TS Odessa is sentenced to 15 years in an all T-girl prison.
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Part 1: Entering the Criminal Justice System
The gavel came down hard; the cracking sound was so loud that it made me jump. But I was in a sort of haze, I didn’t really understand what was going on. I looked over at my public defender, his lips were pursed and he was quietly collecting his papers on his desk.
“What does that mean?” I asked and he looked over at me but didn’t speak, “I don’t understand, what did the judge decide?” My attorney sighed and put his hand on my shoulder.
“He sentenced you to 15 years without the possibility of parole,” he said glumly and the commenced collecting his papers again, “I am really sorry Odessa.”
“But I confessed,” I said, “You said that would get me leniency.”
“You could have gotten twice that,” he said and finished packing up. He lifted his brief case and slung his jacket over it. He looked down at me, “You should be happy you will get out in your mid-thirties, still young enough to have a life.” And then he walked down the center of the courtroom and out of my life forever. It was completely alone now, just me and 15 years of incarceration at a California State Correctional Facility.
And alright, I deserved to go to prison. That’s why I confessed, that’s why I threw myself on the mercy of the court. But I didn’t deserve this. I mean, none of this so-called hearing passed anything approached the sniff test. I was totally railroaded here.
Ok, let me step back a second and explain. My name is Odessa Ko, you might have heard about me. I had a hit song (“Love Me Now, Not Forever”) that briefly went into the charts (and was a minor viral hit on YouTube). That was about ten months before my arrest, right around my 18th Birthday. See, I’ve wanted to be a singer since I was little, and I was going after that dream tenaciously. When the song started to get some radio play, it was like a dream come true. I even got to buy my own song on iTunes! The critics didn’t really like my song. They said I was trying to get famous for being a sexy Asian girl with less than stellar talent. But I wrote all my own music, I was trying to be legit. And what Asian girl doesn’t want to be a sexy Asian girl? I didn’t think that was much of a put down.
Anyway, even if you never heard of me for my singing career, you probably heard about me on all those awful cable news shows. Yes, I am the “T-Girl Terror” or the “Shamed Shemale” that Nancy Grace and all those other assholes followed around for six months. I don’t deny I broke the law, but I am not the monster they made me out to be. See, I have always known I was a girl, always. It didn’t matter that I’d been born with a penis. My adoptive parents (I was born in Korea, but I was half Japanese, so I was not wanted), were very supportive of me and they paid for hormones and the surgery and stuff. They died in a car accident when I was 17, and I promised that I would make them proud of me. And at 18, when my song went into the charts, I looked great and felt better. I mean, I was a sexy Asian girl, you’d never know I had a cock. I mean I am only 5’1 and no more than 95lbs. I have long, straight black hair, soft Korean features and dark brown eyes. My body is girly (not quite womanly, I guess) with small 32-B breasts, a round bottom, and a very narrow waist. You’d never guess I have a cock (I never considered getting rid of it, I kind of liked it for some reason, just the rest of me was supposed to be girly).
All that was fine. I just wanted to pass as a girl and sing songs and be famous. Guys would claim to have sex with me (because everyone always claims to have banged the hot chick) and I would lie and say they did and everyone would just think I was a normal girl. Except, there was this one reporter. I guess he was kind of obsessed with me, and he started to research me. Somehow, he figured out that I’d been born a boy and was brought over from Korea as a boy. So one day he came to my house, he told me what he’d found out and said he was going to publish the story the next day, he just wanted my reaction. And he fucking got it.
I can’t really tell you what I was feeling at that time. It was like, you know, he’d torn into my life and was going to blow it up. For what? I wasn’t famous really. It wasn’t really pertinent to whether I could sing. It was just going to make people think I was some sort of freak. So I kind of snapped. I was living in my parent’s old house still, my dad had played for a company softball team, and his bat was next to the door. I grabbed it and just sort of went nuts. I hit the reporter in the face, and kept hitting him until I couldn’t lift my arms anymore. But I need to remind you, I am a little girl, 5’1 and 95lbs. This guy was 6’3 240. I mean, a pretty big dude. I couldn’t really hurt him. I broke his nose and he was pretty bloodied. But when the police came later, they said I was charged with attempted murder! I swear to God, I did not intend to kill that guy, just to kick his ass. He was trying to kill my career and reputation. And he is fine! His nose is healed by now! I think it was because, by that time, everyone knew I was transgender. I was a pariah, and I had to be punished. Not for hurting some reporter, but for giving boys a boner even though I had a dick. That was what made me sensational, and it’s why I got 15 years in prison without the possibility of parole.
* * * * *
“Welcome to San Sebastian State Correctional Facility,” the warden said after I’d been taken off the bus. It had been a very long ride from the county jail in L. A. to this prison in the desert. It was miserably hot outside, but it felt like the air conditioning worked fine in the warden’s office. I was the only new inmate that day, so she was greeting me solo. I was wearing my county lock-up uniform and sitting at a chair. My feet and ankles were shackled. A blonde, female guard was standing at the door. I felt terrified. I was about to be dropped into prison. And I had a dick. So I’d be in men’s prison. I was about to get raped. Repeatedly. And here I was, getting a calm welcome from the warden like I was applying for a job.
I was squirming and the warden was just rambling on about the rules. About when I could exercise, about what I could wear, about when I’d be out of my cell, about when I’d eat, sleep, and everything else. There were so many rules that I couldn’t bear it anymore. I just zoned out. But then she asked me a question that brought me back to the world.
“Do you know anything about San Sebastian?” she asked. I looked up at her though my hair and just shook my head.
“Few have,” she said, “Well I want you to know it is a relatively new facility. And the first of its kind. You see, California incarcerates more people than just about any other political entity on earth. We have 164, 490 prisoners here in the Golden State. Now, about 0. 3% of the U. S. population is transgender. That means that in a population of 164, 490, there are going to be about 493 transgender people. Now, for a long time, the state of California would simply put women like you in jail with men, and put female-to-male transgender people in the female prisons. This was done for a lot of reasons, but the point is that now; the population is big enough for it to make sense to make an all-transgender prison. And that is what San Sebastian is.”
I looked around, the place looked very new. Suddenly, I realized what she was saying. I wasn’t going to be thrown into prison with a bunch of brutal men that hadn’t seen a woman in years; I was going to be with my people. Sure, the kinds of people I’d always pretended not to be, out transgender girls, but still it was better than nothing. “you mean…” I began.
“Yes. The prison is broken into two spheres; you will be in the MTF wing with around 350 other girls like you. Then FTM wing has around 150 inmates, but you will not be permitted there. All of our guards are female, to decrease the chances of confrontation. Do you have any questions?” She asked. And I wanted to hug that ugly old bitch! I mean, I was still in prison, but I wasn’t going to be killed my first night. I knew some other t-girls, I could live with them.
“No, I am just…” I said, but I couldn’t finish.
“Relieved?” The Warden asked and I nodded, “Good. You are here to pay your debt to society, this will not be easy. But I never subscribed to the belief that violence or rape was part of your sentence.”
“I understand,” I said, and boy did I understand.
“Bethany?” The warden said, looking behind me to the guard standing by the door. The Guard stepped forward, “Please take Ms. Ko to the showers, get her cleaned and then find her clothes, and taken her to her cell.” The Warden then looked down at her papers and started to write. It was clear she was done with me. I felt so good; I stood up quickly, looked at the guard, and smiled. She smiled back at me.
She was a pretty woman in her early 40s. She was much taller than me, around 5’9 and very slim. She had large breasts and a big butt, and a youthful face. She kind of looked like the woman who would be your best friend’s hot mom when you were growing up. Like you were surprised that someone could look that sexy while being a mom. Well it was twice as weird with a prison guard.