TL;DR
- Veronica Clifford-Carlos is the first US trans woman to legally challenge the Netherlands’ rejection of her asylum claim
- She fled the United States after death threats over her gender identity
- Donald Trump’s second term brought new anti-trans policies, worsening her safety
- Dutch law sees the US as “safe” for LGBTQ+ people, complicating her case
- Dutch group LGBT Asylum Support says 20 other LGBTQ+ Americans are seeking asylum too
Trans Artist Takes On Dutch Asylum System
In a quiet corner of Heerlen, 28-year-old artist Veronica Clifford-Carlos is gearing up for a legal showdown that could redefine what safety means for LGBTQ+ Americans abroad. After years of enduring death threats in the United States just for being trans, Veronica crossed the Atlantic with her father—and without her beloved dog Lilith—in a desperate bid for political asylum in the Netherlands. What she didn’t expect was finding out she wasn’t alone.
“I had people screaming ‘f*ggot’ at me on the street. I had people threatening my life, threatening to follow me home and kill my family,” she said, her voice steady but defiant. Her life unraveled as anti-trans hostility exploded during Donald Trump’s second term. Since retaking the White House in January, Trump has gutted anti-discrimination protections and rolled back transgender rights, leaving queer Americans like Veronica feeling hunted in their own country.
Yet despite this climate, Dutch immigration authorities swiftly rejected her claim. Their logic: the U.S. is still “safe” for LGBTQ+ people. Never mind the death threats, or the public harassment. To win asylum, experts say, Veronica must prove the U.S. denied her protection—an uphill battle that could also ruffle diplomatic feathers between the two nations. “If you grant refugee status to somebody from a country, it’s also implied criticism on this country,” warned Marlou Schrover, a migration expert at Leiden University. “You’re saying it’s a non-functioning juridical system.”
A Community in Exile
While Dutch authorities cling to outdated assessments of U.S. safety, advocates say reality has shifted. Sandro Kortekaas of LGBT Asylum Support argues the data underpinning those policies predates Trump’s return—and ignores the political backlash against trans lives now sweeping America. His group is currently supporting around 20 other LGBTQ+ Americans seeking asylum in the Netherlands.
Official numbers confirm the trend: 29 Americans applied for asylum in the first half of this year alone, though their specific claims remain sealed. For Veronica, realizing she wasn’t the only one escaping the U.S. was both validating and heartbreaking. “It’s bittersweet,” she admitted. “It’s validating to see I’m not the only person who thinks something’s wrong. But on the other hand… it really has gotten this bad.”
What’s at Stake for LGBTQ+ Rights
Veronica’s case has grown beyond her personal survival—it’s become a litmus test for how Western nations will respond to the unraveling of queer protections in once-progressive countries. A ruling in her favor would send shockwaves, signaling that even wealthy democracies can fail their LGBTQ+ citizens. For queer Americans watching from afar, it could offer a lifeline—and a warning that staying silent can be deadly.
For now, Veronica waits. She walks the cobblestone streets of Heerlen, sketchbook in hand, balancing hope and heartbreak as her case inches forward. The Dutch court is expected to rule later this year. If she wins, it won’t just be a victory for one woman—it could open the door for countless LGBTQ+ Americans desperate for refuge. And if she loses? It will confirm the chilling message that no matter how bad things get, queer people from the U.S. are expected to endure it alone.