A New Frontier in Firearms: Where Inclusivity Meets the Shooting Range
This isn’t the story I initially set out to tell. My initial plan was to paint a picture of a unique firearms competition – a space where queer individuals and their allies gathered, a place where bigotry was explicitly unwelcome, and a vibrant tapestry of subcultures, from polyamory to Mad Max-inspired cosplay, flourished under the banner of pro-LGBTQ+ and Black Lives Matter ideals. But then, tragedy struck. The death of Charlie Kirk cast a long shadow, prompting a re-evaluation of the safety and implications of sharing such a story, particularly for the marginalized individuals I had intended to highlight.
Yet, the need to tell this story remains, even as its undertones grow more somber. The landscape of gun culture in America is evolving, and a new generation of enthusiasts is redefining what it means to be a firearm owner. This is a narrative about people who are often relegated to the fringes of society, finding a sense of belonging and empowerment in an unexpected arena: the shooting range.
A Desert Oasis of Diversity and Dexterity
Imagine this: it’s late July, the air thick with the scent of dust and gunpowder in the stark beauty of Parma, Idaho. I found myself riding along in a makeshift golf cart, a surreal bubble of camaraderie amidst the rugged landscape. Two competitive shooters, young and incredibly online, were engaged in a playful, yet telling, debate: who was the more marginalized of the two? One, a 22-year-old YouTuber known as Gun Bunny, identifies as Russian Jewish, poly-pansexual, and navigates the challenges of Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, autism, and ADHD. Her companion, the driver, is Indigenous-Mexican, Slovak Jewish, transgender, and chronically ill. As the dust settled around us, Gun Bunny declared her friend the winner, with a wry comment about Slovak heritage trumping her own. The driver, with a shared laugh, quipped, “even the Russians screwed us.” Their lighthearted banter quickly shifted to a mission: “So what you’re saying is we should team up to defeat Nazis.”
This exchange, while delivered with a dose of dark humor, encapsulates the spirit of the High Desert Brutality match. This isn’t your typical shooting competition; it’s more akin to a post-apocalyptic Burning Man, where marksmanship is just one element of a much larger, more engaging experience. Participants tackle grueling physical challenges – throwing 58-pound kettlebells, hauling heavy jugs, navigating trenches, and hitting targets from a speeding, weaponized buggy – all under the relentless Idaho sun. The atmosphere is infused with a leftist ethos, celebrating themes like “a workers’ rights uprising on Mars,” complete with elaborate set designs and vibrant cosplay. Gun Bunny, for example, was clad in an impressive, self-made Dune-inspired stillsuit.
This event is one of the most demanding shooting competitions I’ve ever witnessed, and, remarkably, one of the most inclusive I’ve attended. Many of the 135 participants have traveled great distances to be here. While shooting contests are plentiful in America, the Brutality matches stand out. Their difficulty and the sheer effort put into their staging are undeniable, but what truly sets them apart is the conscious effort to ensure that minorities don’t feel like outsiders.
“We will welcome with open arms anyone that isn’t hateful,” states Karl Kasarda, the event’s organizer. A prominent figure in the firearms community, known on YouTube as a “guntuber,” Kasarda, with his distinctive salt-and-pepper undercut, embodies a unique blend of subcultures, from hacking and industrial music to a past stint as a minister for the Satanic Temple. He eschews the title of “leader,” preferring to describe himself as someone who “flirts” with anarchy and has a “problem with authority.” Regardless of his self-appellation, there’s no doubt he’s been instrumental in cultivating this alternative gun community, which he and others affectionately dub the “punk rock outsiders of the shooting community.”
Challenging the Status Quo, One Bullet at a Time
Kasarda’s influence began about a decade ago with his YouTube channel, InRange TV, which has amassed a loyal following of nearly a million subscribers. His content often delves into the forgotten history of firearms, exploring narratives that he believes many conservatives in the gun world would prefer to overlook. These include accounts of slave revolts, instances where Native American tribes heroically resisted the Ku Klux Klan, and even tales of a potentially transgender midwife serving in Colonel George Armstrong Custer’s cavalry. The channel’s explicit mission statement declares it is “actively anti-racist, pro human liberation and LGBTQ+ rights.” Kasarda is a fervent advocate for “2A For All,” championing the belief that universal access to firearms, particularly for marginalized communities, is a fundamental right.
These progressive stances have not gone unnoticed, nor have they been met with universal approval. Kasarda’s views have ignited fierce opposition from right-wing gun enthusiasts, leading to years of vitriolic discussions on forums like AR15.com and Kiwi Farms, the latter notorious for its harassment of transgender individuals. “We don’t want to talk about marginalized communities depending on firearms because we don’t like the marginalized communities,” Kasarda observes, accurately pinpointing the prevailing sentiment among some factions of the right.
The current political climate, particularly under the Trump administration, has amplified these tensions. Following the former president’s re-election, left-leaning and LGBTQ+-focused firearms organizations and training programs, such as the Liberal Gun Club and the Pink Pistols, reported significant surges in interest and participation. In early September, news emerged that the Department of Justice was reportedly considering a ban on firearms for transgender individuals. This potential policy shift prompted a swift response from a prominent transgender gun content creator, who urged transgender Americans considering firearm purchases to act immediately.
The Shadow of Misinformation and Fear
The tragic death of Charlie Kirk, shortly before my visit to the Idaho range, cast an even longer shadow over these conversations. Kirk, just moments before he was fatally shot, perpetuated a harmful myth, telling an audience at a Turning Point USA event that “too many” transgender Americans had been mass shooters in the last decade. This assertion is starkly contradicted by data from the nonprofit Gun Violence Archive, which indicates that between January 2013 and September 2025, there were only five confirmed transgender or nonbinary mass shooters – accounting for less than 0.1% of the 5,748 mass shootings tracked during that period.
Tragically, neither this data nor the fact that the suspect in Kirk’s killing was not transgender has deterred the right-wing narrative from using his death to further its agenda against transgender Americans. Fueled by an initial, inaccurate report from The Wall Street Journal, which cited a federal memo suggesting “transgender and anti-fascist ideology” was found carved into bullet casings at the scene, prominent Republicans have publicly called for transgender individuals to be institutionalized or barred from the internet. The Heritage Foundation, a conservative think tank that published Project 2025, a policy blueprint for a potential Trump administration, has now advocated for the FBI to establish a new domestic terrorism category: “Transgender Ideology-Inspired Violent Extremism.”
Finding Sanctuary in Self-Defense
For many participants at the Brutality match, concerns about self-defense are paramount, a sentiment shared by a broad spectrum of gun owners across the political divide. Jane Bird, a soft-spoken transgender educator in her late thirties, shared her perspective while we chatted inside the rustic clubhouse of the Parma Rod and Gun Club. “People see a threat, they’re scared,” she explained. Bird, who hails from Iowa, a state that recently removed gender identity protections from its Civil Rights Act, opts for anonymity, fearing repercussions if her identity were linked to her work with children. She cites platforms like LibsofTikTok and Tucker Carlson as potential avenues for harassment.
Bird, along with other progressive gun owners, has been actively organizing free “Self-Defense 101” classes for marginalized communities. These classes often focus on the practicalities of firearm ownership and, sometimes, on helping individuals determine if firearms are the right choice for them. “There’s almost a stereotype, an in-group stereotype, that if you want to learn about guns, ask your spicy trans girlfriends,” she remarked with a knowing smile. “I’m now, I guess, one of those.”
Bird’s proficiency with firearms is deeply rooted. Growing up in Wisconsin, her father, a competitive shooter since the 1970s, “was buying guns for me before I was born.” Her current rifle and handgun are both his. She took a hiatus from shooting in her twenties, attributing it to the mental toll of being closeted and not wanting to be around anything that could facilitate self-harm. Her decision to come out also created distance from some family members, including a grandfather who refused to acknowledge her true identity.
Her re-engagement with shooting began around 2019, leading her to InRange TV through friends from a now-defunct Iowa chapter of the Socialist Rifle Association. Initially daunted by the idea of a Brutality match, she has since become an integral part of the InRange team, responsible for their graphic design and branding. Her personal touches are visible in her work – a patch featuring a mama possum with armed babies, and water bottles adorned with slogans like “Protect Trans Youth.”
Bird has attended two Brutality matches this year, noting the significant difference in atmosphere compared to more conventional shooting clubs. “The last time I tried to show up, there were two other women there, and when the second arrived, the first one said to her, ‘I’m glad there’s another real woman here for a change,’” she recounted, highlighting the exclusionary environment she often encounters. This experience, she concluded, made it “really not worth it trying to go to those anymore.”
The Rise of Online Paranoia and Real-World Repercussions
Even before Kirk’s assassination, right-wing media figures like Andy Ngo were actively disseminating images of armed transgender individuals online, subtly implying they posed a threat. The arrest of Tyler Robinson, the suspect in Kirk’s killing, amplified this paranoia into a fever pitch. Many prominent Second Amendment advocates began calling for the disarmament of transgender people. MAGA influencer Laura Loomer, for instance, posted on X, suggesting the possibility of a “Trans terror cell” grooming Robinson and providing him with the murder weapon. She further fueled the fire by referring to shooting clubs where “Trannies meet up to learn how to shoot rifles” and wear shirts with slogans like “Kill fascists” and “the 2nd Amendment is for shooting cops,” framing them as dangerous training grounds for war.
Let me be clear: the participants at this event are not training for war. Instead, they are engaging in a complex and often unconventional expression of their identities and beliefs. Deviant Ollam, a 48-year-old hacker and guntuber, shared insights into the kink-friendly nature of Brutality matches, proudly displaying an “arm trans women” patch and distributing “Abolish ICE” stickers. Ollam, who identifies as poly and pansexual, is currently navigating a relationship with Gun Bunny. The two, with their substantial YouTube followings, share an affectionate dynamic throughout the weekend, even joined by Ollam’s boyfriend, who is married, poly, and sports a shirt emblazoned with “Pro Gun, Pro Gay, A Better Way 2A.”
Unexpected Detours and Resilient Spirits
My exploration of the event took an unexpected turn when Ollam, while demonstrating long-distance shooting from a watchtower, inadvertently sparked a grass fire in the dry heat. As thick smoke billowed into the air, the competition was brought to a halt, and emergency crews were summoned. This literal fire, consuming my initial reporting plan, led me to seek out Tacticool Girlfriend, a prominent transgender guntuber, at her hotel in Nampa.
Earlier that day, I had witnessed Tacticool Girlfriend’s impressive marksmanship as she shot targets from an abandoned school bus with an AR-15, ultimately securing third place in that stage. In the dimly lit hotel room, shared with two fellow transgender shooters, her talent for content creation was evident. She possesses a keen eye for angles, even when maneuvering a bulky AR-15. Her striking features – thick, black eyebrows and pronounced cheekbones – make her instantly recognizable, even when her face is partially concealed by her keffiyeh, worn to protect her identity.
Unlike some others, Tacticool Girlfriend, who describes herself as a “straight-up” anarchist, has never felt unwelcome at shooting events. Her friend, who requested anonymity as “Nancy,” shared amusing anecdotes about visiting small towns, where their transgender identity often goes unnoticed. However, a visit to a gun store did elicit some curious stares. Their strategy to blend in? “As soon as we started talking shit about Gavin Newsom, they got real friendly,” Nancy admitted. “It’s annoying, because it’s like, yeah, like, you hate liberals and I hate liberals, but not for the same reason.”
Tacticool Girlfriend’s fascination with firearms originated from her passion for history and Soviet Red Army reenactments. However, leading up to the 2016 presidential election, she intensified her training with modern firearms, sensing a shift in the country’s political trajectory. She has also been the target of threats and unfounded accusations. While she carries a firearm at all times for preparedness, she acknowledges that it doesn’t guarantee safety and that she isn’t seeking confrontation. “People give us way more credit than we actually deserve,” she quipped. “We’re just dressing up in our little costumes and shooting guns for fun.”
Building a Community, Brick by Brick
Later that evening, at a backyard gathering of Brutality match attendees, Karl Kasarda recounted his January 2021 YouTube interview with Tacticool Girlfriend. He had noticed her channel and aimed to amplify her voice, discussing shared interests in shooting matches without delving into transgender issues or her identity. Despite the seemingly innocuous conversation, the response was explosive. “What that boiled down to was a realization that I don’t think there was a way to fix the old gun community,” Kasarda reflected. He was forced to ask some individuals to leave the InRange community, and experienced a significant drop in Patreon income and lost “most” industry contacts. Undeterred, he emphasizes, “We’ve had to really build our own path forward.”
Kasarda’s ability to rally people creates a sense of hope and collective purpose, a community that is constantly being tested. “Reverend Charles,” for instance, embraced the Martian theme with his costume.
The Crucible of Controversy and Resilience
In the weeks following Charlie Kirk’s killing, the conservative media machine intensified its attacks on transgender individuals. A witch hunt for Robinson’s roommate, alleged by Utah Governor Spencer Cox to be transgender – a rumor that quickly spread despite the roommate’s cooperative behavior and lack of public comment on their gender identity – highlighted the pervasive nature of this misinformation.
My editors and I grappled with how to proceed, acutely aware that images of armed transgender people were being weaponized to stoke fear. The challenge was to report accurately and responsibly, without contributing to the very narrative we sought to scrutinize.
Checking in with my sources revealed a palpable wariness. There was a shared sense that the animosity was escalating, that some individuals were unshakeable in their conviction that the nation was on the brink of an ideological, or perhaps even a literal, war. They expressed nerves about the piece’s eventual form but also a strong desire for their stories to be heard and accurately represented – a commitment I aimed to uphold.
Jane Bird recounted her experience the week Kirk died. She had planned a range day to help a transgender friend select her first firearm. A few days after the shooting, while picking up ammunition, she noticed she was being stared at more intensely than she had been in years at a familiar gun store. Normally greeted with offers of assistance, this time, people actively avoided her. Immediately after Kirk’s death, her visceral reaction was, “Oh, please don’t let it be one of us.” Even though Robinson was not transgender, she felt that individuals like her were being “collectively” punished.
Yet, Bird also shared glimmers of optimism. In August, at her grandfather’s funeral – the same grandfather who had struggled to accept her transition – they experienced a reconciliation. “The first thing he said to me was ‘Jane,’ and he gave me a huge hug and called me by my name again, and said, ‘Your grandpa’s finally come around.’” Furthermore, despite political disagreements with many at her local gun range, an instructor recently reminded members that “the Second Amendment has to be for everyone.”
Kasarda, meanwhile, continues his fight against toxicity within the broader gun community. Hours after Kirk was shot, he posted on Bluesky, unequivocally denouncing the crime: “Assassinations are not self nor community defense. This country is not at war, and we should all strive for it not to be. Violence begets violence and it is never acceptable to instigate it.” He admitted to sitting in his home office and crying. Forums like AR15.com and Kiwi Farms continued to accuse him of self-preservation, while authorities still hadn’t officially stated Robinson’s motive. However, an indictment detailing charges against Robinson, including aggravated murder, included an interview with his mother stating he had become “more to the left” due to his “pro-gay and trans rights” views. Kasarda remains somber, stating, “We’re headed to some very bad things as a result of this.”
The competition is designed to test both physical prowess and shooting skill.
A Glimpse into the Future of Firearms Advocacy
When I reconnected with Tacticool Girlfriend, she drew a parallel between the current moment and Italy’s “Years of Lead,” a period of intense political violence. She predicts that if America is to face another civil war, it will likely resemble that era more than any previous conflict.
Despite the pervasive dangers, she cherishes the life she has built and is unwilling to relinquish it. “Being a trans person in the world is inherently dangerous,” she stated plainly. “There are people who hate us for no good reason, no matter where we go.” As our conversation concluded, she mentioned a shooting competition scheduled for the following weekend, a testament to her enduring spirit and commitment to her community.
This evolving gun culture, forged in the crucible of social change and political polarization, represents a significant shift in who is claiming their right to bear arms and why. It’s a narrative that challenges stereotypes, redefines belonging, and underscores the persistent human desire for self-determination and community, even in the face of adversity.