HISTORY & CULTURE

These Black transgender activists are fighting to ‘simply be’

Joshua Rashaad McFadden says the people in his photographs are more than their most painful moments. In this photo essay, he celebrates their full humanity.

Photographs and video byJoshua Rashaad McFadden

Text byAmy McKeever

July 18, 2023

9 min read

This is one of eight stories from The Past Is Present project, a collaboration between National Geographic and For Freedoms.

They were on the front lines at the Stonewall riots—and then again at the protests that erupted across the United States after the killing of George Floyd.

Black transgender and nonbinary activists have long made history fighting for civil rights for all people. But are others fighting for their rights—or honoring their lives?

Photographer Joshua Rashaad McFadden asked himself that question after the May 2020 killing of Tony McDade, a Black transgender man who was shot by police in Tallahassee, Florida. Unlike the public outcry that emerged after other police killings, McDade’s death was largely ignored. The disconnect unsettled McFadden, and inspired him.

McFadden spent the next year chronicling the lives and experiences of Black transgender and nonbinary people across the U.S. But rather than focus on the pain and injustices they’ve faced—or their transition, which is usually what mainstream media finds most titillating—McFadden celebrated the humanity of his subjects.

These are their stories—including their responses to the question, “What is your idea of freedom?”

Nance Musinguzi, Minneapolis, MinnesotaBorn in New York City to two immigrant parents, Nance Musinguzi (they/them) came to Minneapolis for an artist residency program and found something remarkable: a community of color filled with immigrants and queer and trans people. Becoming part of this community helped them realize they didn’t have to apologize for being their authentic self.

Black trans people rarely have the freedom to shape their own lives this way, Musinguzi says—a result of laws enacted by people who don’t look like them or value them. “We have to create our own language to get to those freedoms because based on America’s conventional ways of defining freedom, we’re never going to see it,” they say.

Musinguzi’s passion for cycling was inspired by their father, who told stories of finding freedom on two wheels. Musinguzi often rides over the Stone Arch Bridge, pictured here, on their commute through their chosen city.

Rehema Martinez, Minneapolis, MinnesotaWhen she was 15, Rehema Martinez (she/them/they) moved to the United States alone from Australia, where she lived with their adopted family. She moved from state to state, searching for their biological family. Martinez was really searching for a community. In Minneapolis, Martinez found a chosen family through a local transgender youth support group—and the freedom to love themselves without feeling oppressed. “I think that's the purpose of the journey,” she says. “I think it's finding yourself and loving yourself at the end of the day. If you feel free enough to do that, that is what I would call freedom.” McFadden photographed Martinez at the Minnesota Transgender Health Coalition, which helps the community access hormones and other gender-affirming needs—and is located on the same block where George Floyd was killed.

Freedom is the goal, but as a Black person, we have yet to feel such a thing. Until we can have inclusion among us all and be united as one, that is the first step in achieving freedom. Freedom is a dream that we all have but then wake up and lose our sense of direction. Fuzzy, It may appear, but it gets clearer with each step.
Rehema Martinez

Cris Avery, Atlanta, GeorgiaIt can be incredibly difficult for transgender people to access healthcare and other support services. Cris Avery (he/him) is working to change that. “Being free means universal health care because then I have free access to take care of my body [and] mental health,” he says.

Avery began his journey in LGBTQ advocacy in the Bronx, New York. But the stress of divorce and a longing for a new start after his transition prompted him to move with his daughter to Atlanta, Georgia. With D’Jamel Young, he co-founded the nonprofit organization TMSM Connect, an advocacy and support organization focusing on the needs of trans men.

McFadden photographed Avery at Solutions Not Punishments, a Black trans and queer-led organization that seeks to end gender-based violence and mass criminalization. But who is he when oppression isn’t a factor? “I'm a dad. I'm a partner. I'm a son, uncle, an artist, writer, dancer, musician,” he tells McFadden. “I'm a multifaceted person.”

Freedom is the ability to simply…BE. No expectations, no rules, no judgment! Just you being your authentic self. Freedom is breaking down all barriers that hinder your existence. Freedom is feeling, thinking, and showing that your unique spirit is worthy of love and acceptance. Freedom is smiling through all the pain, fear, and disappointment. Freedom is overcoming. Freedom is sacrifice. Freedom is…
D’Jamel Young

Tanyun Montage, Jackson, MississippiTanyun Montage (he/him) hadn’t yet started his transition when he went to barber school. Being feminine, he found, meant that he had to work extra hard to prove himself. “I couldn't just walk through those doors and just be a typical student, I had to make a name because of my gender,” he says. “Once I did that, and I was successful with that, I gained so much respect.”

Now a barber in Jackson, Mississippi, Montage is also the father of the House of Montage, his chosen family. He attributes the “birth” of Tanyun Montage to a local LGBTQ venue called Club Couture City Lights, where he has long been a performer. McFadden photographed Montage at the club—a space that is akin to a second home.

Freedom to me is the ability to be able to live in my true skin as a Black queer transman. Freedom is being able to stand with my LGBTQ+ community in solidarity for our rights and privilege. Freedom is what we fight for on a daily within our community. Freedom means that love is love, and we can love unapologetically.
Tanyun Montage

Tori Cooper, Atlanta, GeorgiaTori Cooper (she/her) is a lot of things—a Black trans woman, an only child, a health and equity advocate, an educator, a community organizer, and a serious fan of house music. But ultimately, she says, she’s “just a person who seeks to spread a little joy.” Professionally, Cooper spreads joy as director of community engagement for the Human Rights Campaign’s Transgender Justice Initiative, where she runs programs that promote everything from economic empowerment to public safety for transgender communities. In her personal life, Cooper has found her place in a community of “house heads”—house music obsessives who attend Atlanta’s annual House in the Park festival. Cooper says that chosen families offer a home for trans people whose families have turned their backs on them or who, like her own, don’t understand them.

Evonne T. Kaho, Jackson, MississippiIt wasn't until after college that Evonne T. Kaho (she/her) decided to fully embrace her truth. Until that point, she had lived as a gay male but her debut as a drag performer helped her realize how much more comfortable she was being a woman.

Kaho’s biological family didn’t accept her transition at first. She cut off contact with them, soon discovering that she could form a different kind of family: a gay family. A trans woman took Kaho under her wing as her gay mother “and molded me into the woman that I am today.” Kaho now has children who look up to her as their mother.

More than 20 years later, she owns the nightclub where it all started: City Lights in Jackson, Mississippi. She also founded an organization called Love Me Unlimited 4 Life, which aims to help the local transgender community reach their goals and fulfill their potential. She believes her calling is to be a voice for her community.

Let my people be free and their self!!!
Evonne T. Kaho

Shaheim Page, Atlanta, GeorgiaHow do you talk to your family about your trans identity? It's a universal question—and for Shaheim Page (he/him), the answer crystallized in a somewhat unexpected place: church.

Page isn't usually a churchgoer but decided to accompany his aunt to church one day in Augusta, Georgia—only to have her introduce him to fellow congregants using his true identity. "That moment in the church became the model for how I spoke to other family members on ways that they can introduce me," he says. "If you want me to be in your life, one way of respecting it is introducing me, and I will do the rest."

McFadden photographed Page at a church in Atlanta that reminds him of the place where he first experienced that powerful moment of affirmation.

Freedom is not having to fight so hard for people to be themselves. Freedom is the ability to just flow into existence without systems in place to block that path.
Shaheim Page

Joshua Rashaad McFadden, is a visual artist as well as an Assistant Professor of Photography at Rochester Institute of Technology. He uses portraiture and archival imagery to explore identity, gender, the Black archive, race, and sexuality. Follow him on Instagram @joshua_rashaad.

This is one of eight stories from The Past Is Present project, a collaboration between National Geographic and For Freedoms.