Front-Page Trans Sob Story in The Washington Post Skips Over Opponents

August 11th, 2025 12:34 PM

Anyone who didn’t know The Washington Post is still a leftist propaganda sheet should look at Monday’s front page, with a bathroom-bill sob story from Vermillion, South Dakota, that spilled over onto the entire back page of the front section with four color photographs. The headline:

Closing the books after a bathroom bill’s passage

A family found community in a S.D. town but left amid concerns for their transgender daughter

The author was Casey Parks, whose beat is clearly thumping a tub against conservative resistance to the LGBTQ agenda. On her Instagram, the openly lesbian reporter touted her last story about a drag queen “transitioning” to female in Texas:

So many of the stories I do about the kind of hopelessness that sets in when a state or our country makes laws limiting a person’s right to live as themself. The day Chloe and I first talked, pretty much every person I knew or interviewed was beaten down by a flurry of executive orders Trump signed to limit their rights.

The journalistic champions of “queerness” never imagine that girls have a right to use a bathroom without boys or men in it. That's "transphobic."

Parks touted that in progressive Vermillion -- home to the University of South Dakota -- "Nearly all of downtown's quaint brick storefronts has Pride flags in their windows," but Mike Phelan and his family felt they had to move to where their "trans daughter" could feel "safe."

This is the entirety of quoted words granted to conservatives and Republicans in this story, from Republican state Rep. Fred Deutsch: “Biology matters.” Two words. And this brief interlude:

Republicans spent hundreds of millions of dollars on ads targeting the trans community. Most Americans support restrictions for trans people, according to a February Pew Research study.

"Most Americans" got two words in this piece. Democracy dies in queer darkness. "Most Americans" can be classified as "bullies," according to Mike Phelan in a similar one-sided piece in the local paper, the Vermillion Plain Talk: "And that callousness — it’s like the playground bully doesn’t have trouble getting people to cheer for him as he’s beating up the other kid, right? If that’s the side that you want to be on, I guess you’re claiming that you’ll do anything as long as it polls well — I’ll bully people as long as it polls well — I don’t want to be a part of that.”

The "happy ending" of this story is that the Phelan family bookstore has new owners: 

Nova and Elias Donstad were a young trans couple who’d met after they both moved to South Dakota for school. He was a trans man who wrote poetry. Nova was a nonbinary person who worked at the local hospital. 

Nova’s hair was buzzed and dyed pink, and Elias’s fresh cut was a shade somewhere between blue and green. They were both quiet, prone to wearing book-themed T-shirts, but they worried some might see them as outsiders.

“We look like what we are,” Nova said one afternoon. “Visibly queer.”