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.