“You Are Jealous of Me”: Transgender Athlete A.B. Hernandez Fires Back at Critics on Podium Amid Fierce Backlash
In a moment that has ignited fierce debate across the United States, transgender high school track and field athlete A.B. Hernandez stood on the podium at the 2025 California Interscholastic Federation (CIF) State Championships and directly addressed protesting high school girls and their supporters with a bold declaration: “You are jealous of me.”
The junior from Jurupa Valley High School in Southern California had just dominated the girls’ events, securing podium finishes in long jump, high jump, and triple jump amid protests, airplane banners, and even threats from President Donald Trump to withhold federal funding from the state.
The incident occurred during the medal ceremony on May 31, 2025, at Veterans Memorial Stadium in Clovis, California. As Hernandez shared the top spots—due to a last-minute CIF rule change allowing cisgender girls to co-medal if displaced by a transgender athlete—some female competitors and spectators expressed visible frustration.
Reports describe boos, turned backs, and silent protests from certain athletes who felt the competition was unfair. It was in this charged atmosphere that Hernandez, smiling confidently while holding her medals, reportedly turned to the outspoken critics and said the words that quickly went viral on social media: “You are jealous of me.”
Hernandez’s response was not just a retort to the girls on the podium but a broader statement aimed at the growing chorus of detractors who argue that transgender women retain unfair physical advantages from male puberty, such as greater muscle mass, bone density, and lung capacity.
For months leading up to the championships, Hernandez had been at the center of a national firestorm. Protesters gathered outside venues with signs reading “Save Girls Sports” and “No Boys in Girls’ Sports.” An airplane towed a banner with the same message over the stadium during preliminaries.
High school girls who lost spots or placements to Hernandez voiced their disappointment, with some parents and coaches claiming it robbed biological females of opportunities.
Yet Hernandez remained defiant. In post-event interviews, she emphasized her rigorous training regimen—no summer breaks, hours of daily conditioning since November—and dismissed the hate as misplaced envy. “I’ve worked just as hard, if not harder, than anyone here,” she reportedly said, implying that accusations of unfairness stemmed from jealousy over her success rather than legitimate concerns about biology.
On the podium, sharing first place in high jump and triple jump with cisgender athletes like Jillene Wetteland and Lelani Laruelle, Hernandez flashed signs and laughed with her co-winners, turning what could have been a tense moment into one of triumph.
The controversy surrounding A.B. Hernandez is part of a larger wave of transgender participation in girls’ high school sports in 2025. That same weekend, another transgender athlete, Verónica Garcia in Washington State, won the girls’ 400m dash and faced similar boos on the podium.
In Oregon, two cisgender girls famously stepped off the podium rather than stand beside a transgender competitor who tied for fifth. These incidents highlight a deepening divide: states like California and Washington allow athletes to compete based on gender identity, while over two dozen others have enacted bans following President Trump’s “No Men in Women’s Sports” executive order earlier in the year.
Critics of transgender inclusion, including figures like Riley Gaines and Martina Navratilova, argue that even with hormone therapy, male-born athletes often dominate, displacing female competitors from medals, records, and college scholarships. They point to scientific studies showing retained advantages in strength and speed.
In Hernandez’s case, she outperformed girls by significant margins in jumping events, leaping over 41 feet in triple jump—a mark that would have been competitive in many boys’ divisions as well.
Supporters, however, praise Hernandez for her courage in the face of relentless harassment. LGBTQ+ advocates and California officials, including Governor Gavin Newsom, defended her right to compete, calling the backlash transphobic and harmful to young athletes’ mental health.
The CIF’s unprecedented rule change—expanding qualifiers and allowing shared medals for cisgender girls—was seen as a compromise to ensure “biological females” weren’t fully displaced, but it only fueled accusations of special treatment.
As of November 2025, the debate shows no signs of slowing. A federal lawsuit filed by three California female athletes in September accuses the state of Title IX violations for allowing Hernandez to compete in girls’ track and volleyball, claiming they “could not overcome the apparent biological advantages.”
Several schools forfeited volleyball matches against Jurupa Valley rather than play against her. Hernandez, now a senior, continues to compete, laughing off the criticism in interviews and insisting the hate reveals more about her detractors than about her.
Hernandez’s “You are jealous of me” remark has become a rallying cry for some in the transgender community, symbolizing resilience against bigotry. For others, it exemplifies arrogance and a refusal to acknowledge the real impact on female athletes.
Social media exploded with the clip, with hashtags like #SaveGirlsSports trending alongside #LetTransAthletesPlay. Conservative outlets framed it as proof of entitlement, while progressive voices hailed it as a empowered clapback against bullies.
In a broader context, public opinion polls show overwhelming support for restricting transgender women in female sports—nearly 70% of Americans, including a majority in both parties. Yet in blue states like California, policies remain inclusive, creating flashpoints at every major meet.
Hernandez’s story echoes past controversies, like Lia Thomas in college swimming or Laurel Hubbard in Olympic weightlifting, but hits harder at the high school level, where young girls are building futures on athletic achievements.
Ultimately, A.B. Hernandez’s podium moment encapsulates the raw emotions of this cultural battle: triumph for one side, heartbreak for the other. Whether her words were a justified defense or a tone-deaf taunt, they have ensured her name will be remembered long after the medals fade.
As the 2025-2026 season approaches, with potential new federal guidelines looming, one thing is clear—the fight over fairness, identity, and sport is far from over. And for the high school girls who feel pushed aside, jealousy might be the least of their emotions.
