In June 1969, police clashed with Black transgender women and other LGBTQ+ groups during the Stonewall uprising, galvanizing generations of activists and inspiring what we now know as Pride Month. Over 50 years later, LGBTQ+ activists are still fighting for their rights amid protests against police brutality and systemic racism.
Although the pandemic has prevented Portland’s annual rainbow-covered celebrations, Pride Month was still celebrated in the streets. The recent U.S. Supreme Court decision to protect LGBTQ+ people against workplace discrimination came as a win for queer groups. Although the ongoing assaults of Black trans women and other queer individuals has hung heavy over the movement, and chants like “Black trans lives matter” have become commonplace amid protests decrying police killings of Black people following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police.
Black LGBTQ+ and HIV-affected victims of violence were almost twice as likely to experience police violence as other survivors, according to a 2014 report by the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs. And in the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey, 61% of Black trans respondents who interacted with the police reported that they were harrassed, assaulted or otherwise mistreated by officers.
Black trans women face the highest levels of fatal violence within the LGBTQ+ community, and they are unlikely to turn to law enforcement for help, according to the Human Rights Campaign.
Masyn Wade, a transgender woman living in Portland, emphasized the importance of LGBTQ+ pride in today’s Black civil rights movement. Wade, who works with Snack Bloc, co-hosted the organization’s Bloc Party under the Hawthorne Bridge on June 20.
“We can’t have liberation with love without having liberation for all,” she told Street Roots. “Black lives transcend into Pride. And you can’t talk about Black lives without talking about Indigenous lives, without talking about brown lives. We are all connected in a way.”
She said the fight for Black lives also must include Black trans lives. She reminds people that there would not be LGBTQ+ Pride without Black trans women, like Marsha P. Johnson — a trans activist who was on the front lines of the LGBTQ+ liberation movement and the Stonewall uprising.
STONEWALL: Pride endures a half-century after the 1969 uprising
Wade said the current movement is becoming increasingly intersectional, especially with the new generation. She co-hosted the Snack Bloc event with Poison Waters, who has worked as a drag performer for over 30 years. The two hoped to unite the younger and older generations of Black LGBTQ+ people.
“The young folks are forcing the older people to have these uncomfortable conversations. They’re challenging the folks that are set in their ways,” Waters said.
Demarcus Spencer is part of the younger generation of Black LGBTQ+ activists in Portland. He is learning to use his voice as a Black gay male in the movement to stand up for others like him.
Spencer helped initiate Big Yard Foundation’s Juneteenth celebration and emphasized this theme of inclusivity in the Black Lives Matter movement.
“What I want us to start doing, as a minority, is to not put more minorities within our own minority when it comes to Black gay lives, Black women, Black trans, Black bisexual people, Black queer,” Spencer said at the event. “We’ve got to stick together. We can’t divide.”
Spencer initially avoided the ongoing protests due to the risk of COVID-19, but that changed when he was emotionally moved when he saw protesters laying with their hands behind their backs on Burnside Bridge on June 2. Once he began attending protests, he noticed there had not been many Black gay men speaking, so he started using his voice.
Spencer thinks that Oregon has a long way to go to equitably include Black LGBTQ+ voices in this movement.
“I think that’s going to be my job now to put my voice out there and make sure that I’m heard so I can inspire other Black, other minorities, LGBTQ (people) to come out and celebrate themselves and love themselves and make sure that they’re happy and safe,” he said.
Like Spencer, Jasmine Brown believes the fights for queer and racial equity need to be better connected. Brown has been active in promoting racial equity since the creation of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013 and now serves as the operations coordinator for the Q Center, utilizing their position in the community as non-binary and pansexual.
Instead of highlighting generational divides, Brown focuses on the racial divide in LGBTQ+ spaces.
“I think the intersectional aspect still has some growth that needs to happen (within the white-washed lgbtqia communities) to focus on the racial equity,” Brown said in an email.
Brown said the recent addition of black and brown stripes to the Pride flag along with the recent Supreme Court decision to protect LGBTQ+ people against workplace discrimination are steps in the right direction, though not enough. Brown tells white allies, “The job is not done.”
“This is not a woke contest, and this is not a photo-op,” they said. “This is a movement, a monumental moment in history. This is fighting for the livelihood of the Black community. Black folks have been fighting white supremacy since they arrived in America in 1619. That is 400 years of oppression.”
Although Brown said there is much work to be done to advocate for equity for Black and queer communities, they think it has been important to acknowledge accomplishments for the LGBTQ+ community this Pride Month.
“Hate crimes are criminalized, and there are active resources (like Q Center) for marginalized groups,” they said. “There has been a change in the status quo regarding gay rights and being ‘out.’ There are cities that cater to the gay community that love and support us. Even if the outside world still questions our morality and our validity, there are systems in place to support us.”
Elijiah Roach is an organizer with Rose City Justice, a recently formed civil rights collective, and said the organization is working to partner with LBGTQ+-focused organizations that support the Black community. As a gender-fluid member of this community, they believe there is more work to be done to focus on marginalized groups within the Black community.
“I know that we, at least from my perspective, have not touched on the issues of LGBTQ+ and trans lives as much as I would hope,” Roach said.
Even though Roach hopes for more focus on LGBTQ+ issues, they say that helping create Rose City Justice has given them a voice. Before now, they did not have a sense of community or feel their voice was valid.
“This movement feels very empowering, both to my queer side as well as my Black side,” Roach said. “This movement is providing me — and I hope the rest of the Black community — a position to actually voice their being, their identity … to say, ‘I am here, I’m involved in this community, this is who I am, and I want better support.’”
