There are countless cases of men infiltrating women’s spaces—from sports teams and locker rooms to bathrooms, and even in female prisons. I served nearly five years in the Central California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla, one of the largest women’s prisons in the country. During that time, I personally experienced how vital it is to have single-sex spaces for the safety, privacy, and rehabilitation of incarcerated women.
When I founded my nonprofit Woman II Woman, the letters, calls, and cries for help seemed almost too much to handle. Serial rapists, serial child molesters, and a murderer who killed an entire family are just a few examples of the type of people who have walked into women’s spaces.
One man in particular went as far as using his phone time to call up his buddies in the men’s prison to tell them to “Get over here—it’s a gold mine.”
California’s Transgender Respect, Agency and Dignity Act, also known as SB 132, was signed into law in 2020 and went into effect in 2021. This law made it so that the California prison system would allow any incarcerated individual to be placed in a prison based on their “gender identity.” Yet this so-called act of “respect” and “dignity” has completely disrespected and decimated the dignity of all women who reside in one of these facilities.
Let’s put the debate into perspective.
In California, 92 percent of incarcerated women have been victims of sexual assault. If prison is truly a time of reflection, rehabilitation, and accountability, how can women possibly heal while being forced to relive their trauma? How can dignity exist when biological reality is ignored so that a male can watch you change, use the bathroom, and share your bunk bed?
What is happening inside of women’s prisons is happening everywhere you turn—at your gym, at your local middle and high schools, at the Ivy League college that your child attends. This is a national crisis that has seen only silence or, worse, a green light from the people who have sworn defend and uplift women no matter what.
This week, the Supreme Court of the United States is hearing oral arguments in two cases that will have a ripple effect across our nation: West Virginia v. B.P.J. and Little v. Hecox. These cases center on whether states are allowed to maintain sex-based protections for women and girls. While these cases arise from disputes over women’s sports, the implications stretch far beyond the playing field.
The fundamental question that will be addressed through these cases is this: does the law still recognize biological sex as a meaningful and legitimate category, or can it be erased in favor of subjective identity claims?
The logic being tested before the Court is the same logic that opened the doors of California women’s prisons to male inmates under SB 132. If sex distinctions are deemed discriminatory in sports, they become indefensible everywhere else. This slippery slope is not theoretical—we are already living it.
Supporters of these policies often frame them as compassionate or inclusive, but compassion cannot come at the expense of women’s safety, dignity, and bodily autonomy.
For incarcerated women, the stakes could not be higher. Prison strips you of freedom, privacy, and control over your environment. It should not, however, strip you of your safety. Doing otherwise constitutes no less than cruel and unusual punishment. When the law tells women that their discomfort, fear, and trauma must take a backseat to a man’s identity claim, it sends a chilling message: women do not matter.
Trans-supremacists want women erased. They want a one-size-fits-all agenda, with little to no rules, in order to enact policies that belittle women. They want boys to be able to dominate in sports, and men to be able to come into women’s prisons so they can continue harming women.
We must fight back against this dangerous and absurd ideology, and be the voice for all women and girls. It’s why I’ve dedicated my life to being their advocate.
The outcomes of West Virginia v. B.P.J. and Little v. Hecox will reach far beyond sports. They will either reinforce the principle that sex-based protections are lawful, necessary, and just—or accelerate the erosion of women’s spaces that has already placed so many women at risk. For those of us who have lived the consequences, this moment isn’t just another political headline. It’s personal. And it is long overdue.