Member-only story
I’m a Black Trans Woman. All Parts of My Life Matter.
Society focuses on one thing, but I see all the intersections
I’m a radio producer. I’m a stand-up comic. I’m an aunt, sister, and friend. But lately, it feels as though my identity as a Black transgender woman is all anyone can think about.
I knew coming out as a Black trans woman wouldn’t be easy. Three years ago, the world had to say goodbye to the child my parents raised. I was named after my dad, and Sherm was the shorthand version, which I kept. I chose a new first name, Morgan, because it is beautiful and bold. Selecting a name, however, was one of the easier parts of my journey. And though it is difficult to talk about the lowest moments, I want more people to see me for who I am. I’m a Black trans woman and all parts of my life matter.
I tried to mentally prepare for the pain that comes with this journey. But that’s impossible. After building a career as a radio producer, I was terminated from one of the most respected stations in Washington, D.C. I wanted to push for trans-inclusive feminism, and I wasn’t supported. This type of situation happens to trans women often, a myopic understanding of feminism with no inclusion of trans women. So in 2018, my workplace shifted from the radio station to my home long before the coronavirus pandemic forced us all to quarantine. I’m rebuilding my career because transness requires resilience. It’s an uphill battle, but it can be done.
I’m not as sure that I’ll win the battle with family though. Will they ever accept Morgan? I’ll never forget the day my mother came to visit me in a psych ward. I love my mother, but on this day — the day after an unsuccessful suicide attempt — her words were far from comforting.
“The love and acceptance you want from me you’re not gonna get,” my mother told me. She was crying when she said it. I was numb at first, but her words stung. The woman I admired the most unequivocally denied my existence.
Part of getting to know me…
