
COLLEGE PARK, GEORGIA – JULY 29: Jordin Canada #3 of the Atlanta Dream drives against Carla Leite #0 of the Golden State Valkyries during the second quarter at Gateway Center Arena on July 29, 2025 in College Park, Georgia. (Photo by Kevin C. Cox/Getty Images)
During several WNBA games in the summer of 2025, a disturbing trend emerged: spectators began throwing sex toys onto the court, disrupting play and creating unsafe and degrading conditions for players and fans. The first widely reported incident occurred on July 29, 2025, during a matchup between the Atlanta Dream and the Golden State Valkyries, when a lime-green dildo landed on the court and halted the game (Glamour, 2025; Washington Post, 2025). In the weeks that followed, similar disruptions occurred in Chicago, Los Angeles, Phoenix, and New York, with at least six games affected despite arrests and increased security measures (Andscape, 2025). One incident in New York nearly struck a 12-year-old spectator, underscoring the physical danger posed by these objects (New York Post, 2025).
Law enforcement identified and arrested several individuals connected to the incidents. Delbert Carver, 23, was arrested in connection with the initial Atlanta game disruption, while 18-year-old Kaden Lopez was arrested in Phoenix after striking a man and his 9-year-old niece with a thrown sex toy (Washington Post, 2025; Them, 2025). Both claimed their actions were impulsive pranks. Later, a cryptocurrency meme-coin group took credit for orchestrating the stunts as a promotional gimmick for “Green Dildo Coin” (ESPN, 2025).
While some online commentators framed the events as harmless or absurd, such interpretations ignore the deeper implications. WNBA athletes already contend with systemic bias and underrepresentation in sports media. By introducing an explicitly sexual object into their workplace, these incidents reinforce the sexualization of female athletes and minimize their professional achievements, reducing them to objects of ridicule and harassment. Cheryl Reeve, coach of the Minnesota Lynx, criticized the acts as “the latest version” of the ongoing sexualization of women in sports (Global News, 2025). Andscape’s coverage was even more direct, framing the behavior as a perpetuation of rape culture, noting that a man throwing a phallic object at a women’s sporting event is not comedy but an assertion of dominance (Andscape, 2025).
The incidents also illustrate the interplay between misogyny, viral marketing, and meme culture. In an era where online clout often outweighs human decency, such stunts are engineered for virality rather than protest, turning women’s sports into backdrops for digital spectacle (The Guardian, 2025). As the WNBA experiences rising popularity and visibility, with athletes like Sophie Cunningham drawing growing attention, the behavior can also be seen as a reactionary attempt to undermine women’s empowerment (Glamour, 2025).
Ultimately, these disruptions are not harmless pranks but acts of harassment that threaten both the safety and dignity of athletes and spectators. They signal the persistence of a culture that devalues women’s athletic accomplishments and views women’s bodies as fair game for public ridicule. Respect for female athletes must be non-negotiable, and addressing this behavior requires a collective response from leagues, security personnel, media, and fans to ensure that the court remains a space for competition, not degradation.
References
Andscape. (2025, August 8). Sex toys on the court? This is about more than the WNBA. Andscape. https://andscape.com/features/wnba-sex-toys-on-court/
ESPN. (2025, August 7). Crypto group says it orchestrated WNBA sex toy tosses. ESPN. https://www.espn.com/wnba/story/_/id/45923322/crypto-group-says-orchestrated-sex-toy-tosses-wnba-games
Glamour. (2025, August 8). Throwing dildos at WNBA games has become a trend. We need to talk about it. Glamour. https://www.glamour.com/story/throwing-dildos-wnba-games-trend
Global News. (2025, August 9). WNBA sex toys thrown on court: Coach calls it latest sexualization of women. Global News. https://globalnews.ca/news/11323758/wnba-sex-toys-thrown-on-court-crypto/
New York Post. (2025, August 8). More sex toys thrown during Sky-Dream game despite recent arrests: “It’s dumb.” New York Post. https://nypost.com/2025/08/08/sports/more-sex-toys-thrown-during-sky-dream-game-despite-recent-arrests/
The Guardian. (2025, August 8). WNBA sex toy throwing shows meme culture’s shameful collapse. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2025/aug/08/wnba-sex-toy-throwing-meme-culture-shame-collapse
Them. (2025, August 6). Man arrested after throwing sex toy at WNBA game. Them. https://www.them.us/story/wnba-dildo-atlanta-dream
Washington Post. (2025, August 9). How a sex toy meme-coin hijacked the WNBA. The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2025/08/09/wnba-sex-toys-crypto-meme-coin-timeline/


Transgender Pornography Is Performance, Not Representation
By Katherine Walter
On July 16, 2026
In adult films
A stylized editorial composition pairs bold typography with filmmaking imagery, including a director’s chair under studio lights, to emphasize the essay’s central argument that transgender pornography is a staged form of entertainment rather than a representation of transgender lives. The image underscores the distinction between commercial fantasy and lived experience while affirming that supporting transgender pornography is compatible with recognizing its representational limitations. (Image generated by ChatGPT using DALL·E, 2026.)
Whenever people discuss transgender pornography, I think it’s important to begin with an honest admission: I support transgender pornography. I don’t believe there is anything inherently wrong with consenting adults creating or consuming adult content. Sex work is work, performers deserve respect, and transgender performers deserve the same autonomy over their bodies and careers as anyone else.
At the same time, I think we need to be honest about what transgender pornography is—and what it isn’t.
Pornography is entertainment. It is staged. It is directed. It is edited. It is created to satisfy an audience. It has never been an accurate representation of how people actually live, love, or experience their sexuality.
Transgender pornography is no different.
For decades, the largest commercial market for transgender pornography has been cisgender men. Like every successful entertainment industry, producers have responded to the desires of their customers. The stories, camera work, performers, marketing, and even the terminology used have largely been shaped by what sells to that audience.
That doesn’t make transgender pornography bad.
It simply means we shouldn’t mistake it for a documentary about transgender lives.
As a transgender woman myself, I often find that mainstream transgender pornography doesn’t speak to me. That’s not because I object to pornography—quite the opposite. It’s because so much of it is produced through the lens of what cisgender men find appealing rather than what transgender women themselves might find authentic, relatable, or emotionally engaging.
I would love to see more transgender pornography created by transgender people, for transgender audiences, or at least with our perspectives in mind. Stories that reflect our relationships, our intimacy, our humor, our vulnerability, and the many different ways we experience attraction and desire.
Instead, much of the industry revolves around familiar commercial formulas. Performers become fantasy figures rather than complete people. The focus is on creating a particular erotic experience for the viewer, not portraying the diversity of transgender lives.
Again, that isn’t unique to transgender pornography.
Mainstream heterosexual pornography is not an accurate depiction of heterosexual relationships. Lesbian pornography produced for straight men often bears little resemblance to the lived experiences of many lesbians. Gay pornography is designed to entertain its audience, not to document everyday gay life. Every genre emphasizes fantasy over realism.
Transgender pornography follows the same commercial model.
The problem arises when people have little or no real-life interaction with transgender people and pornography becomes their primary source of information. They begin to assume that what they see on screen reflects how transgender women generally look, behave, think, or approach relationships.
It doesn’t.
Porn performers are actors. Scenes are planned. Directors make creative choices. Editing removes awkward moments. Bodies are selected because they fit a particular aesthetic. The finished product is designed to arouse viewers—not to educate them about transgender people.
That’s why it’s important to separate fantasy from reality.
Transgender women are as varied as any other group of people. We are professionals, students, artists, parents, veterans, athletes, scientists, retail workers, and everything in between. Some of us enjoy making pornography. Most of us do not. Our identities cannot be reduced to a category on an adult website.
Supporting transgender pornography and recognizing its limitations are not contradictory positions.
I can appreciate adult entertainment while also acknowledging that it is a commercial product built around audience demand. I can celebrate the performers while recognizing that the industry’s priorities do not necessarily reflect the experiences of transgender women as a whole.
Pornography is performance.
The sooner people understand that, the easier it becomes to appreciate it for what it is—fantasy created for entertainment—without confusing it for a realistic portrait of an entire community.