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A LGBTQ+ pride flag is seen being waved in front of a prison fence.
Photo from Adobe Stock

During Pride Month this year, I have invited everyone to celebrate with me, a transgender woman.

I am using the strategy my mother and grandmother told me they used to defeat Jim Crow: Be the best visible version of yourself possible. Doing so will teach people more about you. 

It’s tough terrain for LGBTQ+ people in prison. Most people are turning against queer acceptance. My hope is that I can help us feel more secure and accepted and decrease the anxiety and depression that is far too common among incarcerated queer people. 

Perception is everything — what people see is what they believe. Show them who you really are, and you can kill their prejudices and biases against you. 

Why am I so excited about Pride this year? 

Because I worked hard to find outside support and even found inside support from straight allies. This is also my first Pride in a new unit in my prison. 

I have planned a Pride party with music, food and laughs. I have encouraged others who are not like us to reconsider their prejudice. 

Before the event, I am going to cook and donate “cell soul food” to my allies, friends and family. I cook cell soul food with love in the cell. It’s my version of healthy food — no microwave, no state food. It will be canteen-bought, only boiled in fresh water and made well. I am an excellent cook and am going to put my best foot forward. I will make a Pride punch and Big Mama’s chicken stew, coupled with lots of chips and snack cakes. 

I will have a Pride playlist of my favorite jams and have made Pride tablecloths. And I will have a mock runway for the girls and boys who want to “vogue” and express themselves or walk in categories like “trans face” (no makeup), “thug-boy realness,” “women’s body” and “muscle madness.” 

My goal is to share my pride with the world around me. I want to encourage higher standards of inclusion and motivate the wider prison community to accept us into the fold. 

I hope to help my allies, family and friends build a fresh mindset — to make space to stop judging and oppressing us. I hope to encourage my family across the queer spectrum — those I know and those I only know are out there — to find ways to overcome self-sabotage, silence and self-doubt, and reach greatness. 

Pride is a deeper love. It is the power to live and the strength to survive.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Da’Shae Breeze is the pen name of a Black trans writer incarcerated in Missouri.