The two most recent Bureau of Justice Statistics releases, based on the anonymous National Inmate Survey conducted in 2023 and 2024, present a striking inconsistency. While the reports enumerate victims by gender, sexual orientation, and race, they hide any reference to transgender inmates as victims. Instead, the category “other” is used, and the only appearance of the word “transgender” occurs in tables that list perpetrators.
In the prison report, respondents identified as “other” reported sexual abuse at a rate of roughly 32 percent. The jail report shows a similarly alarming figure of 26 percent. These numbers are presented without any clarification that the “other” category predominantly comprises transgender people, effectively erasing their victimization from public record.
How the data was masked
The methodology footnotes explain that participants were asked whether they were transgender, yet the victim-demographic tables omit that label. The reports instead group transgender respondents with a vague “other” label while separately listing them as perpetrators in separate tables. This selective presentation follows a pattern observed in prior releases, where data on trans inmates was omitted altogether.
First-hand accounts illuminate the hidden crisis
Sara Kielly, a trans woman serving time at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility, describes the environment as “overrepresented and maliciously underprotected.” She recounts a decade of repeated assaults in men’s prisons, stating, “I have been raped by male inmates and by prison guards on numerous occasions. Each time I tried to report it, I either was made out to be a liar or that it was my fault because I ‘chose’ to be trans in prison.” Kielly’s testimony underscores the systematic neglect highlighted by the statistical obscuration.
Former inmate Rodney Roussell, who participated in the survey while incarcerated in Louisiana, labeled the process “grossly unfair” and warned that the administration’s stance has shifted from encouraging reporting to outright denial. He explained, “People just assume automatically that if you’re gay, trans, or whatever, prison is a daycare for you. I was basically every day fighting for my life.”
Attorney Jonas Caballero, now serving on the board of Just Detention International, adds that staff bias compounds the vulnerability of LGBTQ inmates. He recalled an assault at Rikers and a corrections officer’s comment, “well, I should have enjoyed it because I’m gay,” highlighting the hostile culture that persists despite federal standards.
Broader LGBTQ victimization and policy attacks
The same surveys reveal that lesbian, gay, bisexual, and other non-heterosexual inmates experience sexual victimization at rates more than seven times higher than heterosexual prisoners in prisons, and more than five times higher in local jails. This stark disparity aligns with criticism that the current administration is actively weakening protections under the Prison Rape Elimination Act, including proposed changes to screening and housing rules for trans and intersex individuals.
Legal analysts, such as senior counsel Richard Saenz from Lambda Legal, argue that the omission of transgender victim data is part of a broader strategy to portray trans people as dangerous, thereby justifying further discrimination. Saenz notes that while gay, lesbian, and bisexual victims are clearly identified, trans victims remain concealed, deepening divisions within the LGBTQ community.
Advocates like CeCe Herrera, another trans woman at Bedford Hills, lament that the administration “doesn’t see us as people” when addressing sexual violence, reinforcing the urgent need for transparent data and enforceable protections.
