At one point, Smith said she “took a break” from the team, per reporting on a student event covered by the Addison Independent. In January, a social media account called He Cheated focused its attention on Smith, deadnaming the swimmer. The attention led to an online harassment campaign against her.
“It’s really hard putting on the suit every day if you are obviously an outlier,” Smith said during a panel on trans health care and politics at Middlebury earlier this year.
Just for being a trans athlete, Smith faced harassment and adversity. But in February, the NCAA bowed to Trump administration pressure and banned trans women like Smith from playing on women’s sports teams. This sparked even more frenzy about the inclusion of trans people in sports teams, leading to a renewed wave of harassment against athletes like her. Of course, trans people bore the brunt of that harassment, all while understanding that their right to exist authentically was again being legislated away.
I want to be clear here: Banning Smith from playing on a team that she had already quit was likely not the reason that she died by suicide; but it’s long past time we have a serious societal conversation about how the politicized lives of trans people threaten the basic structures of life for us.
Lia Smith was an athlete her whole life. I, too, was an athlete in high school and college. There’s a certain rhythm of life you get used to and come to depend upon: Wake up, train, study, train some more; take care with your diet, get plenty of sleep; and socialize with your teammates. Smith did not set the original NCAA policy that allowed trans participation in college sports, nor did she decide to turn it into a national outrage that a trans girl might find joy in a women’s sport. Study after study has shown the positive physical and mental health impact that goes along with athletic participation.
