Last January, I attended Sundance, an acclaimed film festival known to spotlight noteworthy and potentially Oscar-award-winning films. While I was blown away by nearly every movie, one documentary certainly stole the show- Kokomo City. Directed by Black trans woman D Smith, Kokomo City is an unapologetic and genuine glimpse into the lives of four Black transgender sex workers from New York and Georgia. Captured in vivid black and white, their candid stories combine personal experiences with profound commentary on Black culture and society. The film left as the most awarded of the entire festival, earning both the coveted Audience Award and the NEXT Innovator Award. At the end of the film’s viewing, audiences raved. Yet one of the film’s leads quickly and proudly quipped- you have watched our traumatic story and applauded our resilience, but what’s next? Where is the authentic allyship and support?

If any community understands the complexities and importance of authentic allyship, it is Black queer men. Because of this, I encourage us to reflect and ask ourselves- are we cultivating allyship as needed by Black transwomen? Or are we producing and circulating the crumbs of allyship we were once served?

 The meteoric rise of transphobia

According to the Washington Post, there have been over 400 bills drafted that are aimed at trans individuals, and the ACLU has noted that many of these bills are past the first step of the state legislative process. They are not stalled; instead, the wheels of intolerance are slowly turning. These bills include various topics such as bathroom bills, sports teams, and healthcare. The impact is so dire that the Human Rights Campaign announced a federal state of emergency for LGBTQIA+ Americans.

On top of legislative discrimination being veiled as protection, the rhetoric and discourse following this culture war have tangible impacts on trans individuals' quality of life; this is true even if legislation isn’t passed. If the national discourse around one’s identity is constantly rooted in toxicity, harm, misinformation, and mystery, this would undoubtedly manifest in daily life. For example, nearly 50% of transwomen have been mistreated by a medical professional, transwomen are twice as likely to be unemployed, one-third of transwomen have experienced homelessness in their lifetime, 75% of trans youth feel unsafe at school due to their gender expression, 70% of trans adults report intense depression,  and around of 88% of transgender individuals have considered dying by suicide. Black trans women face disproportionate impacts on nearly every one of these issues. 

In the crosshairs of transphobia and racism: Black transwomen

 As if political turmoil and culture wars are not enough, Black transwomen are often subjected to increased scrutiny, judgment, and ridicule from within the Black community. According to a 2022 Pew Research Center survey, 60% of Black adults believe there's significant discrimination against transgender people in the U.S. We do not have to look too far back to see this disconnect and controversy.  In July, comedian Jess Hilarious went viral after claiming that no one stands up for cisgender Black women and that “transgenders are delusional.” TS Madison and Angelica Ross responded, sparking the monthly Black Twitter debate topic. 

 While Twitter fingers were rampant, actual harm was happening to Black trans women. A 2022 report found that at least 22 trans people were murdered in 2022, most of whom were Black. The most recent data from this year estimates that at least 8 Black trans women have been killed due to their gender expression. Many victims were killed by partners or acquaintances, and some by unidentified strangers. In nearly all cases, the assailant(s) was never apprehended or charged with a crime.  

 On a positive note, a Black trans woman (see her story here) in New York recently won a discrimination lawsuit after being inhumanely treated while incarcerated. The ACLU and Human Rights Campaign noted that the settlement introduces one of the most “ robust policies nationwide, safeguarding the rights of transgender, nonconforming, nonbinary, and intersex individuals in custody.” 

The Complexity of Black Gay Male Privilege & Queer Solidarity

As a Black gay man, I am no stranger to the intersection of race, gender, and sexuality. Despite our battles against racism and homophobia, we must recognize that many of us still possess social privilege and power as cisgender men. When it is possible and safe, it is vital that we advocate for and alongside our trans sisters. I also recognize and acknowledge this form of allyship is difficult because the needs of the trans community can be and often are different from the requirements of Black queer men. For instance, Black trans women often have additional medical needs, such as hormone therapy and other aspects of gender-affirming care.

On another note, in the vast span of LGBTQIA+ history, queer solidarity has been more than just a goal; it's been a lifeline. Through unity, the queer and trans communities found their strength. From narratives of Stonewall etched into queer lore to HIV activism for the incarcerated to contemporary activism to eradicate the gay/trans panic defense, queer solutions are rooted in solidarity.

Supporting our sisters: Expressing Impactful Trans Allyship safely.

  An ally is anyone from a dominant or majority group working towards ending oppression by supporting and advocating for marginalized and oppressed groups. 

Allyship does not have to be perfect to be impactful. It can be flawed and functional at the same time. However, silence is deadly when it comes to trans lives. Capacity and resources given, we, as gay men, must fight alongside transwomen. Allyship for Black trans women can come in various forms, but regardless of how it shows up, it should be intentional, reflective, and center the needs of the trans experience. Reflect on your circle and skillset and then ask yourself-what can I do to advocate for Black transwomen? If you are not sure, ask.  Advocate alongside, not in substitute of. If you want some places to start, check out the list below!

1. Interpersonal 

   • Start Simple, Educate Yourself: Familiarize yourself with organizations like The Transgender Law Center, National Center For Transgender Equality, and Sylvia Rivera Law Project. Diversify your social media and news feed by following Black trans thought leaders such as TS Madison and Andrea Jenkins. 

   • Address interpersonal transphobia & respect pronouns: Transphobia is spread through regular conversations. If a peer or family member misgenders someone, respectfully correct them. Also, look for current events as starting points for discussions. For example, Zaya Wade frequently provides opportunities to have difficult conversations. 

   • Donate & Support Black Trans-led Initiatives: In a world ruled by capitalism, monetary support, and donations often translate to helping Black transwomen. This list provides a range of organizations based on area of focus, and click here for a breakdown of organizations fighting for Black trans liberation in your state!

2. Workplace:

   • Inquiry about hiring practices and policies: Ask HR and relevant parties if your workplace offers queer affinity groups. Also, respectfully inquire if your health care plans cover trans needs and/or if other policies cover the unique experiences of transwomen.   

3. Policy 

   • Protest & Join The Fight: Use your skills to engage in the civic process and protest. This could range from writing letters to calling your representative to vocalizing your concerns via phone. Anti-Racism Daily outlines what policy advocacy looks like for each state!

This list is not comprehensive; instead, it is designed to give opportunities to reflect. Allyship can appear in many ways, but it never will emerge in the shadows of silence. Black trans women have been the backbone of queer justice for decades, and it is time for us to return that support rightfully.