I think a lot about the children who are being born today, about how the world might look through their eyes. How they might journey through their own queerness in the current context. My experience of trans visibility was a harsh one––far less harsh than most––but still a shocking reality. As an individual who has worked in fashion for the past decade, I saw the shift in my peers, from being perceived as a white queer male to, now, a trans woman.
I lost a lot of those connections I so tirelessly built. Suddenly those regular clients who once loved my company and skills as a hair stylist disappeared. I would check my emails every hour, waiting for any potential work prospects, to no avail. However, there was a few who stood by me, who knew my worth was outside of my gender.
From the age of twelve, I was raised by a single mother, a former female bodybuilder and fitness instructor who left her career behind to raise her two children with no support. I was fortunate that my freedom and escapism came in the form of my uncle, Lee McQueen, who would assist my mother––his sister––wherever he could. Nestled under his wing, he taught me everything he knew.
I saw how the industry had treated him. The once shy, overweight boy from East London who was labelled a misogynist for his graduate collection which spoke about the politics of women and the autonomy over their own body. Some failed so hard to see his message. 30 years on, he and this collection are now revered as genius––which he always was. It was his optimism for what lay ahead, alongside designing for the future not from nostalgia, that built my strength and tenacity to create a more positive and bright future for myself and all my trans siblings within this world.
“I think about those whose lives were taken too soon because they chose to be visible, and paved the way for us”
angel mcqueen
Today then is a day for me, my trans brothers, sisters, and siblings, to show the world we are people who exist within it. That means highlighting us all. We as humans are unique and beautiful, but our lives and legacies are being cut prematurely, because of the shortcomings of those who were elected to protect us––not just some of us, all of us––but are too cowardly to admit it. We share this planet we call home, it doesn’t belong to a few who paid the entry tickets into the establishment.
Today I think about those whose lives were taken too soon because they chose to be visible, and paved the way for us to breathe, love, experience joy, and be who we are without fear. It’s about the conjunction of the spirit meeting the vessel: Aligning our soul with the casing we were given. We are more than our anatomy, more than the sexualisation of our genitals, more than what society deems a man or woman to look like.
Today is about recognising our own privileges and how to uplift those who are not afforded the same too. In the first three months of 2025, we have seen the removal of basic human rights for trans people across the United States, “the land of the free,” under Donald Trump’s administration. It’s not the only western country to remove access to gender affirming healthcare for minors (over 20 states have implemented a ban or are “severely limiting” it already) or deny correct gender markers, or attempt––as is the case in Texas––to make being transgender illegal. The far right rises across Europe and Britain too; how others’ lives will be impacted by similar policies is still to be seen, but the threat of it looms large. Happenings like this prove we are not a trend. We are people whose lives are at risk.
In a time when we are witnessing the global persecution and murder of trans people, predominantly trans women, it’s becoming more and more vital to recognize this harsh reality. Of the over 350 reported deaths in the last year, 94% were femicides––attacks on trans women and femmes. In turn, 97% of those victims were Black or people of colour.
We have always been and will continue to be inhabitants of this world, despite any attempts to silence or eliminate us. But our journeys are unique and special. To stand strong today and be seen, be heard, and be acknowledged is one of the most courageous things a human can do. Our voices matter. Our representation matters. Our visibility matters. We will not be erased.
Today you see us. Will that still be the case tomorrow?
Angel McQueen is an artist based in London