The staff of Mother Jones is, once again, rounding up the heroes and monsters of the past year. Importantly, this is a completely non-exhaustive and subjective list, giving our reporters a chance to write about something that brought joy or discontent. Enjoy.
When I listened to Chase Strangio, the co-director of the ACLU’s LGBT & HIV Project, become the first transgender lawyer to argue in the US Supreme Court, the moment was surreal. Here I was, wearing pajamas about 2,800 miles away from where he was making history.
In United States v. Skrmetti, Strangio argued on behalf of the petitioner that banning medications like puberty blockers and hormone replacement therapy for transgender, but not cisgender, youth is a case of sex-based discrimination. Experts argue that the ruling could affect not just trans health care but legal access to birth control, IVF, and abortion.
While the Supreme Court is meant to determine specifically whether sex-based discrimination took place, every step of the case and its arguments was steeped in the question of the treatment and its efficacy. Strangio could not help but embody this argument, writing in a New York Times op-ed, “My presence at the Supreme Court as a transgender lawyer will have been possible because I have had access to the very medical treatment at the center of the case.”
I can’t pinpoint with certainty the moment I first heard about Strangio. When I was a teen, still donning the pleated skirt of my all-girls school, I didn’t understand why it all felt so deeply uncomfortable. (Spoiler alert: the reason was transness.) I suspect that was around the same time when he was first thrust into the national spotlight as a lawyer in multiple landmark trans rights cases back in 2017. But I can say with certainty that Strangio was the first trans man I knew about specifically. While Laverne Cox and Jazz Jennings were figures I had seen for years, trans men only seemed to exist in an abstract, blurry background. Strangio was in sharp focus every time he spoke about his clients. With that energy, he has always made his height of 5-foot-4 seem imposing.
Born 42 years ago into a Jewish family outside of Boston, he transitioned during law school, embarking on a career amid highly gendered expectations. Ultimately, he wrote, “I found peace in my body, which allowed me to find peace in the world.” Now, he is a father and lives in New York City. Last fall he stood up to make his kid’s school district safer when Moms for Liberty tried to encroach.
Raised on the uplifting stories of Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Thurgood Marshall, I was primed by my lawyer mother to find revolutionary attorneys heroic and compelling. That may be part of why I was so taken by Strangio as a teen. But while his lawyering is obviously impressive, the essence of Strangio’s heroism always has been his bravery in being an openly and prominent trans man, and his feeling of personal responsibility in lifting others toward living their truth.
A Mother Jones 2017 profile of him does not follow him in court but at a tailor’s fitting with teen client Gavin Grimm. At the time, Grimm, a trans man, was seeking access to the men’s restroom at his high school. He sued his school, and the case nearly made it to the Supreme Court—which was the reason for a visit to the tailors—before it was sent back to a lower court, which ruled in 2020 that the school had violated his constitutional rights.
It is no exaggeration to say that Strangio has been involved with pretty much every monumental LGBTQ case of the last decade. He was lead counsel for Chelsea Manning, the WikiLeaks whistleblower who petitioned for access to gender-affirming health care in military custody. He also was counsel in the ACLU’s challenges to North Carolina’s bathroom ban and Trump’s trans military ban. This was Strangio’s first time presenting oral arguments to the Supreme Court, but it wasn’t his first time in the court. He was one of the lawyers involved in the 2018 case, R.G. & G.R. Harris Funeral Homes v. EEOC, which led to the historic SCOTUS ruling finding that the 1964 Civil Rights Act’s prohibition on sex discrimination in employment extended to discrimination against LGBTQ workers. So it was only natural that when it came time for an attorney to argue the Skrmetti case, he would be selected. As Cecillia Wang, ACLU legal director, said, “Chase Strangio is our nation’s leading legal expert on the rights of transgender people, bar none.”
Journalist Evan Urquhart was one of a handful of trans people in the court on December 4, 2024, for the arguments. As he watched, he wrote, “Trans stories, and the lives of ordinary trans people, kept coming back to my mind, as I listened to nine cisgender justices debate with two cis lawyers and Chase Strangio about the finer points of what does and does not constitute a law that makes sex-based classifications.”
Those “ordinary trans people” gathered virtually and in person to watch Strangio make history and assess the potential outcome of a case that will have lasting consequences on both transgender and sex-based discrimination. Outside the court, trans people and advocates were bundled tight and practically huddled together to protect themselves against the bitter cold.
After the arguments ended, Strangio left the court and told hundreds of trans folks and allies, “I know we have been the subject of relentless and unjustified attack. But here is the thing, we are in it together.” I watched this clip much later, after an exhausting day of reporting and speaking on trans rights. And even though I am proudly out and surrounded and supported by my trans community, my work in covering the attacks on trans rights—much like being a lawyer championing these issues—can be draining.
No matter how the case is resolved—which looks bleak amid a conservative majority—Strangio bravely living his truth remains one of the most powerful aspects of the day in and outside the Supreme Court. “If nothing else, I’ve lived this health care. It has enabled me to stand before them at that lectern,” he told New York magazine before the arguments. “So that is a truth that is undeniable, that will be present in the courtroom, that certainly the other trans people who will be present in the courtroom will understand.”
As we await the assaults on our identity that are sure to come, knowing he’s around offers me the same reassurance as when I was a teenager. Strangio just makes me feel braver. “I love being trans,” he said to the crowd outside the Supreme Court. “I love being with you. And we are going to take care of each other.”