57 years ago
Honoring the Legacy of Stonewall and the Black and Brown Trans Activists Who Fought for Our Freedom
This is a photo of Gay Liberation, a sculpture by George Segal that honors the gay rights movement and commemorates the events of June 28, 1969, at the Stonewall Inn, located in New York City’s Greenwich Village.
The Stonewall Inn
The Stonewall Inn, located at 51–53 Christopher Street, was originally two adjacent stable houses built in the 1840s. By the 1960s, Stonewall had opened as a private club, bar, and dance hall that, like many places in Greenwich Village, served the gay community at a time when LGBTQIA+ people were criminalized, policed, and denied safety in public life.
In the early hours of June 28, 1969, police raided the Stonewall Inn. Thirteen people were arrested, and the community fought back. Word of the raid and the resistance spread quickly. The next day, hundreds gathered to protest the crackdown and advocate for the legalization of gay bars. More protests followed in early July, and on July 27, activists organized one of the first gay and lesbian marches from Washington Square to Stonewall.
The events of that summer are often remembered as a flashpoint for the modern LGBTQIA+ rights movement in the United States.
We Must Remember
When we think about Stonewall, we must remember the Black, Brown, trans, gender-nonconforming, queer, migrant, and working-class people who fought, organized, cared for one another, and built community when the world refused to protect them.
Marsha P. Johnson
Marsha P. Johnson was a Black trans woman, drag queen, and beloved community leader in Greenwich Village. She is widely remembered as one of the people who resisted police violence and helped ignite a larger movement. Alongside Sylvia Rivera, she cared for LGBTQIA+ community members who were unhoused, abandoned, criminalized, sick, and dying during the HIV/AIDS crisis, when so many doctors, families, institutions, and systems turned away.
Sylvia Rivera
Sylvia Rivera was a Latina transgender woman and activist born in New York. She fought on the frontlines for queer and trans liberation and later worked with Marsha P. Johnson to advocate for the most vulnerable members of the community, especially trans people, street queens, unhoused youth, and those pushed to the margins even within the broader LGBTQIA+ movement.
Stormé DeLarverie
Stormé DeLarverie was a butch lesbian performer and activist from New Orleans whose resistance to police brutality during the initial Stonewall raid is often remembered as one of the sparks that moved the crowd into action. Her courage, protection, and lifelong care for the community are part of this history as well.
Miss Major Griffin-Gracy
Miss Major Griffin-Gracy was a Black trans woman, Stonewall veteran, formerly incarcerated organizer, and lifelong advocate for transgender women of color, incarcerated people, and those pushed out of safety and belonging. Her life’s work reminds us that liberation is not just about rights on paper. It is about survival, protection, dignity, housing, healthcare, community, and care.
The queer community would be nowhere without Black and Brown trans activists
What I know now, definitively, is that the queer community would be nowhere without Black and Brown trans activists. My rights as a polyamorous, pansexual cis woman did not appear out of nowhere. They were fought for. They were organized for. They were protected by people who risked their safety, their freedom, their bodies, and their lives.
Because of their painstaking, heartfelt, community-rooted work, I get to love who I love. I get to live with who I want to live with. I get to wave my Pride flag with joy, glee, and sometimes foolishness—but also in grief, reverence, and remembrance of our elders and ancestors.
And still, the fight is not over.
The LGBTQIA+ community is under attack: our rights, our safety, our healthcare, our families, and our way of life. This is especially true for our trans community. Gender-affirming care is being dismantled across the country. Trans people, especially Black trans women and trans women of color, continue to face devastating levels of violence.
There is a wave of hate happening.
But there is also a wave of love.
A wave so big it can overflow this stolen land we live on and change hearts, minds, communities, and hopefully systems.
We have to care
We have to engage in our communities in an authentic and genuine way. We have to show up. We have to be transformational in the way we move. We cannot take and take and give nothing in return.
We have to protect and support Black and Brown LGBTQIA+ communities, migrant communities, local businesses, organizers, artists, and caretakers.
We have to care.
It all starts there—just by caring.
When I was 17 years old
When I was 17 years old, I visited New York City for a show choir competition. I took this photo in Greenwich Village, and it was the first time I learned about Stonewall.
I read the plaque, and I remember feeling like I knew a lot about LGBTQIA+ history. I had prided myself on knowing important milestones.
But of course, I didn’t know everything. I certainly did not know what I know now.
When I look back at this photo, I think about how much history I was standing inside of without fully understanding it yet. I think about Marsha, Sylvia, Stormé, Miss Major, and so many others whose names we know—and whose names we may never know. I think about the people who fought so that the rest of us could live more freely.
And I remember them today as I continue doing my part to fight for queer rights in all of our communities: trans, nonbinary, gay, lesbian, intersex, bisexual, queer, asexual, pansexual, and everyone still fighting to be safe, seen, loved, and free.
