Written By: Lauren Lipscomb 

As Transgender Awareness Month unfolds, it is crucial that we take a moment to center the experiences and stories of Black Trans women. Just as they have served as the backbone of movements for the LGBTQIA+ community, they are also disproportionately targeted. In honoring the stories of Black Transfigures, we are reminded that the fight for Trans rights is rooted in Black resilience. The data compels us to act: Black Trans women are statistically the most vulnerable to fatal violence in this country.  

Historically, Black Trans women have stood at the forefront of social justice movements. Frances Thompson is remembered as the first Black Trans woman to have testified before Congress. Following the Memphis Massacre of 1866, Thompson described the sexual assaults and vicious attacks she and others had endured. This act of courage spoke volumes, not only as a survivor, but as speaking out as a Black, Trans, formerly enslaved woman in an era in which Black voices were disregarded or met with violence is an act that can be described as nothing less than heroism.1 

Several generations later, Marsha P. Johnson became a primary figure in the Stonewall era and beyond. As a Black Trans woman and activist, Johnson co-founded, with Sylvia Rivera, the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR), offering shelter and support in a time when many Trans youths were homeless and criminalized. Her work created a long-lasting effect that still resonates in Trans justice organizing and mutual aid.2 

In our own time, Andrea Jenkins, the first openly Trans Black woman elected to public office, carries forward the project of political representation and collective transformation.3 Her work demonstrates how visibility in leadership can become a pathway to structural change, proof that representation can be both symbolic and deeply practical. Yet even as figures like Jenkins make history, the reality for many Black Trans women across the country remains perilous. Ra’Laisia Wright, a young Black Latina Trans woman whose life was cut short, reminds us that the violence is ongoing. Her story stands in painful contrast to the progress embodied by leaders like Jenkins, underscoring that visibility alone cannot shield Trans people from harm. Her memory urges that we do not allow her story to vanish into the footnotes of tragedy.4 

These individuals represent both generational continuity and structural rupture: continuity in the long arc of Black Trans presence, and how they’ve reimagined belonging and survival under hate. Yet their legacies must be held against the stark realities of violence that affect Black Trans women today. According to recent studies, Black Trans women account for 72% of all Transgender women killed in the U.S.5 Between 2013 and 2021, the median age at death for Black Trans women was just 28, and a higher proportion were killed by gun violence compared to other groups.6 The Human Rights Campaign reports that in recent years, half of all recorded Trans homicides involved Black Trans women. Between 2017 and 2023, more than six in eight homicides of Transgender and gender-expansive people were of Black Trans women.7 

These numbers are more than statistics; they represent lives lost too soon due to ignorance and hatred. In many documented cases, the perpetrator was a cisgender man known to the victim, frequently a romantic or sexual partner.8 The social scaffolding meant to protect people, policing, investigation, and legal accountability, is often absent or deeply flawed in cases involving Trans victims.9 

Violence against Black Trans women is derived from the intersections of racism, misogyny, and Transphobia. This combination of identities has resulted in a plethora of unique struggles, including but not limited to economic exclusion, barriers in employment, healthcare inequalities, and housing injustices. One study notes that Black Trans people have unemployment rates as high as 26 percent, twice that of Transgender people overall and many times that of the general population.10 Discrimination, stigma, and historic neglect deepen every vulnerability. 

The question remains: How do we support Black Trans women? It is crucial that we invest in organizations that uplift Trans people and elevate the work of crisis intervention, mental health support, housing programs, and community organizing. The Trevor Project, for instance, offers vital resources for LGBTQ+ youth, including Trans youth, while GLAAD provides media tools to shift culture and counter misrepresentation.11 Additionally, we must advocate for policy changes that are more inclusive of racial and gender identities. For example, the implementation of training for law enforcement in disaggregating cases involving Trans victims and gun violence prevention measures that can reduce the lethality of attacks. The epidemic of violence is an urgent public health and civil rights crisis. Finally, all allies, especially cisgender people, must use their platforms to demand accountability, to challenge Transphobic narratives, and to ensure Black Trans voices are centered, not tokenized. The names Frances Thompson, Marsha P. Johnson, Andrea Jenkins, and Ra’Laisia Wright deserve more than remembrance; they demand that we carry forward their work. 

This Trans Awareness Month, let us not only honor the memories and milestones of Black Trans leaders but also commit ourselves to building a future where their lives are celebrated in safety, dignity, and joy. In Washington, D.C., leaders have made efforts to strengthen protections for LGBTQIA+ residents through measures like inclusive housing programs, community health resources, and city-wide nondiscrimination policies. By contrast, other parts of the country, such as Louisiana, present very different realities, where legislation and local policies have placed restrictions on gender-affirming care and created additional barriers for Trans people, especially those who are Black and already facing systemic inequities. This divergence highlights how geography can shape the daily lives and safety of Black Trans women. The work ahead is to ensure that no matter where someone lives, access to dignity, protection, and opportunity is not determined by state lines but guaranteed for all. 

Works Cited 

Center for Health Policy Research & Consulting. Fatal Violence Against Black Transgender Women in the United States. 2021. 

EveryStat. “Transgender Homicide Data.” EveryStat.org. https://everystat.org/#Transhomicide. 

Everytown for Gun Safety. “New Everytown Data on Transgender Homicides Reveals Concentration in the South.” Everytown, 2023. 

GLAAD. “Transgender Resources.” GLAAD, 2024. https://glaad.org/Transgender/resources. 

Harvard Civil Rights-Civil Liberties Law Review. “America’s War on Black Trans Women.” CR-CL, 2020. 

Human Rights Campaign. An Epidemic of Violence: Fatal Violence Against Transgender and Gender Non-Conforming People in the United States. 2024. 

Human Rights Campaign. “HRC Honors Frances Thompson, a Black Transgender Hero.” Human Rights Campaign, 2020. https://www.hrc.org/news/hrc-honors-frances-thompson-a-black-Transgender-hero. 

Human Rights Campaign. “Remembering Ra’Laisia Wright, Young Black Latina Transgender Woman.” Human Rights Campaign, 2024. https://www.hrc.org/news/remembering-ralasia-wright-young-black-latina-Transgender-woman. 

Human Rights Watch. “I Just Try to Make It Home Safe”: Violence and the Human Rights of Transgender People in the United States. 2021. 

National Women’s History Museum. “Andrea Jenkins.” NWHM, 2022. https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/andrea-jenkins. 

National Women’s History Museum. “Marsha P. Johnson.” NWHM, 2022. https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/marsha-p-johnson. 

The Trevor Project. “Transgender and Nonbinary Youth Resources.” The Trevor Project, 2024. https://www.thetrevorproject.org.