For transgender people, visibility is a double-edged sword.
In “Trap Door,” a 2022 anthology edited by transgender director and actor Tourmaline, professor Eric A. Stanley, and art writer Johanna Burton, representation is described as complex for the transgender community.
Hypervisibility is a door that those who have privilege gain access to, as Emily Sasmor pointed out in her 2018 essay.
When Laverne Cox graced TIME’s cover in 2014, it was believed that society had reached what was considered the “trans tipping point.” Many from the LGBTQ community—transgender, intersex, and gender-nonbinary people, in particular—were quick to critique the notion that trans equality and justice had been achieved merely through visibility.
In a 2015 Creative Time Reports op-ed, nonbinary artist Alok Vaid-Menon argued that transgender people who conform to a binary male or female identity are falsely perceived by the public as representatives of all transgender people, and that the trans tipping point was “yet another form of exclusion because it acknowledges only those transgender people who lay claim to” real “womanhood or manhood.”
“And I wonder if their acceptance by society is less a sign of progress than a matter of acceptability,” Vaid-Menon continued. The irony of the “transgender tipping point” was that anti-trans violence—particularly against trans women of color—was simultaneously on the rise despite Cox’s fame.
We are aware that the political and social targeting of trans people contributes to the increase in violence against the community as a whole, despite the fact that the trans homicide rate dropped by 22% from last year and still disproportionately affects Black trans femme people.
And with the nation’s ongoing surge in anti-trans legislation, with over 500 bills introduced already in 2024, how will the heightened hostility and aggression toward trans women impact them, and what will navigating between hypervisibility and hostility look like? Here is a compilation of thoughts from trans women who shared with Reckon their perspectives on visibility, representation, and their hopes for trans people everywhere in honor of Transgender Day of Visibility today.
Four trans women explain to Reckon what visibility and representation actually mean to them for Transgender Day of Visibility. ( SAMUEL ENGELKING/Kai Cheng Thom )During quieter times, author, somatic coach, and storyteller Kai Cheng Thom finds solace in reading, watching cartoons, indulging in her favorite foods, and sharing affection with her partner. For Thom, a Chinese Canadian trans woman, life unfolds as a grand adventure filled with profound mysteries, daunting challenges, and yet, exhilarating rewards.
Reflecting on her journey, Thom shares with Reckon her experiences of grappling with societal expectations of beauty and how this pressure often intersects with notions of worthiness. She acknowledges the pervasive social pressures transgender women face to conform not only to cisgender norms but also to traditional standards of beauty, highlighting the harsh consequences of falling short of these ideals.
Thom emphasizes that transgender women who do not meet conventional beauty standards are particularly vulnerable to violence, exacerbating the challenges of seeking fulfillment in a society that often marginalizes them.
“People’s reactions to me can be overwhelming, sometimes bordering on surreal or terrifying,” she reflects. “It’s draining. Overall, I’m not sure the trans community truly benefits from increased visibility. Just look at what’s happening now: each day brings more backlash against our existence. I’d rather we be liberated than merely visible.”
Having navigated the highs and lows of life, Thom now finds herself better equipped to navigate the emotional roller coasters of her youth. With age comes a sense of resilience, allowing her to ride the waves of life with greater ease—where the peaks are less sharp, and the troughs less daunting.
“Life is a precious gift. I never take it for granted,” Thom concludes.
Four trans women explain to Reckon what visibility and representation actually mean to them for Transgender Day of Visibility. (Denny/Aliyah Ali)Aliyah Ali is a transgender Muslim woman who represents the LGBTQ community. Ali believes it is amazing to see the trans community intervene after a trans person passes away. She also wants justice for the “everyday trans girl,” who is also alive.
“We don’t have to be models or in these ridiculously high positions,” she said. “It’s okay for us to just be a normal girl. Our society needs to celebrate each other more and show more support for each other while we’re still alive.”
Being a typical girl means constantly reminding herself that she is a human. She claims to Reckon that there are times when she finds herself so beautiful that she wants to take the world outside to see. There are also dysphoric days where even the idea of leaving the house and letting people know about her can be paralyzing.
Not to mention that her online presence had already become well-known: her support for trans people has sparked a new wave of anti-trans pockets on social media. Despite amassing over 40,000 followers on X, Ali deleted her account. Staying present offline is essential for her day-to-day as an activist with an online platform.
“You can’t forget the beautiful journey you went on to become the person you are, despite all the negative things we’re seeing about ourselves and our community.”
Four trans women explain to Reckon what visibility and representation actually mean to them for Transgender Day of Visibility. (Denny Agassi/Dai Nguyen)For Vietnamese trans woman, dancer, and TikTok content creator with over 21,000 followers, Dai Nguyen documents a wide variety of her life online. From her surgeries to her commentary on why men’s fetishization of Asian women is dangerous, Nguyen’s TikTok does not hold back—purposefully.
She said, “It really has a huge impact when you see others who have had similar experiences as you and express themselves on a big platform.” “It gives other people like me room to say”, I also can do that,” and the circle keeps getting bigger”.
Nguyen’s content has drawn trans women from all over the world to celebrate her journey exactly where she is in her personal life, between the big moments of her life. She is thereby reinforcing the greater body of trans representation and visibility.
Additionally, she moves her body to feel grounded. She dances, whether it be through her own choreography or taking a class, when the overwhelming pressure of being a trans woman feels too much. Additionally, she tells Reckon that she goes to the gym as a means of showing thanks to her body’s abilities.
“It’s very important to find ways to decompress as a trans woman,” she explained. I don’t blame anyone who would prefer to hide than to simply exist, as the heavily transphobic legislation to gender-affirming care is being taken away or consistently being villainized in the media allows us to be at peace and serenity without constantly thinking about our identity.
Four trans women explain to Reckon what visibility and representation actually mean to them for Transgender Day of Visibility. (D. Dagondon Tiegs)D. Dagondon Tiegs (they/them) is a community change-maker and caretaker who helps steward the Black Liberation Collective.
Tiegs turns to nature on days when they don’t feel like connecting with the representation that trans people have.
“There are so many different ways of being in different species: people have created meanings for gender and sexuality, but nature consistently reveals the truth.”
Tiegs said, “Perhaps I’m not represented in the culture around me, but I’m undeniably represented in the other forms of life,” explaining that when disconnected, they can learn from nature to reconnect with our divine trans power. They said, “I also like intentionally making space for joy and ritual, stillness, and finding wholeness in my body.”
Tiegs claimed that families supporting LGBTQ have been important to them, but that it is insufficient or the solution to our current situation.
“When we talk about trans visibility, we reduce the responsibility to simply acknowledging and we shift the responsibility to trans people. However, we need more than just acknowledgement, and we can’t hold trans people accountable for their transphobia. We require prevention and individuals who are dedicated to celebrating trans life. We need to bear the burden of this on everyone, especially cis people.”
