I traveled to Minneapolis last week to visit my children. Looking for a family outing, we decided to take in a roller derby bout. It is a fascinating sport; what was once known as a marathon-style race has evolved into a tactical, point-based scoring system. But what was equally fascinating—and perhaps more telling about the culture of that specific city—was the sheer number of trans athletes participating.

The theme of the night was undeniably inclusive. Shirts reading “Trans Athletes Belong Here!” were everywhere. A trans lawmaker even performed the “celebrity countdown.” It was immediately clear that Minneapolis leans heavily into this specific cultural vibe.

But as I watched the bout, I couldn’t help but notice the physical reality on the floor. The teams seemed lopsided. The trans athletes possessed a significant size and muscle advantage over the biological females, often dominating the flank floor. It begged the question: Do the biological ladies really feel they are getting a fair shot? Or is silence the price of admission in this specific social circle?

A Bubble of Normalization

Stepping out of the arena, I realized this wasn’t just about sports. In Minneapolis, this is the air they breathe. On the street, I saw a trans woman in a revealing dress; at Starbucks, I was served by a barista who was over six feet tall with a deep voice, presenting as female. It was everywhere—restaurants, malls, parks.

I am writing this now from a plane, heading to Tel Aviv, having just passed through New York City. I travel the globe for my work. I have seen the largest, most liberal, and most diverse cities in the world. And yet, none of them look like Minneapolis.

If I were to judge the human race solely on what I witnessed there, I would assume that heterosexuality is a rarity. It felt like a distinct bubble, a place where the demographics of the world were inverted.

The Pit Bull and the Cat

This environment reminded me of a video I watched recently. It featured a pit bull that had been raised in a home exclusively with cats since it was a puppy. Fascinatingly, this hulking dog acted just like a cat. It was quiet and demure, emulating feline nuances that should be foreign to a canine. The dog exuded a strange sophistication, having adapted perfectly to the only environment it had ever known.

I found myself wondering: If that dog were exposed to other dogs, would he find them repulsive? Or would he quickly find the community he knew in his heart he wanted all along? We will never know, because the canine has accepted his reality. He adapted to find acceptance.

The JoJo Siwa Effect

We see this “bubble effect” playing out in real-time with celebrities as well. Take JoJo Siwa, for example. She made history on Dancing With the Stars as the first contestant to be paired with a same-sex partner, effectively becoming a poster child for LGBTQ youth in the American media bubble.¹

However, once she was removed from that specific bubble and spent time in the UK for a reality show, her narrative shifted. Separated from the constant reinforcement of her previous environment, she fell in love with Chris Hughes in a heterosexual relationship. It makes you wonder: Was her previous identity a reflection of who she truly was, or was it a reflection of the “cats” she was living with? When the environment changed, the natural order seemed to reassert itself.

The Search for True Identity

Adaptation does not always equal happiness. Despite the celebration and affirmation found in places like Minneapolis, the statistics tell a tragic story. The transgender community suffers from incredibly high rates of mental health struggles. According to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey, 40% of respondents reported attempting suicide in their lifetime—nearly nine times the attempted suicide rate in the U.S. population at large (4.6%).

Acceptance by a peer group is not the same as internal peace. I can’t help but think that if these individuals embraced their God-given identity, they might find the “real them” they have been longing for all along.

Maturation and the Kool-Aid

As we grow, we cycle through various peer groups. Hopefully, these affiliations impact us for good. But a key part of maturation is the process of leaving behind groups that do not help us grow.

We are currently watching a generation of young people accept non-traditional mores and norms, not necessarily because they have deeply interrogated them, but because they are inundated with them. In cities like Minneapolis, they see no other reality. They are drinking the Kool-Aid because, in their world, it is the only drink on the menu.

True growth requires stepping out of the confusion, looking past the immediate cultural pressure, and finding the truth of who we were created to be.