A Black Nonbinary Queer Manifesto:
- Tavi

- May 8
- 3 min read
Gender normativity has made it quite impossible for women (cis, trans, lesbian) and individuals outside of the gender binary (nonbinary and queer) to exist comfortably and authentically in society. Of course, the experiences vary among races and sexualities. However, these constraints not only taint the experiences of women, trans women, lesbians, and nonbinary individuals in the world but also affect how these specific groups show up in feminist spaces. Historically, it is known that collectively, women’s lived experiences have been nothing short of oppressive. This is why the feminist movement and fight for women’s liberation is pressingly important. We can see how organizations like the Combahee River Collective sought out a space exclusively for Black lesbians because their voices were ignored. They paved the way for Black lesbian visibility in the second wave of the feminist movement as intersectionality was slowly becoming a topic of discussion.
Although society has become more progressive, at times, there can still be divisions between
cis-hetero women and trans women, nonbinary, and queer identities. This is not to throw shade toward any group of women, but instead to bring awareness to the very real and valid
experiences of identities in the feminist movement that identify as trans, nonbinary, and queer.
Naturally, society has no idea what to do with nonbinary, trans, and queer identities. As a Black nonbinary queer person, I find myself feeling like I don’t belong in most spaces, not only because I am Black, but also because I am gender nonconforming. It is an unusual space to be in, knowing that I was born AFAB (a female at birth), but my gender expression is rejected in environments for women and thus equated with the desire to be male.
Hasn’t anyone ever heard of gender fluidity? Sometimes I wake up feeling masculine, and other times I feel feminine. And what I am attempting to articulate is deeper than what I wear, but it oozes through me energetically. It is showcased in the very intentional and fluid ways I show up in life.
My identity as a nonbinary person is an act against the patriarchy and the gender binary. That sounds pretty fucking feminist to me. I hate bleeding out of my vagina every month, and the idea of carrying a baby for nine months sounds unpleasant to me, but I’d still love to adopt children and be a parent. I might not buy into the idea that I have to refer to myself as a woman or “act” as a woman because I was born a female, but I am still a feminist, nonetheless.
It’s uncomfortable to consider how socially constructed gender and sexuality are. In society, it’s like it’s almost easier to just consider nonbinary, trans, and queer identities as separate. Othered. The privilege of benefiting from being a part of the majority is too precious to relinquish for men (and women) who are aware of their positionality. And the thought of accepting that we’ve been born into the oppressions of gender programming can be daunting.
Luckily, I’ve processed all of that with my therapist. At the moment, I have been faced with the uncomfortable feeling I get while using the women’s restroom. Shrinking myself to make sure I don’t offend other women with my existence. All the while, I just need a place to pee.
When we look at the feminist movement concerning trans, nonbinary, and queer identities, I feel it is important to consider these questions: Is it fair to exclude the identities that don’t align with traditional femininity? What does the exclusion of trans, nonbinary, and queer identities say about community members of the feminist movement? Do these actions consider the feminist movement to still be inclusive? These are all important things to reflect on.
We can see these same struggles pop up in Black feminism and transnational feminism, as well. Minority feminist groups tend to get lost in the sea of the majority. And instead of further
alienating those groups, we need to be adamant about being inclusive and opening up discussions around their experiences. The fear of not being able to relate is no excuse. In fact, in times when we have nothing to say, truly listening is being supportive and building up the community.
When we listen to the perspectives of trans, nonbinary, and queer people, we can see how
feminism and femininity manifest in different ways. This doesn’t discredit the fact that trans,
nonbinary, and queer people belong in spaces for women, but rather is open to acknowledging that the connections to feminism and femininity aren’t traditional and don’t perpetuate the patriarchy and misogynistic ideals.
We have evolved past the horrors of traditionalism when it comes to the feminist movement.
If we desire to create a safe space, we must tend to all identities, whether they are women, minority, transnational women, transwomen, nonbinary, lesbian/queer. We have to be intentional not to fall into conservative thinking.
