Skip to main content

Home Attitude Loves

‘What our transcestors can teach us about mobilising change this Trans+ History Week’

"One of the earliest recorded examples of gender-diversity comes from Ancient Mesopotamia around 5000 BC," writes Jude Guaitamacchi, in this reflection on the impact of Marsha P. Johnson, Christine Burns and more

By Jude Guaitamacchi

head and shoulders shot of Jude Guaitamacchi in a collar and tie (Image: Stephanie Dreams Photography)
Jude Guaitamacchi (Image: Stephanie Dreams Photography)

On 6 July 2019 it was Pride in London. I walked through street parties in Soho holding a placard with an iconic image of Marsha P. Johnson above my head. People were dancing, drinking, glitter everywhere. As I walked through the crowd’s people’s eyes widened with curiosity, or lit up with recognition. I must have retold the story of the Stonewall Riots over and over that day as partygoers stopped me to ask me who the person in the picture was. I spoke about trans women like Marsha and Sylvia Rivera, who were at the forefront of the 1969 uprising at the Stonewall Inn and helped ignite the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement, incredible women that were part of the reason we were all there that day. 

Pride in London marked the 50th anniversary of Stonewall that year. I was a part of a group of grassroots trans activists and allies that led the parade with the #LWithTheT campaign, a direct response to the anti-trans protesters that disrupted the parade the year before. We had launched one of the most visible and impactful trans solidarity campaigns in recent history, created in defiance of those who claimed that trans activism was erasing lesbians. 

We aimed to bring the parade back to its roots that day, by holding powerful placards honouring trans sex workers of colour, guiding confused crowds into chanting, ‘please know your history, black trans women fought for me.’ The media largely glossed over our campaign, focusing instead on glitter and rainbows. I think back to that moment as a metaphor for where we are today. Many in the trans community were acutely aware of the anti-trans movement trying to strip us of our rights. The campaign’s presence was designed to draw support from allies and yet it seemed that most people were just there for the party. It felt like we had forgotten that Pride had always been a protest, and we had slipped into a false sense of security. This same complacency led to the anti-trans movement gaining ground over the years. 

Jude Guaitamacchi (Image: Stephanie Dreams Photography)

Understanding our history is so important because if we don’t learn from it, we risk repeating it. Yet the stories of those who marched before us remain widely untold. Like many, I grew up during the era of Section 28, a law that denied us access to an LGBTQ+ inclusive education. We were not allowed to learn about our own experiences, let alone those of our transcestors. Trans+ History Week gives us the opportunity to finally have the history lesson we never had at school. Trans people are not a modern-day fad. In fact, gender-diverse communities have existed for thousands of years. One of the earliest recorded examples comes from Ancient Mesopotamia around 5000 BC, where gender-diverse priests served in the cult of the goddess Inanna. Beyond that, ancient and Indigenous cultures across the world have long recognised identities beyond the binary.

When it comes to history of trans rights activism, we need a history lesson too. The modern LGBTQIA+ rights movement didn’t start with Stonewall. It started in 1966 with the Compton Cafeteria Riots: one of the first documented acts of collective resistance by trans and gender-diverse people in the USA. The uprising at Comptons, sparked by police brutality against trans sex workers, lit the torch of the movement and led to the founding of community organisations including the NCTU, the first peer run counselling and advocacy group for trans Americans.  These early moments of defiance laid the groundwork for the uprisings that followed, yet they are still left out of most mainstream narratives. 

As we face a new wave of anti-trans attacks, how and what could we learn from the past?  When we think about drawing from our history, it’s not just the protests we can learn from but the work in political organising, strategic lobbying, and unified resistance, often invisible, that helped solidify our rights in law.

We see a lot of social media led activism today, which, while incredibly powerful for raising awareness and galvanising support, is just one part of modern-day movement building. We must also honour and learn from those who laid the groundwork for the rights now under threat. We owe so much to the founders of Press for Change Christine Burns and Stephen Whittle and likes of trans pioneer Roz Kaveney from the Gay Liberation Front, along with countless others who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to secure the legal protections we risk losing now.

In 1992, Press for Change was established as a lobbying and legal support organisation for trans people. Their strategic litigation and advocacy were instrumental in achieving significant legal reforms, including the Gender Recognition Act 2004 and the Equality Act 2010. The latter marked a landmark moment by explicitly protecting trans individuals from discrimination under the characteristic of “gender reassignment.” 

Recent developments risk unpicking these hard-won rights. A UK Supreme Court ruling held that, under the Equality Act 2010, the terms “woman” and “sex” refer exclusively to biological sex. This interpretation has significant implications, effectively excluding trans individuals from single-sex spaces aligned with their gender identity, even if they possess a Gender Recognition Certificate. We may find ourselves having to fight again for rights that leaders like Christine and Roz and Stephen fought for over decades.

Today, hearing politicians U-turning on their previous support for trans rights is deeply alarming. It’s hard to believe that hateful anti-trans slogans that disrupted the parade of Pride in London in 2019 are now being repeated by our Prime Minister in 2025, parroting slogans originating with some of the most prolific anti-trans hate groups in the UK.  

Make no mistake, these groups are well-funded, coordinated, and their influence stretches across the Atlantic, stemming from far-right movements that have taken hold in the US. Colonialism, imperialism, and authoritarianism continue to grip modern society, fuelling systems designed to erase, control, and condemn those who dare to live as their true selves. The attack on trans rights is an attack on human rights and must be recognised as impacting more than just the trans community.

The current climate has sparked outrage, with many now fired up to take action. While our mission is shared, there is a real need for collaborative, coordinated work that draws on our collective passion and strength.  That’s what we set out to do with the Trans Solidarity Alliance: to build a platform for trans people and work in collaboration with allies driving positive change for the trans community in the UK. We’ve worked to better inform politicians through our briefing programme, and built on the success of solidarity campaigns like #LWithTheT, coordinating #TransYouthAreLoved, the UK’s largest celebrity-backed campaign, amplifying love in the face of escalating hate.

Now, it’s a matter of whether we as a community can work together, and become as strategic as the forces against us, building a system that functions as effectively.

Trans+ History Week offers a moment to reflect on how our community has mobilised before and how we must do it again to meet the challenge we face today, together.