Bridget McCarthy believes that if her son Riley’s chart could quickly and easily use the suicide prevention hotline designed for queer young people, he might still be alive today.
The chart is a trans teenager who once endured bullying for being unique, who claimed his life at his family’s home two weeks after his 16th birthday during the Covid-19 lockdown in September 2020.
“I really believe there is a LGBTQ-specific one [help] He’s the number he’s in front of him, he’ll try. ” McCarthy said.
Riley is on the list with his mother, Bridget McCarthy.
(Photo by Paul)
State lawmakers will vote in August on bills that McCarthy and his sponsors can save the lives of other young queer Californians.
California Parliament Bill 727 will require students from public school in grades 7 to 12 and students from higher education public institutions to list the free LGBTQ+ crisis line operated by Trevor Project in July 2026.
The Trevor Project is a West Hollywood-based nonprofit organization that the federal government has canceled funding for LGBTQ+ consultations through the National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline (9-8-8). The Lifeline is expected to stop routing crisis calls to the Trevor project and six other LGBTQ+ contractors. It’s one of several actions in the second Trump administration, and critics feared to back down on progress in securing health care for queer Americans over the years.
“When the Trump administration threatens that they must cut the threat of the program thoroughly, it tells us that we must step up efforts,” Los Angeles’ Democratic Congress raises. “Our goal is to be a safety net, especially for those who don’t need this hotline to survive in Los Angeles, not in other parts of the state.”
California Gov. Eleni Kounalakis, the La LGBT Center and the Sacramento LGBT Center all signed the bill’s co-sponsors. Gov. Gavin Newsom told Politico that the Trump administration’s 9-8-8 decision was “irrefutable” and he also supported the bill. His office said the state’s $4.7 billion master plan for children’s mental health includes partnerships with organizations such as Trevor Project.
Gonzalez said the bill initially included private schools, but the authorization has been modified to respond to conservative opposition and is therefore limited to public schools.
With federal funds for LGBTQ+ crisis advisers, they called out on Thursday’s 9-8-8 lifeline, local nonprofits and elected officials vowed to fill the vacancy. Los Angeles County Supervisors Janice Hahn and Lindsey P. Horvath wrote a motion to explore the impact of the cuts and see if the county can help continue the service. The board of directors unanimously approved it on Tuesday.
“The federal government may reject LGBTQ+ people, but in Los Angeles County, we will do everything we can to ensure the safety of this community,” Hahn said in a statement after the vote.
According to a teen mental health survey published by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention last fall, about 40% of young queer people in the United States have seriously considered suicide. The Trevor Project and other organizations report an increase in the number of people seeking crisis lines in California and across the country.
According to new findings published this week by University of Vermont researchers, the rebound across Americans against LGBTQ+ people has been particularly shaken.
Their survey of 489 gender-diversity adults following the 2024 election posted on the JAMA Open Network on Wednesday found that nearly one-third of those interviewed would consider risky DIY hormone therapy if the treatment disappeared elsewhere. One in five respondents reported suicidal thoughts.
Riley charts with his father Paul Chart.
(Bridget McCarthy)
As a mother of a transgender child who died of suicide, McCarthy said she wanted to use the education she learned and advocate for the lessons of other transgender young people and their families in similar situations.
McCarthy, who lives in Culver City, has set up a memorial fund on the Trevor project, organized suicide walks in West Los Angeles and participated in Pride Festival to distribute crisis line information.
She remembers Riley as an art and passionate son who joined the LGBTQ+ group and set up a network of friends at high schools in Santa Monica and Culver City.
Riley has a therapist who supports him as a trans teen, but during the pandemic he found it difficult to cope with being unable to spend time in person with his friends. The imprisonment made him increasingly irritated. McCarthy said he stayed up late than usual and spent too much time on the phone.
After Riley’s death, the family found out that he texted his gay friends for help.
“The only other phone calls on his phone are a 10-veteran hotline number – he didn’t call,” McCarthy said. “That’s why you have to have a lifeline that talks to different groups of people. The Veterans hotline will not be available for 16-year-olds who struggle with their identity.”
When Riley was 12, McCarthy took him to the West Hollywood Pride Parade, hoping that he could experience the sense of belonging he longed for. He likes it.
Riley Chart participated in West Hollywood Pride in 2017.
(Bridget McCarthy)
“RY said he had found his people,” McCarthy recalled. “He was like, ‘That’s it – I’m home, mom.'”
When Riley’s mother was proud for the second time in the second year, he bought a trans flag and became one of his precious possessions. “When he left us, he was wrapped in it,” McCarthy said.
McCarthy spoke by phone from one of Riley’s favorite places, Lummi Island, Washington, near the U.S.-Canadian border. The family put Riley’s body on the island, and McCarthy went to the cemetery four times a year to take care of the maple trees he remembered, admired the powdered stones his friends placed around it, and talked to his son.
McCarthy said she and Riley visited family and friends on the island almost every year when they were young. Especially during middle school, when he was facing bullying from his classmates and the bathroom he wanted to use, McCarthy on the island saw her son’s most caring refuge. He likes to climb trees, swim and grazing cows, which is far from the pressure of childhood in Los Angeles.
“When you open the door, it’s like opening the barn door,” McCarthy recalls. “Like a foal across the field, he’ll run. It gives us a chance to be peaceful.”
