The fight for Black trans women’s rights

Black trans women called on their lives also to take precedence during the BLM movement in 2020 (Getty)

THE LIVES of black transgender women first became visible for many in the summer of 2020.

As the Black Lives Matter movement against police brutality turned global, the community itself was rocked by the tragic deaths of 57 black trans women throughout the US in the year alone.

Around the world, the transgender, nonbinary, and gender-nonconforming community recorded 375 murders – the majority of the victims were trans women or transfeminine people of colour.

The UK was deemed a “hostile environment” for trans and non-binary people, particularly for trans people of colour in 2021, according to TransActual.

While no official data currently exists in the UK about the number of deaths linked to the trans community or even by ethnicity, it shone a new light on how the lives of black transgender women remain invisible in the fight for not just LGBTQ+ rights but also for racial equality.

Kim Tatum, a singer and actress who goes by her stage-name Mzz Kimberley, tells The Voice that the fight for both black and trans almost begins as early as childhood, and says that she always knew she was “different” before discovering her trans identity. 

PROUD: Asterisk (centre) was one of the many LGBTQ+ people that protested outside the BBC offices in London

“I didn’t know that there was a word called trans. I just knew I was different and I just knew I didn’t fit in with the rest of the boys. I hung out with a lot of girls and I can remember my mom saying to me, ‘You need to start playing with the boys. You play with too many girls.’ But it was really hard,” she recalls.

“I can remember when I was about five-years-old, I looked into a magazine which was called Ebony magazine in America…I saw a picture of Grace Jones and Andy Warhol. I had no idea who they were at five-years-old, but I just looked at them and I thought, ‘Oh my God, that’s me’ because they were so different.”

While growing up in Detroit during the 80s and 90s, Kim says little was known about transgender people and that her family floated between the middle ground of being “slightly religious,” but not “bible bashers” despite her grandmother being the founder of her church’s congregation.

It made the journey to finding herself as a trans woman even harder. When she eventually began her transition, she was still fighting her newfound identity and that those around her had to grow to accept it as she began a new life in the UK. 

POSITIVE

“My mom was very understanding later on. She became very proud of me. At first she was a bit sceptical, because I was working as a drag queen in Madame Jojo’s and at Heaven nightclub, but I was working as a drag queen, but really I was trans,” she admits.

“I never really dressed like a drag queen. It was new to my mother, but she kind of came around to it and she became very proud of me.”

“I’m not some person who’s living on the street selling drugs or anything, I’m doing quite positive things so she had to take another look at me and see this is actually quite positive. “My father, he’s okay [with me being a trans woman].

For Asterisk Ravensbourne, her path to discovering her trans identity while growing up in London began much later in life. She only wanted to play with girls as well while in school, and admits she never got on with men.

“I think the common trans narrative is that most people knew when they were a child and they figured it out when they were transitioning as a teen and so on,” she tells The Voice.

“As for myself, I felt that things were off throughout my adolescence and then I guess it never occurred to me [that I was trans] until I just started questioning my gender seriously. 

“And the reason why that was less because a lot of my role models in various parts of my life were all women.

“The aesthetics I desired were more feminine. I was bodybuilding for a long time, but I always developed my body in a way to be more curvaceous. I just thought that was more attractive. Things like that just made me start questioning – why do I feel like this?”

Asterisk made the decision that she was trans just three months later and began the process of transitioning soon after and described her family as “supportive and progressive.”

However, the journey to finding herself led her to realise how little people like her there were living at the intersections of of both race and gender identity.

HISTORY: Marsha P. Johnson is credited as being the pioneer for LGBTQ+ rights (Picture: Smithsonian)

“Since transitioning and living as a black woman, I’m really feeling for the first time in my life that I am a minority, which isn’t a pretty good feeling. In terms of how my gender identity fits into that, I think I’ve only ever met one other black trans woman in person even when I go to clubs and other events,” she says.

“It’s the reason why I am the way I am, I kind of I have to be open and show people that I exist, it would be nice if I could go stealth, because people don’t know that I’m trans when I meet them based on how I look and how I sound, because there isn’t so much visibility of black trans people in the UK, I feel like I kind of have to put a face to it so that we do exist.

“I’ve spoken at two protests and there was one in January outside of the BBC as well. I think I was the only black woman who spoke out of about 15 people.”

After choosing to transition, Kim also says that she realised why there were so few black trans women that were vocal in the LGBTQ+ spaces that she’s spent most of her career and life in.

“I think that there are a  lot of black trans women who are disrespected. I’ve always heard growing up that black women are the most disrespected in the world, and I have come to realise that trans women fit into that same category as well. They’re even more disrespected,” she says.

SPACES

I notice that when you’re black, you have to work harder and I’ve just noticed being dismissed alot and not just by cis, heterosexual, Caucasian people, this is by trans Caucasian people.”

“There’s a real gap in our community and you would think that the trans community is all together, but it’s not and I’ve learnt that the hard way.”

In May 2021, London Pride – one of the UK’s biggest celebrations of the LGBTQ+ community – issued an apology for the years of racism that its black members had endured and admitted they had fallen short in their promise of bringing people together. 

“The Pride movement started over 50 years ago to deliver equality for all LGBT+ people. To have not done that for Black, Brown and Asian people recently, isn’t good enough and falls below the standards to which we’re committed to live by,” the group said.

“We are committed to being actively anti-racist, supported by updated practices, policies, procedures and a culture that is reflective of the rich diversity of London and its LGBT+ community.”

Over the years, Asterisk herself has volunteered at Pride events in London and says the experience was “challenging” as one of the few black trans women in those spaces. 

“I go to events and meetups and I go to clubs and so on. And you notice that the LGBT community is as a whole, it’s very white. Whenever I go to meet up, I’m one of the few black people here,” she says.

“I’ve started volunteering for a charity, which I won’t name, but I did the training with them and in the group of 20 people, so I was the only black person there. 

MOVEMENT

“When I go to bars and clubs in general, it’s mostly white, which is why I suppose there’s so many events that are made specifically for black people, which is disappointing because it shouldn’t have to happen, but it’s just the reality of it.”

“I have gone through a lot,” says Kims. “I have a lot of people angry at me because I am that black woman who can stand up for myself and I can speak up for myself and they don’t like it either cis or trans.

“And I really noticed that after I transitioned more. I’ve been very successful here in London. I was the hostess, the face of Heaven nightclub for seven years and that was the biggest gay club in the world. 

“And you could probably just imagine the hassle I had as being a black face, especially American and you’re the face of a white club. I really had no support in the club. I just had people who were just against me all the time. It was very difficult.”

For both Asterisk and Kim, the hardest part living as black trans women has come at times from their own black community.

During the summer of 2020, Asterisk recalls how as the BLM movement grew in momentum that there was so little space for black trans lives to also have a place in the global conversation. 

“When that was occurring during that time when people were protesting, there was still violence towards black trans women and some of that was perpetrated by other black people as well,” she recalls.

LEARNING

“I think that black people are more reserved or apathetic or at least less understanding. I could hear that black people have less understanding of LGBT issues. 

“And even when it comes to mental health, they may not take a more open or public stance, and be a bit more judgemental. It might just have to do with the cultural difference, say between Africans and the British or the Americans.”

Kim says she faced similar barriers and described the response from the black community as very hostile while she was growing up, but says there has been some progress in attitudes towards people like her.

“I think things are a lot better these days and I think that’s because I’m more female presenting so a lot of the black community don’t know. 

“However, if they do know, it can go either way. It could go either way – positive or negative. 

“I have a large network of black female friends and I have a network of black male friends as well, which is smaller than my female friends,” she says. 

“I do have heterosexual men who I’m friends with, I have my good friend back home in America and I was telling him about what was happening and he said, do not let any of those people make you feel that you’re not worthy. That was his response and that came from a black man. So, I think it just depends.

VISIBLE

“You have to always want to learn, when you stop learning, that’s when you die. That’s what I say. But in the future for the black trans community a lot of us don’t know each other, but we need to get to know each other.”

It’s not a difficult one because I’m not feeling so positive at the moment now. I think a bright future for us [black trans women]. I really do. But we have to make it bright ourselves. 

You have to always want to learn, when you stop learning, that’s when you die. That’s what I say for the future for the black trans community, a lot of us don’t know each other, but we we need to get to know each other.

“We can’t depend on the white community to help us evolve. This is why we have to come together more and more so we can support each other and help each other.”

It’s been more than 40 years since the Stonewall riots, when Marsha P. Johnson, a black transgender woman who is often credited as throwing the first brick at the police when raids on gay bars became prominent throughout Manhattan, New York.

Until today, Stonewall is considered by many to have been the catalyst in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights around the world and a moment in history that put the stories of black transgender women at the forefront.

Shaira Bambi, an organiser at Trans Activism UK, told The Voice that a core part of their work is still giving black trans women in particular a chance to be seen years after they first became visible. 

“Black trans women as in many communities face disproportionately low visibility in spaces and the UK including the UK LGBTQ+ community are no different. They are often excluded or not given the space to take up in LGBTQ+ events, discussions about legislation affecting them or even been made to feel safe at events due to the high risks of violence towards them they face,” she says.

“This unequal treatment of black trans women can be mitigated by the relationship between the black and LGBTQ+ community both by the work they do together and because many individuals including black trans tomen overlap these communities. 

“We can raise the voices of black Trans People in black and Queer spaces, giving them a platform to talk about their unique experiences and ensuring events are intersectional, accessible and safe.

“At our events we pride ourselves in reaching out to a wide variety of the community and maintain that we raise voices of the minority within the community.

“Adopting intersectionality, accessibility and safety into our events first and foremost allows us to make an impact on the trans community by giving them a safe environment to have their voices heard.”

Comments Form

1 Comment

  1. | Chaka Artwell

    England’s WHITEHALL and the U.S. WHITEHOUSE have linked “aid” and International Bank Loans to the nations of Asia; Africa and the Caribbean dependent on these governments accepting all forms of western Caucasian sex-tourists favoured by Stonewall’s sexual Creed.

    Who is protecting the rights of the unprotected children of Asia; Africa and the Caribbean from Caucasian Europe’s government protected and empowered and privileged sex-tourists?

    Reply

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