Still We Bloom
I’m both excited and heavy-hearted to share the paperback cover of my memoir, The Risk It Takes to Bloom. It’s also available for pre-order. June 9th is the date.
To be honest, it feels dissonant to wish anyone a happy Trans Day of Visibility. I hope it’s become clear that visibility will not save any of us on the margins. Being seen, even elevated can feel powerful, but having your humanity understood and respected is something else altogether.
Just as when I released the hardcover in November 2023, we are in uncertain and grisly times. Then, it felt off to be promoting a book about my life while a genocide was emerging against Palestinian people. I speak in more detail about that dynamic in the new foreword. And I’m honored that @mosababutoha allowed me to include one of his poems.
While the U.S. continues to devastate people around the world, I’m holding the campaign of erasure that countries are waging on trans and nonbinary people. From India to the U.K. to the U.S. From stripping healthcare to demonizing athletes and young people to stripping folks of their identification documents, it can feel impossible to see past all the fires everywhere.
I hope Bloom has, and will continue to, help people hold the nuances of life. The hard things and the things that give us hope. The unique and the universal. The harm and the healing. Visibility and vitality. And I hope it leaves more space for the next Black trans person who finds themselves in this world to be their truest, most deserving self. Because liberation isn’t a far-off destination we’ll reach, or something handed to us for a job well done. It’s something we must demand and snatch for ourselves, every day of our lives.
Reflecting on the significance of Trans Day of Visibility, it becomes clear that true progress goes beyond simply being seen. While visibility can empower marginalized communities, the deeper goal is cultivating a society that genuinely understands and respects the humanity of trans and nonbinary people. This resonates especially in times marked by intensifying challenges such as healthcare denial, identity erasure, and political hostility across various countries including the U.S., U.K., and India. From my personal experience and observations, the intersection of visibility and respect often defines the daily reality of Black trans individuals. It is not enough to be 'visible' in headlines or public discussions if systemic barriers and social stigmas persist. Acknowledging this complexity helps us appreciate memoirs like 'The Risk It Takes to Bloom,' which offer nuanced perspectives that balance the pain and hope living on the margins entails. I have seen how storytelling creates space for healing and empowerment, even if the external world seems fraught with conflict and injustice. Memoirs serve not only as windows for others to understand lived experiences but also as a catalyst for self-affirmation within marginalized communities. For many, including myself, these narratives encourage us to embrace our full identities and demand liberation as an ongoing practice, not a distant dream. In celebrating resilience amidst adversity, it is essential to recognize that liberation means claiming dignity daily—whether through access to healthcare, fighting discriminatory policies, or creating supportive spaces. The work of resilience requires collective action and solidarity, especially as anti-trans campaigns threaten basic rights globally. Ultimately, 'The Risk It Takes to Bloom' inspires readers by highlighting the courage it takes to live authentically despite overwhelming odds. It reminds us that flourishing is deeply tied to visibility laced with understanding, respectful humanity, and unwavering resolve to claim our rightful place in the world.
