Standing in Power: Reflections on the Trans Visibility March & St. Pete Pride Parade

June 28th, 2025 — the Florida sun was relentless, but so were we.

As I stepped onto Bayshore Drive for the Trans Visibility March, my heart was pounding—not just from the heat, but from the sheer weight of what this moment represented. We were gathering in resistance and joy, standing on the shoulders of those who came before us, shouting into the world: We exist. We matter. We will be seen.

Honoring a Legacy of Resistance

When we talk about Pride, we must begin with Stonewall—the 1969 uprising that ignited a global movement. Often remembered as a broader LGBTQ+ rebellion, the frontline was held by trans women of color like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. Their courage in the face of police brutality laid the foundation for the march I walked in today. They weren’t just part of history—they created it.

And still, more than 50 years later, we carry their fight forward.

Gathering in Resistance and Joy

The Trans Visibility March wasn’t just a procession of signs and chants. It was a pulse, a rhythm, a collective heartbeat moving through the streets of St. Pete. We came armed with nothing but each other—our stories, our signs, and our fierce love.

Even as the weight of anti-trans legislation loomed heavy over Florida, we walked with heads high. Our chants echoed through the city, louder than fear:“Trans rights are human rights!”

In that circle of resistance, I felt something unshakable—community. Every hand I held, every chant I shouted, reminded me that solidarity isn’t theoretical. It’s tangible. It’s sweaty, sunburned, determined, and beautifully alive.

Marching for Visibility

Visibility isn’t a luxury for us—it’s a lifeline.

As we moved past shops, condos, and state buildings, we held signs with the names of trans lives lost—not just to interpersonal violence, but to legislative cruelty. Each name a reminder. Each voice a testimony.

Being seen, being heard, being known—this is how we fight erasure. Because when we take up space, we make it harder for others to pretend we don’t exist. We don’t march for applause. We march because our lives depend on it.

Painting the Parade with Our Stories

Later that evening , the streets of Bayshore Drive in St. Pete exploded into color for the Pride Parade. Where the march was a battle cry, the parade was a celebration—a vibrant, unapologetic declaration of queer and trans joy.

Floats decorated in colorful regalia rolled by, blasting anthems of defiance. Drag queens waved like royalty. Trans youth danced without fear, their joy untethered and radiant.

Somewhere between the music, the laughter, and the waves of rainbow flags, I cried. Not from sadness—but from relief. This is the world we’re fighting for. One where we don’t just survive—we shine.

Why Trans Visibility Matters Now

In a state like Florida—where anti-trans bills are passed with alarming speed—visibility has become a radical act of survival. Every time we show up, we:

• Put real faces and voices behind the headlines

• Counter misinformation and fear with truth and courage

• Build bridges across race, age, and gender experience

• Inspire the next generation to live proudly, unapologetically

Being visible forces a shift in narrative. And every single person who marched, who cheered, who waved from the sidelines—they’re part of that shift.

How You Can Show Up

Pride doesn’t end in June. Visibility is an ongoing practice—and allyship is a verb. Here’s how you can keep showing up for the trans community:

• Volunteer with local trans-led organizations

• Donate to trans mutual aid funds, bail funds, or legal defense coalitions

• Amplify trans voices—share art, stories, and educational resources

• Advocate at city council meetings for trans-affirming policies

• Support trans youth and families in your schools and communities

These aren’t just tasks—they’re seeds. Every action you take helps grow a more just, loving world.

Whether we’re marching under the sun or dancing in the streets, we’re telling the same truth: We are here. We are powerful. And we are not going anywhere.