I’m a Transgender Woman Living in a Men’s Prison

My name is Stacey and I’m a transgender woman living in a men’s prison. I wanted to share some of the heartaches and triumphs I’ve experienced while on the inside, and I don’t mean the inside of my mind where I was trapped for 30 years. Prison can be an amazing place to experience the true and real nature of human life. Which includes bad behavior along with the extraordinarily good character of many individuals who live in a habitat hidden away in today’s society. This experience of such a place can be heightened for someone who has a spotlight on themselves which leads to notability by the community.

I spent the first 14 years of incarceration almost invisible. To the best of my ability I blended in, to divert conflict from officers and inmates. For a long time I went unnoticed by the majority of this hidden society. Less than one year ago I revealed myself as who I truly am. I released myself from the prison of my mind. When I did, the entire community saw me. It became overwhelming and yet therapeutic to my birth defect.

However, a fear began to settle in as the attention grew. The lack of recognition by the unit’s administrative staff. There are many things that any transgender faces in prison, and the lack of administrative recognition for even just a short period of time can feel and be devastating.

“The grey area”

The grey area is the point something is obvious of what is, yet not formally on any file. I had been diagnosed with Gender Dysphoria by a psychiatrist and I had visits with the psychology department leading up to my diagnosis. Both of which are under the privacy policies of medical care. However, both departments explained to me about what having transgender on my prison profile would include and with my permission, which I gave, they both attempted to send notifications to the proper department which handles this process.

The grey area. I began my hormone replacement medications. I had been dressing as close to feminine as I could for 7 months, considering being limited due to incarceration. I slowly began to build confidence about myself. I felt a sense of security. Don’t get me wrong, anyone who knows the full extent of Gender Dysphoria knows that the emotions and feelings shift like tides of the ocean. Not all days did I feel in a positive way. Yet the contentment of who I am grew. Two months passed and still no administrative recognition despite my many requests leading all the way back to those first words, “I’m a woman on the inside.”

I had buried myself with support from friends who lived on the block I lived, which generated a sense of security. I became comfortable yet still concerned. Out of nowhere one day, a mass move was done on that block. The administration was changing the block into a Military Veterans block, and I was handed a move slip to be transferred to the opposite end of the unit and to a block notoriously known as where many of the troublesome inmates are temporarily housed just after obtaining a lower custody status. I know this because one year before my transition, I had moved from this block after being assigned to it for 7 years due to my custody level upon prison intake, not because of disciplinary reasons.

When I carried my property past the windows of the surrounding blocks at this end of the building that I hadn’t lived at for a long time, many inmates took recognition by turning heads. The second I stepped onto the block I was being transferred to, I heard several uncomfortable comments that instantly generated a fear. That fear grew when I thought about the possibility that administration had no idea they just unknowingly housed me in a location that has no other transgenders. Less than 24 hours later, I went to a ranking officer in fear for my own safety. I was yelled at and strip searched by a Lieutenant for going back and forward down the hall.

I was told by the Major that I was “starting off on the wrong foot.” I pleaded, saying that the Captain had radioed me to his office. When I spoke with Safe Prisons staff, I was placed in isolation for 5 days, and still no recognition on my file. Before leaving isolation, an inmate must be reviewed by classification. During this visit I broke down in tears, expressing my concern to have transgender placed on my file in hopes to prevent any future possible dangers.

The Major was surprised that I had been on this unit for 8 years. “I had never seen you before that day in the hall,” he had said. He then typed something in the computer to indicate that that might help. I was then taken back to my isolation cell and later that day, I was moved right back to the same block that I feared. Immediately I wrote a grievance with legal references about the lack in recognition, and I sent more requests. I spent the next several days mostly in my cell, only going to lunch.

A few friends came and told me that the block had shifted. An effect due to the creation of the Veterans block, inmates being shuffled around. I slowly began to emerge from my dwelling and just a few days into my ventures, Administration called me to their office. I had finally been heard. I had finally been seen. I have gained my rights as a transgender in prison.