EDMONTON — Football decals plaster the walls of his bedroom. A San Francisco 49ers bedspread and a binder full of trading cards make it clear the seven-year-old loves sports.
His mother says teachers know him to be kind, and kids in his class gravitate toward him. He wants to be an accountant.
He is also transgender and has identified as a boy since he could speak.
Because his family lives in Alberta, where Premier Danielle Smith is expected to invoke the notwithstanding clause to ban gender-affirming care for children like him, he’ll be forced to go through female puberty.
“We’ll be moving if she enacts that. For the safety of our child,” says his mother.
The family is an applicant in a lawsuit challenging Alberta’s legislation. Four other families involved in the claim as unnamed applicants or witnesses also spoke with The Canadian Press.
They all asked not to be identified for their safety. A court order protects the witnesses, and an affidavit from a psychiatrist says they’ll face isolation, bullying and even violence if identified.
Last year, Alberta became the first province to pass legislation banning doctors from prescribing puberty blockers or hormone therapy to children under 16.
The court later granted a temporary injunction against the ban after the five families and LGBTQ+ advocacy groups Egale and Skipping Stone filed the lawsuit, arguing the law is discriminatory and unconstitutional.
Smith has argued it’s about protecting children from making life-altering decisions and said she may use the notwithstanding clause to impose it. The clause overrides Charter rights for up to five years and would also reverse the injunction.
A leaked internal memo from the government says the United Conservative Party government plans to apply the clause this fall to the law and two others that require parental consent for children to change their names or pronouns in school and that ban transgender girls from competing in female sports.
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‘Hurts my heart’
The seven-year-old loves watching Edmonton Oilers games with his dad.
His mother describes the family as “rednecks” in northern Alberta and says she tried to persuade and manipulate him to identify as a girl, the sex he was assigned at birth, “hoping it would go away.”
It took a long time for her to accept what he was telling her, she says.
He’s too young to start taking puberty blocking medication. But waiting until he turns 16 isn’t an option, says his mother, as irreversible physical changes come with puberty.
She says the family may have to choose between leaving Alberta to access puberty blockers down the road, or staying and watching the boy confront a higher risk of suicide and mental health challenges.
“That really hurts my heart to think about my kids growing up without their cousins and their grandparents,” she says of moving.
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‘Something I can’t control’
The affable 12-year-old girl with long dark hair is quick to joke and speak her mind.
She says people who hate her for being transgender won’t change who she is.
“I’m not asking a person in general to support me,” she said. “I’m asking you to not hate me for something I can’t control.”
The announcement of Alberta’s law started a race against the clock for some transgender children to begin taking puberty blockers before it becomes impossible.
The girl got a prescription for the medication amid the lawsuit and is likely to be grandfathered into the old rules. The government has said the ban won’t affect those who already have prescriptions.
Between April 2024 and March 2025, about 2,000 people in the province claimed coverage for commonly used Lupron, which treats early puberty, prostate cancer, breast cancer and endometriosis. The government said it couldn’t provide numbers for what conditions the drug was prescribed.
The ban will only apply to gender diverse and transgender children, not those taking the drugs for other health reasons.
Smith has said her priority is to preserve fertility for children until they’re adults and can make informed decisions.
The girl says she doesn’t understand the premier’s reasoning for the law.
Last year, when introducing the legislation, the premier addressed those affected, saying they are loved and the government is there to support and lift them up.
“You show your love really weird,” the girl says of Smith.
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‘You think I’m doing this for fun?’
The slender, blond 15-year-old likes to dance and has decorated her bedroom with a globe and Marilyn Monroe posters. She says she “can’t not be trans.”
“It’s either that or no life,” she says. “I would be in some kind of straitjacket.”
She has known she’s a girl since she was two, her mother says, and socially identified as a girl when she started kindergarten.
“I’ve been in this game for a while,” says the girl, with the rising inflection of a teen, her long fingernails painted pink.
She began puberty blockers last year.
“There are people who are younger than me that we know, that are just as scared, that in the next few years will be approaching puberty. I was there.”
Her mother says she wanted to protect her child from the difficulties of being transgender.
But once she and her husband allowed the girl to socially transition and wear all things pink and sparkly, they noticed a massive difference. She went from being shy and afraid of other children to being an extrovert and “hilariously more funny.”
The government’s approach to transgender children plays on people’s fears, says the mother.
The girls says she wants to be a mother someday.
She visited a fertility clinic to try to preserve her options but ultimately decided to go on puberty blockers, feeling rushed by the government, but also knowing she can still be a parent even if she doesn’t have a biological child.
Puberty blockers are considered reversible. They temporarily pause biological changes, which can be restarted once their use is discontinued. If a patient later pursues hormone therapy, it’s considered partially reversible.
The girl says she’d live life as a man if she were able. But she says she has to be who she is.
“You think I’m doing this for fun?”
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‘Fertility doesn’t matter’
The 14-year-old girl considers going through male puberty her “worst nightmare,” says her mother, and has been prescribed puberty blockers to buy her time.
The mother says the government’s rationale for the law is irrelevant.
“Fertility doesn’t matter if your kid is dead.”
She says there’s an ever-present fear in the minds of parents of transgender children for their safety.
Having her child go through puberty will make her appear masculine. There would be physical changes, like a deepening voice and increased muscle and bone mass.
“Her risk of being murdered goes up exponentially,” says the mother.
She says her daughter just wants to hang out with friends and do the things all teens want to do including sports.
She declined to say what sport her daughter plays out of fear for her safety.
Alberta’s other law blocks transgender athletes 12 and older from competing in female amateur sports. School divisions have sent eligibility forms to parents asking them to confirm their children were assigned female at birth to compete on girls teams.
The government and advocates for its policies say banning transgender people from sport is about fairness and safety.
The mother says team sports have been a lifeline for her daughter, so the family’s future in Alberta is also up in the air.
“I have to figure out how I’m going to keep my child alive until I can get out of this province.”
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‘Do we stay and fight?’
The 17-year-old girl used to go out more, back when she wasn’t as scared of being in public.
“When we go out now, it’s super unnerving,” says her mother.
She says they joined the lawsuit to help younger transgender children who won’t have access to what she calls the life-saving medical care her daughter has been getting for about five years.
“My kid knows who they are to their core,” she says.
At the same time, the mother says Alberta’s political climate has made it difficult to be an advocate and show people they’re just like any other family. They enjoy board games and skiing.
She says her daughter is ready for the family to leave the province, but finding work elsewhere, the cost of moving and ensuring access to medical care puts them in a tough spot.
“When is it that we just have to cut and run because it’s no longer safe? Or do we stay and fight?” says the mother.
“We want to be in Alberta. We want to be here with our friends and family. But we need help to fight.”
This report by The Canadian Press was first published Oct. 13, 2025.
Lisa Johnson, The Canadian Press
