Bailey Reeves Embraced the Best Version of Herself
Her family saw her as a phenomenal sister and daughter
This story is part of Know Their Names, a collection of articles illuminating and celebrating the lives of Black Trans women.
“Look Taylor, you’re going to have to learn how to do this. I’m not going to keep doing this. You need to learn,” Bailey Reeves scolded her older sister, Taylor, as she helped with Taylor’s makeup, hair, and clothing for a night out.
“Bailey would always get annoyed but still did [my makeup] for me every single time,” Taylor Reeves remembers. She says Bailey was always willing to help anyone who needed it. Bailey loved seeing others feel confident and become the best versions of themselves they could possibly be.
“Yaaaas!!! That’s my bitch,” Bailey would exclaim as she stepped back to admire her own work.
Bailey courageously embraced the best version of herself at only 13 years old, when she told her family she was Transgender and that she identifies as female. “I’m not going to lie, it was hard to accept at first,” Taylor admits. “It was like I was losing my chunky little baby brother. But I realized that no matter what, I needed to be there for the girl she truly was.”
Unlike the families of many Trans youth, the Reeves took the time to get to know the phenomenal sister and daughter they never knew they had.
Bailey Reeves was born on July 8, 2002, to Thomas B. Reeves and Kit S. Beane. Aside from Taylor, Bailey’s other siblings are Thomas, 20, and Savannah, 15. Bailey was the second-youngest sibling. Her family and friends describe her as brilliant, creative, a champion debater, and a fashion diva. She was a vibrant, one-of-a-kind soul with so much passion for life, and to top things off, she was quite the comedian.
“I’m just really glad I got to spoil her. That makes me feel good. I did my job as a big sister.”
“Bailey was just naturally funny and didn’t even know it,” Taylor says. “We had so many inside jokes, and we would be around other people, look at each other, and bust out laughing because we were both thinking the same thing.”
According to Reeves, there was never a dull moment — especially when her sister would roast their mother and grandmother.
Like any other younger sibling, Bailey was everything one could imagine. “She would get on my nerves sometimes,” Taylor admits via text, adding a “lol” at the end of the message. Bailey would make special trips to Taylor’s room for the sole purpose of annoying her. She’d run in unannounced and, in Taylor’s words, “jump her heavy bones” all over her. It was difficult to stay mad at Bailey because of her ability to charm her way out of anything. Five minutes later, Taylor would find herself doing whatever Bailey wanted her to do, as if she were, in fact, the younger sister. Sometimes Bailey’s ask included Taylor making spicy crab lasagna, which she loved so much. “I’m just really glad I got to spoil her. That makes me feel good. I did my job as a big sister,” Taylor says.
The Reeves family’s entire world was turned upside down on the night of September 2. While leaving a cookout she’d attended with friends, Bailey was shot multiple times and died of her injuries at a local hospital. Further details remain unknown.
She was only 17 years old and would have been starting her senior year of high school. She had ambitions of attending college to become either a doctor or a lawyer.
Bailey’s brother, Thomas, was at the same party earlier in the evening but decided to head out early. He was gone for about an hour before the shooting took place and was out having dinner when he received the call to rush immediately to the hospital. “She was a person who lived her life to the fullest,” Thomas said in an interview with the Baltimore Sun. He expressed gratitude for the love and support he and his family received from the nearly 50 people who showed up to Bailey’s vigil.
Thomas, a student at Morgan State, has aspirations of forming a nonprofit organization committed to ending gun violence, with an emphasis on the disproportionate impact it has on the LGBTQ community, in memory of his sister.
Bailey’s best friend, Lorenzo Carter, was also devastated by her death. At Bailey’s funeral, Lorenzo expressed how much he saw Bailey not only as his best friend but also as a sister and an amazing mentor. He shared memories of their adventurous car rides, long nights together, and falling asleep next to one another. Bailey will also be deeply missed by classmates, who held their own vigil for her.
“She lived her life for her and didn’t care what others thought. Just one encounter with Bailey and you’d remember her for life.”
Bailey also leaves behind a local community that she was a part of for years. She often frequented the D.C. Pride parades and festivities and was active in the local LGBTQ community, according to Jordan Herndon, one of her lifelong friends and a high school senior. Jordan and Bailey were friends since kindergarten, and she actively supported Bailey throughout her transition.
“Bailey made an impact on me, and I saw things differently,” Jordan shared in a recent interview with the Rockville High Newspaper. “She was the funniest and sweetest person that you could be around. To me, it wasn’t fair for her to die so young. She was a child with so much to live for.”
At the Reeves residence, an eerie silence echoes throughout the home. Taylor had grown used to Bailey running up and down the stairs, blasting Beyoncé and Megan Thee Stallion as she recited the lyrics or busting into the bathroom and demanding she hurry up. She misses Bailey calling her “Ms. Girl” and even being cursed out when the two would have disagreements.
Taylor and her family will remember Bailey for the powerful force she was.
“Bailey was very strong,” Taylor says. “She lived her life for her and didn’t care what others thought. Just one encounter with Bailey and you’d remember her for life. She always left you thinking, whether it was about how absolutely beautiful, ridiculously funny, or just how downright inappropriate she was. She definitely left her mark.”
