirming care, particularly for youth, framing these measures as cultural wedge issues. The OPM directive extends that wave of exclusion into the federal system, embedding discrimination into the nation’s largest employer-based insurance program.

For me personally, this is not an abstract policy debate. It is about whether I will be able to continue accessing the medication that keeps me healthy and alive. It is about whether the years of progress we celebrated were only temporary reprieves. And it is about what message this sends to younger transgender people entering federal service today: that their health and dignity can be used as bargaining chips in political battles.

I cannot help but feel anxious about what the future holds, but I also feel resolved. This rollback will not go unchallenged. Advocacy groups such as Lambda Legal, the National Center for Transgender Equality, and others have already condemned it as unlawful and are preparing legal strategies (Lambda Legal, 2025). As a transgender woman and a retiree, I plan to add my voice to that chorus, because silence is what allows discrimination to endure. We have fought too hard, and for too long, to let the ground be taken out from under us without resistance.

References

Coleman, E., Radix, A. E., Bouman, W. P., Brown, G. R., de Vries, A. L. C., Deutsch, M. B., … Winter, S. (2022). Standards of Care for the Health of Transgender and Gender Diverse People, Version 8. International Journal of Transgender Health, 23(sup1), S1–S259. https://doi.org/10.1080/26895269.2022.2100644

Hembree, W. C., Cohen-Kettenis, P. T., Gooren, L., Hannema, S. E., Meyer, W. J., Murad, M. H., … T’Sjoen, G. G. (2017). Endocrine Treatment of Gender-Dysphoric/Gender-Incongruent Persons: An Endocrine Society Clinical Practice Guideline. The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism, 102(11), 3869–3903. https://doi.org/10.1210/jc.2017-01658

Lambda Legal. (2025, August 19). Lambda Legal condemns Trump administration’s illegal exclusion of gender-affirming care from employee health benefits. Retrieved August 22, 2025, from https://lambdalegal.org/newsroom

Moss, K. (2025, August 20). Coverage for gender-affirming care will be eliminated from FEHB plans in 2026. Government Executive. Retrieved August 22, 2025, from https://www.govexec.com

Office of Personnel Management. (2025). Carrier Letter 2025-01b: Chemical and surgical sex-trait modification exclusion. Retrieved August 22, 2025, from https://opm.gov

them.us. (2025, August 20). Trump Admin to end coverage of gender-affirming care for federal workers. them. Retrieved August 22, 2025, from https://www.them

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