A Healer Walks Among Us: On The Power, Presence, and Perseverance of Je’Kendria Trahan
Activist, organizer, and healer, Je’Kendria Trahan. Photo courtesy of Je’Kendria Trahan.
By Jaimee A. Swift
Activist and organizer Je’Kendria Trahan (she/they) is using healing, conjuring, and organizing as a means to catalyze personal and collective transformation, resistance, and revolution in Washington, D.C.
An activist, curator, facilitator, community organizer, and more, Je’Kendria Trahan, 33, is most certainly a healer. What is the most beautiful and revolutionary aspect about Trahan is that they are not only concerned about healing and the restoration of theirself but they are truly and deeply committed to the radical healing and transformation of their people, their community, and the world.
A fat non-binary femme originally hailing from Orange, Texas, Trahan has called Washington D.C. home for over 15 years. While her activism and organizing has taken them to many places, Trahan has found true community and belonging among and with her comrades of the D.C. chapter of Black Youth Project 100 (BYP100), who they consider to be their political home and where they have served in several leadership roles. Beginning her career working on educational equity and social justice in D.C. in 2005, Trahan began their work as an AmeriCorps literacy tutor at Garfield Elementary School in Southeast D.C. Unabashedly and unapologetically a Black queer feminist, abolitionist, and anti-capitalist, since her start as an educator, Trahan has worked on several initiatives, campaigns, and issues, all through a racial justice lens and all through mobilizing by all means to get their people liberated and free.
Having mobilized within the Movement for Black Lives since 2014, Trahan has curated and catalyzed several local and national campaigns to end the school-to-prison pipeline in D.C., divest from police and invest in Black futures, decriminalize sex work in D.C., and cultivate safety from state and interpersonal violence for Black women and femmes, and invest in alternatives to prisons and police through transformative and healing justice. Trahan is also the creator of The Conjure Creative, a platform that offers and utilizes Hoodoo, spiritual healing services and products, arts and culture, and healing circles for Black queer and trans liberation. As the Executive Director of the Collective Action for Safe Spaces (CASS), a “grassroots organization that uses comprehensive, community-based solutions through an intersectional lens to eliminate public gendered harassment and assault in the D.C. metropolitan area”, Trahan brings her unique background and experiences as a survivor, who is disabled, and formerly housing insecure to CASS initiatives. Through her work with CASS, she works across different social justice initiatives such as fighting against gender-based violence, implementing bystander implementation, and more.
Trahan spoke with me about what led her into her work; what being “unapolgetically Black queer feminist, abolitionist, and anti-capitalist” means to them; why Black queer feminist thought and behavior and social spaces in D.C. matters; and what a Black Radical means to them.
I am really interested in what led you into your activism. Could you please tell me a little about the moment or moments that led you into your work?
Je’Kendria Trahan (JT): “I feel like my earliest kind of connection around ‘there is something wrong here’ [Laughs] in terms of the world and my relation to Blackness, I would say it was when I went to Howard [University]. I was doing a work study program, where I was doing Americorps and a lot of afterschool programming, literacy tutoring, and things of that nature with kids in Ward 8. It was so bizarre to me that I was on Howard’s campus and experiencing one life in D.C., and then going to Southeast DC––and this was in 2005––and it was very much rampant with community violence. Children had a lot of trauma and the schools were severely underserved. This was also before the charter school boom in D.C. That was when I started to recognize that even with me having this background of not having a lot of money growing up and being in a single-parent household for most of my childhood, I went to college and could see there was a lot of disparities between Black folks and me going to Howard wasn’t some safety badge. That really drove my desire to really stay connected to the community around D.C., because if you don’t know about Howard but they tell you not to interact with the locals. However, in interacting with the locals, I found a lot of community in the schools I was working in D.C. So, that was the start.”
“That was when I started to recognize that even with me having this background of not having a lot of money growing up and being in a single-parent household for most of my childhood, I went to college and could see there was a lot of disparities between Black folks and me going to Howard wasn’t some safety badge.”
“I would also say as I was working in the educational system that is where I started to form a more political analysis. I thought I was doing the work by doing Black History Month stuff and all these initiatives and practical programming that were targeted toward Black and Brown children. Eventually, my spirit, tenacity, and drive were eroding because of the way the educational system was set up. It was very standardized test heavy––this was also a time politically where Michelle Rhee and Adrian Fenty were really chastising schools and it was the No Child Left Behind era––and so it was very difficult to do the things I wanted to do with Black and Brown children, specifically with Black kids in school. I left the school system and joined a consulting company that did special development for teachers, principals, and school district leaders and it was focused on early childhood. When I was hired, I was doing a lot of data collection but then after conversations with my executive director and boss at the time, they said they wanted to really bring a racial equity lens to the early childhood work. I was on board and I was committed. However, some things happened that made me realize we were not as equipped to handle internal racial equity training because I had White bosses who were challenging what I would bring up in the racial equity trainings. So, I shifted my focus––and this was around the same time the incidences of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown were happening about five or six years ago––to larger activism because I wasn’t getting it at my job setting. That is when I found BYP100 around 2014. I reached out to them and I was so enamoured by their work. I was like, ‘Who are these youth?’ That is when I joined and the rest is of the here and now! [Laughs] That was my pathway to the work I do now.”
How has organizing with BYP100 DC and other organizations and initiatives brought you a sense of community, home, and belonging?
JT: “I just remember in the orientation and the first meeting with BYP100 DC, the amount of Black people in the space and how I still felt very seen and very welcomed. I felt like I could be out about my queerness and my disability and still feel very seen and welcomed. I remember us sitting there and doing activities together that helped me feel like I could be my most creative self. I learned so much. Just the ways we speak about Fannie Lou Hamer and Ella Baker and how this non-hierarchical, group-centered leadership really helped me to blossom into the person I am now. Within the first couple of months being in the organization, I became an organizing co-chair. I became the co-chair because our first campaign of our chapter was on the school-to-prison pipeline; getting Metro police out of schools; and ending suspensions and expulsions for everyone. That pushed me into what now I consider my element because I really love facilitation. I really love the arts and how we can incorporate the arts, education, and healing into our activism work. The way that I have been pushed in my leadership has allowed me to cultivate a sense of self––a radical self. I am allowed to make mistakes. I am allowed not to feel that I have to produce to feel validated or to feel like I have to be the person that is the center of attention either.”
“The way that I have been pushed in my leadership has allowed me to cultivate a sense of self––a radical self. I am allowed to make mistakes. I am allowed not to feel that I have to produce to feel validated or to feel like I have to be the person that is the center of attention either.”
“Now granted, there are the dynamics of being a fat, dark-skinned, Black femme who is often seen as a laborer and emotional nurturer and so, there are some complexities that I’ve had to learn to deal with and establish boundaries. I have learned how to articulate my needs better and have learned how to say, ‘Hey, you know, maybe you should do this as well’ or ‘Maybe you should support me too if you want me to do this.’ That is the reason why I have been so committed because I have been able to build a community where I am challenged to grow and I am able to help others to cultivate to grow. We do it with such radical vulnerability and inclusivity and with such principled dedication on having a shared agreement about how we are going to move together and having shared values about how to work to liberate everybody, especially people who are often forgotten. My own identity and who I am resonates a lot with that. Having multiple marginalized identities really influences my commitment and my ability to be able to feel safe in this community.”
Activist, organizer, and healer, Je’Kendria Trahan. Photo courtesy of Je’Kendria Trahan.
Your bio states that “Je’Kendria’s politic is unapolgetically Black queer feminist, abolitionist, anti-capitalist, and is committed to liberation for all until freedom is won.” Can you please explain more of what this means to you––to be “unapologetically Black queer feminist, abolition, and anti-capitalist”?
JT: “I think that means having a posture of curiosity and having a posture of not just settling for the status quo. I think that under the confines of capitalism, our imaginations are often limited in terms of what we can do and what we can build together to support each other. I think it ultimately means that what has been our reality for so many years—these different systems—they are not working and there a lot of ways that Black queer folks and folks in the Black radical tradition have created ecosystems of survival, of resistance, of safety, of freedom, and of healing. We often have the answers but we are often pushed out of the decision-making process and also disempowered to approach leadership and to have self-determination––we are not often granted that. I credit folks like Charlene Carruthers who constantly say that we have incomplete stories about what solutions are for more marginalized people than we have complete solutions. I am always constantly thinking about how someone who is experiencing immigration issues; who is Black and trans; who is Black and disabled––really thinking about how we can consistently evolve to always be responsive to people’s needs and also in our fight, thinking about how they are speaking for themselves. I am always thinking about how we are able to self-determine and have the autonomy to govern ourselves and to really have the freedom and liberation we desire.”
“I think that means having a posture of curiosity and having a posture of not just settling for the status quo. I think that under the confines of capitalism, our imaginations are often limited in terms of what we can do and what we can build together to support each other. I think it ultimately means that what has been our reality for so many years—these different systems—they are not working and there a lot of ways that Black queer folks and folks in the Black radical tradition have created ecosystems of survival, of resistance, of safety, of freedom, and of healing.”
You are the Executive Director of the Collective Action for Safe Spaces (CASS), “a grassroots organization that uses comprehensive, community-based solutions through an intersectional lens to eliminate public gendered harassment and assault in the D.C. metropolitan area.” Can you explain more about your work and leadership with CASS? Why is dismantling street and sexual harassment in D.C. important?
JT: “We are a very small grassroots organization. We are committed to community-driven, non-carceral solutions to end street harassment and assault across the spectrum of gender-based violence that can occur primarily focused in the D.C., Maryland, and Virginia area but we do travel to other places depending on what the partnership looks like. Our core programming is our Safe Bar Collective Work, where we train bars and restaurants on bystander intervention and anti-harassment in the context of the night life. We offer that to bar staff, restaurant staff, and other hospitality staff. We do this, of course, through an intersectional lens, so we address gender, race, class, what your job status is, and also different dynamics of power in that type of work space. We also offer a trainer model to other cities so they can come in and train bars and restaurants in their respective cities and areas. We facilitate workshops and have different curriculum such as our anti-harassment curriculum and we do this for other community organizations and groups. We also have some racial equity content we offer and we are also looking to incorporate a stronger disability justice lens. Overall, we are thinking more about the dynamics of how rape culture, patriarchy, and toxic masculinity are all integrated in media, workplace policy, and in all these different areas.”
“We are also getting ready to launch a Transformative Justice Resource Hub. We have received some resources to do a need assessment for survivors who are women, LGBTQ+, and of color to understand more firmly and more clearly what the landscape of transformative justice work can be in D.C. It is in its very early stages but our transformative justice work is going to be a pretty significant and new initiative for us in terms of articulating what our core areas are. We are excited about that. We also will have a study group and opportunities for local healers and practitioners to join this work and create a network of support, so when harm and violence does happen in the D.C. community, we have sort of a first responders team of people from different backgrounds who are equipped and who are not invested in the carceral system or calling the police. We also offer Rethink Masculinity, which is an eight-week program offered to men and masculine of center folks who are looking to unpack toxic masculinity, rape culture, and the patriarchy to learn and to build a posture of accountability and humility in understanding. That is a free program we offer and the next cohort is happening in the summer. As a part of that, we also have a model for those who complete the program, where they do ongoing volunteer work in addressing rape, sexual harm, and gender-based violence.”
“We are currently on a committee where we helped create the first draft of street harassment legislation that was non-carceral and intersectional. The Street Harassment Act of 2018 is currently in implementation mode and we are doing data collection on street harassment in D.C., and getting information on where it is happening, who it is happening to, and what people want in terms of resources and solutions. Also, we are looking at suggestions on training and equipping D.C. employees or folks who are representing the Office of Human Rights and other external facing employees. We are looking to figure out how to support folks who are representing the D.C. government with implementing this act. One of the biggest things we are working on now is decriminalizing sex work. We are still in heavy campaign mode and we are getting ready to revive and re-amp to come back harder with more public education events and more canvassing efforts to generate more public support and to demonstrate to D.C. City Council that decriminalizing sex work is an issue many people in D.C. care about and support.”
Speaking on the Black radical tradition in the DMV, do you mind sharing with me how the formidable legacy of Black queer feminist organizing in D.C. has impacted your work?
JT: “I love this question. Through BYP100, one of things I’ve tried to address head on is this concept of D.C. being such a transient space and an epicenter of Black migration and Black displacement. It is important to discuss how Black organizers coming in who are not from D.C. but still wanting to contribute to the social justice issues of the area and all the complexities that holds. There is this initiative I started with some other BYP100 comrades called “Chasing Chocolate City” a couple of years ago, to help introduce folks to the many different elements of D.C. history that are often forgotten, particularly the Black queer and trans activism and social spaces. Sometimes, these arts and cultural spaces are not linked to everyday people, particularly, when we think about the different pockets and diversity of Blackness that has swept through D.C. I think that in my studies and in my organizing and talking to elders, one thing I recognize and have most certainly been inspired by and connected to is that D.C. was heralded as a Black queer and trans Mecca. There was a time where Black queer and trans folks were really doing some hard core organizing, particularly around the HIV/AIDS crisis. I think about the folks who were organizing their people to go to clinics and to advocate for city councils to have more research done and more resources poured into the HIV/AIDS crisis.”
“I think that in my studies and in my organizing and talking to elders, one thing I recognize and have most certainly been inspired by and connected to is that D.C. was heralded as a Black queer and trans Mecca.”
“I also think about the social spaces that Black queer and trans folk created and how gentrification in D.C has impacted those social spaces; well, at least this era of gentrification because there have always been these waves of displacement that have been informed by the political climate that is happening. When you think about how Georgetown was a place where freed Blacks were able to congregate and create their own spaces, and then when Roosevelt came in with the New Deal, and brought all his new staff to live in the Georgetown area, and then they divested from that area, to where crack and HIV/AIDS epidemic was happening, and there was a severe divestment after the 1968 riots, it has been decades of this. We are now in this new era of rapid gentrification and displacement and that has had a severe impact on Black queer and trans social spaces but there is still a pretty prevalent population of folks doing the work.”
“While I am talking about this, I am also thinking about how I have had to get over a lot of guilt of being here in D.C.. As a person who is not fully out to her family, and who left Texas, where racism had a different impact on you because where I lived, there were KKK recruitment billboards where I grew up. So coming to D.C., and then to Howard––and at the time, ‘Chocolate City’ was in the beginning stages of being erased, D.C–– I recognized D.C. was also not safe for me. It took me a while for me to hold onto that truth while acknowledging that I am able to still live here but at the same time, still navigating housing insecurity. It is really important to think about and embody what your relationship to the history of the city is and to the Black people who are still here and who may be pushed out eventually.”
Activist, organizer, and healer, Je’Kendria Trahan. Photo courtesy of Je’Kendria Trahan.
You are a healer and conjurer. Can you please discuss more of your healing and Hoodoo work and how you are dedicated to Black liberation through your work as the creator of The Conjure Creative?
JT: “I definitely credit BYP100 for introducing me to better language around African spirituality and Diasporic spiritual practices. I do healing work and I have a healing and arts collective that is really focused on Black ancestry and the indigenous practices of our people as a means for not only healing but also resistance. It is a really important part of my work. I make different products. I'm really invested in returning to the earth & utilizing the spirit of the people who were utilizing herbs & potions to resist & who were using them to poison their masters to do deeply radical things to survive. This deeply informs how I move and the activism I do as well. The legacy of conjure, African spirituality, and Hoodoo systems are also obviously embedded in our culture––like pouring libations out for our people and singing and dancing in circles and things like that.”
“I’m really invested in returning to the earth & utilizing the spirit of the people who were utilizing herbs & potions to resist & who were using them to poison their masters to do deeply radical things to survive. This deeply informs how I move and the activism I do as well.”
How has a revolution formed within you in terms of the healing work you do?
JT: “I have learned more than anything that healing and even liberation is not this destination that we arrive to but it is an ongoing evolution in repacking, rebuilding, regenerating, and repairing. I think what has been so transformative for me in my own personal healing work because I am a survivor of a lot of different forms of abuse unfortunately; I have a disability; and I am also someone who is seen to the world as Black fat person and that also has complications surrounding what healing and wellness mean for me. So, I think what has been the most transformative in my healing journey is recognizing that I have the power and the ability to heal myself and to commit to ongoing wellness for myself and that it is not some mountain-top goal in that once I get to the mountain, healing is done [Laughs]. It is recognizing that harm is always going to happen––even in our most liberated sense of the world––harm, conflict, and pain are still going to happen.”
“I have learned more than anything that healing and even liberation is not this destination that we arrive to but it is an ongoing evolution in repacking, rebuilding, regenerating, and repairing.”
“When we think about how we are going to define healing and define what we are going to do in order for us to heal, it feels better and more alleviating to know that I have a set of tools that I can use right now and I have a community of folks who are also invested in this and who are also on their own pathways of healing. As we are building community and also fighting for liberation, we are keeping in mind that our wellness is super important. One of biggest things I have learned is from reading from past movements and from elders was that people were not taking care of themselves. People were being assassinated, were dying, and being killed––we have activists today who are being killed and who are committing suicide and who are not making it to live their fullest lives because there are so many systems at play that are trying to kill us. So it is our duty to continue this legacy of healing ourselves and it is our duty to learn from the lessons of the past so when we get to a better place, we know that it is not over. Healing is an ongoing process.”
What does a Black Woman Radical mean to you?
JT: “When I think about a Black Woman Radical or a Black Femme Radical or a Black Radical, I am really inspired by and I think about folks like Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Pauli Murray. I also think about how folks like Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith, Pauli Murray and even to a degree, Harriet Tubman, queered gender norms, pleasure, and threw down the barriers and confinements that society places on us. With Harriet, we also herald her but I often think about her lifelong commitment. Oftentimes, we center Harriet Tubman’s first thirty years of her life but she lived well into her eighties and was still doing a lot of organizing and radical work for the elderly and for disabled people. Being a Black Radical really means defying those norms and having an ongoing, lifelong commitment to growing, to evolving, and serving this greater purpose of freeing our people. It is also knowing that it is not about being the most highlighted and decorated person in the room or outshining others but it is about how I do my part and play my unique role and help facilitate someone else’s ability to play their unique roles and show up in a way that is interconnected and that is not leaning towards one person or leaning towards one cause.”
“Being a Black Radical really means defying those norms and having an ongoing, lifelong commitment to growing, to evolving, and serving this greater purpose of freeing our people. It is also knowing that it is not about being the most highlighted and decorated person in the room or outshining others but it is about how I do my part and play my unique role and help facilitate someone else’s ability to play their unique roles and show up in a way that is interconnected and that is not leaning towards one person or leaning towards one cause.”
“I also think about how many of these radicals lived multiple and different lives. I think about myself in this context because I am 33 years old now and BYP100 has a limitation of 35 years old but of course, there will be other opportunities after 35 to support the work. I also think about Ella Baker, who was leading and supporting young leaders into her older age. When I think about how in past movements we have deemed becoming a politician or becoming the president as being the end all and be all for us and once we have reached this certain status and level of notoriety, that is it for us. However, the people that I love and respect the most are those who are still in the trenches years and decades into the work and have not shifted or conceded in this super radical fight. Angela Davis is also someone I think about who has lived very many lives now and who is someone that is committed and still is committed to young folks now leading the way.”
You can follow Je’Kendria on Instagram @jekendriat.
You can follow The Conjure Creative @theconjurecreative on Instagram.
You can follow the Collective Action for Safe Spaces (CASS) on Twitter and Instagram.