:quality(70)/cloudfront-us-east-1.images.arcpublishing.com/advancelocal/3E6PRGIZW5FFLCEXXXVK5KNXZA.jpg)
Finn Freeman knows that he’s not supposed to curse, especially in front of his parents, but in talking about what it feels like to be a trans kid in Alabama right now, he can’t help it. “It’s really, really, really, really shitty,” the 17-year-old said over the phone as his mother, Jody, listens on. “I can’t use crappy because crappy doesn’t explain it enough. It’s awful. It feels like I’m not even a person.”
Finn’s anger at Alabama is especially raw at the moment because he has been unable to refill his testosterone prescription after his mother was turned away from every pharmacy in their rural community—15 minutes away from the nearest Walmart and an hour and a half from the closest movie theater. Earlier this month, pharmacists claimed that they could not fulfill after an August ruling from the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals upholding Alabama’s strict ban on gender-affirming health care for trans minors. The law is still enjoined while advocates appeal the ruling, as Jody tried to explain, but she was sent home without the medication her son needs anyway.
There are only two doses remaining in Finn’s testosterone prescription, which he said will last him about a week and a half. His doctor ordered a refill through a mail-order pharmacy out of state, but the medication has not yet come and Jody worries they may be running out of time. “For a couple of days, I had a downward spiral with my mental health,” she said. “It feels like you can’t do anything. There’s no next step to take, nobody to help you.”
The court ruling lifting Alabama’s trans medical care ban has resulted in mass confusion and chaos since the verdict was announced in August. As sources tell Reckon, trans kids across the state have struggled to get their prescriptions filled in the wake of the decision, and many families don’t realize that trans youth medicine still remains legal, for now. That potential misunderstanding stands to impact numerous trans youth across Alabama: At least 3,400 trans kids under the age of 18 live in the state, according to a recent report from the Williams Institute, a pro-LGBTQ+ think tank at the University of California, Los Angeles.
Other Alabama parents have reported having the same problems as the Freemans in getting refills of their children’s puberty blockers or hormone replacement therapy, according to Corey Harvard, executive director of the Mobile-based LGBTQ+ group Prism United. He estimated that Prism communicates with as many as 80 families through its support groups and said “the overwhelming majority, probably 70% to 80%, are struggling right now” with that very issue.
“At our support group gatherings, we can feel the helplessness,” Harvard said. “Even though we are working tirelessly to fill the kind of gaps in need that this ruling has left, the reality is that there’s just so much uncertainty.”
That uncertainty likely stems from Alabama’s twisty legal fight over its gender-affirming care ban, which was first enacted in April 2022. The law, which threatens doctors who administer transition treatments to minors with up to 10 years in prison and a $10,000 fine, was partially enjoined the following month. In a 32-page order, U.S. District Judge Liles Burke of the Northern District of Alabama declared that the Alabama law posed an “imminent threat to harm” for trans youth. He went on to reaffirm the “‘enduring American tradition’ that parents—not the States or federal courts—play the primary role in nurturing and caring for their children.”
The temporary injunction would stand for more than a year before the 11th Circuit weighed in, citing the Supreme Court’s June 2022 decision to overturn Roe v. Wade in arguing that Alabama has a constitutional right to restrict trans health care. “The use of these medications in general—let alone for children—almost certainly is not ‘deeply rooted’ in our nation’s history and tradition,” wrote Judge Barbara Lagoa, echoing the SCOTUS majority opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization.
LGBTQ+ advocacy groups have requested that the 11th Circuit rehear the case en banc—meaning that all 12 members of the court would weigh in, rather than a three-judge panel—and it has yet to respond to the plea. It’s unclear when a decision whether to take up the appeal will be announced. Ultimately, Alabama’s trans medical care ban may wind up before SCOTUS itself after the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals issued a ruling in September allowing Kentucky and Tennessee to restrict trans youth medical care, which advocates are likely to appeal.
For now, LGBTQ+ groups say there’s no reason that trans youth and their parents should be turned away while attempting to access gender-affirming care in Alabama.
“The injunction remains in place, and the law cannot be enforced,” said Jennifer Levi, senior director of transgender and queer rights at the non-profit legal rights organization GLAD. “But one of the harmful things about this law and others like it is that it’s preventing families from being able to provide medical care. It’s certainly part of a concerted effort to try to interfere with parents’ ability to care for their adolescents, and unfortunately, that’s what we’re seeing happening.”
But if some Alabama medical providers aren’t aware of the current policies regarding trans youth medical care, the decision is also resulting in misinformation among families themselves. Jeff Walker—whose 16-year-old daughter, Harleigh, is trans—said that he can’t even count how many parents have reached out to him in the past month because they’d been turned away from their pharmacy and were unsure whether their child’s health care was still legal. Although LGBTQ+ organizations like the Human Rights Campaign have held virtual town halls to try and educate Alabama parents, Walker said many families remain “confused, upset, and concerned.”
“If you’re not able to follow this minute-to-minute, day-to-day, then you probably are sitting home thinking, ‘What do I do?’” Walker said. “A lot of people, unless they’re really, really well connected already or they know somebody like Harleigh, they might not have somebody that can ask.”
Finn and Jody Freeman feel lucky that their doctor—who is based in Tuscaloosa, two hours away—was able to help answer their questions and keep them connected to care. But Finn still struggles with the fact that the lawmakers who have thoroughly upended their lives have never even met him. They don’t know a single thing about him, such as that he has a pet rabbit and a prodigious collection of trinkets. He admitted that the assortment—which includes an empty Red Bull can and an UNO reverse card—is mostly sentimental trash, but the crown jewel is a lantern his grandfather gave him, which was passed down from his own father.
While Finn said that being transgender is just one aspect of who he is—and a banal one at that—he can’t deny the profound difference that testosterone has made in his life. In the few months since he began medically transitioning, he said he’s started walking with greater confidence, and he’s more comfortable with approaching strangers. There’s a bubbliness to Finn that his family hasn’t seen in a long time, and he cannot fathom why some politicians would want to take that joy away from him.
“I don’t know why they would care to begin with,” he said. “I don’t know why they say, ‘I just care so much for these children’ and yet you’re literally handing them their coffins. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”