The Stonewall Protests: Abolition is Liberation
November 19th:
I arrive at the protest outside Stonewall Inn at 5:40 pm. While many protesters grace tight dresses and skirts, beautiful monochrome outfits matching the “favorite color” theme this week, I stand in layers of sweatshirts, having traded comfort for warmth. It is overcast and chilly. Wind whips at wigs and eyelashes. I hug my friends and awkwardly wave at acquaintances in a more COVID-friendly greeting. We are waiting for the protest to start, dancing to music bumping from speakers. There are more journalists here than most weeks. Unlike the protest photographers, these are ”real” journalists with real press badges.
A few weeks ago, Chae Khin, one of the protest journalists, was violently arrested. Protesters reacted in horror on social media, accusing the NYPD of targeting journalists. The NYPD responded via twitter,
It is being reported on social media that earlier today members of the press were arrested during a protest in Manhattan.
These reports are false.
All arrested individuals from today’s protests have been verified to not be NYPD credentialed members of the press.
This response did not go over well in the NYC protest community. The tweet was widely mocked on Instagram. On Twitter, one person replied, “The police don’t get to decide who does and doesn’t get first amendment protection.”
Another posted,
“It is being reported on social media that the NYPD are fascists. These reports are true.”
The NYPD decides who gets press credentials, which means when the NYPD arrests a CNN journalist, it is an attack on democracy; but when they arrest a protest journalist, it’s a Saturday. And the mainstream press isn’t covering the protests anymore. So the only press at the protests are the “non-press press” who the police do not recognize as journalists.
Except for today. I assume the increased mainstream press coverage is due to Trans Awareness Week. Stonewall is a trans awareness march, but it is not for Trans Awareness Week. The Stonewall protests, led by Qween Jean (@qween_jean) and Joel Rivera (@joelriveraaa), have been happening every Thursday since June 18th, and they show no sign of slowing down. At Stonewall, Trans Awareness Week is every week. But for the world, Trans Awareness Week starts November 13th and ends November 19th, so tonight we are surrounded by cameras.
A woman pulls out gold glitter and I let her paint it on my face, both of us laughing. Everyone is wearing masks, but not necessarily following the six foot rule. Most protesters are getting tested for COVID as often as possible. Protesters are trying to protect each other without creating distance; it is a careful balance in the pandemic. These are marches where people hand out hugs and hand sanitizer. No New York City protests have turned into super spreader events…yet.
6 pm: the protest has not started yet. One of my friends is huddled next to Neptunite, an organizer. She is showing him a photo of a suspicious man lurking on the edge of the protest. An Instagram account has already posted a warning about the man.
“If you at stonewall, watch out for this obvious pig,” reads the Instagram post. The NYPD often sends undercover cops to infiltrate protests. I don’t know what information these cops hope to glean; protesters aren’t very secretive about their intentions. It feels like another scare tactic. A scare tactic like the weekly arrests. Most nights, the police surround the protests in full riot gear. They hold their batons in their hands like they are planning to attack, while protesters dance in the street.
But today there are almost no police, either due to criticism over election week arrests or the increased press presence. On November 4th and 5th, police arrested dozens of peaceful protestors in a terrifying show of force.
I worry more about undercover agents than mass arrests, if only because they undermine the community sentiment of Stonewall. Neptunite squints at the photo on my friend’s phone. He pulls out a business card, one the man gave him earlier. Interim Senior Advisor for LGBTQ Community Affairs, Community Affairs Unit. In layman’s terms, City Hall’s LGBTQ laison.
“Bill de Blasio doesn’t do shit for black lives” someone in the group states; we nod in agreement. Mayor Bill de Blasio supported the NYPD while they committed human rights violations against BLM protestors in the summer, including when the cops pepper-sprayed the Queer Liberation Parade honoring the June 18th anniversary of the Stonewall riots. Last year, the NYPD commissioner officially apologized for police brutality and discrimination committed at the Stonewall riots fifty years prior. I am sure, if the NYPD is not abolished, in fifty years the NYPD commisioner will be “officially apologizing” for the police brutality and discrimination protesters have experienced all summer.
Later, after the protest, I send Jayson Littman an email, asking for a statement. He replied within a day:
Thanks for the note. I’m also CCing Jose Bayona from the Mayor’s Press Office as an FYI.
The City of New York supports everyone’s First Amendment right to protest and ensures that events such as the Stonewall protests take place. As Mayor de Blasio’s liaison to the LGBTQ community, I attend as a member of the community, a supporter of the movement, and to serve as an observer and bridge between the LGBTQ community and government agencies to ensure the happenings of the evening are reported accurately to City officials.
I send the email to Neptunite with a note attached “Should I tell [Littman] that arresting people is not ‘ensuring events such as the Stonewall protests take place?’”
“Making arrests doesn’t mean that the marches don’t take place. Besides I don’t think he was there the night people got arrested during election week” Neptunite replies. The liaison was likely sent in response to the election night arrests I realize. Neptunite says instead I should ask, “how effective would being a liaison be if the mayor don’t be listenin?” I let the issue rest, doubting I would get a response from Littman to either question not steeped in PC corporate — speak.
Black trans women don’t need a community liaison to report their activities to City Hall and publish empty statements. They need action. Radical action. Soon. Preferably yesterday. In 2016, a study came out reviewing the experiences of 28,000 in 2015. In 2015, 61% of black trans respondents experienced police mistreatment. 4% of black trans respondents had been imprisoned compared to 0.9% of the general population. Almost half of black trans people in prison experienced sexual assault. This is why the Stonewall Protests support defunding the police, abolishing prisons, and reinvesting in education and housing. Trans rights means destroying institutions created to uphold the economic hierarchy and social mores that benefit white, upper-class, cisgender male citizens and replacing them with instituitions that serve everyone. There is no space in this movement for Bill de Blasio’s empty pride day tweets.
6: 10 pm: a singing voice pulls our attention to the steps of 55 Christopher Street. Queen jean. She was featured in the Out 100 list of LGBTQ+ people making a “groundbreaking, ripple-inducing, and culture-shifting impact” on the world. We sing Qween Jean’s words back to her.
black trans are beautiful
black trans are beautiful
black trans are worthy
black trans are worthy
The journalists snap to attention, and take frantic photos of Qween in her dazzling yellow dress. She pays them no attention. “Hey everybody! Hey fam, happy thursday.” She always calls the Stonewall protesters her family. “This week has taught me the importance of family. How important family is when you are growing, when you are evolving, and ultimately, when you are on your way to liberation.” She talks about the Stonewall Protests for a moment. And she addresses the cold, “family, if it’s raining, we pulling up. If it’s cold, we pulling up. If it’s snowing, we slowly pulling into the other lane, but we’ll be here.” I have no doubt the Stonewall protests will continue through the winter. Then she introduces a young woman, her chosen daughter.
The young woman introduces herself as Laboujienata, a Black Queer Muslim Trans Womxn. Laboujienata talks about coming out as trans to her family that week; they kicked her out. The story is sickenly familiar, 44% of black trans women in the 2015 study were either kicked out or ran away from their home after coming out. More than 50% of black trans women experience homelessness at some point in their lives, partly due to lack of familial support (as well as lack of economic opportunity and housing discrimination). The young women’s story sounds sickenly familiar, until it’s not. She was able to safely leave her home with Qween Jean and other activists. When she experienced verbal abuse from her siblings, she refused to internalize it. “Well fuck that.” She said, eyes blazing.
“I had something a lot of people don’t have.” She told us, “I have love, I have support. The love I have received this week has been like no other.”
Queen Jean took over speaking to tell us Stonewall is a family, and it is worth fighting for. Black trans women are worthy of any amount of struggle necessary to protect their lives. These protests have not yet defunded the police or repealed the “Walking While Trans” law. We are a long way from burning down the United States system of government or ending transphobia. But I know this community has already saved lives just by existing.
Queen Jean calls us to silence and Laboujienata reads the names of trans people murdered in 2020.
Dustin Parker, McAlester, Oklahoma, Jan. 1
Alexa Neulisa Luciano Ruiz, Toa Baja, Puerto Rico, Feb. 1
Yampi Méndez Arocho, Moca, Puerto Rico, March 5
Monica Diamond, Charlotte, N, March 18
Lexi, New York, NY, March 28
Scottlyn DeVore, Georgia, March
Johanna Metzger, Baltimore, MD, April 11
Penélope Díaz Ramírez, Bayamon, Puerto Rico, April 13
Layla Pelaez Sánchez, Puerto Rico, April 21
Serena Angelique Velázquez Ramos, Puerto Rico, April 21
Nina Pop, Sikeston, MO, May 3
Helle Jae O’Regan, San Antonio, TX, May 6
Jayne Thompson, Mesa County, CO, May 9
Tony McDade, Tallahassee, FL, May 27
Selena Reyes Hernandez, Chicago, IL, May 31
Dominique “Rem’mie” Fells, Philadelphia, PA, June 8
Riah Milton, Liberty Township, OH, June 9
Brian “Egypt” Powers, Akron, OH, July 13
Brayla Stone, Sherwood, AR, June 25
Merci Mack, Dallas, TX, June 30
Shaki Peters, Amite City, LA, July 1
Aja Raquell Rhone-Spears, Portland, OR, July 25
Kee Sam, Lafayette LA, August 13
Lea Rayshon Daye, Cleveland, OH, August 30
Aerrion Burnett, MO, Sept. 19
Mia Green, Philadelphia, PA, Sept. 30
Michelle Vargas, San German, Puerto Rico, Sept. 30
Felycya Harris, Augusta, GA, Oct. 3
Brooklyn Smith, Shreveport, LA, Oct 7
Sara Blackwood, Indianapolis, Oct. 11
Angel Unique, Memphis, TN, Oct. 25
Yuni Carey, Miami, Nov. 17
In the imperfect silence, alive with the sounds of shuffling feet and breathing, I wonder how many names are missing from the list. Jayne Thompson was not identified as trans until months after she was shot and killed by a Colorado Patrolman because the media continually misgendered her.
After a few more speeches, we begin to march. Riders4Rights, a community of bikers, shuts down the streets as we march through. They are the front line against cars and police alike. Musicians United provides music. We walk past a restaurant serving white patrons in literal bubbles. Queen Jean doubles back, the metaphor too good to ignore. “I just wanted to inform you that while you were eating your nice dinners there are black trans women out here starving.” She said, “look at all the beauty you are missing your bubble of privilege.” We keep walking after a few minutes. I was handed a flag at the begining of the march and am doing a poor job keeping it out of people’s faces.
We stop and create a dance circle, which quickly becomes a twerking competition. I look for police, but they are a block away, almost out of sight. It makes the night feel lighter. Someone donates $10 to give to the winner of the competition and Qween Jean asks if anyone else wants to donate. The community pulls $440 out of thin air and the competition starts in earnest. Somebody shouts, “that’s more money then the government gave out!” The cash prize is split between two winners and we continue to Union Square.
Queen Jean stands in front of a Black Live Matter banner and cheering protesters, singing a call and response:
How do you spell Murderer?
NYPD
How do you spell Rapist?
NYPD
abolition now
not tomorrow now
abolition now
not tomorrow now
abolition now
not tomorrow now
If we don’t get it?
Burn it down
If we don’t get it?
Burn! It! Down!
Now the police close in, staring at us from the sidewalk. Someone puts a trans flag in the statue of a dignitary on a horse while Qween Jean speaks. It’s colors seem to glow, reflecting light from the street. Prince Ali sings a song and we immediately call for an encore. Then Joel steps up and tell us the police are saying the flag is vandalism.
“I don’t know who that person is,” Joel says, pointing to the statue, “but he is on a horse, which means he owned slaves.” I learn later the statue is of George Washington, who owned hundreds of enslaved people. His four sets of dentures were not made of wood, as many claim, but the teeth of enslaved people.
Joel continues, “We can honor that person but we can’t honor trans people. To me that flag is not vandalism, it is beauty.”
The rally ends with triumphant photos under that vandalized statue, and Tahtianna reminding us about the Transgender Day of Remembrance Rally and Ceremony she is leading on Friday. We disperse around 9:40 pm.
I walk back to my dorm and take the elevator up to my room, pumped and exhausted. My 16th floor dorm is a mess of clothes and paper bags from NYU’s food courts. But even in its state of disarray, it reminds me of the dining bubbles we derided while marching. Sixteen stories above the city, I shut my blinds and kick off my shoes, falling asleep with the glitter still on my face. When I wake up, I have to wash it out of my eyes. The irritant pulls tears down my cheeks. I search Instagram for the list of names we read last night. The list of dead bodies. The list of stolen lives.
Dustin Parker, McAlester, Oklahoma, Jan. 1
Alexa Neulisa Luciano Ruiz, Toa Baja, Puerto Rico, Feb. 1
Yampi Méndez Arocho, Moca, Puerto Rico, March 5
Monica Diamond, Charlotte, N, March 18
Lexi, New York, NY, March 28
Scottlyn DeVore, Georgia, March
Johanna Metzger, Baltimore, MD, April 11
*Penélope Díaz Ramírez, Bayamon, Puerto Rico, April 13
Layla Pelaez Sánchez, Puerto Rico, April 21
Serena Angelique Velázquez Ramos, Puerto Rico, April 21
Nina Pop, Sikeston, MO, May 3
Helle Jae O’Regan, San Antonio, TX, May 6
**Jayne Thompson, Mesa County, CO, May 9
**Tony McDade, Tallahassee, FL, May 27
Selena Reyes Hernandez, Chicago, IL, May 31
Dominique “Rem’mie” Fells, Philadelphia, PA, June 8
Riah Milton, Liberty Township, OH, June 9
Brian “Egypt” Powers, Akron, OH, July 13
Brayla Stone, Sherwood, AR, June 25
Merci Mack, Dallas, TX, June 30
Shaki Peters, Amite City, LA, July 1
Bree “Nuk” Black, Pompano Beach, FL, July 3
Summer Taylor, Seattle, WA, July 4
Marilyn Cazares, Brawley, CA, July 13
Tiffany Harris, The Bronx, NY, July 16
Draya McCarty, Baton Rouge, LA
Tatiana Hall, Philadelphia, PA
Queasha D. Hardy, Baton Rouge, LA, July 27
Aja Raquell Rhone-Spears, Portland, OR, July 25
Kee Sam, Lafayette LA, August 13
*Lea Rayshon Daye, Cleveland, OH, August 30
Aerrion Burnett, MO, Sept. 19
Mia Green, Philadelphia, PA, Sept. 30
Michelle Vargas, San German, Puerto Rico, Sept. 30
Felycya Harris, Augusta, GA, Oct. 3
Brooklyn Smith, Shreveport, LA, Oct 7
Sara Blackwood, Indianapolis, Oct. 11
Angel Unique, Memphis, TN, Oct. 25
Yuni Carey, Miami, Nov. 17
*Killed In Prison
**Killed By Police
November 26: I am in Connecticut, with my family. Qween Jean and Joel Riveraa are holding a clothing and food drive to support the trans community. At least two more trans people have been murdered:
Asia Jynaé Foster, a 22-year-old Black transgender woman was shot and killed in Houston, Texas on November 20.
Chae’Meshia Simms, a Black transgender woman in her 30s was shot to death early in the morning on Nov. 23 in Richmond, Virginia. Simms was in her 30s.”
In addition, Fendi Mon’ezah Armstrong was shot and killed in Atlanta GA, on November 11. She was not included in earlier lists because the police dead-named her and did not identify her as trans. She was 39 years old.
