Idaho Anti-Trans Laws and a Teen’s Death: Exclusive Report
BOISE, Idaho — When a police detective asked Elyse Thorpe if anyone had wanted to hurt her daughter, she didn’t hesitate. “A lot of America,” she replied. Less than an hour earlier, she had found her 16-year-old daughter May Pollard dead by suicide in their home. The answer, captured in an exclusive NBC News investigation published July 18, lays bare the devastating human cost of Idaho’s years-long campaign of anti-transgender legislation.
May’s death on January 27, 2026, came after years of escalating legal and political attacks on transgender youth in Idaho — a state that has become ground zero for the national battle over transgender rights. Her story, told through interviews with family, friends, and court records, provides a searing window into how laws targeting a vulnerable population can have fatal consequences.
A Legislative Onslaught
Idaho has been at the forefront of state-level anti-transgender legislation. In 2020, it became the first state to ban transgender girls and women from competing on female sports teams. But the pace accelerated dramatically in 2023, when Gov. Brad Little signed two landmark bills: SB 1100, requiring public school students to use bathrooms aligning with their birth sex, and HB 71, the Vulnerable Child Protection Act, which criminalized gender-affirming care for minors as a felony punishable by up to 10 years in prison.
According to the ACLU, Idaho legislators proposed more than four dozen bills targeting LGBTQ rights in recent years, with Little signing 15 into law. In 2026 alone, the ACLU tracked 11 anti-LGBTQ bills in the state, with six passing into law — including measures restricting public expression, banning transgender people from bathrooms in government buildings and private businesses, forcing schools to out students, and censoring curriculum.
May’s Struggle
May came out as transgender during her eighth-grade year. She was diagnosed with autism and prescribed antidepressants. Her parents, both state employees who divorced when she was a toddler, supported her transition. Her father, Joseph Pollard, texted her immediately: “I support you, 100%. I want you to be who you are, and it’s not a problem with me.”
But Idaho’s laws created barriers at every turn. Because HB 71 banned gender-affirming care for minors, May was forced to travel to Portland, Oregon — a 13-hour round trip — for estrogen therapy. After President Trump took office, her mother drove rather than flew to avoid creating a federal record of traveling for transition care.
At Boise High School, SB 1100 forced May to use gender-neutral bathrooms that became known as the “trans bathroom,” effectively outing her to classmates. “I don’t want people to know I am transgender without my consent — even students who might be friendly,” May said in a court filing. “I find being forced to use a separate restroom ostracizing, and I feel like I’m being treated like this other kind of thing.”
The Lawsuit and Its Aftermath
Last summer, May joined a federal lawsuit challenging the bathroom ban under the pseudonym Jane Doe. She was one of only two remaining plaintiffs. In court filings, she wrote: “While I am transgender, I don’t view it as the defining feature of who I am as a person. I just want to fit in.”
May’s death led to the dismissal of the lawsuit in May 2026, after the other plaintiff graduated. Idaho Attorney General Raul Labrador declared victory in a press release that did not mention May’s death. When asked about it by the Idaho Capital Sun, Labrador said: “This is a personal tragedy and our hearts go out to the family. We don’t comment on the private circumstances of individuals involved in litigation.”
A Mother’s Warning
Elyse Thorpe had testified before the Idaho Legislature, warning lawmakers that children would die. “The parents go and testify, and we say, ‘Children are going to die,’” she told NBC News. “We tell the legislators that, and they dismiss it. I guess they think it’s hyperbole, or they think it’s hysteria, or they think it’s an acceptable outcome, probably some mix of those things.”
Research has consistently shown that transgender youth are at increased risk of self-harm, particularly when denied access to gender-affirming care and subjected to hostile environments. The Trevor Project, a suicide prevention organization for LGBTQ youth, reports that trans and nonbinary young people who report high levels of family support have significantly lower rates of suicide attempts. But Idaho’s laws have systematically dismantled the support structures that could help.
The Human Cost of Policy
May’s story is not an isolated tragedy. It is the predictable outcome of policies that advocates and medical professionals have warned about for years. “You worry about that hatred being internalized, and that’s what happened to my kid,” Elyse said. “It got inside.”
Her father, Joseph, told police in the aftermath: “There is a huge amount of animosity, every single day, thrown at trans kids. The whole country. The whole administration, every single day.”
May’s best friend, Emi Erwin, an 18-year-old trans girl who bonded with May over their shared experiences, described the emotional toll: “Sadness, confusion, despair, anger — anger is very prevalent, both at the Legislature and kind of the culture here in Idaho, but also at myself.”
What Comes Next
On March 31, 2026 — Transgender Day of Visibility — Gov. Little signed a law criminalizing transgender people from using bathrooms aligning with their identity in government buildings and private businesses, making Idaho’s bathroom restrictions among the most extreme in the nation. The next day, advocates held a sit-in at the governor’s office. Elyse stood outside, holding a small stuffed sloth and a photo of May.
“I wanted to support the protesters and remind everyone, including the governor, that the stakes are real,” she said.
May’s father keeps a tin of mints in his car — two left, one for him and one for May, untouched since the morning of January 27. “She had a lot to give to this world,” Joseph said. “Whether she was trans or not, this world would have been a better place with her in it.”
If you or someone you know is in crisis, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. LGBTQ young people in crisis can call the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386.