World Pride Wasn’t Built for Us
A personal reflection on erasure and showing up anyway
After a long Pride weekend, I’m now back at my desk in the New York City area, reflecting on WorldPride. There were definitely some beautiful moments of community and fantastic photo ops, including the honor of speaking at the Human Rights Campaign headquarters for the National Trans Visibility March.
But if I’m being honest—WorldPride left a lot to be desired.
If you’re cisgender and either gay, lesbian, or bisexual, you probably heard glowing reviews. Even some trans folks, who are often read as cisgender, shared how much fun they had. But as a Latine transgender person walking solo throughout the weekend, especially since many of my friends stayed in New York because of the event’s proximity to the White House, the experience felt very different.
The event lineup was a sharp reminder that trans people, especially Black and Indigenous trans folks, are still often treated as an afterthought. This isn’t just about WorldPride. It reflects a broader trend we’ve been seeing. Since the Trump administration’s hostility toward equity and inclusion, many companies have quietly dismantled their DEI efforts. Offices have closed, roles have disappeared, and public support for queer and trans communities has shrunk. If this hadn’t been labeled WorldPride, I would have assumed it was just another DC Pride festival.
It’s been years since I marched through the streets with aching calves and a full heart. This time, I couldn’t help but feel the imbalance between visibility and real inclusion.
Still, I made the best of it. I attended the few trans-centered spaces that were available, including the Labor of Love Awards Ceremony, the HRC Pride Brunch, and the National Trans Visibility March to the International Pride March and Rally. I reconnected with familiar faces, met new ones, and felt a spark of connection that reminded me why we keep showing up.
I came back to New York feeling more committed than ever to my community work, to telling our stories, and to capturing the joy and resistance that continue to define us. My love of photography is growing, and I’m excited to explore how this creative path can support the movement in deeper and more intentional ways.
There is still so much more to build. And even with everything working against us, we are still here. Brilliant. Bold. Becoming.
Here’s a moment I captured in DC that reflects the beauty I’m holding onto:
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Unfortunately, this is honestly the case with a lot of pride events. They're not inclusive of disabled folks as well.
- source: disabled trans woman living in DC