Amplifying trans histories is essential and liberating

Photo courtesy of Quinn Dombrowski via Flickr
Gemma discusses the need to recognize transgender activists, like Miss Major Griffin-Gacy, above.

By Silas Gemma ’26

Opinion Editor 

Efforts to amplify trans histories are essential for the self-affirmation and empowerment of trans people. They are also vital for opposing the conservative rhetoric that being trans is a novel trend that owes its existence to contemporary media.

Over the past few weeks, the organization Point of Pride has posted various short profiles of transgender trailblazers throughout history on its Instagram page. The group describes itself as “empower[ing] trans folks to live more authentically” and provides financial aid to people seeking gender-affirming healthcare. 

To further the work begun by Point of Pride, I am amplifying and expanding on the mini-biographies that the group offers by adding additional research and commentary about . 

The work of Point of Pride establishes a positive example for future projects aiming to propagate trans history that is often inaccessible or censored, leading to a lack of representation in history textbooks and modern media. 

In this piece, you will learn about trans people who were present at the Stonewall Riots, worked as spies, and fought in the civil war.  

 

Chevalier d’Eon

One of the pioneers profiled by Point of Pride is Chevalier d’Eon, a trans woman who worked under King Louis XV in the mid-18th century, according to an Instagram post by the group. In fact, according to an Art UK article by Lydia Figes, she was a legal scholar who worked as a French spy in Russia. 

Later, she fought in the Seven Years’ War and contributed to the subsequent Treaty of Paris. Contention over whistleblowing in Britain led to her ostracization within French political circles, with her return to France contingent on her “readoption” of women’s clothing, likely an attempt to rationalize her political banishment.

Point of Pride reports that after nearly 50 years presenting as a man, d’Eon transitioned discreetly and visited the court of the Empress Elizabeth of Russia as a woman. Figes adds that the Russian Empress herself was considered masculine in many aspects, especially when atop her horse in “hunting attire.” 

This is a further representation of gender flexibility in the 18th century, even among authoritative and privileged figures. Figes comments that gender politics of the 18th century is an area of research that would be interesting to explore further.

Additionally, a posthumously discovered autobiography revealed that d’Eon considered herself to have been born female but cited her father’s desire for a son as the primary reason for being “raised male.” This echoes contemporary familial tensions that complicate the ease at which a trans child is able to transition and express themselves in accordance with their internal gender. Thus, modern conflicts can be identified within historical biographies — a process that affirms our current experiences. 

Albert Cashier

Offering more representation of trans figures from past eras of history, Point of Pride describes the life of Albert Cashier, a trans man who served with an Illinois infantry in the American Civil War. 

According to the National Park Service, he was able to keep his trans identity private for most of his life, likely aided by the fact that many Irishmen like himself were small in size during that time. He was known for exiting military service largely unscathed, a feat representative of his wit and resilience. 

Despite claims that Cashier’s stepfather selected masculine clothes for him, it is evident that his internal perception of his male identity persisted throughout his lifetime, countering possible speculations that his masculine presentation stemmed from parental pressure. 

According to the National Park Service, Cashier’s trans identity was ultimately discovered after Illinois State Sen. Ira Lish, for whom Cashier worked for, ran over Cashier and fractured his leg. Despite this, his identity was not discovered on a broader scale until he entered a psychiatric hospital, where he later died in 1915. 

As Point of Pride importantly notes, his tombstone is marked Albert Cashier rather than his assigned name, which is not common among closeted trans veterans — or trans people more generally.

Examining Cashier’s personal history uncovers trans representation within the realm of the military, which is traditionally thought of as a cis-masculine structure that has historically excluded marginalized groups. His service, as well as the service of other trans military members throughout history, has created an avenue for current trans military members. 

Additionally, as reported by the Chicago Tribune, Cashier’s continuing impact is exemplified in Jay Paul Deratany’s play, “CiviliTy of Albert Cashier,” which centers Cashier’s story and legacy. This illustrates the power and potential of modern media to highlight stories of historically marginalized figures, leading to wider awareness and increased interest. A

According to a Playbill article, there have been performances of this musical composed of an all-trans cast, which is fitting for a story about historical trans exclusion in public and professional arenas. 

Miss Major Griffin-Gacy

For another one of their vignettes, Point of Pride turns to a more contemporary figure, Miss Major Griffin-Gacy. According to an article by Women & the American Story, Miss Major, as she is more commonly known, is a genderqueer activist known for her involvement in events such as the Stonewall Riots. 

Born in the 1940s, Miss Major experienced subjugation and criticism for her feminine identity. For example, she was expelled from two colleges after being outed for having feminine clothes in her dorm. In her 30s, Miss Major’s experience with incarceration and an unjust parole process encouraged her to learn more about the inequalities within the United States’ legal structures. 

Nonetheless, she was able to find solace in the drag community. In the modern day, the community fulfills a place in society by providing support for queer individuals amidst anti-queer sentiment. It has persisted despite the historical and contemporary attacks that drag faces.

Another topic that often comes up in conversations about Miss Major is her role in the Stonewall Riots, although her activism work extends beyond that. Journalist Toshio Meronek of “them,” a website centering queer topics, states that Miss Major rebelled against the police alongside pivotal figures such as Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera during a raid at the Stonewall Inn in the 1970s. 

As an article by Women & the American Story points out, despite Stonewall often being considered the uprising that kickstarted the LGBTQ+ rights movement in the United States, there were persistent and impactful efforts by trans women of color long before that to cement queer rights. Additionally, Meronek includes a transcript of an interview conducted with Miss Major in which she explains that “it’s as if Stonewall never happened because it didn’t change anything for us.” She adds that she wants her “memory to live on in the hearts of the grassroots,” referring to her other pivotal activist undertakings throughout the decades.

Importantly, according to Women & the American Story, Miss Major was a central figure in the fight for AIDS awareness in the 1980s and 90s. She was passionate about spreading accurate information to protect the queer community and educate the general public during an era replete with anti-queer — and specifically homophobic — rhetoric. In fact, her second partner became a victim of AIDS, likely fueling her feverish efforts to combat the epidemic. 

The legacy of these efforts is a greater awareness of the pathology and etiology of the disease itself, as well as less homophobic stigma surrounding AIDS and effective treatment options that allow for disease management. It should be noted, however, that treatment in the form of medication is not accessible for all people with HIV. This is still an inequity that needs to be addressed.

Miss Major’s success is one prominent example of the impact of trans people of color in realms such as LGBTQ+ rights and liberation. Her contributions, alongside those of many other under-recognized figures, must not be understated. It is essential to research the work of figures such as Miss Major, who are often not mentioned in mainstream media but have left an indelible impact on the livelihoods of marginalized communities. 

Contemporary activism

Past advocates for AIDS awareness and research can be directly connected to the greater openness with which modern people with AIDS share their experiences. A primary example is Jonathan Van Ness, a public figure in queer circles who is known for their effervescent personality. 

According to The Guardian, although Van Ness is a symbol of positivity in the public view from their presence on Netflix’s hit show Queer Eye, they have also opened up about their experience with HIV. They openly share the grief, fear and liberation that has come with the HIV diagnosis in their memoir, “Over the Top.” 

The freedom that public figures have to share their experiences with a stigmatized virus is a direct result of the educational efforts of frontline AIDS activists such as Miss Major. 

Accessible trans history is essential, especially for trans youth trying to navigate their identities and aspirations in a world that still centers the cisgender and heterosexual experience. Point of Pride is only one organization that has made an effort to compile profiles of influential trans figures, although many other individuals and organizations have pursued similar missions. 

The fact that a cursory search on the internet can yield bountiful information about historical and contemporary trans figures is promising and indicates that greater access to diverse perspectives and experiences is becoming the norm.

Nevertheless, discriminatory exclusion still affects what stories and voices are given a platform. Queer people of color, for example, are often left out of history books and websites. It is also essential to recognize the inability of online media to offer a comprehensive account of trans history. 

There are many trailblazers who may not have caught national media attention but were still highly influential in their less publicized areas of activism. Despite these obstacles, we must recognize the power of social media to amplify muted voices and histories, and we must use these stories to spark change in areas such as public awareness, school curricula and legal policy. 

Trans histories are powerful, beautiful and liberating.