In recent years, a troubling trend has emerged across the United States: the introduction and enactment of laws that effectively criminalize aspects of being transgender. These laws go beyond limiting access to medical care or restricting participation in public life; they represent a broader effort to marginalize and erase transgender individuals.
While Illinois has upheld legal protections for transgender individuals, the national wave of anti-trans legislation is deeply concerning. These laws do not only harm those living in conservative states but also create ripple effects that extend nationwide, even reaching those in progressive areas. The increasing criminalization of transgender identity threatens fundamental civil rights, healthcare access, and the ability of transgender people to live openly and safely.
State legislatures across the country have introduced and, in some cases, passed extreme laws targeting transgender identity and gender-affirming care. Some states have proposed criminalizing transgender people for identifying as a gender different from what was assigned at birth, labeling this as fraud and imposing severe legal penalties. Others have removed gender identity from anti-discrimination protections, allowing increased discrimination against transgender individuals in employment, housing, and public services. Laws have also been passed that restrict or even ban access to gender-affirming medical care, not only for minors but in some cases for adults as well.
At the federal level, executive orders and policy changes have further undermined transgender rights. Government efforts to redefine gender strictly based on biological sex have effectively stripped transgender individuals of legal recognition in various federally funded programs. Funding for gender-affirming healthcare has also been targeted, making it more difficult for transgender individuals to access essential medical services, even in states that support such care. These measures reinforce discrimination at a national level and create a legal environment where transgender people are increasingly marginalized.
For those living in states like Illinois, where transgender rights are legally protected, it may seem as though these laws will not have an impact. However, the reality is far more complex. Federal policies can override state protections, particularly when it comes to funding for healthcare programs. Clinics that provide gender-affirming care may struggle to maintain services if federal funding is restricted. Additionally, the growing number of transgender individuals fleeing hostile states in search of healthcare and safety could place a strain on resources in states that offer protection.
Beyond the legal and healthcare implications, the rise of anti-trans legislation contributes to a culture of hostility and discrimination. Even in states with protective laws, the national conversation around transgender rights affects public attitudes, often leading to increased discrimination, workplace bias, and violence against transgender people. Hate crimes targeting transgender individuals have been on the rise, fueled by rhetoric that paints them as threats rather than human beings deserving of dignity and respect. Traveling becomes riskier for transgender people, as neighboring states with restrictive laws create environments where something as simple as using a public restroom or presenting as one’s authentic self could lead to harassment, arrest, or violence.
As a transgender woman living in Illinois, the inconsistency of protections across different states creates a constant sense of uncertainty. Rights that are protected in one place can disappear the moment state lines are crossed. The ability to live freely and without fear should not be dependent on geography, yet that is the reality that many transgender people face. Even in a progressive state, the fear of national policy changes and the emboldening of anti-trans sentiment weighs heavily on daily life.
The economic and social consequences of these laws extend beyond the transgender community. Businesses are pulling events and operations from states that pass extreme anti-trans laws, leading to financial losses. Universities in these states are seeing declines in applications from LGBTQ+ students, affecting campus diversity. If the spread of these laws continues, even states that have supported transgender rights may face political pressure to conform to restrictive national policies.
At its core, the push to criminalize transgender identity is a moral and ethical crisis. These laws deny transgender people their dignity, autonomy, and basic human rights. The argument that such laws are meant to protect children or uphold traditional values is nothing more than a justification for discrimination. Medical professionals overwhelmingly agree that gender-affirming care is essential and life-saving. The refusal to recognize transgender identities and the restriction of medical care only lead to higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide among transgender individuals. These laws are not about protecting anyone—they are about controlling and erasing a marginalized group.
The continued expansion of anti-trans laws should concern everyone, not just those directly affected. When governments begin rolling back rights for one group, history has shown that other marginalized communities will soon be targeted. Today, transgender people face the brunt of these attacks, but tomorrow, it could be anyone whose identity or autonomy does not align with the political agenda of those in power. If these laws are allowed to stand, they will embolden further government overreach into personal identity, medical autonomy, and individual freedoms.
Addressing this crisis requires action. Elections matter, and voting for candidates who support transgender rights is crucial at every level of government. Legal challenges to these laws are ongoing, and organizations fighting for transgender rights need support. Social advocacy is also critical—challenging anti-trans rhetoric, educating others, and standing up for transgender individuals in everyday life all contribute to pushing back against this wave of discrimination. Protecting the most vulnerable members of the transgender community is essential, whether through direct financial support, providing safe spaces, or amplifying their voices.
The criminalization of transgender identity is not about safety or protecting society—it is about control. The ability to live as one’s authentic self should never be a political debate. No one should have to fear losing their rights, their healthcare, or their safety simply for existing. This fight is about human dignity, and it is one that cannot be ignored.

Why Teaching Requires More Than Pedagogy
By Katherine Walter
On May 16, 2025
In educational institutions
Created with ChatGPT
As someone who holds a Master’s degree in Anthropology, I entered the world of education with both passion and purpose. While my primary focus was cultural anthropology, I—like every graduate in the discipline—was trained in all four subfields: cultural, linguistic, archaeological, and biological anthropology. That meant I not only studied cultures and societies, but also the scientific method, human evolution, genetics, and the biological roots of human behavior. I came to education with a deep respect for science and evidence-based learning.
This is why, during an assignment as a substitute teacher in a high school science class in Illinois, I was shocked when the regular teacher told me—without hesitation—that “scientific theories are not factual.” He dismissed evolution as “make believe,” clearly unaware that a scientific theory is one of the highest forms of scientific understanding—built upon repeated observation, experimentation, and peer review. Evolution is the cornerstone of modern biology, not a matter of personal belief.
This isn’t a harmless slip-up. This is a fundamental failure in teacher preparation. It’s not enough to teach students how to learn if we’re giving them incorrect or ideologically distorted content. I’ve read critiques arguing that college should be limited to learning within one’s major, and that students should have mastered foundational knowledge in high school. The reality is, many high school students aren’t mastering those foundations—because their teachers are not adequately prepared to teach them.
Too many teacher preparation programs emphasize methods over mastery. Aspiring educators are trained extensively in classroom management, differentiated instruction, and educational theory—yet not always required to have a deep command of the subjects they will teach. In some cases, they’re licensed to teach science with little more than a generalist background.
And the problem doesn’t end with science.
I was working toward my teaching license through a Master of Arts in Teaching (MAT) program when I encountered another systemic problem—this time around sex education. I have a sex-positive stance, one rooted in both personal conviction and research-based evidence. In one health class I observed, students were assigned to budget for the costs of raising a newborn. It was clear the goal was to instill fear—to use financial anxiety as a scare tactic to promote abstinence. But studies have consistently shown that abstinence-only education not only fails to prevent teen pregnancy and STIs but can also be psychologically harmful, particularly to students who do become young parents.
Sexual health education should be empowering and factual, not shame-driven. But when I expressed my concerns, I encountered resistance—not just from individual educators, but from the institution itself.
Things came to a head when a student created a video montage of several posts from my account on X (formerly Twitter). These were not instructional posts. They were personal, blunt statements about my sexual desires—an expression of my identity as a sex-positive transgender woman and my belief that it is okay to have sexual feelings as a man or trans woman who is attracted to men. These posts were part of my advocacy: normalizing desire, refusing shame, and affirming the validity of trans and queer sexuality.
The school’s administration didn’t see it that way. Despite my academic progress and professional goals, my student teaching was terminated by the principal and HR. The university I was attending stated that they supported me—but they offered no legal or practical assistance in dealing with the district. Ultimately, I was left to fend for myself, and I made the painful decision to withdraw from the MAT program.
This experience left me disillusioned but not without resolve. It exposed not only the institutional discomfort with sex positivity and LGBTQ+ inclusion, but also a broader systemic issue: we are not preparing teachers who are content experts, nor are we protecting those who challenge outdated or harmful norms. We are failing both our educators and our students.
This is why I firmly believe that the time has come to rethink our entire approach to public education. In today’s complex and fast-paced world, a high school diploma is no longer sufficient preparation for the workforce—or for responsible citizenship. I believe a community college education should become the new baseline, just as a high school diploma was once considered the minimum requirement. Community colleges offer an affordable, accessible means of deepening one’s understanding of science, mathematics, communication, and civic literacy. They can provide a critical bridge to more specialized training and help ensure that our future educators, health workers, and citizens are equipped with both knowledge and critical thinking skills.
We need teachers who understand evolution, who can explain the scientific method, who are prepared to address the realities of human sexuality without resorting to fear or shame. We need school districts that protect educators from ideological purges, and universities that do more than offer symbolic support when their students face political or cultural backlash.
I may have been pushed out of the MAT program, but I have not given up on education. I still believe deeply in the power of teaching—and in the need for radical reform in how we prepare those who take on that responsibility.
Our students deserve teachers who are not only caring and skilled, but who actually know what they’re talking about. Anything less is a betrayal of their potential.