NO

“It makes me feel like all the work that has been done to separate my sport into its own gender group was for nothing,’ Farkes said. ‘The biological differences between us are so vast that even though we were close in weight I was still completely dominated by them.”

Overall, we believe that Laura Kelly should not have vetoed the bill. When transgenders participate in sports that don’t fit their biological sex, it creates inequality when competing.

This bill is a disservice not only to transwomen, but also to the public in general. Regulations should be considered within private organizations such as the NCAA, rather than pushing to ban transgender athletes entirely. When you ban one group from a sport, what’s stopping the government from banning another group of people? The number of transgender athletes in sports is not enough to merit an entire ban, and if nobody will bother to create a new division for trans athletes, then why are we cutting away their freedoms to compete in a sport? This debate has to do with womens’ sports, especially with recent controversies in NCAA swimming. Frankly speaking, it’s ironic how suddenly government officials care so much about womens’ sports when it relates to their political propaganda but, just before this debate, womens’ sports were labeled as boring, pointless and noncompetitive. I have been swimming competitively for 10 years. It is clear to me that taking away the rights of one group on the basis of biology or personal belief is an encroachment on personal and religious opinions. I can only imagine the consequences of this bill to be terrifying for young trans men and transwomen, who are often bullied, harassed and sometimes even killed for being who they are.

This bill will only strengthen anti-trans sentiments. While this bill only handles sports, I implore the supporters of this bill to think : if you are giving the government the decision to decide who can and cannot participate in parts of society, what’s stopping them from eventually taking freedoms away from you?

—Mehania Asir, senior

Long hazel locks fell to the floor.

The dulcet tones of wind chimes echoed throughout the barbershop, while nervous glances ricocheted against the textile flooring.

In the corner of my eye, I could spot my half-brother’s aunts tearing up, and not in the “congratulations” or “I’m so proud of you” kind of way.

Days of dressing their niece’s hair and plaiting it with precious bows were over.

As the barber swiveled the chair, letting the family take a moment to see the finished product beneath the blanket of glares, I could make out only one smile.

Relief began to unfurl in his shoulders. This was the first piece of the puzzle.

My parents and I always knew my sibling wasn’t the average girly girl. Instead of skirts, it was joggers. Instead of halter tops, it was oversized tees. Now I’m not saying wearing sweatshirts and baggy jeans as a middle school girl automatically outs you as transgender, but for Dre, it was different.

I’ve never been one to experience body dysphoria, however, when it affects someone you’ve known your whole life, you start to notice things.

The fake smiles.

The shielded anger.

The closed doors.

It felt as if our bond was becoming more and more compressed with every binder.

Until it snapped.

I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but as time passed, our interactions became less “hey’s” and “excuse me’s.” They turned into actual talks and distant understanding which resolved to acceptance.

It wasn’t that I never accepted my brother, I always did. It’s just that experiencing something like this so young, you never truly comprehend it till you’ve outgrown recess.

Growing up in a relaxed household, where I never had to take my shoes off at the door or worry about coasters, I was always educated on respect.

Respect for pronouns, opinions and appearances.

So I assumed, like any kid, that every other household was the same way.

Boy, was I wrong.

Seeing the news headline from PBS News Hour say “at least 32 transgender people were killed in the U.S. in 2022,” and TikTok comments reading “people like you make me sick” opened my eyes to a world I never wanted to be part of.

More than anything, I was confused.

How could my brother, who goes to bed with milk mustaches, be feared?

How could my brother, who made pillow forts for me when I was sick, be hated?

How could my brother, who walked our bikes home when my knees were skinned, be seen as disgusting?

As the youngest sibling, I was viewed as annoying, but as I got older I wanted to be a protector and shield him from all the hate.

What’s hard to accept is that I can’t. I know I can’t.

No matter what anyone says, I don’t care what the birth certificate read, he will always be my brother.