RILEY GAINES: I was hit in face by a man dressed as a woman for speaking out against trans movement

Riley Gains is a recent graduate of the University of Kentucky, where she was a 12x All-American swimmer and a spokeswoman for the Independent Women’s Forum

A little over a year ago, I wouldn’t have imagined being barricaded in a classroom in a building on the campus of San Francisco State University.

Outside the door, a violent, racist mob chanted threats against me.

“Open the door, we want Riley,” they yelled.

“Why are you protecting a white woman?” the crowd spat at security.

“This is revenge.”

“You’re protecting a transphobe.”

How had it come to this?

Just moments before I was hurriedly shuffled into a branch office, I stood in front of a crowded room and spoke about the disturbing and growing trend of biological men competing in women’s sports and attempts by radical activists to silence women who dare to speak up .

For nearly a year now, I’ve been traveling from campus to campus sharing my personal story of University of Pennsylvania race swimmer Lia Thomas, formerly known as Will Thomas.

Will Thomas was a mediocre male athlete. But in 2021, after coming out as “transgender,” Lia Thomas began to dominate the female competition. In the female category, Thomas defeated Olympians, American record holders and some of the most impressive women in sports.

Of course I knew this was wrong. But it wasn’t until I took on Thomas myself that I fully understood the depth of this injustice.

Outside the door, a violent, racist mob chanted threats against me. “Open the door, we want Riley,” they yelled.

I raced against Thomas in the 200m freestyle in March 2022. We bonded. We finished at exactly the same time to within 100ths of a second.

But after we stepped off the awards podium, an NCAA official looked at both Thomas and me and said, “Great job, tie. But we don’t take tires into account. So the trophy goes to Lia.’

I thought that was odd, so I questioned him. As it turns out, this may have been the first time anyone questioned why Thomas was getting special treatment. And the official’s answer shocked me.

He said Thomas would hold the trophy for photo purposes.

Then I realized that the NCAA no longer valued everything that I, my teammates, and all the other girls who were swimming that day had worked for all their lives. Excellence in women’s sports was no longer the goal. The goal was virtue signaling on the backs of women.

Then I knew I had to speak up. I wanted to be part of a conversation about what’s happening in women’s sports so we can find a way to accommodate trans-identified athletes without marginalizing or discriminating against female athletes.

Unfortunately, it seems that those pushing for trans inclusion in the female sports category are more interested in gagging and threatening their opponents than engaging in dialogue. These radical activists would rather intimidate their way into women’s locker rooms and women’s competitions than seek a way to create equal opportunities for all. So much good sportsmanship.

I am not afraid to confront bullies. But when I arrived at San Francisco State University, I expected the campus police to be there to keep me safe. They were nowhere to be found.

Nevertheless, the speech organizers and I walked to the room, and I delivered my speech to a packed house of supporters, protesters, and the mere curious. All the time I was speaking, I heard chants from the window and from the hallway: “Trans women are women,” “Transliberation,” and “It’s time to fight back.”

I raced against Thomas in the 200m freestyle and it ended in a draw. We finished at exactly the same time to within 100ths of a second.

In the room I was harassed, interrupted and insulted. But while this was disappointing, the protesters were basically peaceful — that is, until my speech ended.

After I finished fielding questions, a group swarmed in from outside the room, turned off the lights, and pushed toward me at the front of the room. I stood with my back against the stage. I was cornered and became more and more nervous.

A man wearing women’s clothing deliberately hit me – twice. The first blow fell on my shoulder. The second looked off my shoulder and hit me in the face.

Another woman with my group was also attacked. Later I saw a picture of a girl grabbing her face.

A female undercover officer from the campus, who I didn’t even know was in the room, rushed over to me. She was not wearing anything that indicated she was a police officer and her face was covered with a black mask.

She kept saying ‘follow me, follow me’ but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know who she was or whether she was trying to help or harm me. I stood there stunned for a minute.

Finally I was pulled through the door and pushed into the corridor – where I was cornered again. A woman stood in front of me – screaming in my face. Both sides of the corridor were blocked off, there was no clear exit. We couldn’t go anywhere. The police looked frightened.

Uniformed campus police officers pushed me away to a side lobby and office entrance, which was initially locked, as the crowd swarmed around us. It was in that office where I spent the next three hours waiting with campus security as the mob raged outside.

A woman stood in front of me – screaming in my face. Both sides of the corridor were blocked off, there was no clear exit. We couldn’t go anywhere. The police looked frightened.

As the hours passed, I turned to a campus officer and told him I missed a flight to Tennessee and wanted to leave. He looked at me and said, “Well, don’t you think we all want to go home?”

I have an incredible amount of respect for law enforcement officers, but these officers seemed scared. I got the impression that they were afraid to challenge these ambushes for fear of what might happen to them.

And there we sat, as protesters slammed the walls, chanted and yelled, “You’re protecting a white woman with white privilege,” and specifically insulted black campus police officers, who stood at the doors to protect me.

At 11:30 p.m., the San Francisco Police Department responded. They formed a cordon around me and we left the building and started running as the mob chased me in a waiting car.

At 2 AM I was back at my hotel. Shocked and exhausted, but not deterred. Because despite all the anger and intimidation, that mob failed. They have not silenced me, and they will not silence me. Their behavior did not detract from my arguments. On the contrary, it proved that they are hate-fueled misogynists.

And I won’t let them stop me from fighting on.

The truth is: this extreme movement does not want equal rights. They want to deny women’s rights – our right to compete, our right to privacy, and our right to speak out.

I hope that what happened to me in San Francisco will encourage more parents, athletes, coaches and others to open their eyes and their mouths.

Because when the crowd tries to silence you, it’s best to speak louder.