Dear Community,

I attended this weekend’s March for Black Trans Lives, a powerful space where an estimated 15,000 people showed up to support the call to end violence and harm against trans, gender non-confirming, and non-binary Black and Brown folks. It was the first time in weeks that I was honest about how I’ve been affected by the rampant murders, attacks, and police brutality on my community. A friend who I hadn’t seen in months due to the pandemic asked how I was doing and I said “terrible. Everything feels awful. But we’ll be ok.” I stopped pretending I was fine, that the trauma we face by watching the news, walking down the street, having cops occupying every (non-white) space in the city, doesn’t impact me greatly. As a Black trans masculine person, I’ve been more alert and vigilant than ever lately, worried about how cops and others will see me, especially in a mask, as a threat. Worried about being an immunocompromised person during mobilizations. Worried about my comrades and those close to me in community who remain isolated at home or behind bars. But I maintain hope. Hope that these uprisings show that our people are not willing to go back, return to a world where the few with power and money control the lives of the many without.