What it means to keep showing up while under attack

As I reflect on Pride Month 2025, I’m thinking about how so many in our Mount Holyoke College community are experiencing dissonant, concurrent realities: trans and queer pride abounds at MHC, yet some people seek to exclude and attack queer people — and in particular trans women — like me. Amidst this complexity, we show up with pride and in protest, a duality forged in the image of foremothers like Marsha P. Johnson and Rose Wong, trans women of color whose advocacy across generations made my presence at MHC today possible. As Pride Month comes to a close (and our lives and leadership continue year-round), I am reflecting on what it means to keep showing up while under attack, and on how our community is so much stronger than the bigotry we face.

I showed up in meaningful ways throughout June, going national in my advocacy for intersectional trans liberation. One major highlight was the opportunity to deliver remarks from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial at World Pride’s International March on Washington for Freedom in early June. As I shared my story from such hallowed ground, I was surrounded by chosen family I forged at Mount Holyoke, and I thought deeply about my journey from MHC’s inspiring campus to Washington’s biggest stage. Incidents of hate and exclusion at MHC have only made me stronger; there is nowhere I’d rather call home.

Another important moment for me during this Pride was my advocacy in response to the Supreme Court’s flawed, bias-driven decision in the U.S. v. Skrmetti case that involved attacks on trans people’s healthcare rights. I had been prepared for this moment at MHC when I moderated a panel of experts and thought leaders to help our community prepare for a future in which bodily autonomy will win the day, no matter what six Justices may say. When the decision came down in the middle of June, I was ready to speak out with confidence in response.

Just steps from the Supreme Court building, I said, “Amidst the darkness of hard truths, I bring forth the light of powerful truths like this one: I am a young trans woman, and I am not afraid. Because I know that the fear [our opponents] cultivate is really — deep down — fear of our power. We are powerful in our joy. We are powerful in our history-making across generations, and at intersections, from Tourmaline’s art, to Marsha P. Johnson’s activism. And ultimately, we are powerful in our hope.”

Whether it was in these most public moments, or behind-the-scenes meetings with fellow movement leaders from the ACLU, Lambda Legal and others throughout June, I leaned into my values of pride and protest this month. I was fueled by drives to prove our cruelest detractors wrong and to make our supportive community proud. Trans leaders like me will never stop showing up in the face of hate. Our collective liberation in love and justice is inevitable.