Red Sullivan didn’t ask to be famous — she just came to fence. But when a cisgender opponent dropped her mask and staged a transphobic protest mid-match, the 22-year-old trans fencer became the latest flashpoint in America’s war on trans athletes.
Sullivan, a student at Wagner College with majors in history and education, was poised to face Stephanie Turner in the Cherry Blossom Open at the University of Maryland. But instead of fencing, Turner knelt on the strip and declared, “I am a woman, and this is a man.” The referee was having none of it — showing Turner a black card and disqualifying her from the women’s tournament.
Turner later pocketed $5,000 from a known anti-trans sports group, proving yet again that bigotry pays in certain circles. Social media lit up with praise for Turner from figures like JK Rowling — because of course — while Sullivan was left bewildered by the circus around her.
“I was flabbergasted,” Sullivan said. “Nothing like this has ever happened. If she didn’t want to fence me, she could’ve handled it privately — but this was clearly a stunt.”
Fencing isn’t about strength — it’s about skill
Sullivan, who has fenced in women’s tournaments for years without issue, was quick to point out what most people ignoring this story forget: fencing is a technical sport where brains beat brawn. “I lose to 12-year-olds all the time,” she quipped. “It’s not about pure strength.”
But for Sullivan, this moment isn’t just about one bout gone viral. It’s about a lifetime of being politicized simply for existing. “My entire life is political,” she said. And sadly, that’s the reality for many trans people in America — especially as anti-trans legislation floods the country like never before.
Turner’s stunt came just weeks after Donald Trump signed an executive order banning trans women from competing in women’s sports at educational institutions. The order painted trans athletes as threats to women — a tired and dangerous narrative that keeps showing up in locker rooms and courts across the nation.
In response, the NCAA swiftly announced that female competition would now be limited to those assigned female at birth — a crushing blow to inclusion in college sports.
A fight bigger than the strip
USA Fencing, to its credit, isn’t budging. The organization backed Sullivan fully, stating it “does not tolerate hate speech or targeted hate of any kind” and reaffirming its commitment to creating inclusive spaces for all athletes.
For the LGBTQ community, especially trans youth looking for role models, Sullivan’s grace under fire matters. In a world increasingly hostile to trans people, seeing someone calmly deflect bigotry with humor, intelligence, and sportsmanship is a masterclass in dignity.
This isn’t just about a fencing tournament in Maryland — it’s about the right of every LGBTQ athlete to play the sport they love without fear of humiliation or violence. As Sullivan put it best: there are “a million things more important” than a silly little tournament. But showing up, standing proud, and refusing to let hate win? That’s always worth talking about.