SpaceLab
For the final day in Black History month I want to feature one of the most successful Black American transgender women in the entertainment industry whose career marked several major firsts in mainstream media, Laverne Cox. Laverne Cox was born in Mobile, Alabama and studied dance and acting before building a career in New York. She became widely known for playing Sophia Burset on the Netflix series Orange Is the New Black, one of the first recurring television roles where a trans woman was portrayed by a trans woman on a major scripted series. The character was written as a full person with family, work, and relationships rather than a stereotype or plot twist. In 2014 she became the first openly transgender person nominated for a Primetime Emmy Award in an acting category. That same year she appeared on the cover of TIME magazine, which introduced many people to conversations about transgender identity in everyday life. Beyond acting, she has spoken publicly about issues such as incarceration, healthcare access, and identification documents, often connecting her own experiences to broader social realities. Cox’s impact comes from normalization. For many viewers, she was the first time they saw a Black trans woman presented with dignity and complexity in a mainstream television series, helping shift public perception from curiosity to recognition.
For today, I want to highlight Jari Jones, a Black American transgender woman working in fashion and creative direction. Jari Jones is a model, writer, and creative producer from New York. She became widely recognized in 2020 when she was featured in a Calvin Klein Pride campaign, making her one of the first Black trans women included prominently in a major global fashion advertisement. Before modeling, she worked behind the scenes in production and creative development for film, theater, and fashion projects. Her significance comes from authorship and visibility in creative industries that historically excluded Black trans women. Rather than only appearing in front of the camera, she has been involved in shaping campaigns and storytelling, advocating for trans people to be part of decision making roles within fashion and media production.
Today, I want to highlight Ts Madison. Ts Madison (Madison Hinton) is a Black American transgender entrepreneur, internet personality, and host. She first gained attention in the early 2010s through viral online videos and later created her own talk show and media brand. In 2021 she became the first Black transgender woman to star in and executive produce her own reality television series (The Ts Madison Experience on WE tv). Her significance comes from business ownership and self-produced media rather than traditional activism. By building her own platform, she demonstrated a path where a Black trans woman could control production, branding, and storytelling rather than waiting to be cast or approved by existing institutions.
Today I want to discuss Earline Budd, a Black transgender woman known for decades of grassroots community work in San Francisco. Earline Budd is a longtime organizer in the Tenderloin neighborhood and has worked with organizations serving LGBTQ seniors and low income residents. Much of her advocacy has focused on practical support: helping transgender people find housing, access social services, and navigate city systems that can be confusing or hostile. She has also worked with programs supporting older LGBTQ adults, emphasizing that trans people need stability and care not only when young, but as they age. Her significance comes from sustained local leadership. Rather than national fame, Budd is known within her community as someone who consistently shows up, connects people to resources, and helps residents advocate for themselves with city agencies. Her work highlights a part of Black trans history that often goes unrecognized: long term neighborhood organizing and daily support that quietly improves people’s lives.
For today, I want to highlight Hope Giselle, a Black transgender woman whose work centers on education and community support. Hope Giselle is a writer, speaker, and community organizer from Miami, Florida. She began advocacy work through local outreach supporting LGBTQ youth and later worked with national organizations focused on equality and media representation. Much of her work involves training schools, companies, and community groups on how to treat transgender people respectfully in everyday settings rather than only during public crises. She is also the author of Becoming Hope, a memoir about growing up Black and transgender in the South, discussing family relationships, religion, identity, and survival. Her public speaking and workshops often focus on practical understanding — how teachers, employers, and families can create safer environments for trans people. Giselle’s contribution comes from education: translating lived experience into guidance that helps institutions change behavior, not just language.
Today's amazing woman is CeCé Telfer, a Black transgender woman whose achievements came through athletics rather than media or entertainment. CeCé Telfer is a Jamaican American track and field athlete who competed for Franklin Pierce University. In 2019 she won the NCAA Division II national championship in the 400 meter hurdles, becoming the first openly transgender woman to win an NCAA track and field title. Her victory placed a Black trans woman into national sports history in a space where trans athletes had rarely been visible. After her collegiate career she pursued professional competition while also speaking about her experiences navigating eligibility rules and scrutiny directed at transgender athletes. Telfer’s significance comes from participation itself. Sports had long been one of the most restrictive environments for transgender people, and her championship demonstrated that trans women were not hypothetical participants in athletics but real competitors with documented accomplishments.
Today, I want to highlight Janetta Johnson, a Black transgender woman whose work has focused on housing, safety, and prison justice. Janetta Johnson is a San Francisco–based community leader and the Chief Executive Officer of the Transgender Gender-Variant & Intersex Justice Project (TGIJP). She has worked for years advocating for incarcerated transgender people and for trans individuals navigating reentry after prison, areas where discrimination and violence are especially severe. Much of her work centers on very practical needs such as housing, legal assistance, and protection from abuse within detention systems. Her advocacy is grounded in lived experience. Johnson has spoken openly about surviving homelessness, criminalization, and incarceration earlier in her life, which shaped her commitment to helping others avoid the same outcomes. Through organizing, public education, and community programs, she has helped push conversations about transgender rights beyond visibility and into issues of safety, housing stability, and dignity, particularly for Black trans women who are disproportionately affected by incarceration and housing insecurity.
Today, I want to highlight Zaya Wade, a Black transgender girl whose visibility has helped many young people feel less alone. Zaya Wade is the daughter of former NBA player Dwyane Wade and actor Gabrielle Union-Wade. In 2020, her parents publicly affirmed her gender identity, and in 2023 she received a legal name and gender marker change. Since then, she has appeared at events and in interviews discussing bullying, youth mental health, and acceptance, often focusing on what support from family can look like for transgender children. While she is still young, her importance comes from representation at an earlier stage of life than most public trans figures. Many conversations about transgender people historically centered adults, but Zaya’s public presence brought attention to trans youth, family support, and school environments. Her story has helped open broader discussions about how communities and parents can support transgender kids as they grow up.
Today, I want to highlight someone that most people should know, Peppermint. Peppermint (born Agnes Moore) is an African American transgender woman, singer, actress, and drag performer based in New York City. She was active in the New York drag and nightlife scene for many years before becoming widely known as the runner up on RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 9 in 2017, where she was the first openly transgender woman to compete on the show from the start of the season. In 2018, she made history on Broadway in the musical Head Over Heels, becoming the first openly transgender woman to originate a principal role on Broadway. She has continued working in theatre, music, and television, including stage performances and appearances connected to LGBTQ community events and Pride celebrations. Peppermint’s significance comes from visibility in spaces that historically excluded trans women. Rather than being known primarily for policy advocacy, she is recognized for her performing career and for being one of the first Black trans women many mainstream audiences encountered positively through entertainment and theatre.
Today I want to highlight Aria Sa'id, a Black transgender woman whose work has focused on housing, safety, and economic stability for trans people. Aria Sa’id is a San Francisco based organizer and advocate who co-founded the Transgender District in the Tenderloin, recognized as the first legally recognized transgender cultural district in the world. The project was created to preserve a historic neighborhood where trans women, particularly Black trans women, had lived for decades while also addressing displacement, homelessness, and violence. Her work goes beyond symbolic recognition. The district supports housing initiatives, workforce programs, and economic development aimed specifically at transgender residents. Sa’id’s leadership reflects a long standing reality in Black trans history: many of the most important changes come not from visibility alone, but from creating stable places where people can live, work, and remain in their own communities without being pushed out.
Today I want to present Ashlee Marie Preston. Ashlee is an African American transgender writer, communications strategist, and activist based in California. She first became known through online commentary and blogging, where she wrote about race, policing, poverty, and transphobia from her own lived experience as a Black trans woman. Much of her early public work focused on how Black trans women were often excluded even within broader LGBTQ spaces and how media narratives frequently ignored violence affecting them. She later moved into political communications and advocacy work, including serving as a surrogate during the 2020 U.S. presidential primary, which made her one of the first openly transgender people to hold a visible role in a national campaign communications effort. Beyond electoral politics, Preston has spoken publicly about incarceration, homelessness, and reentry, drawing from her own past experiences to argue for rehabilitation and social support systems rather than purely punitive approaches. Her public presence has always been tied to conversation and accountability. Preston often uses media appearances, writing, and speaking to challenge both institutions and community spaces about race, misogyny, and respectability politics. Her work reflects a broader pattern in Black trans history where visibility is used not simply for representation, but to force discussions about who receives safety, opportunity, and dignity in practice rather than in theory.
For today, I want to highlight Imani Barbarin, a Black transgender woman whose advocacy connects disability justice and social equity. Imani Barbarin is a writer and public speaker known for her work in disability rights and accessibility advocacy. Through essays, speaking engagements, and online education, she has helped people understand how race, disability, and gender identity intersect in everyday life. Her work emphasizes that access to healthcare, transportation, employment, and safety are civil rights issues, not optional accommodations. What makes her impact important is how she broadens conversations. Rather than separating movements, she explains how marginalized communities often face overlapping barriers and why solutions must include everyone. Her writing and education have helped many people recognize accessibility as a shared responsibility, showing that Black trans women are not only part of social movements but leaders shaping how justice is understood.
Today's wonderful woman is Janet Mock, a famous Black transgender woman whose work changed how many people first understood trans lives. Janet Mock is a writer, speaker, and cultural commentator born in Honolulu who became widely known after publishing her memoir Redefining Realness in 2014. The book was one of the first bestselling memoirs by a Black trans woman and openly discussed growing up trans, family relationships, poverty, and finding identity in her own words rather than through media stereotypes. It reached readers who had never heard a trans person narrate their own life before. Her visibility mattered because she insisted on control over her story. Instead of being interviewed only about transition, she spoke about education, relationships, safety, and dignity. By appearing on national media and publishing widely read work, she helped move public conversation from curiosity about trans people toward listening to them. Janet Mock’s influence helped create space where later generations of Black trans women could speak publicly about their lives without being treated as a spectacle.
Today, I want to remember Koko Da Doll, a Black transgender woman whose life was centered on telling the truth about survival. Koko Da Doll, born Rasheeda Williams, was an Atlanta based Black trans woman who became known through the documentary Kokomo City, where she spoke openly about the realities Black trans women face, including housing insecurity, sex work, safety, and community. What made her presence powerful was how direct and human she was. She wasn’t framed as a symbol or a debate topic. She spoke about everyday life, humor, friendship, fear, and resilience in her own words. In 2023 she was killed in Atlanta, becoming one of many Black trans women lost to violence. After her death, the film reached wider audiences and many people encountered her story for the first time. Remembering Koko is not only about tragedy, but about listening to what she was already saying while she was alive: that Black trans women are often forced to create their own support systems and protect each other because broader society frequently fails to. Her voice continues to matter because it documented lived experience, not theory, and it reminds people that behind every statistic is a full person who had a life, relationships, and a future that should have been possible.
Today I want to highlight Tracey Norman, a Black transgender woman who quietly made history in fashion years before the industry was willing to acknowledge it. Tracey Norman began modeling in the early 1970s and quickly found success, appearing in major campaigns and magazines including Essence. At the time, she was living openly as a woman and working professionally in an industry that had rigid expectations around gender and image. For several years she modeled without public controversy, building a legitimate career based on talent and presence rather than novelty. Her career changed when people in the industry discovered she was transgender, and she was suddenly shut out of modeling work despite her success. The silence around her removal reflected how the industry handled trans people for decades. Years later, her story resurfaced and she returned to modeling, finally receiving recognition for what she had already accomplished. Tracey Norman’s life shows that Black trans women were shaping mainstream culture long before society was ready to give them credit, and that many pioneers were erased not because they lacked talent, but because they existed openly.
Since it's Friday the 13th I want today's black trans woman to be Angelica Ross, who made history inside a major modern horror franchise. Angelica Ross appeared in multiple seasons of American Horror Story, including 1984 and later Red Tide, becoming one of the first Black trans women to hold a recurring acting role within a mainstream horror anthology series. Horror has a long history of using gender variance as a twist, a disguise, or a source of fear, but Ross’s characters were written as actual people within the story rather than metaphors about transness. She existed in the genre as a character first, not a reveal. What makes this significant is how different it is from earlier horror eras. For decades, trans identity in horror was something written by outsiders and attached to villains or shock endings. Ross’s presence marked a shift where a Black trans woman was not the horror device, but a participant in the narrative world itself. Her work helped move horror from depicting transness as something frightening toward allowing trans people to occupy space in the genre as performers, creators, and storytellers.
Today's black trans woman to highlight is The Lady Chablis, a Black transgender woman whose presence and personality made her a local legend long before trans visibility was common. The Lady Chablis was born in 1957 and grew up in Georgia, eventually making Savannah her home. She lived openly as a woman in the South during a time when doing so carried real danger and social risk. Known for her sharp humor and confidence, she became a fixture at Club One, where she performed cabaret and built a reputation not just as an entertainer but as a personality people came specifically to see. Her life gained wider attention when she appeared as herself in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, refusing to tone herself down or be presented as a joke. What made Lady Chablis significant was how ordinary she insisted her life was. She did not present herself as a symbol or spokesperson. She simply lived openly, wrote her memoir, and demanded to be addressed with respect, even correcting people who misgendered her in public and on camera. In a region and era where many trans women had to remain hidden to stay safe, her unapologetic visibility helped normalize the idea that a Black trans woman could exist publicly, socially, and confidently as herself.
TodayI want to highlight CeCe McDonald, a Black transgender woman whose story brought national attention to how self defense and survival are treated differently for trans women, especially Black trans women. CeCe McDonald was a young trans woman living in Minneapolis in 2011 when she and friends were harassed outside a bar with racist and transphobic slurs. The confrontation turned violent and McDonald was physically attacked. During the assault she defended herself, and one of the attackers later died from injuries. Instead of being treated as a victim of a hate motivated attack, she was prosecuted and ultimately sentenced to prison. Her case sparked widespread conversation because many people saw how systems failed to protect her long before the incident. While incarcerated she advocated for herself and other trans prisoners, including issues around safety and placement. After her release she continued speaking about criminal justice, violence, and the realities trans women face when trying simply to survive. CeCe McDonald’s story highlights how survival itself can become criminalized, and why so many Black trans women have historically had to fight not just individuals, but institutions, for recognition and safety.
Today's wonderful woman is Mya Taylor, a Black transgender woman whose life story represents resilience and visibility in a way that felt new at the time it happened. Mya Taylor grew up in Texas and experienced homelessness and survival sex work after being rejected by family as a teenager. For years she lived on the margins, navigating safety, housing, and basic stability while still holding onto humor and self confidence. Her life changed when she was cast in the independent film Tangerine (2015), where she played a character inspired by experiences she knew firsthand. Her performance earned her an Independent Spirit Award, making her the first openly transgender actor to win a major U.S. film acting award. More than the award itself, her impact came from audiences seeing a Black trans woman portrayed with personality, flaws, and humanity rather than tragedy alone. Taylor’s visibility helped open doors for future performers and reminded people that trans women had always been telling their own stories, even when the world was not listening. Mya's performance in Tangerine is actually in my top 5 favorite supporting actress performances of the 2010s and I wish and hope she gets more work in the future.
Today I wanted to highlight Sir Lady Java, an African American transgender woman whose fight against policing and discrimination happened years before most organized LGBTQ rights protections existed. Sir Lady Java was a Black transgender woman living in Los Angeles during the 1960s who worked as an entertainer in local nightclubs. At the time, the city enforced “Rule No. 9,” a regulation that allowed police to shut down performances by anyone they believed was impersonating another gender. Rather than quietly stepping away, she directly challenged the rule, organizing protests and bringing public attention to how gender nonconforming people were being criminalized simply for existing in public spaces. Although the courts ultimately dismissed her case, the pressure surrounding her fight contributed to the repeal of the policy not long afterward. Her activism predated many well known LGBTQ legal victories and showed early resistance to policing of gender expression. Sir Lady Java’s story reminds us that Black trans women were contesting discriminatory laws long before broader movements recognized them, laying groundwork for freedoms many people now take for granted.