Jayce, Bree, Emma, and Sabrina: 63 Years of Dedicated Service
Focused on the Wrong Transition
We were all assigned “Airman” at birth, but we knew we were meant to be Guardians.
That’s the transition people should be talking about: our role in standing up the Space Force, building something entirely new to protect America’s interests in, from, and to space. We’re passionate about the mission to advance technology, cultivate talent, and shape institutions strong enough to deter conflict before it ever begins.
But instead of celebrating that, our nation seems obsessed with a different kind of transition, our gender.
It’s absurd. Our gender transitions made us better leaders, not pariahs. They freed us to bring our full selves to the mission, to serve with integrity instead of fear, to lead with an openness that invited others in, not shielding ourselves away. We became stronger, more focused, more effective. And the results speak for themselves.
Between the four of us in this photo, a tiny sliver of the transgender service members in the Space Force, we hold 63 years of combined experience, 12 academic degrees, 20 hard-earned promotions, and a staggering number of days sacrificed away from our families. We’ve earned awards, led teams, shaped policy, and helped prepare the future of this force. We were not just competent, we were committed; all of us were looking to serve for many more years.
And now, we’re being cut out. Not because of performance. Not because of conduct. But because of perceptions that we are somehow damaging to the force.
What’s happening isn’t a strategy for success in the short or long term. The military thrives on continuity, mentorship, and connection. The Space Force’s own core values highlight that: “The connectedness of a group enables it to benefit from the abilities of its members to achieve success far beyond the capacity of a single person.”
So what happens when you sever those connections? When you take a hacksaw to the chain of experience, talent, and trust?
You don’t just lose people. You lose capability. You lose readiness. You lose the very future you claim to be protecting.
That’s the transition people should be talking about: our role in standing up the Space Force, building something entirely new to protect America’s interests in, from, and to space. We’re passionate about the mission to advance technology, cultivate talent, and shape institutions strong enough to deter conflict before it ever begins.
But instead of celebrating that, our nation seems obsessed with a different kind of transition, our gender.
It’s absurd. Our gender transitions made us better leaders, not pariahs. They freed us to bring our full selves to the mission, to serve with integrity instead of fear, to lead with an openness that invited others in, not shielding ourselves away. We became stronger, more focused, more effective. And the results speak for themselves.
Between the four of us in this photo, a tiny sliver of the transgender service members in the Space Force, we hold 63 years of combined experience, 12 academic degrees, 20 hard-earned promotions, and a staggering number of days sacrificed away from our families. We’ve earned awards, led teams, shaped policy, and helped prepare the future of this force. We were not just competent, we were committed; all of us were looking to serve for many more years.
And now, we’re being cut out. Not because of performance. Not because of conduct. But because of perceptions that we are somehow damaging to the force.
What’s happening isn’t a strategy for success in the short or long term. The military thrives on continuity, mentorship, and connection. The Space Force’s own core values highlight that: “The connectedness of a group enables it to benefit from the abilities of its members to achieve success far beyond the capacity of a single person.”
So what happens when you sever those connections? When you take a hacksaw to the chain of experience, talent, and trust?
You don’t just lose people. You lose capability. You lose readiness. You lose the very future you claim to be protecting.
People like Sabrina Bruce, Jayce Saldivar, and Emma Webb are so talented, motivated, and inspirational that you can't help but have your spirits buoyed by spending a bit of time with them. Given the circumstances, I am so impressed by their resilience and drive.