This is the third of three stories that chronicles the stories of transgender women who say they were abused by the prison system, as well as difficulties they face when reentering society. Read about the experiences of some women in prison and the obstacles they face when reentering society in parts one and two.
When Mohagany Foster stepped out of a North Carolina prison in 2024, she promised herself this would be the last time. Having a mentor she could connect with to help her through tough times would have helped her, she says. But as a Black transgender woman, there really wasn't anyone that fully understood her struggles.
So she decided to become that mentor for the next person that looks like her. In 2022, while still incarcerated, she launched Mohagany's Mission, which "exists to uplift and support formerly incarcerated transgender women and gender-expansive individuals," according to its website.
For years, Foster says, her main options for help upon reentry were predominantly white or cisgender spaces that discriminated against Black trans women.
"Going inside those places was not a choice for me," she said.
That's why, with Durham-based Mahogany's Mission, "we have Black trans people in leadership here," she said. "We want people coming out of prison … to see themselves in us." As a formerly incarcerated Black trans woman, she says she knows how to help her community best.
With support and a little stability, some transgender women are able to find careers after they leave prison. In earlier stories in this series, WUNC told the stories of Toyia Dockery and Mohagany Foster, who faced hardships both in and out of prison. More recently, both have found some successes mixed with further hardship.
Dockery was able to secure a job in truck driving. Then she lost that job, and briefly had to scramble to find a new one. She finally got one at a warehouse, though says she's facing resistance in being allowed to use the women's restroom there. She says she's being asked to have sexual reassignment surgery before being allowed to use the women's restroom, a procedure she doesn't wish to undergo. Subsequently, she often has to use a farther, gender neutral restroom.
Straite worked multiple positions in different warehouses. Now, she's at Alamance Community College studying American history, sociology, and diversity. When she began to fall behind on schoolwork and bills, ACC stepped in to help.
"I was lucky," she said. Without that help, she might've fallen down the reentry cycle outlined in part two of this series.
Still, life has not always been easy for Foster. She has an apartment of her own, but, often unable to pay the electricity bill, she says she's spent many nights this winter sleeping in her car for warmth. Just pooling together the money for gas, she details, has been difficult. The Orange County Rape Crisis Center has stepped in to support her for the mean time. She has also set up a GoFundMe to help with her reentry.
To help prevent this cycle from happening to others, Mahogany is working toward providing housing for reentering trans people. Foster also hopes to provide currently incarcerated trans people with gender-affirming care that, following the recent passage of N.C. House Bill 805, state dollars will no longer go to support.
"What little access to hormones or to gender-affirming clothing" she had, Foster says, was vital. And while their focus is on trans women, they're "committed to meeting the needs of all trans people impacted by incarceration, including trans men," she said in an email.
The organization is in its early days — Foster started it in 2023 while still in prison, incorporating it as a 501c3 non-profit last year. Long term, she hopes to build a transitional home for reentering trans people. But that requires sustainable funding, which Mohagany's Mission has been struggling to find, Foster says.
So in the short term, they're focusing on providing trans people impacted by the carceral system with food, shelter, and support in getting a job and adequate healthcare. Even that is proving difficult — the organization is in its fledgling stages, with Foster still looking for groups to help guide her through the unfamiliar process.
Without external support, "it's very hard" to reenter as a trans woman in N.C., she said. Foster herself still struggles to make rent every month. With her Mission, she hopes to change that reality for herself and others.
For now, the state has a long way to go before it can claim to fulfill the mission statement on Reentry 2030's website — "Breaking the Cycle" — for all North Carolinians. But women like Dockery, Straite, and Foster are laying a road map to get there.
