By Issac Young
I grew up in southern Indiana. When I moved to Chicago eight years ago, it was more out of preference and ease of access to the care I needed than feeling forced out. But today, I cannot legally move home without running up against my home state’s anti-trans laws which would prevent me from updating legal documents that match my identity.
We need to be talking about “transplants,” about gender refugees, and others who have felt pressured to move, either to access gender-affirming healthcare or to escape regressive anti-trans legislation growing more and more vicious in their home states. We need to be talking about the mass exodus of trans people across our country that so many are ignoring—according to MAP, over 401,000 trans people and their loved ones have moved from one U.S. state to another for safety since the 2024 election. And we need to be talking about Kansas.
The law passed two weeks ago in Kansas, which invalidated drivers’ licenses which do not reflect people’s sex assigned at birth, is about so much more than not being able to drive. It’s about the right to vote. It’s about accessing life-saving benefits. It’s about moving freely in one’s own country.
There is a forced geographic reorganization happening and the strategy of “let’s just take all the trans people, and put them over there” is a uniquely disturbing echo to hear as a trans Jewish person. Controlling where a certain group of people can or cannot go or live, through laws or access to resources, should be a siren alarm to all who claim to care about autonomy.
Some have said to me about my home state of Indiana, “Well why would you even want to live somewhere like that?” Indiana has been my home, and we all deserve the choice. I constantly find myself deeply frustrated with the well-meaning but cruel words from people who have never lived in rural or Southern states. The world we should want to build should not cut off places or people because we assume they can never understand us, because we assume that they could never be just like us. The world that builds queer liberation is the world that opens its hand in community, even if we still don’t understand each other. And the world that builds our freedom is one in which we all have basic human rights.
As someone who grew up in southern Indiana, I know that I can be a hypocrite. I moved away; in a lot of ways, I never really looked back. At the same time, however, there are so many who either cannot or do not want to do what I’ve done. Leaving our homes or knowing that you cannot go back is a painful feeling.
Because of what Kansas’s legislature has done—because of what Missouri’s legislature just did right after, I have never been more scared. My home state of Indiana, along with a host of other states, has revoked the right to update legal documents to reflect a person’s gender identity.
Are these laws those final red flags? I get regular, actual, advertisements promoting immigration to Canada—do I heed that signal? As the knot tightens, corralling trans people across the country to “safe” states, I feel like choking. Knowing that my ancestors fled from modern-day Latvia to come to Chicago over 100 years ago is ringing in my ears, and I’m sure many other trans Jews’ ears at this moment.
At Keshet, we are doing what we can to create pathways toward safety. We’ve established Move to Thrive, a partnership with Hebrew Free Loan Society, which is one of the only programs of its kind. The program offers loans to families seeking to move because of their restricted access to gender affirming care, or anti-trans legislation making it harder to exist. Since its creation in 2025, Move to Thrive has helped 51 people move to safer states. My home state Indiana has been one of the states with the most applicants trying to leave, along with Texas, Florida, and more.
I can’t imagine how many more families are moving without any financial support, putting themselves in deeply precarious positions in hopes of establishing themselves somewhere that might just be a bit more welcoming. Our situation is dire.
And so I have been disheartened at the reaction to Kansas being so muted with only trans people mobilizing to support those dealing with this. But as more and more horrific bills pass in legislatures across the country, it is not too late to join the fight for trans equality.
I have over 200 years of ancestors who’ve lived in a pretty small town in southern Indiana, with a cemetery going back to 1850. I can’t imagine a life where I won’t be buried with all of them. It’s scary, and it’s hard, and we have so many loved ones in our communities to go home to. I know too many LGBTQ+ people still living and making their homes in Indiana to act like any state is a lost cause. Across the United States, we deserve to make our homes anywhere. It’s our duty to ensure that no one feels like they need to flee their homes, not again.
Kansas’ driver’s license law was snuck last minute into a bathroom bill. In a similar tactic, last week Missouri legislators proposed three anti-trans bathroom bills. If you live in Missouri, you can take action today by telling your legislators to uphold trans rights and vote no. And if you live in Kansas, or anywhere else, make sure your elected officials know you expect them to advocate for LGBTQ+ rights, not erode them.
And please talk to your friends and community about what’s happening in Kansas, and Missouri, and why it matters to you. And use these Keshet resources and share them with your community: