It is more important now more than ever for trans and gender nonconforming people to be the architects of our own narratives. While trans visibility is at an all-time high, with trans people increasingly represented in popular culture, violence against us has also never been higher. The push for visibility without it being tied to a demand for our basic needs being met often leaves us without material resources or tangible support, and exposed to more violence and isolation. Every day a new piece comes out about transness that is written and published by cisgender folk with industry resources. Every day our stories and our images are misused, sanitized, and extracted from for the gain of others. This is why it is crucial that we uplift and support the work of trans people to tell our own stories – on the screen, on the page, and on the streets.
So much of what Marsha had to deal with remains a reality for many of us. Marsha’s history has helped me make plain the connections between the historical erasure of trans women of color from the LGBT movement, and contemporary forms of anti-black transphobic violence happening today. Her image and ideas were extracted throughout her life, while she experienced so much violence – from the police, the outside world, and often from lesbian and gay activists and artists. It is this kind of violent extraction — of black life, trans life, queer life, disabled life, poor life — that leads so many of us to hold our ideas close to our chests; to never let the world see how brightly we shine. Until all of our ideas and lives are celebrated and given the resources we need and deserve, so much of our brilliance will remain hidden out of fear of our lives and labor being violated and appropriated. I truly believe this moment invites all of us not just to think about what we want to see represented on screen, but also how we want those images to be made and stories documented in the first place. {read}