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🔒 Up next for paid subscribers: In the final installment of Life of a Trans Man Lesbian, I come full circle into the person I was always becoming, and the path it took to get there.
It was an overcast day in Corona Plaza, Queens, on July 19, 2025, when hundreds of queer, trans, Caribbean, and Hispanic immigrants and their supporters gathered in solidarity. People showed up in numbers for one another during a political time when anti-trans legislation and ICE raids are targeting some of the most vulnerable communities across New York and the rest of the country.
Since the Trump administration launched its mass deportation initiative, Operation Safeguard, nearly 142,000 people have been deported as of April. The executive order that kicked it off, titled Protecting the American People Against Invasion, was signed on January 20, 2025. It led to a surge in ICE arrests without due process, expanded fast-track deportations, and constant raids across cities and working-class neighborhoods.
But in Corona Plaza, the ambience carried a rhythm of resistance, love, and community care.

The plaza was filled with resource tables, community members, and powerful speakers. People wore shirts that affirmed their support for undocumented neighbors. I’ve only been photographing for two months, starting during Pride Month, but I felt called to capture what I saw. This wasn’t just a protest. It was an act of resistance, a collective refusal to be erased, and a reminder that keeping each other safe is a shared responsibility.
Here I captured the words of trans activist, Yanery Cruz, who represented the New York Transgender Advocacy Group:
I hope these photos reflect that we all deserve to be here. That we are here. That we will continue to be here. Undocumented people are the backbone of this country, shaping it every day by showing up for justice and equity.
I love your pics, if I were 50 years younger I would have loved being there in person. It makes my heart sing to see celebrations like this. I am not trans but I am bi and have had to face marginalization for my entire adult life. The courage of the community is what keeps me going in my old age.