Blog

From the Front Lines: Holding the Line—Together

Blog by Jennifer Levi, Senior Director of Queer and Transgender Rights

In times that echo darkly with historical parallels, I find myself compelled to share both warning and hope. Sunken into an overstuffed living room chair, my inbox overflows with messages from people whose lives are being upended by presidential orders predicated on rejecting transgender people’s existence. Each message carries its own weight: a service member whose surgery was halted mid-preparation, IV already in arm; a parent whose adolescent’s medical appointment has been cancelled indefinitely. Even what might seem like trivial executive actions – like an order promoting plastic straw use – reveal, as Sue Donnelly observes, a calculated effort to break people’s spirits. But I hope – and have to believe – these actions will have the opposite effect: redoubling people’s resolve to resist. From the legal frontlines, I can report that the rule of law is holding – but only through constant vigilance and effort from advocates in every sphere.

Yesterday marked another day in this crucial fight. GLBTQ Legal Advocates & Defenders (GLAD Law) filed our third case challenging Trump’s order to transfer transgender women to men’s prisons—a move that would put their lives at astronomically high risk of violence and sexual assault. While we stay low and ready for the next tackle – as I learned in my rugby days – I’m heartened to report that the temporary restraining order from one of our earlier cases continues to protect transgender women currently housed in women’s facilities, preventing their transfer.

Much of my day was spent preparing witnesses for an upcoming preliminary injunction hearing in our case challenging the ban on transgender military service. These service members, who have earned medals and highest honors, will testify about their commitment to service and the ways they have put their lives on the line for this country—a country that now threatens to discharge them from their duties simply for being transgender. They meet – and more often exceed – every standard required of military personnel. Yet they face discharge based on nothing more than who they are, a violation of our Constitution’s fundamental promise that laws cannot rest on a bare desire to harm.

The executive order that will bar them from service, if allowed to go into effect, marks a chilling shift in our government’s approach. While previous defenses of anti-transgender policies – whether about health care access or workplace discrimination – have hidden behind various pretexts, this order strips away that veneer. By explicitly labeling transgender service members as dishonest and undisciplined, the order reveals what has always been at the heart of anti-transgender prejudice: not protection of others, not health care concerns, but raw antipathy toward people who dare to be themselves.

The fight extends beyond the military. I helped my colleague Chris Erchull challenging the ban on transgender girls in sports, working to ensure a teenager in New Hampshire can keep showing up on the soccer field. And there was encouraging news: other legal teams secured a temporary restraining order blocking attempts to dismantle the USAID office, preserving – for now – vital support systems.

In these challenging moments, I find strength in Pauli Murray’s words which I carry in my suit coat pocket to every court appearance. Her poem “To the Oppressors” reminds us of the enduring power of resistance.

Now you are strong 
And we are but grapes aching with ripeness.
Crush us! Squeeze from us all the brave life Contained in these full skins. 
But ours is a subtle strength Potent with centuries of yearning, Of being kegged and shut away In dark forgotten places. 
We shall endure To steal your senses In that lonely twilight Of your winter’s grief.

We each have our lane in this fight. Mine is transgender legal advocacy, and I find myself grateful that my three decades of legal work have given me some helpful tools needed right now. But whether you’re a lawyer, teacher, parent, student, or citizen, your voice and actions matter. The rule of law holds not just through court decisions, but through the collective will of the people.

The echoes of history warn us of where unchecked power leads. Just today, I was forwarded a disturbing tweet from Vice President J.D. Vance: “if a judge tried to tell a general how to conduct a military operation, that would be illegal. If a judge tried to command the attorney general in how to use her discretion as a prosecutor, that’s also illegal; judges aren’t allowed to control the executive’s legitimate powers.”

To say the obvious, this is a threat, aimed at both advocates and the judges charged with upholding our Constitution. These words chill me deeply. But they also make me hold tighter to the pocket Constitution I carry with me, often alongside a copy of Pauli Murray’s poems. When I’m asked to empty my pockets at courthouse security, these items remind me of the longevity of our flawed but enduring democratic experiment – more than two centuries old – and how it has held fast through repeated challenges.

They also remind me of Murray herself, who held fast to her principles throughout her life, regardless of the pressures that could have crushed her. Though she was made invisible for decades, her life now serves as an inspiration to my own and many others. History teaches us that organized resistance works. These preliminary court orders—temporary shields for service members, incarcerated people, and federal employees—show that our system of justice can still respond to urgent needs, but the real fights lie ahead and will require sustained engagement.

The stakes are too high for complacency. In every space – from courtrooms to community centers, from school boards to social media – we can bear witness to both the harms being inflicted and the resilience of those who face them. From where I sit right now, I watch our democracy strain but hold – sustained by thousands of small acts of courage and the slow, steady work of justice.