What is known with certainty in Owasso, Okla., is that a 16-year-old is dead.
“Whether Nex died as a direct result of injuries sustained in the brutal hate-motivated attack at school or not, Nex’s death is a result of being the target of physical and emotional harm because of who Nex was,” the LGBTQ+ advocacy group Freedom Oklahoma declared Monday.
Owasso is a Tulsa suburb of about 40,000 in the northeastern corner of Oklahoma, a conservative state where LGBTQ+ issues are lightning rods of controversy.
Last year, Republican Gov. Kevin Stitt signed an executive order defining an individual’s sex as the “biological sex” at birth. Laws took effect requiring students to use bathrooms that match their sex assigned at birth and restricting gender-affirming care for trans youths.
This year, legislators already have proposed more than 50 anti-LGBTQ+ laws — more than any other state, according to the ACLU.
The man who heads public education in Oklahoma is also a vocal critic of LGBTQ+ rights. Superintendent Ryan Walters appointed Chaya Raichik — the conservative activist behind Libs of TikTok, which has targeted LGBTQ-friendly teachers at Owasso schools — to a state library advisory board.
“Our hearts go out to Nex’s family, classmates, and the Owasso community,” Stitt said in a statement Tuesday. “The death of any child in an Oklahoma school is a tragedy — and bullies must be held accountable.”
It was a day of multiple statements. The one from the school district provided some background: The fight on Feb. 7 involved several students at the high school. It was broken up by other students and a staff member. All of those involved “walked under their own power to the assistant principal’s office and nurse’s office” and, per “district protocols,” were evaluated by the nurse.
Officials did not summon an ambulance or police, in keeping with those protocols, the statement said. However, it continued, “out of an abundance of caution, it was recommended to one parent that their student visit a medical facility for further examination.”
One of Nex’s cousins filled in details from there. Sue Benedict picked her grandchild up from school on that Wednesday and took Nex to a hospital for an MRI given the bad facial bruises and scratches she saw, Victoria “Tori” Broene recounted. Benedict, who had adopted Nex, contacted police to report what had happened at the high school, Broene said.
The next morning, Nex collapsed at home and Benedict rushed them back to the hospital.
Owasso police said Tuesday that results of an autopsy are pending. Officials are also awaiting a toxicology report before deciding whether to refer the case to the Tulsa district attorney’s office for potential charges, according to Lt. Nick Boatman.
Unlike federal law, Oklahoma law does not address hate crimes based on gender identity or sexual orientation.
“It is not known at this time if the death is related to the incident at the school or not,” police said in a statement. “We can assure everyone that this incident is being taken seriously and is being investigated thoroughly.”
Nex’s death is reverberating in LGBTQ+ communities across Oklahoma, particularly among youths.
A hotline run by the Indianapolis-based Rainbow Youth Project received 237 calls from Oklahoma over the weekend, founder Lance Preston said, nearly three times what it logs in an average week. Two-thirds of the callers mentioned Nex’s death. More than 80 percent said they were victims of bullying at school or on social media.
“There’s a real fear,” Preston said. “We already have kids who are reporting they don’t want to go back to school. Even though there’s not a lot of information available still, there’s that fear: ‘Oh my goodness, they killed that student because they were nonbinary. What’s going to happen when I go to use the bathroom?’”
Kylan Durant, president of the Oklahoma Pride Alliance, pushed back against those who said Nex’s gender identity wasn’t relevant. And he issued a pointed challenge to the state schools superintendent and other top officials.
“Our community is saying, ‘Hey, Ryan Walters: This is what happens when you spew violent rhetoric,’” Durant said. “This happened in a red state where all of these laws and these leaders are saying terrible things about queer people and kids. Can we not draw a line and acknowledge that stuff like this happens because of that?”
Though the governor’s statement urged the Owasso police and Owasso High School “to be forthcoming and transparent with the public,” authorities have not disclosed how many students were involved in the altercation, what those who helped break it up said they found when they entered the bathroom and if students were suspended.
Despite the “speculation and misinformation surrounding the case,” the school district said the details it could share were limited because of the police investigation and federal privacy laws. For the same reason it declined to answer a question on whether Nex had reported being bullied.
“We recognize the impact that this event has had on the entire school community,” its statement noted Tuesday, “and it is our priority to foster an environment where everyone feels heard, supported, and safe.”
But Nex’s family wants answers.
“I hate that they keep putting out that we don’t know if this was a result of the fight,” said Nex’s aunt, Ashley Rutledge.
When she picked Nex up from school that afternoon, Benedict told the Independent, a British newspaper, Nex described how three older girls had gone after them and a transgender student in the bathroom, knocking Nex down and hitting their head on the floor. According to Benedict, the school had immediately suspended Nex for two weeks. She was furious that no one had called an ambulance or police.
“What parent wouldn’t be?” Broene, Nex’s cousin, said Tuesday. “Everyone’s really upset about that.”
The family has hired a Tulsa attorney, who plans to meet with them Wednesday. Broene wants to know what images hallway security cameras may have captured when her cousin emerged from the bathroom — and whether Nex was indeed able to walk unassisted.
“I would really just like to see the camera footage,” she said.
Broene lives across the state line in Arkansas. She tried to get to the hospital in time on Feb. 8, but by the time she arrived, her cousin had died.
Instead, she spoke at Nex’s funeral last Thursday, along with her mother and Benedict. Nex’s biological mother was among the mourners; their father, who is in prison for abuse, was not.
The trio described Nex as a straight-A student, a nature and animal lover who was devoted to a cat named Zeus. The teen was a fan of “The Walking Dead” and video games such as “Minecraft.” Like the family, Nex embraced their Choctaw roots.
“Out of respect, I’ll be referring to them as they wanted to be,” Broene told her family, some of whom knew Nex by their birth name. “Nex’s life was hard. … This tragic loss has left many of us with a deep sense of void.”
The simple, closed-casket service was emotional. Afterward, the small funeral procession wound through the town escorted by Owasso police and nearly three dozen motorcyclists from Bikers Against Child Abuse — an organization that had meant a lot to Nex.
A GoFundMe created to help the family defray the funeral costs has raised more than $50,000. Benedict posted an update on the page on Tuesday: “The rest of monies will go to other children dealing with the right to be who they feel they are, in Nex Benedict’s name.”
