This month the Bureau of Prisons issued a policy change in their Transgender Offender Manual that will put transgender prisoners in harm’s way. The new policy indicates that trans prisoners will be housed according to their “biological sex.” This means many trans women and trans men will be placed into living conditions not congruent with their lived experiences.
I wanted to share my limited experience with the correctional system and being transgender. The treatment I received was only the tip of the cruelty iceberg. Many trans people have experienced rape and solitary confinement in prison.
I was arrested in June 2013 for DUI – although I wasn’t driving but that’s a whole different story. I spent 14 hours in a Philadelphia jail.
I’ve always been a bit terrified of any institutions and how to navigate as a trans person – hospitals, jails, etc. Clearly going to jail wasn’t in my plans. Sometimes we end up in situations that suck. I will explain my experience from when my trans identity was revealed and how I felt with the interactions.
I handed my license to the officer and she looked at my license and said, ‘You’re Natasha?!’ in a condescending tone – either she thought I had a stolen ID or I had the most ridiculous name for a man. Either way, I felt very uncomfortable and like less of a person. She continued to look – ‘You’re female?’ ‘Yes, I am.’ I answered this way because legally I was a female. I didn’t know how to explain the nuances of gender and non-binary and my whole evolution. Plus, something told me she wasn’t in for that type of story. She stared at me. It felt like how my mom looked at me when I first came out. I was a turd that suddenly appeared in a chair at the dinner table. I didn’t feel like explaining my trans identity at this point – mainly because I didn’t feel comfortable or safe. She demanded I get into the backseat of the squad car. Four more cops came. They searched my car. She opened the back door and cuffed me without a word. She started driving. I told her I was concerned about where I would be placed in jail because I was trans. At that moment, in the back of that cop car I was scared as hell that I’d be placed with men in an open cell. Sure, I looked like a man but, again, how do you explain an identity like mine.
They took me in and searched me – my legs visibly shaking. I believe a female cop patted me down but I was scared out of my mind so the details are foggy.
I ran through the usual things – mugshot, breathalyzer and then I got to make my calls. I called Hadassah and whispered that I was really scared. Sometimes I am not too good at expressing the full extent of my emotions such as terror, anger, sadness. What I wanted to say was – AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH OMG. JESUS. OH FUCK. I am so so fucking scared and cry some.
It came time to place me in a cell. They put me in the women’s block in my own cell. Each time a guard or arrestee (what is one called at this point?) passed my cell they stared. I could hear the thoughts in their head, ‘What is this dude doing on the women’s block?’
Eventually, a guard opened my cell and began asking me about my life decisions in regards to transitioning. She asked why I did it. She asked, ‘Why couldn’t you have just gotten through life as a woman?’ I answered, “I’m more comfortable this way.” She asked me about religion and God. At this point in the story, I’d like to tell you I was thinking some brave thought like ‘This is who I am and what is this woman doing questioning me.’ I wasn’t. I was thinking – maybe I did make the wrong decision. Maybe I am in a jail cell right now because I went down a devious path and maybe transitioning has made me mentally unstable. After about 10 mins of questioning and talking she left.
Hours passed. I only spent 14 hours in isolation and it was horrible. I actually missed the guard’s questioning because at least it passed the time. I stood. I sat. I stared at the ceiling. I wondered when the hell is this going to end. I prayed. I thought about when I got out. I thought about my pillow. I imagined my dad saying ‘it’s going to be okay.’ I heard the cellmates next to me talking to one another and eventually screaming at each other. I thought about how it’d be nice to have someone in my cell. Even if we were yelling at least we were passing the time. So, yes, isolation sucks. I can imagine it easily leading to insanity.
I finally got to see a judge and there I was in all my manly glory on a screen in a courtroom. The judge called me sir and Mr. Caldwell. I felt obligated to correct him because legally I am Natasha and she and I was so afraid of the legal system I didn’t want them to think I was trying to be a fraud. There I was – freaked out and female. Natasha in the truest, rawest way.
I would’ve been scared going to jail even if I lived the gender I was assigned at birth but adding the issue of layered identities – legal, physical and emotional – and in a fucked up system and I was terrified. Sometimes I think I can still smell the fear in the shirt I was wearing that night.
14 hours is nothing compared to 14 days and 14 days is nothing when compared to 14 months. I can’t even wrap my mind around the anguish transgender prisoners face. The Bureau of Prisoner’s new transgender policy only adds another layer of inhumanity to an already unimaginable cruel place.