The Hurricane, the protest and Rachel Levine

American Academy of Pediatrics Action

The Hurricane, the Protest, and Rachel Levine

Last weekend, I did a thing. After 2 1/2 years going down the gender-critical rabbit hole, reading every book, listening to every podcast, and, in the meantime, pissing off half my friends, I finally joined up with other like-minded people in the LGBT Courage Coalition to protest Admiral Rachel Levine and the American Academy of Pediatrics at their annual convention. Held this year seven hours south of me in Orlando, Florida, it was the moment I had been preparing for—a chance to stand up for what I believe in alongside others fighting for the same cause: to protect children from medical interventions and advocate for their natural development.

A hurricane had swept through Florida and the Southeast the day before, leaving devastation in its wake—lost lives, broken families, and people isolated, cut off from the world. As I drove down through the aftermath, I couldn’t help but see the storm as a reflection of the chaos caused by the medical transition of children. Just like the destruction left behind by the hurricane, the rush to medically transition minors leaves families in shock and lives forever altered.

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

When I finally arrived, it was after 8:00 PM on Friday night, just as the weekend strategy meeting started. Over 20 people were there to strategize for the weekend—a diverse group of lesbians, feminists, parents, allies, detransitioners, and even a lawyer or two. After the meeting, we went swimming, and I had the chance to talk with Soren and Nicolas, two young detransitioners. There would be two groups at the event: one group of detransitioners stationed inside at a booth and our volunteers stationed outside, holding signs and placing banners with our messages, such as “Follow the Cass Review” and “Stop transing gay kids.” Hearing their stories was both heartbreaking and validating. For the first time in years, I felt surrounded by people who truly understood why this issue had consumed my thoughts for the last 2 1/2 years.

My Journey to Gender-Critical Activism

My journey into gender-critical activism came down to two defining moments in the spring of 2022. The first was watching Lia Thomas, a transwoman, competing in the NCAA women’s swimming championships. Seeing the impact this was having on women’s sports shook me deeply. It made me realize how much was at stake when gender identity policies affected spaces meant for biological women. The second moment came after attending a birthday party for a dear friend in my former hometown of Birmingham. There, I found out that eight children of my friends believed they were trans.

At first, I was shocked, but I quickly realized that it was statistically impossible for so many of my friends to have trans children unless something much larger was happening. It wasn’t just a coincidence—it was evidence of a social contagion. That realization pushed me into action, and I began speaking out against the rapid medicalization of children with gender dysphoria. I saw clearly that this is a form of gay conversion therapy: stop transing gay kids.

Meeting detransitioners confirmed that I was on the right side of this fight. These young adults had once believed that medical transition was the solution, only to realize, too late, that it wasn’t. Their stories of regret were heartbreaking. They reminded me of past movements for justice, like the Freedom Riders in the ‘60s and ACT UP during the AIDS crisis. As someone whose hometown, Selma, Alabama, played such a powerful part in the civil rights movement, we were there to do what John Lewis called “good trouble,” and I believe we succeeded!

Day One: Watching, Learning, and Peppermint Patty

The first day was mostly about watching, learning, and getting a feel for the protest. The Florida heat was relentless, and we were stationed on a grassy median between the convention center and the Hyatt. I took breaks to go inside, cool off, and figure out the best way to approach the next day.

A small but memorable moment happened when a conference attendee complimented my Peppermint Patty hat. I smiled and told him, “You know the best thing about Peppermint Patty? No one ever tried to turn her into a boy.” He laughed, but I made my point. It was a subtle reminder of why we were there.

Later in the day, typical Florida weather hit us with a downpour, cutting the protest short. We packed up and prepared for what we knew would be the main event the next day.

Day Two: Taking a Stand and Building Allies

Day two was when things truly escalated. Admiral Rachel Levine, a key figure in pushing pediatric transitioning policies, was the featured speaker at the American Academy of Pediatrics convention. One of our group’s leaders, Lauren, was able to infiltrate the conference and get inside the auditorium where Admiral Levine was giving the keynote speech. She boldly stood up during the speech and shouted:

“Why did you pressure WPATH to remove age restrictions? How does this help children? Most gender nonconforming kids grow up to be gay! Stop transing gay kids! You are all complicit in homosexual conversion! Stop transing gay kids! You are all complicit in homosexual conversion! Stop transing gay kids!”

She was escorted out by the police, detained, and released with a trespassing warning. Her message was delivered.

Meanwhile, Christina and I were inside the hotel, placing brochures in strategic locations throughout the lobby and restrooms. Later, Christina went back for a second round of fliering with team member Elizabeth, and would you believe, they ran into Levine in the women’s room. Levine must have seen the fliers. Not long after, a local Orlando doctor, who had been out jogging, stopped to thank us for what we were doing. It was reassuring to know that our peaceful, persistent message was reaching people. We were there to make it clear that most gender nonconforming kids grow out of dysphoria by puberty and realize they are gay. Medical intervention takes away that natural process, and we were there to stand against it.

Looking Ahead: Cleaning Up the Wreckage

Even if the medical transitioning of minors were to stop tomorrow and the skies cleared, the damage already done will take years to heal. At this point, there aren’t even medical codes for detransitioners. There is a desperate need for codes and even providers willing to see detransitioners. Apologies for this medical nightmare are long overdue and necessary, as this will one day be looked back on much like the lobotomies of the past.

This weekend's experience made me realize how urgently people like me are needed on the front lines. More people need to show up and be counted on the right side of history, standing against this medical scandal that has hurt so many of society’s most vulnerable. I plan to attend the next stateside event for United States v. Skrmetti, the upcoming Supreme Court case that will challenge Tennessee's ban on gender-affirming care for minors. Please follow LGBT Courage Coalition in standing against the harmful medicalization of vulnerable children. Being part of this movement feels essential now more than ever.

Coda

On Monday, the last day of the conference, the Alliance for Mental Health and the young detransitioners were kicked out of the event despite paying $25,000 for the booth, travel, and accommodations and remaining peaceful and respectful all weekend. This demonstrates that the American Academy of Pediatrics cannot tolerate dissenting voices for long. We are on the side of truth and we will not be silenced!