Beautiful. Worthy. Kind. "Koko’s" Fight for Humanity in Prison
- Elizabeth Sinofsky
- Sep 23
- 4 min read

When we talk about prison, most people imagine steel bars, rigid routines, and long sentences. But for transgender people incarcerated in California, the reality is far more dangerous. Despite state laws designed to protect them, trans women and men continue to face staggering rates of sexual violence, systemic bias, and daily threats to their dignity and safety. The data makes it impossible to ignore:
What the Data Says | Source | Notes / Key Figures |
Sexual Assault Rates: 59% of transgender prisoners in California report experiencing sexual assault in prison, compared to ~4.4% of the general prisoner population. | In some investigations, rates climbed as high as 75%. | |
Housing & Gender Identity: Under SB 132 (Transgender Respect, Agency, and Dignity Act), incarcerated transgender, nonbinary, and intersex people are legally allowed to request housing and searches consistent with their gender identity. | Despite this, many report unsafe placements. | |
Bias in Parole Hearings: In a review of 42 parole hearing transcripts for transgender people (Jan 2021–Feb 2022), ~43% included misgendering or biased comments. | Shows systemic bias in official proceedings. | |
Population Growth: The population of transgender inmates in California increased by 234% since the state adopted its gender-affirming health care policy. | Reflects greater visibility and medical access. | |
Unsafe Environments: Despite SB 132, many trans women continue to report being housed in men’s prisons, facing violence and staff abuse. |
These numbers are more than statistics; they represent real lives, lived in constant negotiation between survival and selfhood. Behind every percentage is a human being with a name, a voice, and a story. One of those stories belongs to Leilani Koko Kalea- “Koko”- a transgender woman navigating the brutal reality of incarceration while holding onto her truth.
Here is her own story....
Hello, my dead name is Santiago Contreras. But now I go by Leilani Koko Kalea. I am currently serving a 15-year-to-life sentence for 2nd degree murder. During this term, I have learned so much, because identifying as Transgender in prison for the first time has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with in my life. Keeping how I identify a secret from my wife of 20 years was much easier than having to handle the everyday challenges of being who I truly am in a California men’s institution.
I wake up every day in fear of being stalked, raped, bullied, harassed, assaulted, and discriminated against. These are just some of the things that the Transgender community goes through daily. The correctional officers who are paid to protect me, I fear, just as much as I do the inmates. I’ve been discriminated against, threatened, cursed at, and even forced to strip in front of a male officer. Even though we have laws that protect us, the officers here choose not to obey them. Reporting PREA incidents has become a huge fear of mine, due to correctional officers threatening to move us if we have any security concerns, and even going as far as saying that we “asked for it.”
I feel all alone. No one deserves to be treated differently just because they identify as a different gender. I am working on my insecurities, but when people discriminate against and harass you every day, it makes it so hard not to let those hateful words affect me. But God has recently blessed me and brought a group of gentlemen into my life who have taken it upon themselves to facilitate self-help, peer-to-peer groups that teach you how to love yourself and how to recognize your feelings and emotions before you act on them. These gentlemen have accepted the community and have shown me so much love and respect.
They have truly become my confidants. I am now able to open up and share my feelings and emotions without fear of being judged or treated differently. They treat me like a human being, and this simple act of kindness is helping me change the way I think about myself and the way I view everyone else. I hope that more people open up and take the time to get to know us better before they decide to just hate us because of the warped belief systems they still hold on to.
I just want people to know that being Transgender is not a lifestyle, it’s who we are. It’s not a choice. No one would choose to go through this torment if it wasn’t who they truly were.
I am a regular human being with feelings and emotions. Those hateful words and discriminatory ways only affect me today and scar me forever.
Although I’ve gone through all these experiences, I’ll never regret being who I am today, inside or outside these walls. Because I am beautiful. I am worthy. And I am the kindest person you will ever meet. If you just take the time to listen and understand me, you may see that everything I’ve said is 100% true for yourself.
With much L & R,
Leilani Koko Kalea
Koko’s story shatters the illusion that laws alone can guarantee safety. Numbers reveal a crisis, but her words reveal the cost: daily fear, systemic neglect, and survival against all odds. To hear her is to be confronted with choice, will we allow this cycle of harm to continue, or will we demand accountability?
I am profoundly proud of the RISE community leaders and collaborators who have embraced the responsibility of reaching out to marginalized communities inside, showing what dignity in action truly looks like. Supporting Koko means raising our voices with hers until change is not just promised but delivered, and until every life behind bars is valued, protected, and seen.



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