‘Live my truth’: Transgender woman fights for rights inside Leavenworth men’s prison

Ayana Satyagrahi was five when she found herself playing in her bedroom closet and putting on her younger sister’s yellow sundress.

Now 49, she lives in a cell at the men’s prison in Leavenworth not much larger than that closet.

Satyagrahi is one of an estimated 2,170 transgender people under the supervision of the Federal Bureau of Prisons.

While she has had access to hormones and mental health services in prison, she said she’s often still subject to demeaning comments and threats to her safety.

“It’s hostile towards us in the BOP,” she said during one of a dozen phone calls with The Star. The federal agency limits calls to about 15 minutes.

“I live my truth within the best of my ability in this environment.”

Satyagrahi has been in the system since her 2010 arrest. In 2012, she was sentenced to 30 years in a sex trafficking case and has been at several facilities since her conviction, including FCI Leavenworth for the past three years.

She said the prison system has made some positive changes, but it’s been a slow process. And even though prisons have established more rules and processes to accommodate trans people, Satyagrahi, other trans prisoners and advocates say they’re often not implemented or enforced. And in some cases, they say they don’t go far enough to keep trans prisoners safe.

Scott Taylor, a spokesman with the BOP’s Office of Public Affairs, said the agency utilizes a gender-affirming model in its provision of services and “takes very seriously its duty to respect the dignity of all individuals in its custody including both those self-identifying as transgender and cisgender individuals.”

‘I kinda lost myself’

Satyagrahi was deeply confused about her gender identity from a young age.

“Literally at five years old I knew that something was not right about being feminine,” she said.

She was brought up in Black and Baptist cultures in Texas and felt like she had to “hide who I was.”

“That was torment,” she said.

There were times she went to school wearing “guy clothes” with female undergarments.

Throughout her upbringing, she questioned if she would be accepted, a struggle that forced her to fluctuate between her two identities and how to express herself. Back then, she “didn’t even have a name for it.” But now she knows she was experiencing gender dysphoria, a condition where a person’s sex assigned at birth differs from the gender they identify with.

She started acting out.

Eventually, Satyagrahi got into the sex industry in hopes that she could earn enough money to get on hormones, which she began taking in 2004, and undergo surgery.

But she still had bouts of apprehension about continuing to transition, and would stop and restart the hormones, which she said made her lash out at times. Her life spiraled. She didn’t know who she was.

Then she began recruiting women into sex work.

“I kinda lost myself because that was betraying another person,” she said.

She was indicted in June 2009 in federal court on a dozen counts, including transportation for prostitution and laundering of monetary instruments, and pleaded guilty in March 2011, according to court records.

Navigating life in a men’s prison

In prison, Satyagrahi has faced assaults and attempted to self-castrate, according to lawsuits filed in federal court. She said she is regularly subject to degrading language from corrections officers and other prisoners.

She said she has had to fight for accommodations, from getting female commissary items to showering separately. Sometimes she’s had to file grievances to force changes.

Other transgender prisoners say her efforts made a positive impact.

Brooklyn Hughes was sent to Leavenworth in the spring of 2023 for about nine months on a parole violation.

Hughes, who began transitioning in February 2021, said she faced discrimination, threats, people who asked for sexual favors and violence.

Some staff members were respectful and used her correct pronouns, Hughes said, but most “treated us like trash.”

Released in March, Hughes said she still wakes up in cold sweats as memories of Leavenworth churn through her mind.

Satyagrahi was a bright spot. She’s an advocate, Hughes said.

Most but not all of Satyagrahi’s family is supportive of her, including her seven children and her younger sister, who said she worries about Satyagrahi’s safety.

According to Kris Tassone, policy counsel at the National Center for Transgender Equality, 30% of trans respondents to a survey said they had been physically or sexually assaulted by staff or other prisoners in the past year. Other research has found that transgender people who are incarcerated have problems accessing hormones, hygiene and personal items; using bathroom facilities; and being housed in the appropriate facilities. Some have been placed in solitary confinement because of their identity.

“Each of these issues not only deny trans inmates their rights, but also create a culture of discrimination and increase the risk of violence against trans prisoners,” Tassone said.

They said trans prisoners should also get “adequate medical care, and those decisions should be made by the individual and their culturally competent medical provider.”

Policies not always enforced

The BOP has a Transgender Executive Council comprised of senior level staff members that offers guidance on training, transfer requests and surgery referral requests to the health services division.

Staff also undergo training pertaining to transgender adults who are in custody, and guidelines say prisoners should be addressed by the pronouns they use or their last name.

But just because the BOP has policies, Satyagrahi said it doesn’t mean they are implemented. In her experience, they haven’t been.

In January 2022, she legally changed her name, which was inspired by Buddhist teachings, in Leavenworth County District Court.

However, she said she is still called by her former last name. Her uniform still says her former name. She is listed in online BOP records by her dead name, the name she was assigned at birth, and as male.

She and others in her situation have suggestions they say would make them feel safer in prison.

Hughes said she would like to see transgender prisoners get their own recreation yard to “have a safe haven.”

Satyagrahi said she wants that and other changes, including pat downs conducted by female officers or a body scanner, the option for single-cell housing and access to surgery. It’s an effort she calls the Transgender Accessible Prisons Initiative.

Ultimately, she said she would like to be transferred to a women’s prison. Those requests have been denied. Every time she brings it up, she said, the goal posts for it to go through shift.

In addition to a transfer being considered a medical need, Satyagrahi said she has completed several programs, from conflict resolution to emotional regulation, as well as intensive therapy.

“I’m completely different from my past,” she said.

Tassone said facility placement is one of the most critical decisions for trans people in prison and encourages prisons to make those calls on an individual basis, and not solely on identity documents or genital characteristics.

Taylor, with the BOP, said housing placements are assessed on an individual basis. The agency discourages single-cell placement because it can be isolating.

Finding ways to feel free

Despite the challenges, Satyagrahi said she has embraced her identity. A long time ago, she decided she was going to stop hiding herself.

“Because of that, I’m freer,” she said.

She enjoys doing her makeup: eyeliner, foundation, brows and blush, which she is allowed to order through the commissary.

“It makes me feel more conformed with my gender,” she said.

She also has a job in the prison as a barber. Some of her clients are wary of her at first. But she said she has earned respect in the role and takes pride in making people look good, especially before family members visit.

But she still faces harassment at Leavenworth. Last week, another prisoner called her a slur. She tried to explain her identity as a transgender woman and then just let the situation go. When she gets questions about her gender identity, she explains, “I’m acting like me.”