Debi Jackson

“All things transgender” keeps getting tossed around as political shorthand. But what if it actually means something beautiful — freedom, self-knowledge, and dignity for everyone?

I unpack that here → debijackson.substack.com/p/what-all-t...

Parental Rights, Medical Evidence, and the Hypocrisy Around Gender-Affirming Care Parents deserve facts, not fearmongering — in Tylenol lawsuits or in decisions about our kids’ healthcare.

From Tylenol lawsuits to gender-affirming care bans, the pattern is the same: ignore the evidence, inflame the fears. The added twist is hypocrisy.

debijackson.substack.com/p/parental-r...

Thank you!

I *still* am hearing that. “The courts will stop them” and “just wait for the mid-terms” are new denialist phrases.

It’s where I’ll be holding it down for trans and non-binary youth and their families — through essays, personal stories, and straight talk. I'll keep posting here, but since people are jumping off social media platforms, it will be easy for you to read and share my thoughts farther and wider.

Welcome to Debi Downer Claiming the name, telling the truth, holding it down for trans and non-binary youth

For years, I’ve been called a “Debi Downer” whenever I spoke out about anti-trans laws or the real harm aimed at families like mine. Instead of rejecting it, I’ve decided to own it.

So, I've launched a new Substack called Debi Downer.

debijackson.substack.com/p/welcome-to...

Refusing to be silent is one of the most powerful forms of protection we can offer.

That’s why it matters that we speak up — every time we hear this framing repeated, every time trans people are painted as a threat, every time language meant to describe dignity and survival is twisted into a weapon.

This isn’t about preventing violence. It’s about silencing truth and making trans people afraid to exist.

Allies cannot afford to be quiet. It is our responsibility to name what is happening, to stand beside trans people when fear is being weaponized against them, and to use whatever protection our privilege affords us to resist this dehumanization.

The brunt of this rhetoric — and the actions that may follow it — falls on trans people themselves.

As an parent and ally, I have to say this plainly: while parents, doctors, lawyers, and other supporters may get caught up in this dragnet, we still hold privilege. We are far less likely to be institutionalized, criminalized, or subjected to the harshest punishments.

Even if the government only applies this label to a handful of people as an “example,” the damage is already done: the rhetoric alone isolates trans people, creates a chilling effect on allies, and reinforces the false idea that trans lives are a threat. Silence from others only magnifies that harm.

Doctors may hesitate to use correct terms with their patients. Parents may think twice about speaking publicly. Advocates may hold back from naming transphobia for what it is.

The danger here isn’t only in potential government action. It lies in how this rhetoric blurs the line between dissent and terrorism, how it can justify surveillance and intimidation, and how it spreads fear even if it is never fully enforced — and yes, that includes allies.

For trans people, the message is clear: your very existence and the words you use to describe it are being redefined as dangerous. That reality is terrifying.

This language is not extremist. It’s the vocabulary of identity, healthcare, education, advocacy, and survival. By painting these words as signals of terrorism, Heritage has created a framework where being trans and speaking openly about trans lives can be twisted into evidence of extremism.

Among their so-called “warning signs” are ordinary, everyday terms like cisgender, misgendering, deadnaming, Gillick/Fraser competence (a legal standard for medical consent), and even phrases like “right to exist” and “trans genocide.”

The Heritage Foundation’s “Oversight Project” is pushing the FBI to adopt a label they call “Transgender Ideology-Inspired Violent Extremism (TIVE).” They insist they don’t see all trans people or allies as terrorists, but the examples they use tell another story.

A dangerous new framing is emerging, and it’s aimed squarely at trans people. I’ve had a few allies ask me, though, if it really could extend to them.

Let’s talk about it.

There is no world in which it is normal for the president to publicly call upon his attorney general to hurry up and prosecute his political foes. It’s like the Watergate tapes but posted on social media. Let’s get a grip on what’s happening here.

PS — I chose the photo to represent that beauty and disruption are often found side by side. It's a reminder that safety and struggle can coexist, and that resilience often looks imperfect. Take care of yourselves, friends.

If you’re scared or stuck or struggling to see a future right now, please know: I see you. I haven’t forgotten you. I carry you with me. Together, let's continue to fight for a better tomorrow.

So today isn’t a celebration. It’s a quiet moment of reflection. Of honoring what we’ve lost and what we’ve found. Of holding space for those still fighting to feel safe in their bodies, their homes, their schools, their states. Of recommitting to the work of building something better.

We are safe. And we are grieving.

We are healing. And we are angry.

We are so incredibly fortunate — and we know how few people have the same access, options, or ability to leave.

It’s hard to sit in this moment with thoughts of happiness or peace. We're watching what is happening in the US, how quickly it’s happening, & we are so afraid — for friends, family, our community, & the thousands upon thousands of strangers being targeted in ways many of us never imagined possible.

We sleep with our doors open and don’t fear for our safety when we are in large public gatherings or walking at night. My kids feel like they have a future — one with options, with friendships, with happiness, with security.

But…I don’t feel like celebrating.

We have access to public healthcare and affordable insurance, so we can actually take care of our health instead of hoping and praying not to get sick or into an accident.

In the last two years, though, we've adjusted. Our bodies — our actual nervous systems — have reset. Our minds have had a chance to rest. Our emotions have had a chance to regulate.