Jack Jackson is a transgender man currently serving a twenty-year sentence in Texas prison. Jackson has served eleven years of his sentence so far, including the last ten years in solitary confinement. In 2014, he attempted suicide while on work detail by running at the guards, hoping that they would shoot him. According to Jackson, he “was in a real bad place mentally… and just wanted to join [his] mother in death.” Instead, Jackson survived and was sent to the mental health crisis center. From there, he went to the psychiatric hospital unit where he underwent three months of intensive therapy before being sent to solitary confinement in the administrative segregation unit, or AdSeg, due to an “attempted escape” classification.

In the following essay, Jackson describes the experience of being transgender in a Texas prison during his decade spent in solitary. Jackson told Solitary Watch that he wants readers to know, “It is hard enough being transgender in a Texas prison and adding to it the daily stressors of living in AdSeg really took a toll on my mental and physical health.” —Sara Vogel

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Entering the Texas prison system in 2014, I was assigned to a woman’s diagnostic unit to go through the entry process, which consisted of a basic medical exam. I was ordered right away to shave my facial hair and to grow out my half-bald head. My attempts to report that I was transgender fell upon deaf ears.

When I was assigned to AdSeg on the Lane Murray unit, a team of two male officers met me at the gate to escort me to my new housing. One of them made the comment that the unit now had a male prisoner. Both got a good laugh. As I entered my new home, this same officer yelled out, “Don’t worry Jackson, we won’t tell anyone you’re a man.” That was all it took for the rumor mill to begin saying I was male, and nothing I could say would convince them I was transitioning from female to male. Someone even spread misinformation that I had male genitalia.

Living in AdSeg means you have no physical contact between prisoners so there is no chance for physical altercations. The only way to get at someone you are beefing with is to insult them through roasting or verbal insulting by yelling obscenities out of the door. Somewhere along the way someone began using trannie (transgender) as an insult to those who were not transitioning. When being transgender became part of roasting, I felt very devalued and it was a great blow to my self-esteem and self-worth. 

At this time there were only two of us transitioning so I took it very personally that it had turned into a label of disgrace and shame. I felt extremely uncomfortable talking to anyone because all they wanted to discuss was me being transgender. Once again I felt devalued, embarrassed, and like the underdog. I had so much more to offer conversationally but no one was interested. I tried not to make any connections with people and spent the next six years all alone.

After a few months in solitary, I began the process of attempting to obtain my Gender Dysphoria diagnosis by submitting a Request for Medical Care form. Several days later, a nurse came to my door to ask me what I dropped off a form for. When I didn’t answer quickly enough, she made a disparaging remark and stormed off. So, once again, I submitted a request form. But this time, I also wrote a letter to the head of medical informing her of the rude treatment I had received and threatening to have free world LGBTQ advocates get involved if I was not seen in a timely manner. A few days later, I was taken to see the medical provider, received a complete physical, and was told I would be sent to see a gender specialist.

I received my diagnosis and started receiving testosterone shots. Once, when the officers were taking me to receive it, they told me the shots hurt and I better not cry. I didn’t even flinch when receiving the injection, and one officer said to the other, “You owe me five bucks.” They had wagered whether or not I would cry. I began exercising to build muscle and the male officers took notice and told me that whenever I wanted to test my manhood they had something for me.

Another aspect of living in AdSeg as a trans man was the sexual harassment from women who wanted to be in a relationship with me based solely on my physical appearance. They viewed me as one thing they couldn’t get in prison: a man. There was one particular lady that would stand in her door and watch me while she masturbated. Another wanted me to masturbate for her. Others would question me about my sexual history. I’m naturally a private person, so those types of questions felt invasive. This caused me to be very withdrawn, not knowing who to trust and feeling extremely lonely in an already solitary environment.

I was also constantly being harassed by staff about my facial hair because, at that time, even male prisoners weren’t allowed to grow beards. In AdSeg, we only had access to razors once a week during shower time so trying to keep myself clean shaven was impossible. I was even told to stop cutting my hair in the short style I preferred, which was a constant battle between myself and staff. 

In 2020, I was transferred to the Mountain View Unit to complete my ten-year AdSeg sentence and had to appear before the classification committee to receive my housing assignment. The assistant warden was on my committee and was so focused on why I had a beard that he almost forgot to give me my housing assignment. They took me to the dayroom where I was forced to shave, then taken to my cell.

The officers escorting me told me I’d never make it through cell block, but I proved them wrong. In close custody, I could “walk the streets” of general population where there was a greater level of acceptance afforded to trans men. I saw so many others like myself, but because I lived in cell block, I still got harassed about my beard. Still, I successfully completed my six months in close custody and was promoted to medium custody.

Around this time, the male prisoners won their bid to be able to grow religious beards and then my harassment ended. I was only given the opportunity to shave once a week, and at the rate my beard grows, it wasn’t possible to stay clean shaven. But I don’t believe the officials wanted to fight us about our facial hair after the men’s victory.

It has been a real challenge to be myself and not cave into the pressure to be like everyone else. No matter what unit I’ve been assigned to, I have been harassed about my facial hair and short hairstyle, both of which help me express my true gender identity. I have received threats of disciplinary cases and, to this day, have no positive relationships. I’ve struggled to stay focused and not fall into a state of depression. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now that my time in restrictive housing has come to an end, I’m preparing myself for what might lie ahead. Will I encounter more harassment or will my transition be smooth?